Title: The Muse (Part 2)

Series: Part 2 of 4

Fandom: Harry Potter

Pairing: Harry/Draco

Rating: PG13

Warning: Major spoilers for ‘Goblet of Fire’.

Author’s Notes: Draco’s POV. Having finished writing this, damn is it angsty! But then, Draco is no bowl of laughs J . This is a bit of a song fic, inspired by Alanis Morisette’s ‘Perfect’, which is included at the end

I couldn’t understand it. I repeated it again and again in my mind, allowing it to consume me, to take precedence over my studies. I hated him for it, more than I ever did, despised him so much. It wasn’t enough what I said to him in class, on the Quiddich field, in the halls. I wanted to punish him, to take a knife and cut him to ribbons, tear open his chest and cut out his heart, feast on the juicy meat. Even that wouldn’t be enough.

Harry Potter

The Boy who Lived

The damned, annoying, bastard, lover of muggles and mudbloods, beautiful-

No. This couldn’t be happening. Not to me.

Let them look at me, be intrigued by the darkest crooks I kept hidden, try and break my frosty visage. It only made me laugh harder, knowing they could never see into the soul of Draco Malfoy. I was different to them. How dare they even attempt it?

How dare he.

Only he succeeded. Great, powerful wizard, he was. The defeat of Lord Voldermont only increased the love and attention already reaped on him. What spell had he placed over me, that I would unwillingly allow him glimpses past all my defenses, honed to perfection after years of construction?

No, it couldn’t continue. It had gone too far as it was.

And so I had coldly disallowed it to go any further, on the Hogwarts Express, taking absurd pleasure in the look of absolute defeat and anger on his face. In fact, it had sent a current of pleasure up my spine. I had finally succeeded. Harry Potter had been defeated. And all because of me. It had been my plan from the beginning, of course. Though I couldn’t deny my frustrated desire to release the tension between us, mainly I wanted to make him love me and then cruelly rip his heart to shreds.

He slapped me, so hard across the face a large purple bruise would discolour my face for three days. This was not right. No one ever hit me. Ever.

We fought, with the others looking on, all the houses, the Griffindors no doubt rooting for him, the Slytherins no doubt just wanting a good fight, not caring if we rearranged each others faces so completely we’d have to go back to Madame Pince to get our bones restructured.

Torture of all tortures. He won, once more. He looked me straight in the eye and told me he had used me, simply for the physical pleasure we had shared. Stupid, how incredibly stupid of me to believe him. But, it froze my blood, even as I managed to get my muscles working to storm past the bewildered people to another train compartment, slamming the door behind me.

Why do I care? I don’t care. He is nothing. Nothing at all to me. Worse than nothing. I hate him, hate him, hate him. Why did he do it?

He had hit a nerve, skewered it, sent exquisite pain straight through my body. Only I couldn’t understand it. I never cared what the others thought, didn’t I? In fact, it was hilarious, watching their pathetic attempts to charm me.

They are beneath me, nothing to me. He is-

I recognized the boy straight away. He was Slytherin, in my year. What was his name? Joe? Bob? Some hick name. He should have been chewing a corn stalk. I smiled to myself as he closed the door behind him.

"Did I tell you to come in here, mudblood?"

He smiled, leant casually against the door.

"That was quite a show in the hall."

I stood up. "Are you deaf? I said leave."

"I just figured seeing as Potter was so cruel, you may be in need of some rebound affection."

I burst out laughing. This was funnier than house elves in drag.

"With you, are you serious?"

He stepped forward, invading my personal body space, forcing me to move slightly to the side.

"If we were the last two people on Earth, I’d be getting ‘rebound affection’ from Hagrid’s pathetic beasts."

I grinned at the look of pure fury crossing his small features.

"You’re nothing, Malfoy."

I pushed him back. "The wands are out. What are you going to do, talk me to submission?"

"Everyone hates you, did you know that? They’re only nice to you because of your father, or in hope you’ll let them fuck you." I kept a stolid face, but my innards were churning. "What was I thinking? I’m sure you’d be pathetic. After all, you couldn’t even satisfy a pathetic Griffindor."

The words cut a path straight through me, tearing through my heart. The damnable Malfoy pride issued forth. This asshole couldn’t get the last word.

"Tell me, when was the last time anyone even remembered your name?"

The colour drained from whats his name’s face and he moved quickly out of the room. My satisfaction at getting the last word in was undercut by the searing hurt coursing through my veins. Layered on this was fury at myself for allowing it to affect me.

They don’t matter. They don’t matter.

Especially Potter.

Mudblood asshole ponsy bastard.

I kept his letter, the one that had been owl delivered over the Slytherin table the month before and had knocked me on the head, giving me the biggest paper cut across the forehead. How I had screamed at him, furious that he had done something so dangerous. But then, he was no foreigner to being rebellious. I didn’t know why he wrote it. It was unbelievably sappy. He even seemed to be unsure as to why he wrote it. Before then, our letters had been straight forward.

I’ll meet you later.

It was simple. And non-threatening. If someone else read it, it would mean nothing.

But then he wrote the letter, in which he mentioned my name and signed Harry Potter. I wondered if his rebellious streak hadn’t taken over him. After all, that same month, he first heard of Sirius Black applying for custody of him. Perhaps he felt he had nothing to lose.

I read and reread the letter again and again, when I arrived back at the Malfoy manor, attempting to decipher every aspect of it, the paper he used, he way he wrote it. Had he been in a rush? No, didn’t seem to be. The letters, What did they reveal about him? The words themselves. The way he signed it. Harry. Just Harry. Harry, Harry, Harry, Harry, Harry.

I felt like I was going insane.

Of course, Lucius had found it. That it would happen was so predictable as to be obvious. Rather, Narcissa found it while snooping around my room in the guise of cleaning.

I knew as soon as I stepped into the study. It was obvious even from the proud upright stance of his back. I didn’t even need to see the parchment in his trembling long fingers.

"Why, Draco?"

He sounded so defeated. I felt the familiar twist of guilt in my stomach. I had disappointed him. Yet again. I was pathetic.

He turned to face me. Upon looking at me, the weariness in his light grey eyes, so similar to mine, changed to pure anger. I decided it would be safest to play it dumb.

"What’s wrong, Father?"

He held up the parchment. I felt my heart sink. This was it, match point.

"You will hate me for this, but I don’t care. You’ll think the others will find it. I hope they do. I hope they’re jealous when they read of what it’s like to kiss you-" He started to read off it. His sarcasm belittled the very words that had fed my lonely soul for so long, causing now just intense humiliation.

"It’s Potter." I couldn’t bear it any longer. "The sick bastard is obsessed. I keep telling him to leave me alone. We always thought he was deranged. Well, here’s proof…" I trailed off. Lucius regarded me a long moment. He closed his eyes and placed the parchment on the table. I felt the knot in my stomach uncurl.

He believes-

The slap took me so unawares, I was spun around and landed harshly on the ground, not even putting up a hand to protect myself. Pain once again exploded across the very cheek that had been healed just the day before. Lucius rarely hit me. But when he did, he was not apt to control his temper. I did not attempt to move from my position sideways on the ground, fearing of looking in anyway hostile in his eyes and provoking him to further action.

"How long has it been going on?"

"Six months." I said, dully.

Lucius moved quickly towards me. I put an arm up in a feeble attempt at defense. He stopped short, looking down at me. I could not help but be surprized at the expression on his face.

"Listen, Draco. I can understand that, sometimes, people become confused. Especially if they’re still adolescents."

"I told you, Father-"

"Don’t lie to me!" The maniacal glint appeared in his eyes once more. "It’s written in the letter. He gives details! Details of the disgusting acts you committed."

I managed to rize to my feet.

"That’s not what happened, Daddy." I was shamed of the slight tremble in my voice. His expression suddenly changed, as though he had come to a realization.

"Oh, my dear boy." He suddenly grabbed me to him, pulled his arms around me. I stilled in shock. The Malfoys never touched each other, showed any signs of affection. "That bastard. I’ll make him pay. He’ll pay for what he did."

I gently pulled back, disentangling myself to look in confusion into his face. He was, indeed, close to tears. I had never seen Lucius cry.

"It’s ok. You don’t need to say it. I know what he did. But just answer me one thing. Are you still able to produce an heir?" I looked at him dumbly. "What I mean is, in his violations, did he ever-"

"Violations!" I couldn’t help it. It occurred to me what conclusion he had jumped to. I felt an intense wave of anger begin to build.

"It’s ok, Draco. It wasn’t your fault. Don’t worry. That rapist bastard-"

"No!" The wave reached past the crest and came crashing down. How dare he! I was furious to at the realization that he would prefer to believe that his son had been repeatedly violated rather than been in a fulfilling, albeit homosexual relationship. And to even think that Harry-

"He never did anything I didn’t want to. In fact, a lot of the time, I instigated it!" Lucius simply stared at me, tumultuous emotions only showing in his fiery eyes. "Harry is my lover. I am fucking gay. There, you have it. I’ve said it. I AM GAY."

I stopped, hands still trembling from the anger still cursing through my body.

It only took seven words to rip my life apart.

"You’re no longer welcome in this house."

He said them with such finality. I knew not to argue it. I simply nodded and walked up to my room to pack.

"No, don’t pack. Just leave. Send us an owl when you find a place. We’ll send you your things there."

I simply looked at him, wanting to cry, wanting so much to bawl, to beg him to let me stay, to love me again. I could not bear the iciness in his eyes, usually so full of love for me. My damned pride resurfaced. I nodded and stepped across the hall to the door. Narcissa stepped out from the kitchen, my owl, Hooter on her arm.

"Take this with you."

"Mum." My voice broke.

She turned her back to me. Lucius walked past and faced her, looking up at me, nodding in a sign for me to go.

I wanted to owl Harry straight away. But knew I couldn’t. The thought of him showing up just to be distaneful, or worse, not replying was too much to bear. I walked the wizard alleys at the back of the Malfoy residential, cursing Harry’s name, thinking up elaborate and satisfying ways to get back at him. I wanted to see him plead at my feet for me to kill him. I imagined using the cruciatus curse on him over and over. I wandered into Muggle territory, deciding to take my frustration out on them. A couple of boys with glasses and snotty Harry attitudes laughed at my robes. I imagined using cruciatus curse on them, but realized that would get me into even more trouble. Instead, I bought their clothes off them, taking the jeans and tie off one and shirt and shoes off the other. They seemed to think I was odd for paying two-hundred muggle dollars for the lot.

Now I could walk the muggle neighbour hood and fit in. Past one muggle shop advertizing odd muggle fashion that seemed to comprise of wearing the least amount of material as possible, I saw a familiar figure. Severus Snape strode towards me. A wave of pleasure washed over me. Finally, someone who I knew liked me! I stepped up to him and gave him my most dazzling smile.

"Hello, Severus."

He nodded barely acknowledging me with his eyes. "Malfoy."

He continued on his way. I sat down against the muggle window, feeling deflated, wanting to cry, wanting to scream, wanting to run out into the street and tear thick chunks out of my hair. The boy’s cruel jest on the train returned to me. So, I was only put up with because of my father or because I was a potential fuck. Why did Severus Snape put up with me, then? He hates my father and I couldn’t imagine him wanting to screw anyone. In fact, I think the idea would repulse him to the point of making him physically vomit. Then it came to me.

Because I stroked his ego.

I placed my head in my hands. Crabbe and Goyle, they were always just morons. Not a brain cell between them. Marcus Flint, he liked me because of what I could use my influence for. Then there were the other Slytherins who made bets on who would be the first to ‘deflower’ the virgin. I believe Gemma Blackshaw won that one, in my last desperate attempt to assure myself of my own ‘heterosexuality.’ And Harry, he had put up with me… this was where I stopped short. I knew he didn’t like Lucius and I far from stroked his ego. In fact, I would say the most spiteful things and he’d still come back to me. Him using me for sex didn’t seem to fit. Admittedly, that seemed more the actions of a Slytherin than Griffindor. A Slytherin would brag to the entire school and give intimate details, even going so far as to make the partner out to be extremely passive. (So why didn’t you? After all, you bagged Harry Potter! I pushed the thought from my head). Harry had written the ! letter but, rather than an attempt to brag to the entire of Hogwarts, it came across more as a… what? A declaration of amazement as to what he was feeling.

Hooter squawked in her cage beside me.

"No." I told her. "I won’t do it."

She squawked again. "Why should I?" I sighed, answering for myself.

Who else can you go to?

I hadn’t expected him to answer the letter. I toughened myself to stay in his muggle park for an hour and then leave. (Jump off a bridge, maybe?) But, surely enough, it was not long before the familiar raven haired figure walked towards me. There were times at Hogwarts where just looking at him would drive me insane. This was one of those circumstances. I just wanted to do him right there on the weird muggle contraption I had been standing on that had something to do with gravity. I couldn’t understand how they could get any enjoyment out of it.

He was cold, at first. I just wanted to touch his hair. I loved the way it curled and waved into the usual unruly messy clump. My obsession with running my fingers through it usually humored him. Not that day. Pain tapped at my heart as he ducked out of my way. I tried to loosen him by telling him about Snape. He merely nodded in acknowledgement.

Come on, Harry. You’re killing me here.

It was my mention of Lucius that sparked his green eyes. Again I cursed myself and him in my own mind. Why was it that I could keep nothing from him? He even got out of me that I didn’t trust anyone else to go to.

"Your Harry Potter. You can figure out anything. The great Voldermont destroyer."

He had frozen me using a spell. At that point, he suddenly reached a finger up to touch my cheek, where the bruise had faded. His touch was like pouring cold water onto the flames in my heart. I suddenly realized I didn’t want him to touch me. In fact, I resented it. Here we were again, Harry Potter with the power. I couldn’t even move!

He put his hand down, looking as miserable as I felt. "I didn’t mean it, what I said on the train. I just wanted to get to you."

I felt a great weight lift off my heart. I realized I had known all along. He hadn’t used me. It wasn’t about using me, or getting back at me. Then what was it about? My mind flashed to the moment on the train when I had said the line about him and Ron. The look of pure hurt and anger on his face. I had said it to hurt him. And it had worked. But I didn’t mean it either. The truth was, I hated him. I hated him so much that I couldn’t see him, couldn’t allow him to see…

But the bastard got it out of me. No tricks, no ploys as I perhaps would. He doubted my reason for coming, perhaps knowing me too well. He yelled at me that I was simply using him to solve the problem. Then, after releasing me from the spell, he simply outright asked me. My reaction gave it away. I allowed the mask to slip, allowed him to see my embarrassment

If he doesn’t feel the same way…

He threatened to use Truth serum on me, to force it down my throat until I confessed my love. I was genuinely shocked about this. This would be the conduct of a Slytherin (of me), not him. But, I could see from the fire in the jade depth of his eyes that he meant it. So in pure anger, controlling my shaking hands wanting to wrap around his throat, I told him the truth.

The fact was that I had fallen for my arch-nemesis.

And I hated both him and myself for it.

But something changed on his face. Indeed, his own answer lay in those jade depths. He stepped towards me, gently tilting my chin slightly to meet his lips.

Only we were interrupted. Into the clearing waddled the largest boy I have ever seen. I could almost hear Harry’s inner groan.

Ah, so finally I get to meet the ‘family’. Harry had made the occasional reference to them but that did not compare to seeing such porkers. Indeed, his cousin, Dudley, was positively disgusting. I told him so. Dudley moved over to me as Harry’s Uncle Vernon gloated over finally catching Pansy Harry out. He was looking at me in a way that sent a jolt of anger down my spine.

How dare he! How dare this MUGGLE even glance at me! When he reached up to touch me, I roughly grabbed the offending arm.

"Hey, hands off, fatboy."

Disgusting pig. He should have been dead, surely, at his size. The Uncle, too.

Harry’s Uncle started to shake him. This was too much. I would make sure he paid for touching him. I stepped forward, letting go of Dudley’s arm. The boy jumped me. I have never had anyone be so forward. But then he was a muggle. They simply can’t control themselves.

He literally jumped on me, wrapping his arms around my chest. Fear exploded over my body as I felt his lips on my ear. I angled to the left, throwing him roughly to the ground. Bastard! I felt dirtied by the muggle’s touch. This was the worst thing that had ever happened to me. And that it was a muggle…

I used the spell on them, turning them into the rats they were. The boy, Dudley, he wasn’t fit to live. He deserved to be squashed flat under my shoe. Only Harry wouldn’t allow it. To my amazement, he wanted us to find them.

And so we searched the area. All the time, I was considering whether to just walk away. I didn’t want to do this right now. This was beyond me. My pride told me so. But then, when was the last time I used it? As though reading my thoughts, Harry asked me about the damned Slytherin hick on the train. I shrugged it off. Damn him. Why was he continually bringing up things I would prefer be kept silent? The thought occurred that it was karma of some kind, for my continual abuse of him.

No. That’s unfair.

It was ironic, I guess, that I was the one that spotted the two fatties and disenchanted them to their normal size again. It was to my utter amazement that fatty wanted me to apologize to his son. I looked to Harry, suddenly feeling a burst of pride for him. He lived with these people for seventeen years. And they were obviously insane. I was positive if I had to spend one day with them I would soon be in Askaban for mass torture and murder.

Me apologize to this sick piggy fucking molester! This was unbelievable. It was almost as though I’d stepped into some surreal new world. I told them straight, exactly what they were. They were not pleased. Indeed, the Uncle looked as though he wanted to kill me.

Of all people, Remus Lupin came to our rescue. He did the Petrificus spell on Dudley and the Uncle, freezing them to the ground. I moved back, suddenly deciding that maybe now was a good time to leave. I didn’t like Lupin. No, that wasn’t true. I frowned on his lack of taste in clothes. Indeed, it was frustrating. He was a good looking man. Why did he insist on dressing beneath himself? At least Sirius knew how to dress. Sirius. Harry’s god father. Cleared of the murder of all those muggles so many years ago. Lucius, of course, was convinced that he did it. Even when Peter was found to be the culprit, Lucius continued to block his ears and eyes from the truth.

And here he was, smiling at Harry, engulfing him in a hug. I hated them. Both of them. That they could be in a relationship and have no one complain, or even glance their way. That they were accepted, while Harry and I…

Of course, Sirius had won custody of Harry. Now all three could live together as a perfect fucking family. Why was I being punished? What had I done to be put through such agony?

Sirius turned to look at me. I could see confusion and anger in those dark eyes. He hated me, I knew. If only because I was a replica of Lucius.

"This has to do with the trial, doesn’t it?" I glanced at Harry. He looked as bewildered as I.

Remus now looked at me. "You’re going to give evidence against your father?"

I felt my heart start to hammer, a knot twisting in my stomach, pulling tighter and tighter. No, this can’t be-

"Daddy was cleared of all wrong doings."

"There was one witness he couldn’t silence."

"None other than our dear friend Ludo Bagman."

Everything connected at that point. It was as though a piece in a jigsaw puzzle that had puzzled me for a while suddenly clicked into place. Whispered conversations, locked rooms, Daddy going away for long periods of time. Daddy not being the same man when he came back. Daddy wondering the house, in a daze.

No, this couldn’t be happening. Please, I can’t, I just can’t-

Harry caught up with me on the road, apparated right in front of me. I couldn’t bear to be near him then. Couldn’t have him look at me with such pity. He turned to walk away.

"I didn’t think he could do it."

"Why do you care? They were only muggles or mudbloods."

The tone of his voice, the iciness of his eyes. He had plunged his wand straight into my heart and tore it out. All the while, I was thinking why did I care? Why did I allow him to get to me?

"I don’t know what you want! Harry, this is the best-"

But he cut me off, once more and shattered my soul into little pieces.

"I pity you, Malfoy. Your best is everyone else’s worst. And that includes muggles and mudbloods."

To have him say it. The boy who lived. The boy who I always tried so hard to live up to, to overtake. The boy I would always be in the shadow of. Why did I have to be perfect for them? Why couldn’t they take me as I was? I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t do it any more.

So I cried. Not even with that, could I succeed. Lucius had taught me that emotions made one weak. Once more, I had failed. Was this my lot, to never succeed?

I apparated, needing to get as far away from him as possible. I appeared in front of the Malfoy house. Who am I? Lucius wanted me to be like him, a twisted, ugly narcissist. Harry wanted to mold me into his own version of who he thought I should be.

He doesn’t know me, I thought, sadly. No one does. Not even me.

Harry, he persists in seeing me as the villain, Again and again.

I thought back to my fourth year at Hogwarts. Cedric. The first twinge that maybe my fancy directed more towards boys than girls. Of course, I detested him, perhaps even more because of the bizarre emotions I was feeling. I caused a stir for a while creating badges that promoted him above Harry in the triwizard tournament. Harry wasn’t well liked, anyway, for which I was happy.

But then Cedric died. Murdered by Voldermont himself. He was the first.

He was only a mudblood. I told it to myself again and again, drilled it into my brain. It became my mantra.

In the great hall, Dumbledore had told the truth about what happened. He had been murdered by the one my father idolized, the one he was grooming me to serve under. I don’t even remember what I said to Goyle. But I caught Harry looking at me, the usual look of superiority in his eyes. Of course, in his mind, I had been speaking derogatorily about Cedric. Obviously. Well, I decided that if he needed me to play the villain, then I would.

So, I confronted him on the train. I spilled out four years of frustration and anger, hiding it behind smugness and superiority. It was one thing Daddy had taught me well in. If he insisted on throwing me over for mudbloods like Hermione and Ron, then so be it. Voldermont would kill him. I was blunt, told him the truth. They would all die, as Cedric had.

The poor bastard.

But Harry had defeated Voldermont, with the help of Sirius, Remus, Snape, Mcgonagall and his two friends. The wizard world was safe once more. As were muggles.

I looked up to the mansion, hundreds of darkened windows staring down at me.

Why do you come here, little dragon? You are not welcome.

I walked up the gravel road, head hung low in despair.

TBC

Perfect- Alannis Morisette (Of course, copyrighted to Goddess. I’m just using it for reference.)

Sometimes, it’s never quite enough

If you’re flawless then you’ll win my love

Don’t forget to win first place

Don’t forget to keep that smile on your face

Be a good boy. Try a little harder

You’ve got to measure up. Make me prouder

How long before you screw it up?

And how many times do I have to tell you to hurry up?

With everything I do for you, the least you can to is keep quiet.

Be a good girl. You gotta try a little harder

That simply wasn’t good enough to make us proud

I’ll live through you, I’ll make you what I never was

If you’re the best then maybe so am I compared to him, compared to her

I’m doing this for your own damned good.

You’ll make up for what I blow. What’s the problem, now?

Why are you crying?

Be a good boy. Push a little farther, now

That simply wasn’t fast enough to make us happy

We’ll love you just the way you are.

If you’re perfect