A/N: My first attempt at angst. So go easy on my. As always thankyouFrenchhornbook for being the worlds best beta.

Disclaimer: I do not own ANYTHING from the Harry Potter world… NOTHING.

I now present you with…

He Saved Me, but Can I Save Him?

Harry has saved me too many times to count. I don't know where I would be without him. Let's start with the fact that he saved my life when he hated me. Well, turns out he never really hated me, but still. He took me out of that fire, and then he continued to save me. He spoke for me during my trial. You could only imagine my surprise when they called the first and only witness to my defense and it was Harry Potter. Harry kept me out of Azkaban that day, and for that, I am eternally grateful. After I left the trail Harry was still outside of the ministry. I wasn't sure what to expect when I saw him standing there but there was some kind of force that was pulling me towards him, and before I knew it, we were face-to-face. For a while we just stood there and said nothing. Until I couldn't take the silence anymore, I remember telling him, "I don't know why you did it, Harry." That was the first time I had ever called him that. "But thank you. I am not sure if you understand what it means to me."

I had locked myself in the manor for weeks after the trial. My father was in Azkaban, and my mother was locked up in her bedroom for the majority of the time since we came home from the trial. She was devastated about my father even though he was an evil bastard and I knew we were better off without him. Mother told me she was never leaving the manor again, that she was never going to show her face again. To be honest, I was never going to the leave the manor again either until one day there was a knock on the door. One of our house elves came to find me in the sitting room and told me that Harry potter was requesting a word. My stomach dropped to my knees. Harry was here to see me? Why? Did he regret standing up for me in the trail was he here to tell me he was going to take back his testimony? Could he even do that? When I got to the door, he was standing in the rain. I remember thinking, Why have I never noticed how beautiful this man is? He had on A T-shirt and fitted jeans, which showed off his figure. I had to shake the thought of how handsome he was. "Er can I help you?" Was all I could think to say to him? He smiled (it was a gorgeous smile) and asked, "Can I come in Malfoy? It's raining." "Um, sure, yeah come in please." That day Harry sat in my dining room and told me that I had to get out of the house. He said that he was able to get me a job at the ministry breaking dark spells. He said he argued that I knew much on the subject, and surprisingly the ministry agreed. This time I had to ask him why. Why was he helping me, saving me continually? He said, "You deserve a break, Malfoy." I remember wishing that he was gay, wishing that I would be allowed to hold him, to even touch him. We sat and drank tea that day for hours; it was the weirdest thing ever.

I started work the following week and it turned out that I got to see a lot of Harry. My mother was slowly coming out of her depression. Harry would visit the manor frequently. Harry had confided in me that he was gay a several months after we started becoming friends. It was the day he broke up with Ginny, he felt so bad that he had to leave her. And when I asked him why he left her he told me. He looked up at me and said, "I'm gay, Draco. He took the shock on my face as disgust. I only found that out a week later when I asked him why hadn't been over or even spoken to me. When he told me the reason I laughed and told him I was shocked at the time and that I am also gay. A year after Harry's first visit to the manor, he asked me on a date. After the first date, we were pretty much inseparable for the next two years. Everything was so surreal I couldn't believe how happy my mother was; how happy I was. I owed it all to Harry. Then tragedy struck when my mother passed in her sleep. I was inconsolable. I only had her and Harry. I did not think I would be able to live without her. What if Harry left me? Then I would be left with no one. I fell into a deep depression after the funeral, even refusing to see Harry. He gave me my space for a while, but eventually he started to show up in my bedroom every morning dragging me to work, telling that my mother wouldn't want me to lose my job, that she wouldn't want me to isolate myself again. Once again, Harry saved me—this time again, from myself. He helped me get through all the despair that I felt. He helped me see that what I was doing wasn't what she would want. He helped me grieve the death of my mother. I am still not completely over the death of my mother, but every day it gets easier. Now I find myself thinking of all the good times we shared and not so much that she is gone. This is only because of my Harry. Yes, my Harry.

A month after my mother died, Harry asked me to sell the manor and move in with him. I happily obliged. Harry asked me to marry him a year and two months after we moved in together. When he asked me, I didn't answer instead I walked up to our bedroom and got the ring that in was planning on proposing to him with. When I got back he was still on his knee so I got down on one knee, too, opened the box, and told him, "Of course I will marry you." We married three months later. It wasn't a big thing. I know back in school I would have never wanted the wedding we had, but now it was the most beautiful day of my life. We had it in the back yard of our home. Our closest friends and family were all in attendance. Actually, it was mostly Harry's friends and family. Truthfully, I didn't need anyone but Harry. It could have been just him and me and it would have been perfect to me. I had grown close to Andromeda and Teddy before mother's death, so it was nice to have them there. Hermione Weasley had also become a good friend of mine. She was actually the person I asked to stand beside me when I married Harry.

I am the person I am today because of Harry, because he saved me all those times, because he took me into his heart, but now the question is can I save him? Can I save the man who saved me? A year after we were married Harry was working a case when he collapsed. He was in the hospital for two days; the healers finally were able to find out that it was the Cruciatus curse finally catching up on him. Then they gave him the news that broke him; the healer told him he couldn't be an Auror anymore. That it was not safe, and that they couldn't guarantee that he would not collapse again. Harry was devastated. He tried to talk Kingsley into letting him keep his job, but no one was going to risk the life of the Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One, whatever they were calling him now. So Harry got a desk job. To say he hated it was an understatement; I could see him becoming depressed. He was drinking heavily. He was going through a bottle of fire whiskey a night. Sometimes staying up until the wee hours in the morning and not going to work the next day. On these nights, I would owl his boss. It was never a problem. Let's face it, the man who killed Voldemort had to do a hell of a lot more than miss a few shifts to get fired. I was beginning to worry about Harry. I didn't know what to say to him. I could tell he was hurting, but I didn't know how to fix it. Even when I questioned him about his drinking, he would tell me that he was fine and that he was a grown man and was entitled a drink if he wanted one. I knew that something was wrong; I knew it wasn't just a drink and that I shouldn't have let it go as long as I did. Because now I am sitting in a chair in St. Mungo's, staring at the face of my unconscious husband who happens to be the strongest man I know—not physically, but emotionally—, but here we are.

The healers say he took a bottle of Muggle medicine and drank at least two bottles of fire whiskey. They told me he was trying to kill himself, but they are wrong. I know Harry wouldn't try to leave me. I know him. Don't I? He wouldn't leave me, would he? I was not home when it happened. When I got home I found him the floor of our bedroom barely breathing. The healers say that I called them just in time; they say that he could have been dead in another ten minutes. "But he will be fine," the healer said. They want to put him in the hospital until they think he won't harm himself. When I look at him, my heart hurts. I do not know how I let it get this bad. It doesn't matter now, though, Harry always tells me the past is the past, the future is the future, but the present is right now. So Harry, I am not going to lose you right now. That might be selfish, but I do not care. I am going to save you, my love. I am going to let them keep you in the hospital, I am going to make sure you cannot get your hands on a bottle of fire whiskey in a hundred mile radius of our home. I am going to help you beat this depression, my love. Because you are my world, and you will always be my world. Always.

A/N: Hoped you liked it! Don't forget to review! :)