Mixed Messages (A Drarry Fanfic)

If You Don't Even Love Me

(Draco)

Draco stormed to Herbology, inwardly cursing himself. When had ever been so...needy? It was fine. He didn't care who Harry dated...right? He spotted Crabbe and Goyle, waiting like little loyal pets outside the Herbology door. Each brightened, and Goyle had the nerve to wave to him. Draco walked up to Goyle and slapped his hand away.
     "Move."
Crabbe and Goyle quickly scrambled out of his way, watching him intently. Draco felt their stares on him, causing his neck to turn red with anger, humiliation, and embarrassment. He whirled to face them.
     "Have something to say to me?"
Crabbe and Goyle looked at each other in fear, and finally Crabbe mumbled "Uh...are you okay?" Draco let out a snarl and rolled his eyes.    "Well, what does it look like? No. I'm not okay, I never am, Brainless."
He turned and entered his least favorite class.

Draco watched Crabbe and Goyle cautiously enter behind him from his peripheral vision. He plopped in to his normal seat and stared straight forward, not daring to look at them. He didn't speak to them again until lunch.

Draco had almost forgotten about his blow up at Crabbe and Goyle by the time lunch rolled around. He was immersed in the roast beef and rolls when he accidentally made eye contact with Harry, who was staring at him. Draco spluttered, choked, and sent pieces of roll flying from his mouth. Elegant. He heard Goyle drop his fork beside him, and felt Crabbe grab him by the stomach, the oaf obviously trying to give him Heimlich. Draco swatted then away, trying to maintain eye contact with Harry. He was turning to Hermione and Ron, nudging them to look at Draco. Draco's face went scarlet. "How dare they laugh at me?" He thought furiously, still trying to battle Crabbe and Goyle away from him.
     "Merlins beard! Leave me alone, I'm fine! Cut it out!" Draco finally shouted, glancing to look at them.
They both dropped their hands and stared sullenly at their food.
     "Stop making a scene," he ordered.

When Draco regained a bit of dignity, he glanced over at Harry. He had his back to him and was talking to Ginny.
   "Filthy blood traitors.." Draco muttered, stabbing his fork aggressively into his beef.
He noticed Crabbe and Goyle inch away from him. "Good. I don't need anyone, especially not Potter," Draco thought. He spied Ginny glancing at him with a confused look on her face. Draco leaned forward, pricking his ears towards their conversation. They looked awfully suspicious over there. Harry glanced right at Draco, causing Draco to scramble for Crabbe, and strike up a pointless conversation. All the while, he watched them. It was obvious they were talking about him, but what were they saying? Draco suddenly felt like a slab of concrete smashed into his stomach. "Are they going to turn me in?" He quickly shook his head. "Never mind, Snape will take care of me."

Draco spent the rest of supper trying to hear their conversation. "If they aren't going to turn me in, why are they taking about me...unless it's because of what I said when I saw them today? When I accidentally almost confessed to Potter?" Immediately, Draco felt like slapping himself. "Confess what? I have nothing to confess, unless it's my raging hatred for him." He shoveled a spoonful of peas into his mouth without noticing, and almost choked again.    "Ugh. Bloody peasant food." He muttered, causing Crabbe and Goyle to look at him, confused.

Later that night in the Slytherin common room, Draco stalked over to his minions, his mind made up. Whatever they thought of him wasn't his fault. "It's not like they think much at all," Draco thought with a smirk.
    "Oi, Goyle. Crabbe. Get over here." Summoning all the courage he had, he muttered "do you think Potter could ever be....you know, interested in me?"
Both of the oafs stared at him in bewilderment.   "....interested," Goyle said slowly, like he was unfamiliar with the word. Crabbe scrunched up his nose, his thinking face on.
     "But....isn't he dating Ginny?"
     "Yes, he's dating the Weaselette, but if he wasn't, do you think he'd- you know what, forget it. I'm surrounded by bloody idiots. I'm going to bed, don't disturb me again."

Draco stalked you his bed and yanked the emerald curtains closed. He hated himself for thinking they looked like Harry's eyes. He often fell asleep at night, imagining they were, and he was keeping Draco safe. Not that he'd ever tell anyone that, of course. This time, seeing his curtains made him angry.
    "Stop following me everywhere, Potter. Stop haunting me," his voice broke, "if you don't even love me back."