A/N: I've never written anything before so.. be kind? I suppose. This was only supposed to be a one-shot but I don't wanna write the entire thing if no one is going to read it so this is just the very beginning. Super short, I know. I have a billion ideas but it's hard to articulate those thoughts into an actual story so I figured a one-shot was a decent place to start. However it's probably gonna end up being multiple chapters instead.. Not sure yet because this is all I've written so far. Anyway, this fic is loosely based on "Another Love" by Tom Odell, check it out, if you want!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, it belongs to J.K. Rowling.

When he first saw her after the war it had been four years. She was sitting at a table in a coffee shop in muggle London by herself. His first thought was that she looked defeated. Her hands were wrapped around her mug as if her life depended on it. Her eyes, once bright and full of life, were glazed over as she looked off into the distance out the shop window. She was wearing an oversized jumper and muggle jeans. Her once curly and out of control hair seemed flat and deflated as it lay down her back. Draco knew he shouldn't just stand there and stare, especially considering it was cold and raining, but he couldn't look away. In the second he finally decided he was going to walk away and pretend it never happened her brown eyes seemed to lock exactly on his grey ones. Not knowing what else to do he politely nodded, broke eye contact, then walked away.

The next time he saw her it was two weeks later. She was, once again, sitting by herself in that damn coffee shop. She appeared much the same as she did the last time he saw her. He wondered why she looked so crushed the last time he saw her and discovered that the Weasel had cheated on her and broke off their four-year relationship. Every scandalous detail was splashed across the pages of The Daily Prophet. Draco couldn't say he was surprised by this turn of events. Weasley always was a gigantic tosser. He'd never understood why someone like her was interested in him to begin with. For a reason he couldn't understand, he felt as if he should talk to her. Merlin knew why, considering everyone, especially her, hated him. Walking into the coffee shop he purposefully kept his eyes straight ahead, pretending he wasn't aware of her presence. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her and immediately decided this was a foolish idea. After ordering a coffee, black, he turned around and headed to the door, intent on leaving without a word. He thought he could do this, but he couldn't. He needed to get out of there as soon as possible before she-

"Malfoy?"

He froze. His heart was thumping so loud he could've sworn everyone in that fucking shop could hear it. Straightening his spine and attempting to mask his face into one of confident indifference, he turned to her.

"Granger," he smoothly replied. Looking at her straight on, and up-close for the first time was daunting. She looked like a ghost. Her skin was paler than usual, and she had purple splotches under her eyes. Her hair looked unbrushed, more so than usual. Her jumper was stained in a few places and her jeans had holes in them.

"I thought that was you. Wh-What are you doing here? I mean this isn't.. I'm surprised to see you in this part of London, that is," she murmured quietly.

"Yes, well, things change, Granger. If you'll excuse me I have somewhere to be," he calmly drawled.

"Right. Of course. It was nice seeing you.." she trailed off.

He knew he shouldn't care. He doesn't care. But the look in her eyes.. the fucking look in her eyes. She looked so defeated but, and he was probably imagining it, it almost looked like she had some life back in her eyes when she recognized him. Then when he brushed her off with his vague lie she instantly deflated again. After realizing he was just staring at her while he was internally struggling, he awkwardly cleared his throat.

"Alright, Granger?" he inquired, not making eye contact.

"Quite fine, thank you. I should get going too. Goodbye, Malfoy," she hastily said, as she gathered her things then left.

The next time they saw each other it was at a park. This time, he was the one who was a mess. His shirt was untucked on one side, the buttons at the top were undone, and his tie was loosely hanging around his neck. His hair was in disarray, as if he had been running his hands through it non-stop. He looked similar to how he looked back in sixth year, when in the prime of his Death Eater days. Pale skin, purple bruises under his eyes, incredibly thin; this time he was the ghost. Hermione was sitting on a blanket with her back pressed against the trunk of a tree, book in her hand, when she saw him. She hadn't thought much of Draco Malfoy after the war ended. She, like Harry and Ron, had attended his trial and attempted to keep him out of Azkaban. Her more so than the boys. She never liked Malfoy, don't misconstrue her feelings. She just simply never agreed with the idea that he was a murderer or anywhere half as bad as the other Death Eaters. It was obvious to her that he never wanted that life. Malfoy may have been a bigot and a bully at school, but he was not an evil monster who wanted to serve Voldemort. Anyone who saw him sixth year could attest to that. However, the reason she believed in his innocence more than the boys had everything to do with that night at Malfoy Manor. As she was being tortured by Bellatrix she saw Malfoy. For one second as the spell abided and her screaming stopped they made eye contact. That one second was enough for her to tell that he didn't want the life he was living. He was terrified. He was miserable. He was broken.

He had the same look now.

"Alright, Malfoy?"

Draco stopped and looked around confused. There, sitting on the ground with a book in her hand, was Hermione Granger. She looked better than the last time he saw her. Her hair, though still ratty and unkempt, was in a ponytail. Her jumper was clean this time, and her jeans intact. The bags under her eyes weren't as prominent this time and she wasn't as pale or thin as before, but her eyes still had a deadened look to them. Overall, she still looked a mess. Although he supposed he didn't really have room to talk about someone else looking a mess considering his own appearance. The past three weeks he had been working tirelessly to divorce his cheating whore of a wife Astoria. After the war he didn't have many prospects for companionship, but he thought he had found at the least a friend in the youngest Greengrass sister. Over time they eventually developed a budding romance that led to him asking for her hand in marriage. He didn't exactly love her, but he needed an heir, and she was quite nice to look at and converse with. It wasn't like he had any other options, being an ex-Death Eater and all. They had been married the last two years and hadn't been able to produce an heir yet. Apparently his lovely wife decided she wanted to keep his family's fortune and since she wasn't being impregnated by him fast enough she sought out another option in the form of Adrian Pucey. Too bad Pucey has a big mouth and was bragging about his latest conquest at a local pub. As of this morning the divorce was official, and the weeks of stress and misery were clearly catching up to him.

"Just peachy, Granger," he drawled. "You?"

"Fine, I'm fine," she murmured with a small smile.

"That's excellent," he deadpanned. "I'm going to walk away now. See ya."

He didn't want to be an arsehole, but he really wasn't in the mood to have a conversation with the golden princess. Walking away, he didn't see the small look of disappointment that crossed her features.

A/N: ? They're both in a bad place right now, but it'll pick up more soon. I've already started writing chapter two sooo x