[A/N: This fic is based off the 2012 French film Un Bonheur N'Arrive Jamais Seul (Happiness Never Comes Alone), which is one of my favourite films. I know I have a lot of fics up in the air at the moment, but inspiration struck as I was rewatching the film today for what must be the 10th time. It's a different sort of characterisation for both leads in this fic, which is a nice challenge. For those of you accustomed to my Dramione fics... I'll try to do my past works justice in this new one! Hope you enjoy!]

Chapter 1:

The Musician

Draco Malfoy had changed over the years. He'd dropped the pureblood beliefs indoctrinated into him from an early age, he'd withdrawn from the very polite society to which he'd once belonged, and he'd followed his father's footsteps in a way that might have surprised those not close to him. He had become a musician.

Very few people knew that, in his youth, Lucius had loved playing the piano. The number of people who had heard him play in person could be limited to one hand. What only three people knew, however, was that Lucius Malfoy was a popular pianist in the muggle world. Yes, he'd hated the muggles, and mudbloods, and their like. Yes, he was a grumpy, terrible man in the last ten years of his life. But at one point, years earlier, Lucius Malfoy had been a musician, performing in dark little bars across Paris.

A muggle poster of the elder Malfoy, the picture not moving, was framed and placed in a prominent position on his son's apartment wall. Draco still loved and worshipped his father, but not for the reasons he'd once had. He now loved his long-deceased father because Lucius had given him the gift that he adored. Music. Ability. Love. Fun.

Fifteen years had passed since the Battle of Hogwarts and the end of the Second Wizarding War. Soon after, Draco had settled into a small, lofted studio apartment in an expensive but not-so-classy part of London. Having never known he possessed any musical skill, he was surprised one day when, after being coaxed to the piano of a bar by a drunken Theo, he started pounding out a familiar tune across the keys. Seconds later, Blaise and Pansy were standing on tables beside him, dancing to the song.

I've got all my life to live
And I've got all my love to give
And I'll survive
I will survive

He'd heard the song played numerous times over the years, heard his mother dancing to it when she thought no one was looking, but until that moment, Draco Malfoy had had no idea that he was able to play the piano. It was an instinct, and once he'd unleashed it, it was unable to be repressed.

Trying to forget it had happened, reasoning that the alcohol had been remarkably strong, he ignored the night, the playing, the music, but, when looking for work in following weeks, Draco had stumbled across a position designing jingles for a big firm's advertising division. With the classic Malfoy charm and good looks, he'd won the job in the first interview.

That night, he went out with Pansy, Blaise and Theo, and they had a surprising amount of fun. He'd played once again, they drank, they laughed. They were young, and happy. Carefree. They were no longer burdened by their parents' ideals, a cause that was not their own. They were free.

And so began the next fifteen years of their lives.

The alarm was an unpleasant interruption in Draco's sleep. A late night, coupled with several tequila bottles used as a remedy to 3am jingle procrastination, had led to a deep deep sleep, and a hangover. Finally rousing the ability to move, he threw his hand in the general direction of the alarm clock, which, thankfully, extinguished its shrieks.

Two minutes later, just as he was slipping back into unconsciousness, a key turned in the lock, and his front door opened. There was a rustle of plastic shopping bags and the sniffs of a mother worrying about the health of her child. Draco didn't have to raise his head to know that his mother was cleaning the tables of old newspapers and plates, of chinese food containers and replacing each with a bowl of berries. He didn't know how she did it, how she managed to turn up every week without fail, but he loved that his mother cared so much about him, even if it felt like hell to be interrupted from sleep.

"Darling, are you still asleep? Your computer is making noises. I believe someone is calling you, shall I click 'answer'?"

Draco threw himself out of bed, quickly pulling on briefs and a t-shirt, both discarded on the floor. He grasped his aching head as he straightened, glancing quickly at the naked blonde sprawled on his bed and grinning as he ran down the stairs. He pushed in front of his mother and, ignoring her gasp at his rudeness, blocked the camera before clicking 'answer.'

"Draco?"

"Xavier!"

"You're at home? The meeting's at half ten. You have 40 minutes to get here, or the boss is going to fire you in front of our client."

"Merlin," Draco sighed, nodding, "I'll be there."

He turned, catching his mother gazing curiously at the pale pink lace bra she held in her hand. Several metres behind her back stood the blonde, naked but for two pieces of sheet music, strategically placed. She coughed and Narcissa turned, bristling as she shoved the 20-something's clothes at her and glancing at her pointedly. The girl didn't hesitate to run out, waving to Draco as she left.

Draco turned back to his desk and cleared off the papers that littered his keyboard. Five minutes later, and the jingle was done. Who even knew what the children's snack was, but it was done and he had to go. Narcissa smiled, picking up her back, "Be sure to feed yourself."

"Mmhmm," he promised, popping a strawberry into his mouth. "I'll call you later."

Narcissa tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. Once long and blonde, it was now short and greying. Her eyes were sharp, and a grimace sat on her lips, "I love you, Draco, but you're so much like your father."

He froze, one hand on his mother's shoulder, paused in the moment that he was intending to embrace her.

"So uninvolved in almost everything. He dabbled in music, he dabbled in relationships, he dabbled in fatherhood. He loved them all, I hope you know, especially being your father. It surprised me when he dedicated himself to... You-Know-Who. It wasn't like him. But he wanted safety for us, he wanted a better life. I love you, Draco, and I will support whatever you do, but be careful. This life of strange young women and barely working and drinking all night isn't going to last forever. You're 35, you need to think about the future."

Draco smiled at his mother, "I love you too, Mum. I'm fine, really. I'm happy and I do feed myself."

Narcissa grinned and slipped out the door.

He walked back into the apartment and made the mistake of glancing at a clock.

10:03AM.

"Shit!"