A/N: I had always thought that when I made a sequel to fic, it would be another happy one. It would be about Draco and Harry's wedding. It would be sappy and perfect. Little Teddy would be a bit older; more talkative, cute as all hell. Friends and family would come along and support the two finally.

But I don't do sappy, happy endings. I'm not good at them. They don't make me happy. This ain't a romance novel, folks. So buckle up and get ready for quite a bumpy ride.

Please remember to leave kudos and reviews! I haven't written in awhile, so it would be nice to get some feedback!

Draco, much like everyone else in the world with any common sense, didn't believe in coincidences. Especially not since he felt like the world had some sort of personal vendetta against him specifically.

Today was a day he had awoken with regret. It happened often, so this was no surprise, really. That dull ache was usually at the back of his mind, just present enough to keep a full smile from reaching the outer corners of his lips. And it was with that confused look that he turned and stared at the messy head of dark hair beside him in their bed, just as he did every morning.

From there, the day went by just as normal as it started. The blandness of work, the aggravation of continual human interaction, the desperate intakes of nicotine during small breaks and finally at day's end. And, thankfully, the walk back home. The sweet scents of the budded lilacs as he passed the house on the corner. The irritating yapping of the dog next door. The early evening's retreating sun beating down on his delicate skin. And the lurking promise that it would all happen again tomorrow. Just as normal and just as wrong.

The ache in his heart was heavier than he'd felt in a long time as Draco stepped through the front door. So violent was it that he had to tell himself to take a deep breath and calm down. He was not alone.

And he was expected to return that genuine grin.

"Hey," Draco muttered softly, using the excuse of untying his shoes to break the intimidating eye contact. "What's for dinner?"

Those kind eyes, blue as impenetrable ice, showed him that his partner had not a single doubt in the world. "Portabella mushroom burgers and olive oil garlic purple potatoes. They're on the grill outside. How does that sound?"

"Like I hope you don't set the grill on fire this time." Draco forced a smile, pushed aside his fears for the moment. He was here for a reason. He was happy. He was. The other man flushed a dark red at the trudged up memory. "I'm only kidding; it sounds wonderful, Shea."

The hesitant demeanor had washed away for the moment. Draco was relaxed. He was home. He was where he had allowed himself to feel happy. Padding across the floor, in only his socks now, he leaned in to give the other man a proper greeting. His fingers came up to tangle in the strands of brown hair at the base of Shea's neck. His lips found the other's easily, an action perfected after three years together. Three hard years of trying to forget; remapping all those thoughts and feelings inside of him with something entirely different. And yet so familiar….

The similarities were the hardest part. The first time Shea had slipped on a pair of glasses, replacing his contacts, Draco nearly broke down. They weren't round-framed or in any way like those he knew too well, but it was enough to make him falter.

Dark hair that refused to lay flat. Olive skin that tanned to a rich bronze. A terrible penchant for leaving things half-finished. The red flush that crept slowly over his chest when Draco got down on his knees, coaxing life into his cock.

And yet…they were still so different. Just different enough to make it bearable.

"Hey, Astoria and Taylor are coming over in a bit," Shea interjected, placing a soft hand on Draco's chest and giving them some distance. "You should get changed."

The kiss, and the memories struggling inside of him, left Draco with clouded eyes. His fingers trailed Shea's waistband, giving a small tug when he reached just above the button. "Maybe you should come help me change…." His voice dripped with heavy heat and obvious desire.

"Later, Sugar. I have to make sure the grill isn't on fire…again." Shea winked, swinging his hips as he walked away. His small figure was enough to drive any man wild. A curvy bubbled butt, muscles perfectly formed from years of vigorous yoga, and the soft androgynous face of an angel.

Draco changed out of his uniform quick, afraid to be alone with his thoughts for too long today. When he returned to the kitchen, Shea had everything ready. He was prepared, as always – dutiful and punctual. "A letter came for you, by the way," Shea said, slipping out the backdoor. "Looks fancy!"

"It's probably just the cable company trying to get us to come back. That's how they trick you into opening the damned things. Don't know what accomplishes, exactly…." Sure enough, there was a small envelope on the top of the mail stack by the fridge. He picked it up, examining the pearlized paper as he followed his boyfriend. He slipped a cigarette between his lips, flicking a lighter until his lungs began to fill with smoke. Relaxing him. Numbing him to the wild possibilities running through his head.

Shea watched Draco take a seat at the patio table, not bothering to hide his curiosity. "There's no way it's from the cable company. It's postmarked international. Maybe it's from your parents? Though I don't know why they wouldn't put a return address on it."

Because it's not from them…, Draco thought, feeling a deep pit open in his stomach. He slipped a finger under the flap, sliding it across the seal. Severing the only thing keeping the secret in. Suddenly his deep regret earlier made sense. It was a sense of foreboding. There was only one person this letter could be from. Suddenly he wasn't sure he even wanted to open the envelope.

He took a never-ending drag on his cigarette, sneaking a glance up at Shea. He was being watched carefully, the other man trying to discern the look on his face. "Well?"

Draco exhaled a rush of smoke, recklessly tearing the envelope the rest of the way open. The first thing he felt was cardstock between his fingers. The second was the pit extending from his stomach down to the ground. Like his whole body had dropped away, leaving him a floating mess of nerves. "Fuck," he whispered as his eyes scanned the front of the folded card.

"Merlin's hairy, white ballsack – what the fuck!"

There was a buzzing so loud in Draco's ears that he hadn't even heard the girls arrive. Shea was busy taking the food off the grill, otherwise his look said he'd be at Draco's side in a heartbeat. "Why is Astoria bringing out the weird swears? What's going on?"

Draco felt Astoria's hand on his shoulder, soft and comforting. Taylor and Shea were both looking on, concerned, but ultimately gave them a little space.

You are cordially invited

to the wedding of

Harry James Potter

Charles Junius Weasley

"Dray…I'm so sorry…. This is a major dick move and…and I'm so sorry." Astoria just kept saying it over and over again. And the more she said it…the more Draco wanted to get up and punch something. And then maybe burst into tears. And possibly fall into a never-ending coma afterwards.

"It's fine," Draco whispered after a minute of awkward silence. He slowly set the invitation down on the table and shrugged. Forced himself to shrug. "It's not a big deal, Tori. I literally do not care. Is the food ready, Lover?" To give himself something to do, Draco pulled himself up to his feet. "It's an invitation to my ex's wedding. I'm not traveling back home for that shit. It's a serious waste of paper and postage."

Inside, his heart was screaming something entirely different. It was tearing itself apart, heartstring by heartstring. He was devastated and had zero right to be. After all, he had been the one to leave. That could have been his wedding….

"Yeah, it's ready," Shea whispered, placing a gentle hand over Draco's heart. Feeling the erratic heartbeat that gave him away. "Sit back down; I'll get you a drink."

Draco sank heavily into his chair, gratefully accepting the cocktail slid into his hand. In addition to preparing dinner, Shea had taken the time to mix up spiked lavender lemonade. The first sip hit him like a relaxing wave. He didn't even try to stop himself from greedily gulping down the rest. There was another glass in front of him before he'd even realized it.

The other three watched him with wary eyes as they loaded up plates and joined him at the table. "The food looks great, babe," Taylor muttered, pressing a kiss to Shea's cheek.

Shea smiled, trying to normalize the evening. Trying to pretend there wasn't a thick haze of tension hanging over them. "I couldn't get any writing done this afternoon. I don't know…a case of the Fridays or something. Anyway, I had to get out of the house. I just…drove and drove until I didn't recognize where I was anymore. I was about an hour away or so when I stumbled upon a farmer's market. It was nothing like the one we have here. It was huge and beautiful and everything smelt…like a farm fresh heaven.

"So, yeah…long story short – I didn't get any work done, but you all get to stuff your faces with wholesome American-grown food."

Draco let everyone talk and laugh and have fun. He even managed to force a few smiles and chuckles of his own. He could feel the occasional worried look aimed his direction, but chose to ignore them. No sense in ruining everyone else's night.

"We can hold off if you're not okay with it…."

Snapping out of his daze, Draco slid his gaze to his boyfriend. Taylor was in his lap, eagerly rocking her boyish body into his. "No, no," he rushed to say, "please go. Blow off some steam for me."

"We'd love it if you wanted to join…." The offer was just put out there as a polite front. Shea knew there was no way that distracted look was able to get in bed and be of any worth.

"I'm good," Draco returned, his tone just as necessarily polite. "I'm just going to nab a refill and enjoy the sunset."

Shea pressed his lips to Draco's temple for an extended second before disappearing into the house. Draco was left at the table, a nearly-drained pitcher of booze, and his best friend. The only one in the world who could read straight through his marbled expression. "Aren't you going to join in on the fun?" he muttered in her general direction, sitting up to empty the pitcher fully into his glass.

"No," Astoria said sweetly back, scooting her chair closer to his. "Not when I can see you're being torn apart from the inside out." He pointedly looked away, about to make a denial. "Hey, I know you, Draco. Don't tell me this doesn't hurt you. Don't tell me you don't still love him…."

Draco wasn't even going to try and deny that fact. He did still love Harry. He always would. There were no ill feelings there because that man had never done anything to him to deserve it. Moisture fogged his vision and he glanced back down at the tip of the invitation, peeking out from under his plate. An actual tear rolled down his cheek and he rushed to wipe it away. "I knew he'd move on. That was the point. I just…didn't expect it to be so quick. And I certainly didn't expect to have to face it so plainly." He slumped over, forehead hitting the heated glass with a thunk. "It hurts, Astoria…. Why did I do this to myself? Why did I do it to him?"

XxX

Draco was no good at keeping promises. Not even a year had passed before he was feeling that itch to flee again. That ring on his finger kept taunting him, shining in the corner of his eye every time he started to feel content again.

Astoria was still in America by the time Draco had come to a real decision. She was happy there. Thriving. Maybe Draco could be, too.

"If I had known you were coming for a visit…. Well, I would have cleaned up a bit." Astoria was stunning, as ever. The Californian sun clearly agreed with her, as did the buzzed haircut that accentuated her delicate features. She let Draco in, busily trying to clear away dirty clothes and dishes from the apartment's quaint living room.

"It's fine, Tori…I didn't have much notice to give. Bit of a rash decision. You don't…happen to have a spare bed, do you?" Draco folded himself down into the secondhand couch, tossing away a neon-colored phallic object that had prodded him from the cushions.

She didn't catch on straight away, smiling and shaking her head like he should know better. "Of course not. Since I'm a disappointment, I'm on my own financially. That means roommates, darling. If you can't handle the couch, you are perfectly welcome to purchase a hotel room." A sneaky smile crossed her lips as she settled down beside him. She must have decided that things were clean enough, even if the state of the room hadn't really changed. "So…please tell me the handsome beau is coming along soon. It really would be brilliant to say that the 'amazing' Harry Potter stepped foot in my little place and watch my parents freak."

"Tor…," It was all Draco was able to get out before sobs cut his voice. He had been holding it all in since leaving. And that said a lot considering he'd been in no state to apparate and therefore had been on an airplane for nearly twelve hours.

He tried to speak, to explain, but only watery garbage came out. "Honey…I can't understand you. You sound like you're drowning in your own snot," Astoria nervously giggled, wrapping her arms around his shaking shoulders. "Did you two have a row?"

Draco felt like he was drowning. He couldn't breathe and his brain was nothing but fog. He was so used to arguing with himself nonstop since Harry and he had begun. Now that he'd finally made up his mind, his thoughts were silent. The heaviness of it was harsh and too-real. Crippling.

XxX

"So…are you going to go?"

The bedroom was dark but for the neon numbers on the alarm clock. Draco watched them flip over to midnight and squeezed his eyes shut tight. He couldn't sleep, not with the sudden surge of activity in his mind. It was pretty obvious that Shea was in the same boat. Or, at least a similar one, skimming along beside him.

"Would you? If you were me…would you go?" Draco whispered back.

An arm snaked around Draco's waist, pulling him in close. The night was hot – they always were here. They couldn't bear to sleep with more than a thin sheet; naked and intimate. It was almost more than he could handle right now, considering he wanted desperately to crawl out of his skin.

There was no answer. He hadn't really expected one. Shea didn't know the full story. Draco could never tell him all the details. Partly because Shea was a Muggle. That life was a whole world away from where he was now. Without knowing about the war and Hogwarts and…all the shit that he'd done…. And everything that Harry had done that was so much better! Without knowing all of that, how could he really understand why Draco had made the decision to leave?

The other reason? If Draco told Shea he had left because Harry was worthy of something better than his pathetic self…. What would that say about them? That was sure be the end of the decent thing he had here. A home, a bed, someone to cook for him. Someone to love him even though he probably didn't deserve it.

It wasn't that Shea wasn't still better than Draco. He was. The man was kind-hearted and extremely likeable. But he wasn't save-the-world Saintly. Just existing in the same space as him didn't cause Draco to rethink literally every decision he'd ever made. And Shea didn't know his past. That was important. He didn't have to feel like he was being secretly judged all the time.

XxX

"Are you sure you don't want to find an apothecary to work at?" Astoria snapped a lid on the latte she'd just finished. "Here you go, sweetie. Enjoy!" She gave the man picking it up a teasing wink. He rewarded her in kind with a generous tip. With a winning grin, she turned back to Draco, taking the mugs he had just finished washing. "I mean…your apprenticeship is still worth something here. You're wasting your talents making sub-par, overpriced coffee for assholes who 'can't afford' to tip."

Draco shrugged and smiled lazily. "So are you. For the record." She gave him an award-winning eye roll. "I need a break from that world right now. I can't stand to ben around anyone who might bring him up in casual conversation."

"Hey, who you gotta screw to get a drink in this place?"

Astoria squeezed Draco's shoulder gently and turned her attention back to the register. "Well, that would be me, darling." She gave the man standing there a jaw-dropping grin and leaned in closer. "What's the poison of choice today?"

The man's eyes were skimming right past Astoria. The instant he had noticed Draco, she became nothing but a wall to him. "Who's the new one?"

She turned, her grin now sickeningly mischievous. "This isn't a 'new one'. This is my Draco. He's come to stay with me for a while. Bad break-up and all…." Draco busied himself with slowly drying a dish, praying that the heat he felt in his cheeks was imagined.

"What kind of name is Draco?"

All hints of bashfulness went out the window. Draco's ice-cold glare fixed upon the admittedly attractive customer as he delivered an easy retort. "It's a traditional Black family name." His words were harsh and heavy, wiping that proud smirk right off the other's face.

"But you're white…."

Draco actually had to stop and process that whispered state-of-fact. He didn't move a muscle but to narrow his eyes in a miffed squint. "Black…with a big 'B'," was all he came up with in response. His next move was to disappear into the backroom, eager to hide the entertained grin resolutely fixed upon his lips.

"He asked me to relay an apology to 'Mr. Big B Black'." A few minutes later, Astoria had stuck her head into the room, giving the all-clear. "Good job humiliating the poor thing."

Suddenly, Draco felt like he'd found an out. A way to slide into a new life. A way to forget Potter. He cursed himself for running to hide and worried at his lip. "Did he…maybe leave a telephone number or something?" It wouldn't have been the first time since he started working here. It had, however, been the first that he'd felt so at ease with the person who had done so.

"Who, Shea?" Astoria snorted, pulling a Muggle portable phone from her back pocket. She flipped it open with purpose, furiously clicking buttons. "No need, darling. He's one of my loves. Occasionally. I actually met Taylor through him." Her eyes aglow with excitement, she clicked the phone shut and returned it to her pocket. "You are just his type, too." She paused on her way out the door, turning back to give Draco a kiss on the cheek. "I just didn't think he'd ever be yours…. Muggle. Bi. One hundred percent a Muggle…. A sect of people your former allegiances wished to eradicate…. Regardless…I'm going to try my damnedest to get you on a date with him. It'll be so good for you. Something different, you know? New."