Emerald & Silver readers: This is a one-shot. I'm starting off small, I hope you like. I apologise for Emerald and Silver. I can't write on it so I took it off. My writing is a touch different now and I couldn't find a way to make my writing fit with my old writing. However, I vow to never post a story that is not finished and placed on disk, to save from irritating and frustration. This IS just a one-shot and I doubt it'll be anything else. The idea came from a song video I saw on Youtube. It sort of helped me get back to it. I hope its alright and I've edited the best that I can...

BY: A.J.

I said never again!

I meant it.

Or so I thought I meant it. I'm not entirely sure, but I'm a train wreck. I feel as though I am paralyzed on the train tracks and it's impossible to move from where I am. It seems, every time I push you away you come crawling back with that sweet mouth of yours, tasting and touching what you ought not be touching.

I shouldn't be letting you do this. I should be shoving you away and cursing you back to the Slytherin hole you came from. But, you taste so wonderful and whenever you smirk you make me weak in the knees.

NO! This can't continue any longer. This is killing me and it's more scandalous than my rendezvous with Cedric Diggory while he was seeing Cho. Every time I try to concentrate on someone else, there you are - you pop up with that sneer that graces your icy features and those eyes of silver – they make me crave something even more delightful and delicious.

So forbidden, so wrong. I can't do this. You can't make me do this. No more, I say. I swear to you there will never be another time like this. I can't stand you! I hate you so much – but – I want you. I find myself craving your very affection until I am rolling on the stone floor, grabbing at your trouser legs begging you to stay and give me more.

I say never again and I turn into a traitor. I turn into the traitor that I don't want to be. I'm seventeen years old, with my own life – my own mate and I don't need you!! Or so I tell myself.

Damn hormones.

I hate this and I hate you – yes, yes, you heard me. I hate you. How much more can I tell you, that I simply despise your being? Even though the touch of your fingers against my flesh makes me shiver and the goose bumps become enticing and the taste of your lips make the addiction more wanton

I still hate you.

You shouldn't be allowed to do this to me. You're wrecking my life.

You've chosen your side. You've chosen your enemies, now leave me be! Stop coming around and injecting your poison into my veins like a drug. I don't want you – okay, yes I do want you, but I don't need you – Oh, hell, that's a fucking lie as well.

Damn you and your wicked ways of seducing me!!!

Damn you for the way you taste

And damn you for the way you feel, inside of me.

What the fuck do you want me to do? I'm going out of my mind and it's all because of you. It's your goddamn fault that this is going on. You started it and you wont' stop it.

Why? Do you enjoy seeing me in turmoil? Does it make you hot? Do you love the chase? Me pleading for no more – even though my body yearns. Does that get you off?

I hate you!

I hate you!

I love you

But damn you I hate you Draco Arcanias Malfoy.

And I don't know why the fuck that is….

Harry Potter

The roaring sound in his ears became too much and he grabbed the journal he had been writing in and threw it against the wall. His emerald eyes blazing like fire and his face flushed to hotness. The journal smacked the wall and then slid down with a clatter, its spine splitting in half.

Harry turned away, his ebony black hair was long and it fell around his oval shaped face, that had tension sunk deep inside the creases of his frown and wrinkles in his forehead. The sweat dripped from him and it was as if the heat in the room had been turned up to the fullest. He breathed deeply through his nose and out his mouth. His eyes narrowed. He was standing there in front of the table no shirt on and his slender frame shivering slightly. There was red marks along his chest from the workout he had put himself through to try and make himself forget.

To forget everything that had been going on within the last few weeks.

How the fuck did this happen? Harry asked himself, as he raced his fingers through his unruly hair. How did this come about? How did he wind up, in Draco Malfoy's bed? Not only once and not only twice, but a number of times that was becoming uncountable.

Harry heaved a strong sigh and sank down in his chair, and glared at the journal he had been writing in.

He was sitting in the common room of the Heads of Hogwarts. He had become Head Boy and his best friend Hermione was Head Girl, however there was also the Head Prefects, one from each house, which consisted of his other best friend Ron Weasley, Justin Finch-Fletchly, Lisa Turpin, and the one that Harry's anger was centered around, the Slytherin bastard that the whole school either loved or hated. Draco Malfoy.

The gorgeous Slytherin was damn well infuriating and it was his fault. All of his fucking fault.

Harry bowed his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. He had been taking his anger and frustrations out in the Heads gym room, but when that didn't work, he grabbed his journal and got right to work. It didn't help cool him off, in fact the thought of crawling into Draco's bed was causing his whole body to react violently.

What the fuck had to give? This was unreal. This could not happen, hell no!

"Ooh, my Harry is sweaty." Said a coquettish voice. "He's kind of sexy when he's sweaty."

Harry's eyes closed, not wanting to look at him. His mind was reeling, with endless thoughts.

Draco Malfoy stood in the firelight staring at the boy-who-lived, his silvery orbs penetrating his very skull and siphoning out the thoughts. His pale hair flickered forward like a spider in his eyes. He glanced to the side at the book that lay broken. Hesitate, he did not, he waltzed across the carpeted floor, knelt down and scooped it up in his hands.

After about five minutes of looking it over, Draco slowly walked over and lay it open on the table and flicked through it for several moments – certain lines of Harry's messy scrawl sticking out more than others.

"I wind you up that much – huh?" Draco's smirk widened, and Harry was forced to raise his head and open his eyes.

Emerald eyes drilled into Draco's silver orbs; "This isn't some joke, Draco. I am a loyal person and it's killing me – that I am breaking everything I believe in."

Draco tilted his head to the side and he swayed around his fingers touching Harry's sweaty bare shoulders. "My sweaty Harry…"

"I'm not yours." Harry breathed, finding his eyes staring down at the parchment scattered everywhere.

"You're not?" asked Draco, in a soft taunt. He wrapped his arms around Harry's neck and leaned in closer and then hissed into Harry's ear, "Oh, but I believe you are. I mean – I wouldn't dream of touching anyone else's sweaty body – but yours entices me." He breathed very lightly against Harry's neck, causing the teen to shiver and his eyes to roll into the back of his head.

"No…." Pleaded Harry, effortlessly. "Please, Dray-"

Draco grinned and began to press kisses along Harry's sweaty neck, his tongue sliding sensually across, making Harry sigh and his body react, "You can say no all you want and I'll abide by your wishes, but I truly don't believe it's what you want."

"I- I'm not some play toy." said a trembling Harry. His emotions were a mix and it was driving him insane; one part of him wanted to be touched by Draco, but the other part says no, its all a game to him, not to mention he's hurting someone by going this route - cheating.

"No, you're far too special for that, my Harry. You're mine - my secret and I don't care who has you in the day - for every time I look at you - I see that hunger." Draco purred, as he began running his fingers through Harry's long hair.

It was true, Harry longed for Draco - but this couldn't be happening. "No- Draco-"

"Come on, Harry, let's shower. Let me wash you - get that sweat off your body..." He requested.

"Draco - please - its killing me." confessed Harry, leaning up and putting his face in his hands.

"What's killing you? The fact that I want you?"

"You don't want me." said Harry, suddenly. He looked up and his eyes were blazing with tears. "You don't want me for life. You don't want me permanently. You only want me - because of the chase. You think its fun - while I think its heart wrenching!" He was up and moved well away from Draco and raised his hands above his head and pressed them against the wall near the mantle of the fireplace. "We are worlds apart - you hate me - I hate you. You only want sex-" Draco remained calm and quiet, the entire time. "You only like the fun of it - you don't care who gets hurt, but I do." He swallowed the nasty taste in his mouth. "I'm tormented, Draco. Do you even care?" He looked over and took the blank expression from Draco as a no. "No, you don't. I can't help it, Draco, if I feel-"

"You love me." said Draco firmly.

Harry growled, "But, I hate you!"

"No, you don't." said Draco, casually taking Harry's seat. "Come here." He commanded, holding out his hand.

"No, I can't."

"Come here." repeated Draco, softly.

"Uh uh!" He turned away and bowed his head.

"Your lover doesn't deserve you." said Draco, out of nowhere.

Harry looked over sharply, "Don't say that!"

"They don't. They don't deserve you. I see how it drastically changes you. How different you become - so monotonous - so not Harry. Not the fun loving Harry who smiles. The Harry I saw..."

"That Harry died last year!" yelled Harry. "All I have left is in that room! Even if I did love you - it's not possible you won't-"

Draco stood up abruptly, nearly knocking the chair to the ground and he swaggered over, "You should know what I want Harry!" He hissed, his nostrils flaring. "You're right, I don't give a fuck about anyone - I could careless about anyone's feelings!" As he got closer, Harry turned fully and backed up against the wall. "I could careless who lived or died - who suffered pain or not." He got so close to Harry, that they were barely a moment apart. Their bodies touched, and Draco pointed at him, "Except for you, Harry. I care about your feelings - I have to care. Yes, it was about fun and games two weeks ago, fucking you was a whole lot of fucking fun - but after the second week it became more... more of something that I have to have." He dropped his hands and began to touch Harry, beginning at his hands, gliding his fingertips up and circling around his wrists and moved up his arms to his bare shoulders. "But, since you're in so much pain, over hurting your lover - I must feel for them as well. They don't deserve the pain you feel - no one does. You feel far too much and that's why I swam into you - that's why I fell in fucking love with you and now -I can't quit and I won't quit."

Harry's heart was twisted all in a knot, he felt as though his breathing had been cut off, and the pain mixed with undying feelings exploded within him. He started to cry, his tears running out of his yes and down his cheeks. Draco, tilted his head, and brushed the tears away. "Don't do that." He said, sternly. "That's a weakness of mine - and you're trekking upon it."

Harry couldn't help it, his lip trembled, and his cheeks became even more rosy. He closed his eyes and the tears fell, he lowered his head, only for it to be pushed up once more by those amazing fingers that loved to give him goose bumps. He felt and smelled Draco moving in on him, closer and closer until he could only open his mouth as the tantalizing brush of his soft lips sank obsessively within him. Harry became as weak as he always did whenever Draco touched him. He brought his own hands up and touched what his body and heart yearned. His fingers swimming inside of his nightclothes searching for flesh and just as he found it a soft voice spoke from the doorway.

"Harry? What's going on?"

Draco jerked back, surprise writing on his face, while Harry stared like a zombie straight ahead at his lover, those brown eyes got large and round, "Wha-?"

"I'm so sorry, Hermione." whispered Harry, remorsefully.

She said nothing, she simply stared back at him, disbelief written on her face.