Happyily ever after?

Chapter 11

Harry: Biting my nails I stand infront of Malfoy's door.

Should I knock?

I've been nervous the whole morning. The night in the Forbidden Forest echos in my head - memories have been flooding my mind. Everytime my heart rate would raise and my head would get hotter. I know I shouldn't feel this. I still haven't figured out what his plan is eventhough after everything I don't want to belive he could hurt people. But what else could his intention possibly be? Maybe he just has a big crush. I don't want to go in - not because I don't want to see him - because I don't want to feel that feeling again.

Not around him.

Malfoy: Tense I pick on my hair trying to make it look less messy. But it's hopeless. I stare into the mirror hating myself for what I see.

Don't be so nervous! It's not like this is a date...only partner work.

He would never date you anyway. Even if you weren't a former Death Eater or didn't have the annoyingst personality. I mean look at you...

I turn away from the mirror to stop my thoughts. But the image of myself is burned into my mind.

You can't even do your hair properly. Not that it would change anything, you look ugly with sorted hair, too. Nothing you can change about your pale skin or gigantic nose or scrawny body or the ridiclouse - Stop!

I press my hands on my ears to shut the voices out. With tears rushing down my face I put on another sweater and pinch the skin on my face brining colour to it. Sighing I sit down on my bed.

This is bullshit. Maybe I should cancle our meeting.

My heart aches at the thought of it but I feel so uncomfortable, so ugly. I don't want him to see me.

He doesn't care. Why would he? You're just some boy he does school stuff with. He's Harry Potter. How high are the chances that he's into boys....like zero. And then you...? Hahaha nope.

Uneasy I scrach my neck.

knock knock.

I startle.

It's him.

[reminder: This was Draco's selfhatre speaking. I think he's beautiful - so does Harry & you probably. The features he doesn't like are not ugly how his selfhatre says. I mean not in my opinion at least. Personally I think pale skin, big/characteristic noses and scrawny bodies are gorgeous. But it doesn't matter. Beauty is a social construct anyway and opinions on it, are just opinions. There is no ultimate truth about how you look.]

Potter: I knock. After a few long seconds Malfoy opens up.

Puuuh.

I already though I was at the wrong door. I start smiling until I see his red eyes and irritated skin. Then my smile fades into a worried expression.

What happened?

"Wha...?" He tries really hard to look okay - it doesn't work. "Hey, I told you not to hide your feelings around me.

I step into his room and close the door. "What happened?" I stand infront of him analysing his face. Ashamed he turns his head away and makes a step back.

Why is he avoiding me?

I step forward and pull him into a hug. Although I intended it to be more of a I
-hold-him-situation, it's only a hug. I'm too small to really hold him. Instead I 'm stroking his back clinging to his body. I can feel him sobbing while my head snuggles into his chest. His chin dwelling on my head he just crys. When he calmed down a little, I lift my head to look into his eyes - he has his face averted from me. So I put my hands around it wiping away his tears. He's forced to look at me.

"What happened to you? Why are you so red?" His head turns even redder. Carefully I track the red colour with my fingers. "You know whatever did this. You should get rid of it." I try to loosen up the situation. "It kinda ruins your stunning snowlike skin." I giggle and offer a uplifting smile. Malfoy looks at me with blank confusion. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I shouldn't joke when you're clearly struggling." I smile apologetly and run my fingers through his hair messing it up.

Malfoy: "stunning snowlike skin?!?!" If I didn't know better, he just complimeted my skin.

What's he doing now?

Don't mess up my hair! I spend the whole morning trying to make it look good.

But Harry seems so fascinated with his full concentration on my hair. Whenever his finger touch my head, my heart stops for a blink. He takes a step back and assesses his work with satisfaction.

He likes the hairstyle.

I turn my head to the mirror . My hair is a mess - it looks like I just woke up. My I-justwoke-up- look satisfies him. My chest fills with warmth.

"Do you wanna tell me what happened? It's fine if you don't. I can just come back tomorrow." He directs his attention to me again making my knees weak.

"NO" It's a little loud. "Stay...please" I add shy.