He's known since the beginning that whatever this is -- was -- between him and Malfoy was just purely physical. Malfoy had made that abundantly clear. Harry, however, had fallen far too fast and too deep. It didn't make much sense back then and it s...
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Draco
~oOo~
"You're a bloody fool, Draco Lucius Malfoy." Pansy Parkinson sighs, squeezing Draco's arm as they stand by the bar, watching Harry Potter and Ginevra Weasley waltz gracefully around the dancefloor.
Draco is unable to take his eyes away from the painful scene playing out before him. They look so fucking inlove with one another that it makes Draco's stomach twist and churn. The Golden Couple. They're indeed a sight to behold; a match made in heaven. Draco could never — wouldnever — amount to much. Not after his role in the War. Potter was and always will be too good for him.
Draco and Potter had become friends during their Eighth Year. Good friends, in fact. But Draco, acting on some severely repressed desires, turned that friendship into something more. Draco knew he was digging his own bloody grave, but he couldn't help himself. He wanted Potter. He always has. But lust had quickly turned into something else for Draco — something so much deeper that he didn't dare acknowledge or give a name to.
Friends with benefits.
Fuck buddies.
That was all they ever were, nothing more. And Draco had died a little inside after each secret encounter. Draco wanted more. He wanted the impossible. He knew then he had to let go. If not for his peace of mind, then for his own sanity and what was left of his heart. Draco had started it all, so he deemed it appropriate that he end it himself.
And so, Draco had said goodbye and walked away, but he couldn't escape Potter's phantom. Five years since he'd last seen him and still, even now, Draco's heart aches at the sight of Potter's lopsided grin as he beams warmly at Ginevra Weasley.
Draco has missed him. Terribly. He's never been able to forget about Potter. Merlin knows he's tried.
Draco Malfoy, a homosexual man, married to a woman for four years, and yet here he is, still pining after Harry Potter — the man who will never feel the same way for Draco as Draco feels for him; the man who had only ever thought of Draco as a friend.
Pansy is right. Draco is a fool.
"Oh, for Salazar's sake!" Pansy snorts beside him. "Are they really snogging?"
