The Beginning/The End?

I feel so safe, so warm. Harry's arms are tight around my waist. His voice is murmuring softly in my ear: "Everything is going to be alright." and that's when it hits me, it won't. Everything I worked for, all the progress I have made, it's all crumbling around me and all because of a picture in The Daily Prophet. We were just holding hands.

I jerk away. His comfort is too much, I can't handle the knowledge that I'm going to lose it all. I love him. I really love him. Unfortunately, that's not what people see. It's not what they want to see.

I see him sitting on a barstool talking amicably with his friends. I vaguely recognise Longbottom, and all I know about the girl that's sitting with him is that she used to be in Ravenclaw. Harry's laughter rings through the bar and his eyes light up at something the girl said. He looks different, happy. He looks nothing like the tired and broken boy I saw walk away from a battlefield, the field of a battle he had won. That must have been the last time I'd seen him.

I try to blend in with the background, even though I know it's not possible. If it isn't my bright hair that's attracting the attention, it's the stench of Death Eater that still seems to cling to me. It's as if people always know when one of them is in their midst, or maybe I should say one of us. I don't know anymore. Was I a Death Eater? The Mark on my arm appears to confirm it and so does the whole of the Wizarding World, even though I was pardoned. The only reason that happened is still sitting on his barstool, talking joyfully.

His eyes are still soft as if he knew I would push him away. "I love you," he whispers. He says it so quietly I don't recognise the words by their sound, but by the movement of his mouth. I see how his lips form the words and look away.

I get three glares and a kick before I reach a table. I ask for a Firewhiskey without making eye contact and then I try to shrink away into the shadows. It's been a long time since I've been out of the Manor without reason. I usually do what I have to do in the shortest amount of time possible and return home. This time Pansy insisted I meet her here. She believes people will change their minds if we act as if nothing happened. I gave up on that dream a long time ago.

It's just my luck that 'The Saviour Of The Wizarding World' is sitting in this exact same bar. I'm just glad he hasn't seen me. The thought hasn't left my head when he turns around. He gets off his stool and walks purposely towards me. I let my mask slip into place and tilt my chin up. He doesn't have to know I've given up. My heart beats in my throat and my palms start sweating. I'm nervous, but I have no idea why. I sit up straight and am just about to sneer when he walks right passed me without so much as a glance. I turn around and see the restroom door fall shut.

He knows how I feel about him. I know he knows. Everybody knows, everyone that needs to anyway. Even Ronald Weasley; he had a hard time accepting it, but he knows. The feeling is so overwhelming my knees buckle and I slump against the wall. Harry is with me in an instant.

I let out a sigh of relief and try to ignore the disappointment that settles in my chest. To get my mind off it I cast a tempus and curse Pansy for being late, again. A gulp of firewhiskey calms me down.

"Malfoy."

I jolt out of my chair. So much for calm.

"Potter."

He nods and I see a barely noticeable curving of his lips. He must be pleased to catch me off-guard.

"How's it going?"

"Great. You?"

"Same."

I force a tight-lipped smile and get one in return.

"I should go. My friends are waiting. Have a great day."

"Of course. You too."

I sob. Even to my own ears it sounds heart-breaking and it's uncontrollable.

"Don't worry, Draco, nothing will happen. I'm here for you."

I know that, but there are some things even Harry Potter can't get away with. Loving Draco Malfoy is one of them.

Finally Pansy arrives. Her high heels make a loud clicking sound. It's as if she's daring people to mess with her. I notice the glares are less venomous and apparently even my attacker thinks that kicking a woman is not done. Pansy reaches my table without problems.

"Good evening, darling. Everything alright?"

She knows I don't want to be here. So I grunt, but when she kisses my cheek I pull her close. She smiles at me before she sits down.

She starts gossiping immediately. Did I know that the Greengrass's youngest daughter was getting married? Did I hear about Theodore Nott's divorce? It doesn't surprise Pansy. His soon to be ex-wife gained 15 pounds in the last six months. Did I see that article in The Daily Prophet? Harry Potter suffers from depression since his divorce. That gets my attention.

"Yes. Apparently he's been miserable since the she-weasel took off with that quidditch player more than a year ago."

I glance over Pansy's shoulder and watch Potter throw his head back in another resonating laugh.

"He doesn't look miserable to me."

I tell him that and he doesn't believe me. He honestly doesn't believe we'll be tormented until we give up our relationship. Even though I've been through it. Even though I'm still going through it, when he's not there. I know what people with a grudge are like. Fortunately he doesn't. He wouldn't be Harry Potter if he did. In his eyes people are good. I believe – no, I know I know better.

"What do you mean? You haven't seen him in ages."

That's when she notices I'm not looking at her. So she turns around.

"Merlin, what a coincidence. Did he see you?"

I hum affirmatively.

"What did he say? What did you say? Are you alright?"

And just like that I clearly remember why we are friends. She may be superficial and gossipy, but she's loyal to a fault. She would do anything to make me happy.

"I'm fine. He asked how I was. That's all."

"They can't do anything. We love each other, they can't hurt us."

He pulls me close again, but this time it's to comfort himself. He holds me tight and kisses the top of my head repeatedly, all the while whispering "They can't hurt us." I let him.

Pansy looks relieved and starts chattering again. She probably knows I don't want to talk about Potter. When there finally is a pause in her babbling I tell her I need to go home. I don't bother making up an excuse. She will notice I'm lying anyway. So I just wish her a good night, give her a kiss and grab my coat. I am just about to put it on when I get shoved, hard. I fall backwards and hit my head against the corner of a table.

Confused I look around me and touch the backside of my head. I hiss when I feel the bruise that is already forming there. Before I am able to get up, a man pushes his wand against the soft underside of my chin.

"Scum!" he yells.

I try to get away, but I'm cornered. Pansy is nowhere to be seen and the rest of the costumers are looking uncomfortable, but don't react otherwise.

"I can't believe they let you in here! Filthy Death Eater!"

He jabs his wand several time and I flinch away from the sharp point digging in my sensitive skin. Suddenly the man spits in my face. I feel it dripping down my cheek and rub it away before it hits the ground. I know better than to do anything else.

Seeing Harry so distressed, even though there isn't a tear in sight, calms my own sobbing down. I let out a shaky breath and snuggle in his arms.

I confirm "No, they can't hurt us."

That's when Pansy returns. To my horror Potter is with her.

"If I were you, I would step away," he says with a threatening voice.

The man is just about to retort when he notices who exactly is speaking to him. He deflates considerably.

"But I…"

"Put your wand down." Potter doesn't yell, but he sounds frightening nevertheless.

"No, he kil-"

"Draco Malfoy didn't kill anyone. Now. Put. Your. Wand. Down."

The man twists his face into a scowl, but does what he is told, turns and walks away. Potter shifts his gaze to me and holds out a hand. I take it.