MultiFandom Fan Fiction

As If (Drarry)

Harry's POV:

It's over. It's all finally over. I finally defeated Voldemort.

I was walking into what used to be the Great Hall to find everybody. I saw Hermione and smiled, but she only half smiled. That's when I saw Fred's body lying dead on the floor surrounded by the rest of the Weasleys. I decided to leave to give them their space.

Just sitting on the steps felt kind of nice. You know, not to have to try and defeat Voldemort. But something kept nagging at me. I'm not gonna say I don't know what it is since I know exactly what it is.

Draco

I watched him get hauled off with his parents to the ministry. He didn't deserve to go to wherever they were taking him. He didn't exactly have a choice. It's not just that, though. Even if he was set free, I'd probably never see him again.

The time we spent arguing with each other was, believe it or not, highlights of my days at Hogwarts. It gave me an excuse to talk to him everyday. Also to just to stare at him making it look like a sneer or a glare.

I've liked Draco for a long like. Well, liked is an understatement, but still; ever since third year, I've taken an interest to him. It kind of pained me to have hate him for the past seven years. It also hurt knowing his hatred for me was real.

He seemed to enjoy the taunting though. What if he felt back for me too.

Huh, as if.

Draco's POV

As we were being taken away by the ministry, I saw Harry come out of the crumbled building and sit on the step. He was probably waiting for weaslette.

Or not.

He just sat there. He looked kind of pained and sad. He must of been exhausted. I mean, he did defeat one of the most powerful dark wizards ever. He really is great.

It hurt to see him like that. Or hurt at all. Truth be told, I fancy Harry.

He hates me though; ever since first year. Ever since he rejected my attempt at friendship. Okay, so maybe being rude and insulting his friend wasn't the smartest move, but I was only eleven. His hatred didn't ease up as we got older, either. Our arguing got worse, if anything. I'm pretty sure he hated me more with each waking day. I mean, I would catch him sneering and glaring at me even when I was paying no mind to him, which was rare.

I'd stare at him, constantly staring into his emerald green eyes; the best eyes I've ever seen.

He never seemed to get the hint behind my stares though. It was supposed to be a subtle hint of a show of affection, but he always just glared back at me. I even gave hum that drawing of him playing quidditch in third year. That's when I first started to fancy him. Granted, it had a picture of him being struck my lighting on it, but he lived so it was somewhat nice. To be fair though, I shaped it like a swan and blew it to him as a kiss. He just crumbled it up and threw it away.

He could never like me back. He did smile every once in a while during his usual glares, though.

What if he actually fancied me too.

Yeah, as if