disclaimer: jkr owns the souls of harry & draco.
warning: if slash scares you, phone home now
a/n: um. this may not make sense, and if so, tell me, i was too lazy to write a plot anyway ^.^



~~ in place.


You think you're drowning, but you don't know the half of it. You think you can touch me but you have barely scratched the surface layer of skin. You think you're right, but you're just mumbling in your sleep.


Your mouth seeks out mine when you sleep, your hair falling into your eyes, your expression so innocent and trusting and stupid. I pause, just to stare at you, to marvel at your weakness. The way you belong to me. I can't stand it. I could push you away, I know it, but then you would go. You've got pride. Spirit. Courage, they say. You will do what you have to, but then, so will I.


I brush back your hair from your face, and imagine a moment when that would make me smile. You'd washed up, near enough to death that even I barely recognized you. You still don't remember, not all of it. I contemplate telling you, but that would end the game, wouldn't it. I know you've forgotten a lot, but you've got your principles, still, of that I'm certain. I can see you trying to wake up, to break free, like you know you're someone else, are meant to be doing something else, and it's just a matter of time before you know who that person is, and what he's supposed to be doing. More and more, you'd forgotten I existed, in your newfound dedication to the Cause. It only took one ounce of admiration seeping in to make me remember why I hated you, but then, I was never masochistic.


You wrap your arm around my chest and smile contentedly in your sleep. You don't look a thing like yourself anymore, and sometimes I wonder if this is all a mistake, and you're not really Harry Potter at all, and there's someone who looks just like you, except he'd kick me right now and scream bloody murder, someone who's laying like this, smiling like this, next to that red-headed girl with the shy smile and the iron will. I nearly convince myself and then you crack one eye open, still not really awake and mutter something that sounds like, "Malfoy, gotosleepalready, you dolt."


Doubting you takes energy I'm starting to have less and less of. I realize that this drowning thing is really a grand old irony, you see. It's not like I'd saved you. We'd just switched places.


~2~