Warnings; Harry/Draco, slightly depressing.

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-XxX-

I didn't see it coming, the heartbreak that was about to hit me. I couldn't prepare.

It hit me good and proper, no kind of warning.

Just one swift blow.

There was nothing; no argument, no battle; no other lovers, no lies.

Nothing.

I can't work out what I've done wrong. I stayed faithful, loving. Only for him. We lived together. Made love. Enjoyed each others company. He loved me back. Even though his Father was always pressuring him into marriage. We made it through the war. We, us, me...

He proposed. A while back, even in knowing that our relationship was taboo, he loved me enough to want to stay with me forever. We would never be able to get married, or become civil partners, not in the eyes of the Wizarding world. We would be forever condemned.

We'd seen it before, a wizard came out as being gay last year, within a week he was living off of the street, starving. He died after a month. Wizards casted spells and jinxed him, witches spat out foul words. No one helped, too afraid of the abuse being showered upon themselves for assisting the accused man.

My Draco.

His clothes are missing but his keys are still here, sat innocently in the small pot on the kitchen counter. A glint from the table shows his engagement ring, it had been placed obviously so I couldn't miss it. The diamond ring contrasting with the oak tabletop. Is he trying to make this even more painful for me? Make me regret our relationship? Blame myself?

Please, tell me what's going on, what have I done? What have I done?

I came in the door to see him, waiting. I think that he was going to leave without saying goodbye. Disappear without a trace. Without me.

I had gotten off work early, a surprise, I had been to the expensive Muggle store down the road – Waitrose- and had bought an expensive bottle of wine and a meal. For two.

I had got his favorite, lamb shanks with redcurrant & rosemary along with some ready prepared vegetables. Just for him, I hate lamb, but it was his treat.

Dinner for one…

My baby has a suitcase, he's at the door, about to leave. Baby – my Draco, I had always called him that, He loved it. It was the only pet name he would allow, no Dray or Dragon. Baby.

My Draco.

He's telling me it's too late to get back together. He made his decision. Alone. My head was ringing in shock, my hands - in fists. My face was pale and I felt dizzy. He steps out, leaving the door open behind him. I watch him, searching for any signs of regret. None.

All I did was love him. My first love. My only love.

But I can't stop him walking out the door and onto the street, his suitcase- a trunk disguised as a very expensive designer luggage brand trailing behind him. Each time the wheel hits the join in the paving slabs, another nail was punched into my chest.

What changed so quickly? What did I do? Did I not tell him how much I love him- did he forget that? My love.

Answer me! Draco, please answer me. What do you want to do to me? Are you trying to kill me? If you are, then it's working.

If you must kill me at least please, tell me why. Give me a reason, an excuse. Anything.

He said "Don't touch me, Get out the way" as he pushed past and out into the night air. The last words he said to me. I just stood there, in shock. The glass wine bottle breaks as the bag drops to the floor, shattering everywhere.

It took me ages to get all the glass out of the carpet, tears running down my face. I was on auto-pilot.

Will someone tell me what's going on tonight. I slide down to the floor, tears sliding down my face. I remove my glasses to wipe the offending liquid away and stand with wobbly legs. Shutting the door softly.

I didn't lock the door that night. In case he came back. Maybe, just maybe he didn't mean it.

I can't stop my heart leaving through the door with my blond lover. Heartbroken. Funny word, literal in my case, my heart was ripping itself from my chest, following him. Forever.

I can't unpack my heart; it travels with him wherever he goes. It must have gone a thousand miles and back. Following. Waiting.

He won't look at me anymore. Even in passing in Diagon Alley, he looks the other way. Anywhere but me. Sometimes I want to yell at him; "Look, here! It's me, Harry! I love you! Why did you leave me? I love you!" Others, I want to punch him in the face.

He has a son now, a little perfect blonde boy. His gleaming pale blue eyes and pale white face mock me. An almost perfect copy of his father, but alike to me, his eyes were from his mother.

And a wife. A perfect woman. How could I compare?

A curvy, well endowed female. Two platinum rings around her delicate spindly fingers. A beautiful handmade gown, golden hair curled precisely. Her skin glowing with pregnancy as she prepared to birth another perfect Malfoy child. The children I could never give him.

Me, male, black unruly hair and no sense of fashion.

Was it me who drove him away? My love for him? Or did he finally give in to his Fathers wishes?

Became perfect.

My Draco.

-XxX-

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