The Scent Of Malice | drarry

seventeen | make it hurt

Harry decided not to go straight to Ron and Hermione about Malfoy's wandering hands in that class - he might have understood the other boy's motives himself, but he knew they wouldn't, and it would be easier to keep it secret.

But that didn't mean he stopped thinking about it, of course. Malfoy's sheer willingness to inflict pain and play with Harry's emotions never failed to amaze him, even now after so much had happened between the two of them.

People are fragile things, you have to be careful with their minds and their hearts and their bones, he thought. But Malfoy does the exact opposite. I wonder if he'd kill me if he got a chance.

It was a rather unnerving thought and Harry shrugged it off quickly, but the fact that it had even occurred to him spoke volumes. He supposed there was just no way for him to tell what level of sadism Malfoy would go to for his own malicious pleasure, but he'd be better off putting a stop to it fast before he got seriously hurt.

But suddenly, a realisation began to dawn on Harry, and the constant infliction of pain began to make sense.

The whole thing in Astronomy had been very bizarre behaviour simply for the sake of proving a point, and Harry realised now why Malfoy couldn't leave him alone - it went far further than ego, or point-scoring, or hate, though of course those were factors.

"You're more like me than you'd care to admit, Malfoy," Harry mused as he headed for the bathroom for a hot bath before the evening's Quidditch practice. He'd use the time to mull the situation over before seeing Malfoy again on the pitch, when the Gryffindor fixture would inevitably overrun into Slytherin's time. And then he'd have his chance to confront him.

***

Malfoy understood exactly what Harry meant when he pulled him aside after the Slytherin practice that night, though he pretended not to.

"Look, Malfoy, we can either discuss what I have to say in private in the changing rooms, or we can discuss it loudly here in front of everyone else," Harry snapped, "And if we stay out here, I'm more than happy to lie in order to embarrass you. So it's your decision."

"Changing rooms," Malfoy growled, before following the other boy into the dark.

The Gryffindor changing rooms were empty, their House practice having technically finished twenty minutes earlier, and for this fact both boys were relieved. Too much of their dirty laundry had already been aired for the school to see; they appreciated any privacy.

The bruise from Harry's punch was fading from Malfoy's cheek now but it was still just about there, blue enough to still hurt, and Harry grabbed a rough hold of the other boy's jaw to press his thumb into the mark the second they were alone. Then he forced Malfoy down hard onto one of the benches, while he himself stayed standing, staring down his nose with hostility. It was an excellent way of making sure he had the blonde's full, wide-eyed attention.

Malfoy surprisingly didn't resist at any point, though pain flashed through his eyes as Harry gripped harder. Pain was evident in his mouth too, in the corner where his teeth bit into his lip.

"I've decided I've had enough now of you and your fucking ego, Malfoy," Harry lashed the words out angrily, enjoying the other boy's lack of resistance for once. "You've got this primal need to hurt me all the time and it's getting ridiculous. It's all you, you, you, constantly, isn't it? As if my brain didn't give me enough thoughts about you as it was to begin with. But now I know why you do it."

"It's not my fault you've got this weird fixated crush on me," Malfoy attempted to bat the accusation away through gritted teeth, but Harry only laughed spitefully.