A/N: Yeah, not too fond of that last chapter, but this one's... well... slashy slashy! Finally, eh?
[and if i don't make it, know that i loved you all along]
I remember now why I hate you. Because you are my antithesis, you are my nemesis, you make me everything that contradicts me. My name, my face, my hardened shell of mother-of-pearl that's oh-so-smooth and unscathed... all this falls apart when you come into the picture, and I'm nothing, and nobody.
You steal my identity, you steal my faith. You're too good for me to believe in you, too flawed for me to ally with you, too human for me to love you, you're simply you, a twisting, changing, mercurial paradox that should have no hold on anyone, and yet...
You rip open the curtains around my bed, with a sort of regretful anger that's instantly retracted. The solitary confines shatter and you're in here, like you always are, within me.
God, I don't want to be thinking this but I am- I can't admit this but I already have, in the way I keep sweating in my sleep and twisting my neck around, trying to get you out of me, because you're touching me beneath my skin and speaking to me from inside my head.
This started a long time ago.
Go away! I haven't figured it out yet. And I'm going to do something stupid.
But you stand over there and there's my blood and your blood all mingled against our pale moon-cast skin, our mistake.
Our mistake. Your mistake.
I stare but I'm too weak from all this turmoil to have any emotion come through my eyes.
Is this the first time you've called me by my name? My first name, my... an electric shiver contracts my body and I close my eyes.
Tears. Unshed tears.
"What, what, what..." I'm whispering, and I sound a way I'd never have let myself sound to you if it hadn't happened like this, if you hadn't walked in in the middle of my weakness, my moment of uncontrol.
"You. You stupid, stupid, stupid boy-"
"Yes! Don't you know what you've done to me!?"
I said it.
You blink. And you look for a second at me like you can't even see me lying there on the mess of crushed linnen with dirty hands and face.
"Done to... you."
You don't believe me, and I don't believe you... for the first time it seems to dawn on you that I'm lying in all my vulnerability in this darkened bed, completely weak, and that you've never... never seen me like that before... you seem ashamed all of a sudden, to be standing over me like this. You turn away.
If it were lighter, perhaps I'd see you blush. But if it were lighter, you wouldn't be here. It would...
I remember the vial in my pocket in my robe, and my hand goes for it- I curl upwards and look away from you as I conceal my gesture, and secure the thing, cold as ice, in a claw-like fist. I don't know what I could do with it, but...
"Draco," you mumble, and I wonder if anyone else is in the ward. I doubt it.
"Look, Potter, if you've come to see me in the middle of the night in a hospital bed, I doubt it's a curtosy call. What do you want from me?"
"You were crying."
"I never cry. I was only biting myself." I flash an insane smile at you, and you twitch. It must look so familiar to you, Harry...
Stop thinking, I tell myself, before I forget you're there and lose myself in the chaos. So I slow. Breathe. Breathe.
You smile uneasily, as if I'd said something aloud that I shouldn't have, but a shadow passes over your face as the curtains toy with the wind and when the starlight alights upon your face again, the look is gone.
"Something's wrong, Draco. Something's... changed... the potion, it made us... somehow..."
It's an easy secret to keep, Harry, that this started in my mind long before it started in yours... that long before you took draughts of my potion, I was drunk on you.
"I cut myself and you did this. At the same time. I always know where you are, it's a presence in my mind... you left something inside me with your DAMN POTION!"
"Don't scream, Harry..."
How unlike me to say something that imploring, but you look strangely at me with pain in your eyes, instead of reproach.
"I give up."
"I... I tried... Draco, this is hurting me, to have you half inside me like this. I know you hate me, but you can't keep going like this, it's hurting you too."
It's a whisper.
"Can you just... stop? Stop it? And go back to like before?"
"No... I... don't... I don't know how."
There's a still understanding between us that's solving nothing. The night goes on and on and on, forever, and forever, and forever... there's a stillness as if time will stay suspended for us in this moment. You turn and slide onto the tumbled pile of sheets, sitting too close to me. I feel your body warm where it leans into the mattress, into my side where I lay.
I sit up. But it's still warm. And this is new.
"Snape has the antidote, maybe if I drank more of that... but it didn't fix it the first time, this isnt' the same..."
I nod, but you don't see.
"Draco, what happened to you when... when I drank it? What did you see?"
I don't answer, not yet... we have all the time to wait, after all. The night goes on and on. And I can't speak. I can't speak...
I can't... speak...
Stepping out from the mesh of curtains, and the room is dark. There's no mystery in leaving you now that you've left... I wander across the carpet and slip into your bed.
It still smells and feels of you, the clean cotton smell that's so unmagical but so much more human. I slip into your dreams. I lay across the cold length of your blankets so long unslept in...
It's only the second night.
I sometimes betray you just a little and read the book beneath your pillow. I make myself think that you leave it for me, though I know you don't. Poems, scraps, thoughts, little fragments of you that you record like a simple Muggle, but it captures you so well... more than any potion or magical enchantment of memories, any moving photo...
I move the crimson pillow and there it lies, the crushed bits of paper you leave behind you, a trail of thought dying off where you disappear... there are extra papers tucked into the pages, some folded and bound, others loose, chosen moments you record and freeze for me. It's a beautiful collection, I think... though you've never showed me yourself so I can never tell you.
I'm such a lonely spy, yet it's you... I can't be alone, I have your diary in pieces here.
With trembling fingers I flip open the heavy cover and turn the pages until I find the writing scratchy and tormented... and feel for my wand.
A warm glow brings to life... this.
Here, I read. Your secret. Which is my secret.
'I can't think. I can't think. I can't. Think. Here. In this room, where I've been trapped and breathed upon for YEARS now, YEARS. The Prefects deserve their sanity? Given their own rooms... God, God, God... every night I think and think and think and think in circles over and over, reading all my old thoughts for a few seconds before plunging my quill into the ink and starting a new parchment.
I hate this routine. Free me from it, any way you can. God, God, God... and I'd tell you, Ron, but you sleep every night while this happens to me. COME THROUGH THOSE CURTAINS. God, come into my bed... and listen to me so I can say and scream all these things I'm writing, God, God, God...
The paper makes a scratching noise against the others as I flip it aside.
'I had a dream. It scarred me. He lay before me cut and bruised and beautiful, a porcelaine corpse, a doll... and I knelt over him and kissed the blood tears from his eyes and the wet crimson from his hair and I wept and wept...
I awoke with tears in my eyes. This secret dream, I... God... Draco, I understand your evil, it's mine, it's all mine. You've become so silent and I want to tear you apart and plunge a sword into you, rip you apart, destroy you...
I want you. Where are you. I know... I think I do... I can feel you laying awake in your dormitory, and it's a haunting thought that won't leave me. I want you, I want you, I want you. Not in some hollow sexual way, to use you, but to have you, and posess you, and *understand* you. Because you're me and I don't understand myself.
God, I know, I know... I know... I think, I think, I think you can solve all this... broken and beautiful, and understood...'
I reread the thing, and breathe.
You... is love the word? Numb... breathe... numb... and I scratch the parchment violently with shaking hands, willing to rip the thing into a million pieces... shouldnt' have read it, shouldn't have read it... and I... can't... admit... that I don't understand you- a tear slides down my face and it's contorted in a grimace of refusal. But I turn the pages over and there's a single parchment leaf left, a single one...
This night two nights ago. Breathe. But read it. To know. To know you.
[Because I do know you. More than he ever will.]
'He was inside me.'
A single line. But I turn the thing over, and scrawled over the back like a last will and testamant, his imploring, beautiful voice splashed in black ink onto the page-
'It was a mistake to want him, I thought, over and over as I felt him deep inside me, too deep to fathom... it was a mistake, a mistake, a mistake... but it's a wonderful, unimaginable mistake, a perfect beautiful mistake... an amazing mistake...
I am a mistake. And you are a mistake.
And maybe our living is just to fulfill it... because it feels horrible... and the agony... it's so... and... I...
But it feels so awful it feels... amazing, divine, holy, destined... what did you see? What did you see within me? I didn't want you to leave, but all my mind could scream was for you to get out... that's just it... I want to be within you too, it's what I want, I know now...'
The potion. You took the potion with you today when you left the class. Oh God... oh God...
'I can feel now, in this possibility... there's absolution. I have to... just be near you for this... there's a possibility now, that maybe you saw something you understood...'
I've found you. Searched so long and now stumbled on you. Never had a plan, just an irrational longing, and I ignored it in the day so long it finally found me in the night...
And I found you.
You look up with the eyes of a beaten animal, distrustful, hateful, resentful, hurt... hurt beyond hurt...
You're propped against the wall and I'm sitting on the bed; I move closer to you and instinctually lean close. I was thinking, thinking I could wrap my arms around you just to feel what you're like, so stiff and cold, and needing to be wrapped by someone... but I can't, so I don't. And I try to will my warmth into you but know I can't.
If I fuck this up... if I can't get through to you... if you hate me, or if you haven't changed, or aren't the person I think you are... if this turns out to be something I made up in my head, despite how real your breath feels on the nape of my neck, then please, please know... that I loved you...
Loved in the way that high school boyfriend-girlfriend couples can't.
And crushing first years can't. And old wizened teachers can't... and soldiers and mothers and fathers and fighters and death eaters and deserters can't...
In a way that only I can love you. That seperates us from this tiny world.
Because beyond this, I don't believe in love, I know that.
It's real, it must be.
I'm scared to look because I know the silver stare, the piercing glint of tear-stricken steel, slate, something so hard. I know it, dream it, feel it on me when you aren't there but when you perchance alight your thoughts on me... (how amazing it feels). I don't want to look back at you and be afraid, with you not knowing what I'm afraid of. I don't want you to know my weaknesses, though you already do... the glimpse you caught of me tore everything down.
But you look at me the same, still. Like nothing's changed, like you've seen it all before.
"I saw me. I was lying down, and I was cut all over and bleeding... and you knelt by me and breathed near me... I could feel it lik eyou were -right- -there-"
You've looked away, but I'm too paralyzed to... to think... you know... you know it all. My defences ripped away, my weakness bared, please don't hurt me, please don't reveal me for this...
I can't be found out. Not by you. I need you.
I try to part my lips, to stop you, but you stop yourself. I'm afraid and looking at you. You see it all. You see right through me. Please don't ruin me now... please be everything I prayed for, even though... you're probably not... please, please pretend it never happened, forget it now... forget me, forget me...
I am. I'm so sorry. The warmth of you... turned towards me... now feels like a disgusting violation of you, and I can't stand it... can't stand it... can I take away your breath? I have to get away. Get away. Make it... further somehow...
I'm stumbling and you're watching.
I'm drowning and you're laughing.
I'm kneeling before you and you smile at my prayers, but you don't see... how strange it is.
God, God, God...
So I slip from the bed and try to leave, but you grab me, and I can't stand the thoughts anymore, the haunting possibility that strains a second around an eternity-
"Harry, don't go!" You squeal. Desperately. What could you want from me?
You pull me down and kiss me.
I don't want to understand this horror
There's a weight in your eyes that I can't admit
Everybody ends up here in bottles
But the nametags the last thing you wanted
As the world explodes we fall out of it
But we can't let go because this
Will not go away
There's a house built out in space...
I can't see that thief that lives inside of your head
But I can be some courage at the side of your bed
I don't know whats happening and I won't pretend
But I can be your...
Someone help us understand who ordered
This disgusting arrangement with time and the end
I don't want to hear who walked on water
Because the hallways are empty and the clock ticks
Through the darkness you couldn't see a thing.
But the two bodies were there. The night traced faintly their outlines against the misted black and grey, the moon, the shadows...
Entwined, they danced motionless, perfect within each other... crying... spinning still...
Harry stiffened as the kiss hit, falling into himself as the pale boy, so insubstantial in the airy starlight, like the starlight itself, crashed into him. In the empty silence of the place, you could hear his breath end sharply-
And shudder with realization... as he went limp into the arms of moonlight.
The silver-haired boy curled around him, and they... couldn't explain it, so they stayed for a minute, for ten minutes, for an endless night within each other, their mouths a single link, locked in an unspoken word. And from one other they were drinking desperately the warmth from their bodies they couldn't possess.
Harry's arms clung desperately around the thinness of the boy, and tasted blood on his lips, and cried... this suffering I've brought upon you... and all you've seen...
I want to know you, within you and without you...
And he laced his white fingers through the black hair. And they bit back their tears a little more. Because it stung.
A perfect flaw to all their plan. A bitter desperate mistake.
A/N: Sorry, no smut, I don't write it... somehow I think the whole crazy solice-finding would be a bit cheapened if they had raging monkey-sex right then and there in the hospital ward... ah well...
Ah yes, the chapter titles are not mine, if you haven't recognized them... the first three were from A Perfect Circle (Maynard James Keenan from Tool... or god almighty, rather. If you've for some reason been living under a rock these last couple of decades, come on out, download some of their stuff, it's... as good as Jesus, I don't know. @_@)
And this chapter title was from Our Lady Peace. Also, the lyrics in the middle of the fic are from OLP too, 'Thief', amazing song, amazing band... cause I gave up trying to write poetry to go with this chapter, cause I... just... not in a poemy mood ^_^ Yeah, so... right, leaving. *teeters off*