Disclaimer:
Anything belonging to the HP universe belongs to J.K. Rowling and others who have bought the rights to meddle with her toys. Anything that's not is mine, unless stated otherwise. I'm just playing around here, not making money, so please don't sue.

Author's note's:
This is the fic I wrote for Christmas 2006. Very, very sappy, but digestable if you're looking to wallow in somebody else's misery for a while. Please leave a review, whether you liked it or not.

Summary:
It's nearly Christmas, but Harry isn't into the Holiday Cheer. Draco has left him and Harry doesn't understand why.


You left me

Harry Potter watched the folds in his blue and grey striped socks appear and disappear as he bend and flexed his toes. He noticed there was a stain on the black rug, near the large toe of his right foot. He stared at it for a while, then shrugged and resumed bending and flexing his toes, staring at his socks.

He didn't move at first, when the kettle whistled, just stared at the black television screen in front of him as if it somehow had something to do with it, but when the kettle just kept on whistling, he slowly got to his feet and dragged himself to the kitchen.

Harry turned off the heat under the kettle and got a mug out of the left cupboard. He placed the mug on one of the counters that formed the bar and turned around to get the tea. His hand froze halfway into the cupboard. The tea was sitting right next to the cocoa, Draco's favourite drink.

Harry couldn't even begin to count how many times he'd made Draco hot chocolate. Every day when Draco would get back from work later than Harry and the weather was cold or rainy, Harry made sure to have a steaming cup ready. And once Draco had gotten home and had changed into some dry clothes or had put away his jacket, Harry would watch him enjoy the chocolate. He would watch the tiny smile appear around Draco's mouth and the subtle dazed look of joy that colored his eyes.

Harry remembered one night that he had made Draco chocolate in particular. It was not long after the end of the second war, not long after he had been released from hospital, when there had been a knock on his door on a dark and stormy night. Harry had been nothing short of shocked to find Draco Malfoy on his doorstep. Light blond hair blown all around his face by the wind, cheeks rosy from the cold, but what had surprised Harry most was the smile that lurked around the corners of Draco's mouth. Not quite understanding why he was doing so, Harry had asked him in. When he had asked Draco if he wanted something to drink, Draco had asked for hot chocolate and Harry had made him some.

Harry sighed and got the tea out of the cupboard. That was then, this was now. He took his tea back to the living room, but stopped beside the floor to ceiling window at the end of the bar. Harry leaned his hip against the back of the couch and looked out of the window. He watched the people on the streets hurrying to and fro, eager to get out of the pouring rain. He couldn't make out their faces, since he was on the second floor, but he was sure they weren't smiling, even though the holiday season acquired them to. It had been dreary and grey for two weeks and most people had a hard time keeping up the holiday cheer. Which was just as well as far as Harry was concerned.

He folded his left arm around is waist and used it to support his right elbow as he took a sip of tea. He was momentarily confused that the hot drink didn't steam up his glasses, but then he remembered his contacts. He had gotten them three weeks ago. Especially for Draco. Not that Draco had minded the glasses, not at all. It was just that they got in the way.

Harry thought back to all the times he had removed them to rub his eyes or pinch his nose, when he and Draco had had particularly difficult conversations. And they'd had many of them. It all started with that cup of hot chocolate, but back then there had been so many things hanging between them. And with time, their conversations moved from 'Were have you been this past year?' and 'What have you done since the end of the war?' to 'What side were you truly on?' and 'Why did you act the way you did?'.

Questions had been answered, apologies made over and over. Things had been settled between them. Common ground found and accepted. And when Lucius was finally found and convicted, Draco had come to Harry to talk about how confused he was feeling about all of it. And Harry had wanted to comfort him, had wanted to hug him and had bumped the side of his glasses into Draco's cheek.

Harry's eyes slid back into focus as he frowned at the rain that was making tiny rivers on the window. Draco hadn't minded the glasses, but he'd been absolutely delighted that Harry had gotten contacts especially for him. His eyes had been shiny and there had been that rosy glow on his cheeks, as if he had been outside in the cold. Harry smiled sadly at the memory and took another sip of his tea.

He was kept from finishing his tea by his cellphone ringing. He had replaced his normal ringtone by a Christmas song, like he did every year, but it made him scowl now. He and Draco had shared their first kiss on Christmas eve, under the Mistletoe. He had stood there, at Hermoine's Christmas party, looking at the crowd, when Draco came to stand next to him, a mischievous smile playing around his lips. Draco had simply pointed above them and had kissed Harry square on the mouth. Nobody had seen it and Harry had had a hard time figuring out what it all meant exactly.

"Harry speaking," Harry said into thin air, since the phone was way to small to reach his mouth.

"Harry, it's Hermione. Merry Christmas, Harry. Oh, and from Ron too of course," Hermione chirped on the other end. Harry cringed at the cheeriness of her voice.

"Of course. You too, 'Mione," he answered non too enthusiastically, while putting his tea on the coffee table. On the other end of the line, Hermoine sighed.

"Oh Harry, are you still sad about him?" she asked. The question held no criticism; it spoke of pure pity. Draco had not just befriended Harry. Hermione and, after a long time, even Ron had come to like their former school rival. They'd hung out together, had had dinner together, had done all sorts of things together. And when things between Harry and Draco started to become serious, Hermione and Ron had been supportive and happy for the both of them.

"Sad would be the understatement of the year. More like broken," Harry told his best friend. When she stayed silent, he continued in a hurt voice. "I just don't understand why he left like that".

Yes, Draco had left him. Two weeks and three days ago to be exact. Draco Malfoy had left their apartment to go to work and had never come back. At first Harry had been worried sick, but once he'd found Draco's part of the closet empty and the note on their bed, he had been heartbroken. The note had said only one word: "Goodbye".

"I don't understand either, Harry. I really don't. Are you sure everything was all right? He didn't seem different?" Hermione wanted to know. Harry sighed, they'd been over this four times already. He thought about it again though, just to make sure he hadn't missed anything. But there really was nothing. Draco had gotten out of bed first and made them breakfast, like always. Then he'd prodded Harry to finally get out of bed or he'd be late for work, like always. And once they'd eaten – Draco fully dressed and Harry in his pyjama's – Draco had brushed his teeth, pecked Harry on the cheek and had left for work, like always.

"No," Harry told Hermione "Everything was … like it always was". Harry shook his head, but Hermione couldn't see that of course. "I just don't understand," he repeated.

"Harry, don't take this the wrong way, but… maybe you'll never understand," Hermione told him cautiously. Harry frowned and walked from the coffee table to the bar.

"What do you mean," he asked, sounding a little agitated. He heard Hermione sigh and knew she was chewing her bottom lip.

"Maybe you should just give up and try to move on," she suggested. Harry sucked in a breath at that and used his free hand to grab the counter in support. This was not fair and too soon. He wasn't ready to think about that, wasn't ready to give Draco up just like that.

"But Hermione, how can I move on when I don't understand why he left me in the first place," he asked, a slight edge of panic creeping into his voice.

"I don't know, Harry. And I'm not saying you should do so right now, but I think you should at least consider the possibility that you'll never find out. And you can't keep moping about him the rest of your life, sweetheart," Hermione told him. Harry walked back towards the couch. Moping seemed like a perfectly good way to spend the rest of his life right now.

"I don't know if I can move on, Hermione. I don't know if I want to," he confessed to his friend as he pulled a hand trough his hair and moved to the counter again.

"You might have to, Harry," she told him kindly and Harry could hear the soft smile in her voice. He sighed and leaned back against the counter.

"But I love him, 'Mione. I can't just turn that off," Harry said.

"I know Harry, I know," came the soft reply. Harry sighed again and pushed himself off of the counter.

"Look, never mind all that. I'll be okay. You and Ron have a wonderful Christmas, all right?" he told his friend.

"Okay, you too, Harry. Bye," she answered, just before Harry pushed the red button on his cell. He threw the phone onto the couch, picked up his tea and sighed again. Yes, Draco had left him and he really didn't understand why. Everything had seemed perfect.

After that Mistletoe kiss, things had moved fast between them. Harry had rung Draco's doorbell two weeks after Hermiones Christmas party, tired of wondering what that kiss meant, and had just asked Draco flat out. Draco hadn't answered, asking Harry whether he had liked it or not instead. And when Harry had confessed he did, Draco had kissed him again.

Harry barely got home that night and it was only three weeks later that he really didn't get home. Not until late afternoon the next day anyway. Their relationship had grown stronger over time, their differences smaller. Harry taught Draco everything about the Muggle world and Draco taught him everything about the magical one. And even though it caused some problems with others, inside of their rooms, those worlds seemed to mix perfectly. Draco had gotten into television and had even bought himself a cellphone. And Harry had learned everything about Wizarding apparatus and etiquette with Pureblood families.

Moving in together had been a logical step and neither of them had given it much thought. There had only been the question of who moved in with whom. In the end they decided on Harry's apartment because it was bigger. Draco had demanded to do the decorating and Harry hadn't minded at all. It took them some time and some fights about the bathroom to establish a morning routine, but apart from those small hiccups, their lives had fitted together like yin and yang.

And then, less than three weeks before they would celebrate their two year anniversary – two weeks and three days before Christmas - Draco had simply vanished. He wouldn't answer his cellphone and Harry had found no trace of him. None of their friends knew were he was. He had taken several days off from work and none of his colleagues had seen him since the day he disappeared.

Harry drank some more tea, but swallowed with a sour face. His tea had gone cold. He walked back into the kitchen and emptied his cup into the sink. He put the empty cup into the dishwasher, having never gotten used to scourging spells, and walked around the bar and back into the living room. He looked at the two dark grey couches, the kubistic coffee table and the television set across from the largest couch. All placed on the black, hairy rug Draco had fallen in love with on sight. The wall behind the television set was painted bright red, a strong contrast with the white of the other three walls and the white marble floor. The entire room breathed Draco's taste and it hurt.

Harry walked over to the fireplace that was situated on the long wall and across from the smallest of the two couches. It wasn't really cold in the room, but Harry lit a fire anyway. Maybe it would warm his inner chill.

Harry sat down in front of the fire and stared into the flames. They were small and not very warm, just like the fire between him and Draco had been in the beginning, but they grew slowly and burned hotter in time, like the flames between him and Draco had done. Or so Harry had thought. But maybe he had thought wrong.

The sun began to set, so Harry made some light. He only charmed on one or two wall lights though, because the fire had really started and Harry didn't want to ruin the spectacle of light and shadow that the flames now made on the walls. He got lost in thought looking at it and startled when the doorbell rang.

With a sigh Harry got up and walked into the hallway to open the door. He wondered who on earth would come to visit him and hoped it wouldn't be Remus or Tonks, trying to cheer him up. He really didn't think he could handle being cheered up right now.

He gasped in surprise when he saw who it was. But after staring for seconds he turned away from the door and pushed it closed with one hand, only to feel a slight resistance instead of the click signalling the door had fallen back into the lock. He turned around again and watched with a mixture of hope, pain and anger as pale slender fingers curled themselves around the edge of the door and slowely pushed it open again.

On the other side of the threshold stood Draco Malfoy. Harry had imagined his return so many times, had dreamed about it. And in every one of those dreams and fantasies he would run into Draco's arms and Draco would say he was sorry and they would make up, but now that he found his boyfriend – or was it ex-boyfriend? – across from him, all the pain of his sudden departure welled up, converting into anger somewere between his heart and his head and Harry just wanted him to go away again.

"Harry?" Draco's voice was barely audible above the racket the rain was making on the walkway windows, which was clearly audible now that the door was open. "Can I please come in?"

Harry's first impulse was to say no, to let Draco feel exactly what he had been through these last weeks. But the vision of the man before him made him hesitate. Draco's clothes were litteraly dripping with rain, his hair hung around his face in wet strands, sticking to his cheeks. But what struck Harry most was his posture. The Draco Malfoy he knew always walked up straight, even when humiliated he would stand proud, like he owned the world, his chin in the air, his expression defiant and arrogant. But the Draco Malfoy standing across from him was nothing like that. His shoulders were slumped and his head hung. He wouldn't even look Harry in the eye. On top of that he was shivering. So after a long moment of silence, Harry finally stepped aside to let Draco in.

Draco shuffled into the hallway and closed the door behind him. And still without looking at Harry, he reached into the pocket of his long beige jacket and put something on the sidetable that stood in the hallway. Harry felt a sharp pain in his gut when he saw it was a key; Draco's key to their appartment. He forced himself to look at Draco, not ready to let him in any further.

Slowly Draco lifted his head to look at Harry and Harry could actually feel his features shift and drop back into place as a concerned look flashed over his own face. Draco looked horrible. He was pale, there were blue circles under his eyes and Harry noticed he hadn't shaved for at least a couple of days.

"I really messed up, didn't I?" Draco asked him, looking down again. Harry frowned.

"Yes, you did," he answered simply. Draco looked at him again and this time when he spoke, he didn't look back down. He looked Harry straight in the eye.

"I'm sorry," he said and opened his mouth to say something else, but closed it and shook his head a little. Harry felt some of the anger that had welled up at Draco's appearance eb away. Draco hardly ever apologized and he certainly didn't do it this clearly. But Harry was not satisfied. As much as he wanted Draco back, he needed to know why his boyfriend had left him in the first place.

"Take off your coat and come on inside," he told Draco, then headed into the living room himself. He sat down on the large couch, facing the black television screen again and stared at it, trying to sort out his feelings. He was glad Draco was back, but he was also royally pissed at him for leaving in the first place. He was hurt and lonely and confused. He looked up when Draco sat down on the couch opposite the fire.

Harry noticed that Draco's aubergine sweater was soaked, as were his jeans, but he didn't say anything about it, he just looked at Draco, who sat, staring into the fire. Harry rememberd long nights in front of that fire. There had been heated ones, but also nights when he and Draco would just lie in front of the fire, curled up into eachothers arms, talking for hours and hours on end. Harry wanted those nights to come back.

"Why did you leave me?" he finally asked Draco, trying unsuccesfully to keep the hurt out of his voice. Draco's already hunched frame momentarily shrunk in on itself even further, then he turned to look at Harry. His expression was one of pain.

"I'm sorry Harry. I really am," he said. Harry shook his head. Not good enough.

"Why did you leave me?" he repeated. Draco looked down at his hands, which were folded together in his lap. His nuckles were white, but whether it was from trying not to shiver or because of something else, Harry didn't know. He returned his gaze to Draco's face.

"Because I got scared," Draco whispered. When he looked back up, Harry actually felt a stab of pity for Draco. He looked terribly hurt and miserable. Harry didn't understand, but felt like it wasn't fair to leave Draco sitting like this, all wet and cold. Also, he didn't want to. It did nothing to numb his own pain, in fact, it made it worse. He got up and pulled the white, furry blanket out from under the couch.

"Here," was all he said when he handed it to Draco. When Draco looked up at him, a tiny flicker of hope crossed his blue grey eyes. Harry had seen that flicker of hope before. It had been there in Draco's eyes when he asked Harry whether he had liked the kiss under the Mistletoe. It had also appeared when Harry went home with him that night they had sex for the first time.

"Thank you," Draco told Harry gratefully as he wrapped the blanket around himself. Harry nodded and went of to the kitchen. As he fixed some hot chocolate for Draco he smiled a little to himself. It seemed Draco wasn't here to properly break up with him after all. That was a good thing. But he needed to hear why Draco had left, he needed some guarantee that it wouldn't happen again.

Draco's hands were shaking when he accepted the wordlessly offered cocoa.

"I missed this so much," he said in a slightly uneven voice. Harry didn't answer, just sat down on his couch again and watched that familiar spectacle of Draco drinking hot cocoa and waited. After a couple of sips of the steaming drink, Draco seemed ready to talk. He put down the mug on the coffee table and turned to Harry.

"I'm not really used to loving someone. I'm used to being adored and looked up to, I'm used to receiving, not giving, you know that," Draco started. Harry nodded his confirmation.

"I've been in love before, or so I thought. But it was never like it is with you. What we have is so intense - "

"Had," Harry interrupted. Draco blinked.

"What?" he asked.

"What we had," Harry repeated, a little surprised by the coldness of his own voice.

"But, Harry..." Draco stammered, then fell silent and just stared at Harry. Harry stared back, trying to decide whether he wanted to take that back or not. He decided he didn't. Draco shook his head. "No," he said: "No, you don't mean that. You don't want to throw this all away. You can't!"

"Hey!" Harry interrupted Draco's panicked rant: "You left me, remember?"

"But I didn't mean to!" Draco said, flinging out his arms in a gesture of helplesness. The blanket dropped off his shoulders, but he paid it no heed.

"Oh, that makes it all allright then, that you didn't mean to leave me" Harry yelled sarcastically: "So you just accidentilly did not come home after work, for three weeks?"

"Of course not!" Draco blustered.

"Then how the hell didn't you mean to leave me?" Harry asked, throwing his hands up in the air.

"I told you, I got scared!" Draco answered hotly.

"Of whát?" Harry shot back, leaning forward between outstreched hands as if he could pull the answer out of Draco.

"Of us!" Draco yelled. Astounded, Harry dropped back against the support of the couch.

"What?" he asked, frowning and silenced by surprise. Draco sighed and pulled a hand through his wet hair, making a face as it came out all wet and sticky with hairgell.

"I'm not used to giving, Harry. I never did it much before, but with you it was different. I gave everything to you. And the night before I ... before I left, when you fell asleep with your head on my chest, I realized what that meant. I gave everything to you, Harry. Without you, I don't excist. I was taught never to be dependent, never to trust, never to show myself, but I came to be completely depentent on you, I trust you with my live and I did not only show myself to you, I gave myself to you. I had made myself terribly vulnerable and I hadn't even realized it. But when I did, I got scared. I looked at you and realized you were my entire world and that scared me beyond belief. I ran", Draco explained. And Harry could do nothing but just sit and stare, while tears slowely trickled down his cheeks. But when Draco moved forward to brush at them he moved away and angrily rubbed his sleeve over his cheeks.

"And you never thought about me? How that would be for me? I gave you everything Draco and you took it and left", Harry told him. Draco hung his head and put his hands on the back of his neck.

"I know, and I'm so, so sorry, Harry, but I can't do anything to take that back. I would, if I could, but I can't," he said, and this time, his voice truly cracked. "I've tried for days to come up with a way to make what I did right, but I couldn't think of anything. I couldn't think of a single thing. I finally couldn't take being away from you any longer, so I had no choice but to return emptyhanded and ask for your forgiveness."

"Of course you couldn't think of anything, nothing will make what you did right," Harry said angrily.

"I know, but I don't want to lose you Harry, so I had to try anyway. I'll do anything, anything. I really don't want to lose you Harry, I can't," Draco told him in a constricted voice. Harry sighed and pulled a hand through his hair, evoking a melancholy smile from Draco. Draco's smile faltered when Harry started to talk.

"And I don't want to lose you. Hell, I've been waiting for you to come back ever since you left, I've dreamed about it almost every night, waking up in tears every morning because it all turned out to be a dream, but now that you're here it's just... You promised not to hurt me, Draco."

"I know. I'm sorry," Draco pushed his answer through a closed up throat and locked jaw. And it hurt Harry to see him on the verge of tears like that. Draco never cried, not even when his father had been given the Dementors kiss, not when his mother died. The only time Draco had come this close to tears was when he told Harry about the pressure his father put on him, about the coldness of his home, how he too had been robbed of a childhood and how he had become the cruel child he had been. Harry wanted to help him then and he wanted to comfort him now, but there was too much pain of his own standing in the way.

"You're sorry. And now what? I'm supposed to accept your apology, take you back and act like nothing has happend?" he asked Draco. Draco shook his head.

"No," he whispered: "I understand you can't do that. That's why I gave you back your key. I'll understand if you never want to see me again." And this time, Draco couldn't keep the tears from falling. They ran down his face and joined the water already in the strands of light blond hair that were sticking to his cheeks.

Harry was shocked. Draco's words reached right into his heart and there, they cut deep. Of course Harry wanted to see Draco again! He loved him. He shook his head.

"No," he said and saw the despair swirl through Draco's eyes just before he closed them and dropped his head in his hands. "I don't want your key and I don't want you to leave. I love you Draco, but I can't just step over this, you have to understand," he continued quickly. Draco's head shot back up.

"I love you too, Harry, I love you so much and I understand. Can you ever forgive me?" he asked, getting up from the couch and kneeling in front of Harry. Harry reached down and pulled his boyfriend into a tight embrace.

"It'll take a while, but I think I can. Just don't ever leave like that again," he said softly into Draco's ear. Draco clung to him, his face burried in Harry's neck and Harry noticed he was now truly crying. But Draco forced words out anyway.

"I could never go through this again, I promise," he said into Harry's neck. Then he moved back slightly to stare at Harry, who smiled a little and moved forward to kiss his boyfriend gently on the lips.

"Come on, you're soaked and frozen, you need a hot bath," he told Draco and pulled the other boy with him into the spacious bathroom. Draco pulled back and as Harry bumped against Draco's chest, he felt cold arms encircling him.

"Will you join me?" Draco asked, his face a weird combination of coy and uncertain, that was beautiful to Harry nonetheless. Harry smiled and pushed a strand of wet hair out of Draco's face.

"Yeah," he said and proceeded to fill the tub with hot water and soap, while Draco got out of his wet clothes. Harry was pulling his sweater off when his phone rang again. He turned and gave Draco a long lingering kiss before hurrying into the living room to fish his phone off the couch.

"Harry here," he said, trying to hide that he was a little out of breath.

"Harry, it's Hermione. I just called to make sure you're allright, you sounded so down this afternoon," Hermione sounded worried. Harry smiled.

"I'm fine Hermione, really," he started to explain hastily but was interrupted by Draco calling from the bathroom.

"Harry, is that...?" Hermione started, but fell silent in fear of asking the question.

"Yeah, it's him. He came back," Harry said happily: "He suddenly showed up about an hour ago."

"And are you two alright? I mean ...," Hermione fell silent again, surprised and clearly surpressing her joy at Draco's return. Harry laughed out loud this time.

"Yeah, we're fine, or ... we will be," Harry answered then smiled as Draco called him again, sounding slightly impatient.

"That's good to hear, Harry. I'll let you two ... erm ... work it out," Hermione told him, sounding full blown happy now: "Oh, and Harry?"

"Yeah?" Harry wanted to know.

"Merry Christmas, Harry," Hermione wished, her voice full of warmth and friendship. Harry felt his insides glow at the sincereness of her words.

"You too 'Mione, you too," he told her. He put the phone down on the coffee table and smiled. This would be the best Christmas ever. Quickly, he made his way back to the bathroom, were Draco and a steamy hot bath were waiting for him.