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Chapter 2✨3rdpovharry✨
Draco Malfoy seemed determined to make Harry's life a living hell. He seemed extremely pleased with his decision to leave Harry to walk to Hogwarts in the pouring rain, if his loud comments in the hall and at breakfast were any clue. Ron and Hermione were trying their best to cheer him up, and he was trying his best to put on a brave face and act like it wasn't affecting him. As Hermione insisted on telling him every time he wasn't smiling, "Malfoy was looking to get a rise out of him, if he didn't pay attention Malfoy would get bored and cut it out." Except he didn't fully believe it, it seemed that no matter what he did or how he reacted, Malfoy seemed hell bent on making him miserable.Though Harry would never admit it, and had barely admitted it to himself, Draco Malfoy did affect him. His first few years at Hogwarts Malfoy had been nothing to him, a pesky insect he could swat aside whenever he pleased. However deep into his fourth year he could remember almost exactly when Malfoy's comments started getting to him. Malfoy was a bully. He always had been, people he considered less than, he trampled over. And Harry privately wondered what he was going through that made him feel the need to be the way he was. Harry had also never considered himself weak. But so where down the line, that began to change. It wasn't comments about his lack luster potions, or even jabs at his parent's death. No, what hurt Harry the most was that deep down he'd begun to wonder if what Malfoy said about him was true.
He began to wonder if he was a fraud after all. The entire wizarding world expected greatness from him, but he had always been ordinary. Just Harry. Thoughts like this kept him up late into the night. Sure, he'd done things in his year at Hogwarts that others considered great for his age, but none of that would've been possible without Hermione's quick wit, and Ron's friendship. In fact, he started to believe that without help, he was nothing but lucky in all the trials he had faced thus far.
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It was a few hours after his last class of the week, Malfoy passed him in the hall and said something somewhat trivial. In hindsight Harry could barely remember what it was, but it was the last straw. He sucked in a breath, and clenched his fists. Walking away with burning eyes and huge lump in his throat. He found himself bursting into an empty classroom, desperate to escape Malfoy before he started to cry. He felt weaker than ever as he slumped to the floor in the corner of the dusty classroom. He buried his head in his knees feeling a surge of shame wash over him.
The tears were inevitable but he contained his sobs by placing a shaking hand firmly over his mouth. He felt utterly alone. More alone than he ever had with the Dursleys. Perhaps because, his home was no longer the safe place it had once been. Minutes passed him by as he stayed unmoving, crying into his knees and watching tears drop from the tip of his nose. The door to the classroom burst open. Harry didn't dare look up, he knew who it was instinctually. Draco Malfoy strode into the room, shutting the door firmly behind him. Harry felt genuine fear prickle unpleasantly through his body as he heard footsteps growing nearer to him.
Draco Malfoy had been harmless. Just a bully, nothing more. That simply wasn't the case then. He was afraid because he didn't want to believe what Malfoy said, but he was truly starting to and it hurt.
"Are you seriously crying?" Malfoy asked, but his voice didn't possess the edge it usually did. Harry didn't look up. He didn't want to give the other the satisfaction of seeing him with blotchy red eyes and tears streaming down his cheeks. He didn't dare speak. He didn't want it to crack. "Look Potter I'm-"
Harry had had enough. It was one thing to be ridiculed and made a fool of on a consistent basis, but for his nemesis to come and try to apologize was simply to much. As if he could say he was sorry and make the years of torment go away. "Why do you hate me so much?" Harry asked, talking into his knees.
Malfoy didn't speak for a while. Harry felt small, with Malfoy standing over him, perhaps smaller than he'd ever felt. And venerable, so terribly venerable. "I don't hate you Potter." Malfoy's voice was softer than Harry had ever heard it, and slightly strained.
"Then why?" Harry didn't have to describe what he meant. Malfoy wasn't dim, he knew Harry was referring to the recent step up in his taunting.
"I like seeing your reaction." Malfoy admitted. He kneeled down beside Harry, and procured a handkerchief from the pocket of his robes. Malfoy tipped his chin up lightly with his index finger and began wiping the tears from Harry's cheeks. He swiped Harry's glasses off his face and dried them too. Harry stared at him in awe, though without his glasses Malfoy was blurry. It was almost easier that way, he didn't have to see the softness of Draco's expression.
He didn't have to admit to himself that he had craved that expression for years.
Harry blinked as Malfoy slid his glasses back onto his face. Harry looked down, not daring to face the Slytherin directly. Only Malfoy had other plans. Again he tipped his chin up gently. Harry sniffled and chanced a glance up into a pair of silvery grey eyes. They lacked their usual edge and if Harry hadn't stopped himself he might've even considered them beautiful.
"I'm sorry, l'll be nicer from here on." Malfoy said sincerely. Though somehow Harry had a hard time believing that would happen.
"I'll quote you on that." Harry snorted at the ridiculousness of the situation he was in. One look at Malfoy though, and his hesitant smile quickly dropped. Malfoy looked extremely guilty, and a determined sort of look had taken over. His lips were pressed together in a slight frown.
"No you won't." Malfoy said, if Harry wasn't mistaken Malfoy sounded something close to melancholy.
"Wh-" Harry's eyes widened as Malfoy drew his want, pointing it directly between his eyes.
"Obliviate."
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⚡️Obliviate//Drarry mpreg
Fanfiction✨⚡️✨ Harry Potter's desire to have a quiet, uneventful final year at Hogwarts was a fruitless one, as instead he received, an immense supply of the exact opposite. What will become of the boy who lived when faced with a rivalry turned romantic, an u...