Tequila, Beginnings, and Goodbyes
Author: Bemidia
Rating: K+
R&R please!

Three years... A thousand miles...

And still...

He was there, staring into his beer, while his friends all chatted around him. I'd missed him, but I'd never tell him that. After all, he's the one who left. I silently signaled Tom for another drink. I didn't want my voice to carry, and have him look up at me.

I don't think my heart could take it.

It was three drinks later, that he sat down on the stool next to me. And the barely healed pieces of my heart shattered once more.

"Malfoy."

So we were back to this after all that time. "Potter."

"You back for good this time?" He glanced over at me.

"Only as long as it amuses me, Potter. You know that." I smirked into my tequila, then threw it back, and signaled another.

"You know, I was going to apologize for my actions the last time we spoke, but you're just going to be an arse like always." Harry glared at me, and I still smirked. His hissed statement drew looks from the people around us, but I didn't care. He would though.

"You're three years too late, Potter. I might have been willing to forgive you that first month, maybe if you begged during the second, but now it's just too late. The damage is too old for even you to repair it." My voice was even, and clear, and some pathetic part of myself was proud. I threw back my sixth tequila of the night. "Shouldn't you be getting back to Ronnie?" I tossed a sharp glance at the table where he'd been sitting. Sure enough, Ron Weasley was sitting there glaring at me, as though it was my fault.

"Don't call him that." Harry's voice contained the hard edge that used to turn me on. To my dismay, it still did.

"Why not? You did, in your sleep." I glanced at him. "Even though you were in my bed." I threw back the seventh shot. "And then you left me for him, so I think I'll call him whatever I want."

"It's not his fault." His eyes had gone flat and cold.

"No, it's not." That got a shimmer of surprise through the green. "I know I blamed him when it happened, but I just didn't want to blame who was actually responsible."

"You?" Harry's eyebrows raised.

"No. All I did was love you with everything I had." I didn't mean to say that, but the look on his face was almost worth the embarrassment. "It was you. Your fault. You just didn't love me as much as I did you. It took a long time to understand that." A single tear rolled down my cheek. I reached up and drew it off with a single fingertip. "Didn't think I could even do that anymore." I licked it with the tip of my tongue, tasting the salt spread over my taste buds. "Well, Potter, the tequila's making me sentimental, so I'm thinking I should go." I stood up, proud that I didn't sway. But with the way I've been drinking, it would take more than seven tequilas to push me over the edge.

"Draco..." Your voice was soft and small, like the first time you'd told me you loved me.

I looked down and saw tears in your eyes for the first time since we left school. One came to rest on your cheek, and it hurt so much seeing it there that I leaned down and kissed it away. "This pain will pass, Harry. It has to. And by the time she's eleven you won't remember why you were crying."

"She?"

I pulled out a picture. A muggle picture. Of a little girl with pale flawless skin, silver-blonde hair, and killing curse green eyes. "She'll be three soon." And I looked at intently. And he got it. She was his, also. He went to hand back the photo but I shook my head. "Keep it." I kissed him softly on the lips. "I won't be back."

Another tear fell from his eyes, and I wiped it away. "Draco..."

I straightened and looked at Weasley moving towards him. "I hear anything about you hurting him, and I'll make your life a living hell, Weasley."

Ron looked at me for a long moment, then at Harry. And nodded. "Not coming back, Malfoy?"

"My name's not Malfoy anymore, and no I'm not." I drew my wand from my pocket, and snapped it in two. The gasps echoed around the now silent bar. I set the pieces on the bar before taking the rest of my wizarding money and handing it to Tom. "Thanks for everything."

The barkeep nodded at me. "Anytime, Draco."

Then I removed my robes to reveal a white muggle t-shirt and a pair of jeans. I tossed the robes over the vacant barstool. "Goodbye, Harry." I gazed for a long moment at his tear-filled eyes, the wanting almost overwhelming my resolve.

But I turned, walked onto the muggle street, and hailed a cab.