"Where are you taking her?" Draco demands, words stumbling over one another. He's just come home, only to find his two lovers, trunks in hand.
"Away from you! She doesn't deserve to be abused by you any longer. We both don't!" Harry's face is flushed, much like when they're in the bedroom, except now, it's flushed in anger. Anger directed at him. "We're leaving, Draco. Goodbye."
Hermione looks back, giving him a red-eyed glance before the door closes—click—, leaving Draco truly alone in the large, empty house.
Though the drink is still coursing in his bloodstream, his head woozy from its effects, his mind wanders, remembering…
His lips are pressed hard against Harry's, tongues fighting fiercely for dominance. Vaguely, he's aware of Hermione's hand slipping lower… lower, reaching his nether regions. He moans softly, and Hermione giggles. Draco scowls at her glee, temporarily breaking away from Harry.
In retaliation, his own hand finds its way to Hermione's breast, his fingers dancing over her nipple.
His response is another giggle.
There are other equally heated moments as well.
"I told you, the house-elves deserve their rights. Why are you so thick?" Hermione shouts.
"They're born this way. It's ingrained in them to be our servants." Draco wrings his hand in frustration. How can a woman be so infuriating?
Harry sits on the couch, watching their exchange in amusement.
There are the happy times. Last weekend, they just spent the afternoon in Madam Puddifoot's, for Merlin's sake, not a care in the world.
And, there are the not-so-happy times.
They stand in front of the two headstones, Draco and Hermione watching, as Harry commemorates his parents' death anniversary. He does that every year and Draco has been there with him for the last two.
He listens to Harry talk to his parents, telling them about the going-ons, their relationship, how blessed he is to have Draco and Hermione.
Before they leave, abruptly, Harry stops, and he throws his arms around Draco, hugging him tightly.
"Thank you for being here with me," Harry murmurs into his shoulder. Draco nods. "It's… an honour that you've asked me to come, Harry. Given my past…"
Harry places a chaste kiss on his lips. "What's happened has happened, Draco. It's no use digging up old grievances." Harry turns to Hermione and smiles.
"Let's go, shall we?"
The bit of idealism he's never managed to get rid of thought they'd always be together, despite his escalating drinking problems. He'd thought he'd be able to kick the habit with the help of Harry and Hermione, however hard they fought about it.
But no. There was a breaking point, and he's smashed right through it.
A lone tear slithers down his cheek, before it explodes into full-out waterworks.
He sobs, and sobs, and sobs.