"Um . . . Draco?"
"What do you want Potter?"
"I just wanted to tell you that I love you."
"Yeah, it sounds kind of funny I guess, considering that we always argue and everything. But I really do."
"I - I . . . uh . . . what . . . is this some sort of joke?"
"And you . . ."
"What about that mudblood girlfriend of yours?"
"She's going with Ron, anyway she's not my type. I like boys. Especially ones with silver-blond hair."
"You're not serious."
"Sure I am."
The daydream kind of dies after that. I really don't know what would happen if I ever did tell him. It's nice to daydream though. It's just . . . when I hear Ron and Hermione, and they sound so happy . . . I get kind of lonely. I know I shouldn't be. I'm 'the boy who lived' after all. There are hundreds of little pre-pubescent witches running around in love with me. Maybe even some wizards too. (deep sigh) (begins pacing) But none of them have beautiful silvery hair, that would feel like silk sliding between my fingers. None of them have slow drawling voices that make my hands shake so that I have to hide them under the table, or in my pockets. None of them have lazy self-satisfied smiles that positively drip with arrogance, that make me stay up all night, my hands sweating, my limbs trembling, my body aching to see one directed at me just once. Just once and then I'd be happy. At least I think I would. I hope I would. I wish for my daydreams to come true every single night. I burn, literally burn with jealousy when he looks at anyone. It's scary how angry I get. Especially when I think about how I'll never ever be his. Because of his father and mine, because of Voldemort, because of Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin and some idiotic rivalry thing that happened over five hundred years ago (I think). Because the thrice-damned Sorting Hat put me in Gryffindor when it's so obvious that I belong with him. Forever. Oh well. That's what daydreams are for. I always have those.
Disclaimer: Ha! There is no disclaimer! It's all mine! Mine! I made up Harry and Draco and the Sorting Hat and everything! I'm the genius! Go ahead. Take all my money. I dare you. All thirty three cents of it (oh how I wish I were exaggerating.)
A/N: Now that I got that out of my system, what do you think? I really wish I could write clever notes that make you want to read my stories just for the stuff at the bottom. Oh well. I can always dream, can't I? Now you all have to review and comfort me and say, 'Au poor thing, of course you're clever!' Ha! Sorry I'm really hyper right now, I'll shut up. I promise. Here's my attempt at one of those smiley things . . . ^_^ Voila! Shalom!
Oh and to all potential flamers . . . DEAL. Love is love no matter who does what to whom. In my opinion all homophobics (like you flamer people) are just a little too defensive (nudge nudge, wink wink *from Monty Python*) So there!