Disclaimer:Harry Potter does not belong to me. All rights belong to their proper owners such as the magnificent JK Rowling and Warner Bros for their fantastic films. Furthermore, 21 and the songs and lyrics found on this album do not belong to me either. They belong to Adele and whoever else gets rights to the album, song, and lyrics. I do not make a profit off of this, and refuse to. This is purely for entertainment purposes only.

Notes on the Story: 21 is set after the War. Epilogue compliant. Slash. Drarry. Some het like Harry/Ginny and Draco/Astoria. Currently un-beta'ed. So I need a beta. After the prologue there will be 10 chapters. Some of the info might not exactly fit the books. The story starts when Scorpius is 11 years old right before the train ride to Hogwarts. So school hasn't started yet. Oh, and the prologue gives a back drop so not much happens but trust me, it'll get better and there'll be more raunchy man on man action soon. I plan on finishing this before summer is over and I attempt to gain a life.

Summary:A brief encounter with Harry Potter in Diagon Alley leaves Draco Malfoy feebly trying to heal the wounds inflicted on his broken heart, and drown the memories of a school year when love meant absolutely everything.

Prologue: Rolling In the Deep

"The scars of your love remind me of us
They keep me thinking that we almost had it all
The scars of your love, they leave me breathless
I can't help feeling
...

We could have had it all
Rolling in the deep
You had my heart inside of your hand
But you played it with a beating"

-Adele

Draco Malfoy frowned as he waited for his son in Madame Malkins Robes for All Occasions. His patience was wearing thin, having been slowly worn down as Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy excitedly made his way through Diagon Alley buying scrolls, quills, ink, text books, and other academic necessities for his first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The trip to Ollivanders had been particularly draining, but after a shattered mirror and many scrambled wands later, Draco bought a wand for his beloved son. Made with birch, 11 inches long with a dragon heart string core.

Afterward, the Malfoy men found themselves stopping inside Honeydukes, and a few hours and several chocolate frogs later, father and son made their way to Madame Malkins. Draco watched as Madame Malkins personally measured Scorpius, a quill hovering in the air taking down notes that the proprietor mumbled. Madame Malkins smiled, signalling that she had finished, and Scorpius grumbled as he made his way to his father. Draco arranged for the robes to be sent to the manor the day before Scorpius went off to Hogwarts, paid, and lead his son outside of the shop.

"Father," Scorpius tugged at the end of his father's sleeve, "I'm hungry." Draco gave a terse nod of acknowledgement, and began walking to a less crowded place for apparition. The crowd was ruthless, trying its best to swallow the Malfoy men whole while at the same time trying to separate them. Scorpius kept a firm grip on his father's robe. Draco kept a steady eye on his destination, a little corner not too far away devoid of the hustling and bustling crowd. And that's when he saw him.

A mop of familiar black hair. Dishevelled. Hairs sticking out every which way. And beneath the most brilliant gleam of emerald that Draco had ever seen. Draco stilled, his body tense, as he watched Harry Potter walk away. Harry, who smiled and laughed in the distance. Harry, who had found happiness in the 13 or so odd years since their separation. Draco's heart ached.

"Father," Scorpius once again tugged at the end of his father's sleeve. His father had stopped in the middle of the road, and witches and wizards rudely shoved passed them on their way to their destination. Draco made no response. It took all of his willpower to not chase after the former Griffyndor seeker, and with a grunt he grabbed Scorpius's hand and apparated into Malfoy Manor – intent on getting as far away from those haunting green eyes as possible.

Scorpius did not question his father when they arrived back at the mansion. He simply muttered words of thanks, collected his things, and made his way to his room. He knew better than to ask. He knew that some things were better left unsaid. And other things better left forgotten.

Draco watched his son go. He watched the future of the Malfoy family walk away, and he couldn't help the pride that welled up in his heart as he did so. There had been a time when there had been no chance of a future, when the idea of continuing the Malfoy line was completely impossible. But time moves on, people change, and love... Love goes away. But when Scorpius was born, when Draco Malfoy held his small, fragile, newly born child in his arms, love found its way back. And Draco knew as he watched his 11 year old child disappear that without Scorpius the pain he kept hidden away would've been unbearable. Scorpius was the reason Draco was alive. Scorpius was Draco's love. Scorpius was Draco's happiness. Not an untamed mop of black hair and shining emerald eyes. No. Not anymore.

With meaningful strides, Draco made his way to his study, spelling the door closed behind him.

"Bibby," Draco calls, and with a snap a house elf appears in a white rag tied across its waist.

"Yes, Master Malfoy, sir" Bibby keeps her head bent low.

"I am to be left undisturbed for the rest of the night. Absolutely no exceptions," Draco orders.

"Yes, Master Malfoy, sir," Bibby replies, and with a snap is gone.

Draco sighs, and pours himself a cup of Blishen's Firewhiskey, before sinking into a leather chair. He knows that he needs the firewhiskey tonight. He needs to feel the burn of alcohol in his drunken state. He welcomed the burning sensation in fact, welcomed it more than the pain from scars left by a lost love. And Draco knows that besides the burn, he needed courage. Courage to deal with emotions and memories that he long ago buried. Memories of two boys in school. Of secret meetings, and hushed words. Words like forever, and always. And of emotions like happiness, and love. Tonight, he needs to forget. Forget the school year, so long ago, when love had meant absolutely everything. When a mop of unruly ebony hair, and shimmering emerald eyes had meant the world and so much more. Forget the time, when they almost had it all.

Draco sighs again, finishing off his first glass of firewhiskey and pouring himself another. Tonight, he will finish the bottle. He knows it. Just as he once knew of a boy whose smile would make the rest of the world disappear. Just as he knows that the memories of the very same boy will assault him tonight, and will not stop. And just as surely, Draco knows that Harry Potter will always have his heart. Because Harry Potter was much more than the Boy Who Lived. Harry Potter was the Boy Who Loved Draco, and the Boy Who Left.

Author's Notes: I hope you enjoyed it. I know I'll enjoy writing it.