Broken Aftermath.

Summary: Everyone suffered after the war. Some more than others. But when a broken Draco Malfoy shows up at Harry's doorstep one night after the War, Harry's in for an emotional night. Post-DH. Drarry.

Author's note: Wrote this in an urge to break past my writers block.

Warnings: Boy/Boy relationship, Mentions of abuse….

Disclaimer: Sadly, I'm not JK Rowling. Wish I was, though.

The aftermath of the war was difficult. There was happiness because the Dark Lord had been defeated for good; but said happiness was always short lived.

The grounds of Hogwarts were an awful sight. Dead bodies littered the ground; Death Eaters and Hogwarts students alike. Everyone lost someone in the fight. So instead of celebrating the death of Voldemort, they all mourned the death of friends and loved ones whose lives were lost in the battle of Hogwarts. Many tears were shed. Many, many tears.

One boy stood amongst the piles of bodies and rubble of the once-standing wizarding school. That boy was Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived. The Boy Who Killed Voldemort. He surveyed the damage from the war. As he picked his way through charred bits of wood, broken rock and dead bodies, his heart broke a little more as he kept recognizing his fellow classmates as some of those dead bodies.

Harry sighed and closed his eyes. He never meant for any of this to happen. He never meant for so many people to die. Walking into the Great Hall, it took all he had not to start crying. All the dead bodies were being placed here. He noticed the Weasley family hovering over the body of Fred Weasley, George's twin brother.

Harry looked away. He couldn't stand to see that.

He scanned the tables, once again hoping to not see anyone else he cared about sprawled upon one of the long tables. He spotted Remus and Tonks Lupin laying next to each other, about a foot down from Fred's body.

Harry bit his lip to keep from crying. They had just had a baby boy.

-0-

A couple months later, and Harry now resided in Number 12, Grimmauld Place; the once-meeting place of the Order, and the Black's old house. Sirius left it to Harry before he died.

Harry rarely slept. His dreams were always filled with the faces of his deceased friends and the pleas of those about to be killed, and the shrill screams of those being killed.

He hadn't talked much to Ron or Hermione since that night. They didn't how he was doing, and Harry thought that they didn't much care. He couldn't blame them. Even Harry wouldn't want to be around himself, not after he caused so much pain.

So why he got a random visitor one night, at midnight was completely beyond him.

Harry had been sitting in the library, skimming through a book, when there was a knock at the door.

Confused, Harry rose from his seat, and dropped the book on the floor. Leaving the book on the ground, Harry slowly made his way to the front door, hesitant to open it. Whoever was at the door knocked again, Harry sighed and unlocked the door.

And there, standing on his doorstep, was the one and only Draco Malfoy.

Harry did a double take. The blond-haired boy was covered in blood, whose it was, Harry didn't want to guess, bruises and cuts, and he was limping.

"Draco…?" Harry whispered.

Draco looked up at Harry, and there wasn't the usual hint of malice or mockery in his eyes anymore. Only pain. A lot of pain.

"Can I come in?" Draco asked quietly.

Harry nodded and stepped aside, letting Draco in.

Limping, Draco slowly made it past the threshold and down the hallway into the kitchen. Puzzled, Harry shut the door and followed Draco. Once in the kitchen, he saw Draco had already sat himself in one of the kitchen chairs.

"Do you want any food?" Harry asked slowly.

"Yes please." Draco said, before he flew into a coughing fit.

"Gods, Draco. What happened to you?" Harry asked him, setting down a bowl of soup in front of Draco.

"They beat me up, and then left me in the street to die." Draco's broken voice reached Harry's ears.

Harry stared at Draco. "Who beat you up, Draco?"

Draco merely shrugged, and began digging into his soup.

Harry watched Draco. The boy ate like he hadn't been fed in days. And by the state of his appearance, Harry guessed he wasn't far from the truth.

"Where have you been staying, Draco?" Harry knew that the Ministry had taken control of all Malfoy assets since Lucius had been put in Azkaban.

"Anywhere and everywhere." Draco said, finishing his soup. He got up to put the bowl into the sink, but winced.

"Draco, sit." Harry scolded him. He grabbed the bowl, and went upstairs to get some medication for the cuts and bruises.

Coming back down, he noticed Draco had wandered into the living room and was staring at the television.

Draco noticed Harry when he walked into the room. "What's that?" He asked, pointing to the TV.

"It's a television." Harry told him, sitting down.

"A..telly…what?" Draco said, confused.

Harry laughed and shook his head. "Not important right now. Now come here so I can fix you up."

Draco scooted over closer to Harry. When Harry went to apply Neosporin to one of Draco's cuts, Draco whimpered and pulled away out of Harry's reach.

Harry sighed. He realized Draco had been through more in these past few months than he guessed. "Draco, im not going to hurt you, I just need to put Neosporin on your cuts."

"Fine." Draco whispered, moving closer to Harry.

"How'd you get these cuts?" Harry inquired.

"They beat me up." Draco told him.

"No, I know that. Why'd they beat you up? Who beat you up?"

Draco pulled away from Harry. He pulled his legs up to his chest and wrapped his arms around his shins. "They beat me up because of my mark. Because of my father. Because they thought I deserved to be in Azkaban. I don't know who they were."

At the end, tears were streaming down Draco's face.

Harry stared, and then he pulled Draco into a hug. Draco tensed, but didn't pull away. Harry started rubbing soothing circles around Draco's back, and he relaxed as more tears found their way down his face. Draco cried for himself; his mom; and even his dad. He cried from the loneliness he always felt.

Harry did all he could to comfort Draco. He found it weird, that his childhood enemy was now sitting on his couch, in his arms, in the most broken form he'd ever seen Draco in.

"Im so alone." Draco said, pulling away from Harry. "Everyone hates me. And everyone who used to care about me is dead."

"I don't hate you, Draco. In fact, I actually kinda fancy you." Harry mumbled.

Draco looked at him. "Really?"

Harry nodded as a blush crept up onto his face.

"I like you too." Draco whispered, crawling up onto Harry's lap.

Harry looked into Draco's silver eyes, and then he leaned down and pressed a light kiss to the other boys lips.

"Do you want to stay here with me?" Harry asked, smiling down at Draco.

Draco nodded, and kissed Harry again.

The end.

Not exactly how I thought It'd turn out, but not bad in my opinion.

Reviews are nice.:)

~katie.