A/N: Was informed that I was not allowed to have the song lyrics in the story anymore, so I have removed them. This story will make more sense if you read it well listening to Miranda Lambert's song "Over You"
How Dare You
Draco trudged through the snow, wind biting into the exposed skin of his face. Hogsmeade had been rebuilt after the war, but Draco still saw the destruction every time he looked at the town. The final battle had been fought and the Light side had won, but at a heavy cost.
Pushing the solid oak door to his little cottage open and quickly shutting it behind him, Draco shivered at the sudden warmth. The fireplace was giving off a cheerful glow to the living room. Draco sat down on the couch and stared into the flames.
Staring into the flickering flames, Draco slipped back in time, to when he and Harry had picked out this cottage. They had imagined getting bonded and having a house full of children, growing old together. But no longer. Draco snatched the vase from the coffee table and hurled it at the stone fireplace with a scream. He stared at the shattered glass for a moment, thinking that it looked a lot like the shattered hopes and dreams that Harry had dared to give him. With a flick of his wand, the vase was once more whole. But as a tear slipped down his cheek, Draco knew that his heart would never be so easily mended.
"Don't … don't you think it's time to move on Draco darling?" Pansy asked hesitantly. She shrank back from the heated glare Draco sent her way. "Never!" he hissed at her. "I am never moving on, I don't want to move on! Why can't any of you see that?"
He had been told it was unhealthy to refuse to change anything, move anything, in his little cottage. But why would he want to? This was the way that Harry had left it, before The Battle. If Draco never allowed it to be changed, in even the littlest way, than it felt like Harry could still be coming home any day.
As Draco was preparing for bed, he put on one of Harry's old muggle records. He gently stroked one as he remembered mocking Harry for using a muggle music machine, outdated muggle technology at that. Harry had just smiled and pulled Draco into his arms to dance around the room, the soft sound of the record ending going unnoticed as the two gently swayed in each other's arms.
Draco hugged Harry's pillow to himself as he sobbed himself to sleep. Sometimes, the anger at Harry leaving him would bubble up and explode out of Draco. He would scream and curse Harry. Curse himself for ever being so foolish as to fall in love with The Boy Who Lived. This was all Harry's fault. How Draco wished he could make Harry pay for causing him all this pain and sorrow.
Draco knew that it was getting bad, and was starting to slip, when Weasley of all people started asking if he was alright. That was when Draco knew he needed to reapply his glamor charms, as people were starting to see the bags under his bloodshot eyes, the shallow skin and the weight he had lost. He just could not bring himself to care past covering the signs to get a little peace from friends.
Draco walked along the small, deserted street until he reached the cemetery. He followed the path that his feet had worn into the snow. Once he reached the life size statue, he gently brushed the snow off the small place. Draco then traced the words he knew by heart, after all he had read them every day since they were carved, "Here rests the man who died for love. Love of a society that opened up a new world to him. He vanquished the greatest evil in the Wizarding World, and leaves behind many who will mourn his passing".
Draco spent trudged home as the light finished fading from the sky, well aware that tomorrow would bring much the same. Draco would spend his days with his love, waiting for the time when he could rejoin his beloved and be whole once more.