The beginning of a post-Hogwarts era fanfic I started. I wanted to explore the relationship between Draco and Astoria and I always thought Draco was a bit... unstable? I don't know if that's the right word really, but anyway; here it is, please let me know what you think!
The door of the bar swung open and a tall, smartly dressed man stumbled through the entrance. A swirl of snow dashed out of the deep purple night behind him, desperately clawing at the warm air in the room, flakes dancing and falling on the mat at his feet. Somewhere above his ice-blonde head, a brass bell tinkled, announcing his arrival and causing the few people in the bar to glance his way, then focus their attention back to their drinks. He brushed his coat free of snowflakes and hurried over to the bar, behind which a thin, gaunt woman stood. Her lips were as pale as her skin, and her unkempt hair hung limply at her hollowed cheeks. Her collarbone protruded alarmingly every time she took a breath. In spite of the rest of her appearance, her eyes glittered with the look of someone who knew things, great things, secret things. Like a child who found the best hiding place in a game of hide-and-seek, or a great wizard who discovered the very deepest secrets of magic and life, or a wife who loved her husband so strongly it tore her up inside to see him leave her, to see him return to the place he had once loved, on the off chance he would see her once more...
"Draco. Draco! Please. Just...listen. Please. Don't go. I love you. Draco. Please." The woman flung herself at him, pushing her hands onto his chest and clutching at his robes. Draco grabbed her wrists and pulled her off him.
"Don't make this more difficult than it needs to be, Astoria!" he bellowed, "Do you think this is easy for me?", his voice suddenly became quieter, but with the change in volume came a change in tone; malice smothered his every word, fierce yet controlled, so poisonous it made Astoria gasp to hear it. This was not the man she had married, the man she had made a home with, the man she had loved. The man she did love. Draco turned his back, strode away from her, and bowed his head, bringing up the fingers of one hand to rub the bridge of his nose. Astoria tentatively stepped towards him, her footsteps unnecessarily loud. She reached out a trembling hand, the other at her quivering lip, tears welling in her sapphire eyes, and gently touched his back. The aggressive roll of his shoulder to throw her off that she expected didn't come: her hand stayed still. So much was said in that simple touch; her love seemed to flow directly from her heart, her mind, her soul, and down her arm to where it ricocheted off his back, extending in all directions like the rays of the sun, stretching in front of him to form a closely knit cage all around him, shielding and protecting him. But who would protect her? In the beginning, she had thought him perfect, but now... his eyes, once full of laughter and unsung melodies, had grown cold and stony as the floor beneath her feet; his confidence had been replaced by bitterness and anger, and his love seemed to have slowly vanished until not a trace remained behind. She suddenly found herself holding nothing at all, and clutched hopelessly at the air in front of her. Tears fell thick and fast down her pale cheeks as she dropped to her knees, head bent, her glossy raven hair falling over her face. He had Disapparated.