Disclaimer: Nothing in the HP world belongs to me, and I make no money off of this.
A/N: Written for Pairing/Song prompt Challenge (with the prompts DracoxHarry and "At Seventeen" by Janis Ian) and Unusual Ships Challenge (DracoxHarry)
At eleven, he knows nothing of the wizarding world. He simply smiles and takes in the glory of Hogwarts. He rejects you, and at eleven you hate him.
You are fifteen, bitter and cold. You still hate everything about him- the way his hair is so messy, the way he's so unorganized, the way when he laughs and that you can't help but smile. What you hate the most is the way you let him take over your thoughts and consume you. You know the way you're headed- the same way your father went. You hate it. Love is not meant for the wicked- not meant for pretty boys who married whomever their family asked. Love is the shy smiles you watch him and Weaslette exchange, and it is meant for heroes.
It's your last year of Hogwarts, and you are at your parents house. The Snatchers bring him to you, and ask you to identify him. You look at him, realizing this is as physically close as you've ever been to him. You look deep into those remarkable emerald eyes, as you lie and tell them you cannot be sure. However you both know that you know it's him. You save him, and you cannot decipher the look he gives you but it haunts you for weeks to come. You place the look years later as something akin to respect.
The battle has been won- he defeated the Dark Lord once and for all. He stands alone, looking at all the damage done to the magnificent castle. You are both only seventeen. Amongst all the rubble and tears and loss, at seventeen, you share a kiss. At seventeen, you finally feel alive. At seventeen you learn the truth- that love is idle dreams of youth, dreams you harboured yourself (once upon a time).
Now scars adorn your once fine features, and a ravaged face looks back at you every day. To the public, you are the same cold Pureblood heir. To the Purebloods, you lack in social graces- after all, that must be the reason why you choose to become an Auror. They do not realise that you want to be the hero in your own story now.
He marries Weaslette, and you marry Astoria Greengrass, just as everyone always expected you to. You feel dead inside. The years go by, and you end up working together. You are side by side with the only man who can make you feel anything anymore- rage, jealousy, joy, and love. You have never believed in chance or fate but now you are not so sure, as you end up partners again and again.
Every year, at the anniversary of the war, you stand alone and watch the crowds. You lost everything that mattered to you in that war, leaving you a shell. The war was horrible, and he understands that very well. You watch him arrive with his wife, and the couple dances happily. It pains you to see them. It pains you to see him unaware of her infidelity. You turn and go home, as no one spares you a second glance
They all look at him and whisper loudly. The war has been over for five years, your marriage has now been over for the last two years, and his divorce made the front cover of yesterday's paper. You hear every word whispered, and your heart hurts because you see the pain in his eyes. You say nothing, but place a hand on his shoulder and stand with him quietly as he buries his head in his hands. You aparate him out of the office you have shared for the past three years, and take him to your flat for tea. He doesn't understand; until he sees the old photos of yourself and Astoria, and remembers that you also know what it is like to lose someone you love. He leaves with a small smile and no words, an hour later. You would be offended, but when you close your eyes his smile is there and it's more than enough for you.
The next day in the Auror's office, he kisses you again. Just like he kissed you that day of the final battle. It feels like coming home. You finally feel alive again.
~fin~