DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling does not me, not today and not ever *tear* I do not own Starbucks or any sort of commercial brand mentioned in this story, The owners of those get due credit.

Warnings: Language, rated M for possible sexual escapades in later chapters. And vague memories of Non Con (malfoycest ) Character death (Draco's dad is dead but it's past tense) Possible attempted suicide.

AN: Some is slightly AU I guess but I try really hard to stay on the main story. I need criticism! This is my first fic so any help or advice you can think of please, please tell me, and try to at least be a bit gentle with the negative criticism, but do call me out on my faults. Yes I know I'm a bit too fond with the comma key, but das all right mann. Oh and also please tell me if you have any idea's for the plot and stuff since I'm having a bit of writers block, or else this chapter would be longer. I have no life so I'll probably update every other day if not every day.( as long as I have ideas)

Summary: Well basically Harry's relationship with Ginny is falling apart and he's been feeling half numb ever since the war. Draco, was already half broken from his father's beatings and unspeakable abuse over the years, but after the war everything is so much worse even with his father dead.

Harry

Harry tried to focus on what Ginny was saying, but his head ached. Why wouldn't she realize he didn't fucking careabout what the bitch in her office said to her that day. It was the same bloody thing every day. He sighed and stood walking towards the door and grabbing his coat.

"Excuse me?" She stood "I was talking to you," Ginny screeched in that disgusting self important tone of hers.

"I need some fresh air," He said simply opening the door and stepping over the threshold closing the door behind him. He didn't think about the fight that would ensue, or the fact that Ginny was going to drag everyone into this fight, not even that he could still hear her screaming at him from behind the door. Instead he walked without a destination, letting his feet take him wherever they took him.

Harry didn't know when their relationship became like this. Before the war he had been so in love with Ginny it made all the sense in the world for him to win the war, finish school and propose to her and live happily ever after. But after he won the war it was as if some part of him was missing. He felt so off, shouldn't he have been happy? He beat Voldemort, for good. Now he was as famous as ever. As the years went on he came to finish school and propose to Ginny as planned. It had only been three years since the war, but it seemed he had fallen completely out of love with Ginny. Harry tried; he tried so hard to find what had made him love her before. This relationship had to work; it was meant to be wasn't it?

Merlin please let this relationship work. Harry pleaded silently as he stared out at a lake. He wasn't sure where he was, but he didn't care. His hands clasped around a rock that had the most interesting shade of green, funny it was sitting right on top of the snow.

"Must be magic," He murmured to himself, slipping the emerald shaded chunk into his pocket. He could have just dropped it, but something made the dark haired boy keep it. Harry breathed in deeply, the clean air relaxing him.

The frozen lake, though it was really more of a pond, glittered lightly. The starch white snow dusted the ice softly. It was beautiful really, a perfect day. His neck swiveled to allow hungry eyes to take in the scene around him; white snow blanketing a large field, with only a few weeds poking out from beneath it, a single black bench on the side of the deserted road. A bus stop, maybe. Harry mused and trudged towards it, sitting.

He sighed.

"Far from home Potter?" Harry's head snapped up as a very familiar voice broke the peaceful silence.

"M-M-Malfoy?"He stuttered. This wasn't possible; no one had seen Draco Malfoy since the war.

Malfoy smirked leaning against the shelter that kept the rain and snow off the bench. "Y-Y-Yes?" He mocked and Harry pinched the bridge of his nose a tired look creeping on to his face.

" I don't know where you've come from" He began looking at the patch of ground mostly free of snow by his feet, "or where you've been hiding the past three years, but please," Harry looked up at the platinum haired man who stood before him a look on his face somewhere between shock and confusion at the other's meek demeanor, "please just let me be, I really don't need this right now," And with that, he apparated home. His now empty, cold and dark home.

Draco

Draco reached over to grab the other man's arm, stumbling when he apparated away at the same moment. What the hell was that about?

...

Draco half crawled into his apartment proud to have made it all the way up to the twelfth floor only to collapse completely and vomit all over his pristine white carpet, and himself.

"Uhg," He clawed at the carpet trying to move away from the puddle so at least he wouldn't pass out in the filth. Oh if only Father could see him now. What a disgrace to the Malfoy name. He pulled himself away from the putrid smelling heap and laughed, he laughed until his stomach hurt and he almost felt like puking again. He laughed until the laughing turned to crying and eventually he passed out. It wasn't new. In fact, it was practically routine. But this time he dreamed, and he dreamed about Potter. It was more a memory though, of that day they fought in the bathroom during sixth year.

Draco sat in a warm little café; I suppose not all things muggles do are completely bad. He thought to himself as he sipped his steaming coffee trying to nurse his hang over away.

Ever since the war Draco Malfoy had become almost a complete part of the muggle world, he worked in a small overly packed office sorting mail and fetching coffees for muggles that were considered better than him. At first it made him want to whip out his wand and perform the Cruciatus curse on every single pathetic little muggle in the office. But as time went on he came to be less and less angry at the muggles. It wasn't their fault they were incompetent. And it wasn't like he could go back to living in the wizarding world. His good name was tarnished, no not even that, The Malfoy name was scum now. Any wizard would sooner spit on him than even pay him a millionth of the respect his name once held. It made him sick. Alas there was nothing he could do about it, so he went on. Draco awoke by six and got to work by eight, coffees and bagel in hand ready to get back to sorting papers, and almost always sporting a hangover.

This was his life now. He was living paycheck to paycheck in a shabby apartment with the only upside being the beautiful white carpet which was now soiled thanks to a very drunken Draco Malfoy -though he supposed he could fix it like he did when he first moved in with a bit of magic-, and even Harry Potter the Golden Boy, wanted nothing to do with him. The Malfoy wasn't fooling himself, Potter and Draco had never been friends, but the man hadn't even thought Draco deserved even a measly snide remark. Just a tired, disgusted 'I don't need this' from the Golden Boy, more rather Golden man (AN: lawl at Golden man :D) Potter had grown, Draco couldn't get the image of Potter's blue cotton clad toned chest that peaked out of his tan coat. The shirt hugged his muscles perfectly. — Honestly! He thought angrily and shook his head. This is Potter I'm thinking about, not to mention—

Draco jumped at the familiar voice.

"—Yes a holder would be perfect please, no no keep the change I'm kind of in a hurry," Potter was standing at the counter shooting that charming smile at the woman manning the cash register as she handed him his coffee. Draco watched him as he made his way out of the store, got into a muggle car and drove away. I've come here every day for almost three years, and I've never once seen Potter. And actually come to think of it he'd never seen Harry around at all since the war. Not until yesterday.

Draco twirled his cup around Why am I so interested in him it doesn't make sense. He saved me. He almost killed me. It doesn't matter anyhow. He wants nothing to do with me. He turned his attention to a woman, she looked like she was in her mid thirties, drag her child across the road as the boy threw a fit kicking and screaming. Why does everyone want to have those things? Draco thought to himself, slightly disgusted. Not that the thought of a charming little mini Draco didn't appeal to him, just the fact that children could be so, annoying, as annoying and as much of a prat Draco himself was, he still didn't tolerate such from others. He was mostly afraid though, that he would turn out to be like his father and that scared him the most. He would never want a child to go through what he did.

He shuddered as he felt as if it was happening all over again. Hot breath on his ear, the searing pain of an all too familiar cane crashing down onto his back knocking him to the ground breathless pleading. "Please no"

Draco was ripped out of his memory by a yell and a curse behind him. He jumped up, startled knocking his chair to the ground. Everyone looked at him, including the girl that made the noise, she had an iced coffee splashed down the front of her white tank top and dripping onto her yellow and white polka dot skirt. Damnit. He cursed silently and made his way out of the café pushing an old woman in a parka out of his way. The Malfoy barely made it into the elevator of his apartment building just a block away before he started shaking and sobbing.He's dead he died two years ago. He told himself. But he couldn't and wouldn't believe it. Lucious could be hiding anywhere ready to—

The door beeped and opened, where Draco saw Harry fucking Potter, obviously, yelling and banging on the door to the apartment next to his. Merlin, I can't go near Potter like this. I won't let him see me cry again. He thought to himself. But he couldn't stop shaking, thank god for The dark haired boy's screaming and one of his neighbors blasting their radio or he'd surely be heard.

Draco shrank against the side of the elevator. Maybe Potter would leave. No, that was his apartment and he could do whatever he bloody pleased in his apartment. Potter could fuck off it it bothered him. So he grabbed his key and walked as fast as he could. Jamming the key in the lock despite his shaking. He was still panicking which Potter didn't help by being here.

Potter looked at Draco a shocked and confused look on his face. But Draco just kept trying and finally wrenched the door open, he ran inside and slammed the door locking it and sliding down to the floor.

…

AN: Okay so I know it's not great but this is my first chapter of my first fic ever. I have part of the next chapter already written and I have some ideas but I'd like to hear yours. R&R please (:

Edit: Oh my god. That was frustrating me so much mann. The bold was from when I copied and pasted the word Cruciatus because I didn't want to memorize it. It was in bold so I just erased it and memorized it. But for some reason it made everything bold anyway. I thought it was the separators. But alas it was not.

Now it is unbold and in the proper paragraphs.