Disclaimer: I do not, nor have ever owned the rights to Harry and his friends. They all belong to the magnificent J.K. Rowling. I also do not own the lyrics or melody from "Stay" by Rihanna.

A/N: Well, the boys are having some problems...this can't end well. WARNINGS: Abuse, and mentions of sex. Loosely based on "Stay" by Rihanna if you tilt your head to the side and squint a bit. Thank you in advance for reading, and I hope you enjoy! :)


It was fast. Nothing overly gentle. It was pretty standard hot, angry, revenge sex. Nothing more, nothing less. We'd been doing it for nearly nine months before something inside me changed. I became attached. Addicted. It became personal. My feelings got involved. I tried, but I couldn't stop them from coming.

Slowly, it felt less like revenge sex and more like sex used to keep a grasp on reality. I felt more every time we got together, as much as I didn't want to. I knew he started feeling something too, but I could never tell if it was a good thing. I guess it wasn't. It's late now. He left over an hour ago, and since I've been sitting here trying to muster up to courage to chase after him.

I know where he's gone. It's always the same place. It's his hunting ground. It's where he finds his new booty call. Since the war, he's changed. A lot. I used to look into those eyes and see his natural goodness and compassion. Now it's just anger. Pure, unadulterated anger. He has sex because he can be vicious about it. It allows him to obtain control for the first time in a long time. I knew the war was killing him. I mean, it took its toll on all of us. I just never noticed how much it was killing him.

His anger led to alienation, and all his friends abandoned him. Even his "best friends" couldn't stand to be around him after a few months. He tried to deal and reincorporate himself back into society, but the damage was done. He'd been out of it for too long. It broke my heart in the end. Watching him leave. I couldn't imagine someone with his power and talent giving everything up. But, he did. He turned away from the life he was born into. All the papers said the same thing.

Wizard Savior Becomes Recluse

Boy-Who-Lived Fights, Wins, and Disappears

Gryffindor Golden Boy Abandons Wizarding World

Where is Harry Potter Now?

Harry Potter: Warrior or Coward?

They all hurt. More than he let on. He didn't disappear or abandon the Wizarding World. He simply took time to mourn the loss of his close friends, classmates, and loved ones. Everyone else got to. Why was he not entitled to the same luxury? He testified for me at the trials. Vouched for me. He kept me out of prison. Me and my mother. I still don't know why. I probably never will.

"Draco!" he yelled, snapping me back to the present. "It's over now. Go home. You and your mother will be safe there. No one will bother you. I promise."

He lied. He didn't mean to, but he did. We weren't safe in my house. The Manor contained too many dark memories and experiences. It was where the Dark Lord and tortured and killed countless people, muggle and wizard alike. A month after the trials and my mother snapped. She hung herself from the rafters in my father's study.

Harry came to the funeral. He didn't have to, but he did. He apologized to me, made sure I was alright. I wasn't. I was angry and hurt and scared and alone. That's when the sex started. It was supposed to be a one-time thing. And it seemed that it would be until almost six weeks after my mother's suicide. He called me. Said he wanted to meet. I agreed. I don't know why, but I did.

He was different. Angry. Cold. Distant. He wasn't the Harry I knew. Time had changed him for the worse. It was sad. This time, it was him that needed the angry revenge sex. He never admitted it, and I'm pretty sure that if you asked him about it, he'd deny it. It doesn't matter though. Those times are over. And it's my fault. My feeling's fault.

He invited me to join him for dinner and a few drinks. I didn't realize how much of an angry drunk he was. I also didn't know he was a lightweight. You wouldn't expect it, but after two or three drinks he was completely hosed. After five he was sloppy, and any more than seven he couldn't hold down. I spent several nights at his apartment just watching him regurgitate the alcohol that had helped him forget.

The problem was when he stopped at one. He was inebriated enough to have lost his inhibitions, but not enough to forget. Those were the nights that he was extraordinarily aggressive and violent. After many of those nights, I couldn't walk properly the following day. Those were the nights I dreaded. I guess looking back, I always had the feelings. I knew I had. But, at first I could keep them under wraps. It became harder the longer I stayed with him. I didn't know what to do. I wanted to continue to be there for him, but I knew I needed to get away from him before he seriously hurt me.

It all happened in a blur. I remember bits and pieces, but it all happened so fast. I never imagined the day when he was dead sober and angry enough to hit me. Unfortunately, the war had killed any compassion he'd ever possessed. He'd become the person he'd always tried to avoid. It killed me to see him act like that. It wasn't Harry, but a monster in Harry's shell of a body.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing."

"Seriously. What's going on in that pretty little head of yours? Please, tell me."

"I think I'm falling in love with you."

"You're what?!"

"Falling in love with you. What's so horrible about that?"

"This can't have feelings. Feelings just ruin everything."

"Not always. When was the last time you tried feeling something other than anger?"

SMACK!

I reeled back in shock. As I stood there staring at him and holding my cheek, I saw his eyes flash. It scared me. I tried to run, but he caught my arm and pulled me back nearly hard enough to snap my wrist.

THUD! CRACK!

My jaw.

PLUNK! SNAP!

My ribs.

WHAM! THUD!

That was it. One last punch to my temple, and I collapsed to the ground. I laid there trying to breathe through my broken ribs and likely collapsed lung. I stayed as still as I could, pretending and wishing to be dead. He wasn't fooled, but he seemed finished for now. He grabbed my jaw and pulled my face to look at him.

"Feelings only ruin things. I tried to deal with my feelings and was mocked for it. You'd do well to learn that lesson sooner rather than later, Draco."

He spit in my face and left without another word. I was able to heal my deflated lung and reset my broken ribs and jaw. I've been sitting here just thinking since he left. Wishing he'd come back. Wanting to run after him. Hoping he doesn't come back here ever again. Finally deciding to attempt to muster the courage to follow him. After all, I know where he is and what he's likely doing.

In the end, I was just another call boy. Nothing more than a nightly shag. But, in my heart, I know that the really Harry is hiding beneath this angry façade. I just have to find him. I have to dig him out of this horrifying rut he's fallen into. Funny how he's the broken one, but it was only ever I that needed saving in the end. I guess when your judgment is as clouded as his; it's hard to tell who needs what. I can't blame him. As much as I want to, I can't. He is a product of the war just like the rest of us. Except that he was never let out of the spotlight.

Fate dragged him into this and fame refused to let him leave.

A/N: Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed! At this point, this story in complete. However, there may be additional chapters added later or sequels depending on the boys. :) Please let me know what you think and leave a suggestion for a song for the next one. Again, thank you so much for reading and have a FANTABULOUS day! :)
~DrarryLover28