A/N – Omigod, first het fic! I'm so proud of myself. =3 I was surprised at how easily this was to write – the word just kind-of flowed, y'know? Warning: contains drinking and self-harm/cutting (Draco's very angsty in this).
She was always there.
At every Quidditch match, cheering wildly, devotedly from the green-swathed stands. It didn't matter that he almost never caught the snitch or that, whenever he did, it was almost always because of an underhand sleight directed toward the opposing Seeker. She cheered unfailingly, because, as she claimed, "she loved him." But what mattered most to him was that she was always there.
She was always there.
Whenever his Arithmancy formulas yielded the wrong answers, whenever his Transfiguration homework just didn't make sense – she would always help him, patiently giving him advice when she knew the subject matter and finding him useful books to help in her stead when she didn't. She was the reason he passed all of his classes sixth year. When he asked her why she bothered to help him, she would flash a smile and mention how someone had to keep his future in mind… and, as she assured him, it was no problem, really. He was grateful for the grades, but what mattered most to him was that she was always there.
She was always there.
When the alcohol proved to be too much of a temptation, when the firewhisky slurred his speech and made walking as impossible as pleasing his parents, she would half support him, half carry him back to the dorm. She'd make him drink two glasses of water before he passed out, ensuring that he would stay hydrated. And when the morning came, with its cruel headaches and ceaseless vomiting, she would kneel by his side, rubbing his back as he threw up again and again. And once that ordeal was over, she would cradle him in her lap, never complaining about the acrid smell, until he dropped back off to sleep. He was thankful for her nursing, but what mattered most to him was that she was always there.
She was always there.
When life seemed unbearable and the gray sky refused to shine blue – when he sat in the bathroom, razor in hand, and slashed at his arm's pale skin once, twice, forty times in as many minutes, sliding to the tiled floor now stained a sinister red, convulsing and shaking because the tears refused to come… she would always find him. She would cry the tears he couldn't shed, cleaning his cuts with a damp, warm towel. And when his arm was all bandaged up, white cloth against white skin, she would pull him into a heartbroken hug, and let him sob out all life's pain onto her shoulder. He was indebted to her kindness, but what mattered most to him was that she was always there.
She was always there.
This was what he realized one dark November night, his tear-stained face buried in her sweatshirt once more. That is why, exactly one month later, he took her out to dinner, in his best tuxedo, and, kneeling down, offered her a ring. That is why, the next December, he looked deep into her chocolate eyes and said "I do."
She was the only one he trusted to carry his children. She was the only one he loved. And with her, he finally started to heal.
She was always there. And she always would be.
A/N – All reviews are appreciated! Thank you for reading!
