Written for Ranchan's fanfiction competition on the aarinfantasy forum.

Title: Forgotten

Author: Dragonkat

Pairing: Harry/Draco

Rating: 18+

Disclaimer: Do I look like a brilliant writer with stacks of money sitting behind me. Nope, not at all. So suffice to day the genius world of Harry Potter doesn't belong to me.

Summary: Outcasts meet one night in the darkest of bars. Once enemies, they now only have each other to depend on in this changed world.

WC: 4,536

He sat at the bar, swirling the amber liquid in the glass he held loosely between his thumb and forefinger. He brought the glass to his lips, tossing back the rest of the scotch, along with tossing away the last of his Galleons. He swallowed slowly, closing his eyes as the heat and burn of the liquor slowly migrated down his throat.

His glazed, dim hazel eyes opened to stare at his haggard reflection in the mirror over the bar. A pale hand came to his face, and he traced the light trail of stubble over his cheeks and throat, dirty blond hair dangling in ragged layers over his shoulders.

He heard a hushed whisper down the bar from where he sat in the furthest corner, and his eyes lazy turned in the direction of two older men, glancing at him occasionally and whispering to one another over their mugs of beer.

"Isn't that…?"

"Yeah man. I heard tell that after the war, no one trusted him and the ministry took everything he had."

"Everything?"

"Yeah…everything."

"I heard that even though he fought on the good side he still managed to kill more wizards than anyone else…tortured some too."

"Yeah? Well looks like he ain't doing so well…should we offer him a drink."

"No way man. Don't waste your Galleons on a slob like him…he won't leave us alone if we give him some charity."

"Yeah you're right."

He just sat there, letting their whispers wash over him like the smoke from other patron's cigarettes. He was quiet, not refuting their words, because they were mostly true. He was still as stone in is chair, tracing the ring of water left from the condensation on his glass with one of his dirty fingers, making random patterns, staying for as long as he could in the establishment before they kicked him out.

The door opened, letting a rush of cold air from the winter blizzard raging outside in, many of the patrons of the establishment yelling out obscenities at the new comer. He glanced over, watching as a man, looking no better then he did, come shuffling to the bar, sitting between him and the two men who had been whispering rumors about him. The newcomer kept the hood of his cloak up, shielding his face from the dim light of the room.

He watched as the other man reached a calloused dirty hand into a pocket beneath his ragged cloak. The man pulled out a single Galleon and slipped it across the smooth cherry wood of the bar. "Firewhiskey," the cloaked man rasped, and he felt his eyes widened a bit as he recognized the voice.

"Potter," he whispered.

The man's head whipped around, hood on his cloak falling back a bit so he had a better view of the other. It was…it was Harry Potter.

"Malfoy," Harry said softly.

The two, once rivals, stared at one another then Harry slipped off his chair and came to sit on a stool next to Draco's, setting his elbows on the countertop and looking at him with tired green eyes.

"Fancy meeting you here…it's been what, ten years since we last saw one another," Harry said nodding in thanks as the bartender brought him his drink, walking away with Harry's Galleon in his hand.

"Yeah," Draco said simply, looking at the once Gryffindor. "You look like shite."

Harry chuckled humorously. "This world hasn't been treating me well," he whispered, sipping at his Firewhiskey, glancing at Draco out of the corner of his eye. "You're not looking that good either."

Draco grinned warily, probably the first semi-smile he had cracked in weeks, nodding in agreement of the other's words. "This world isn't what I expected," he said tonelessly, going back to tracing the water rings on the counter top.

They sat in silence for a long time, a companionable silence that reminded them of their days back in the war, when they fought side by side on secret missions to take out different factions of Voldemort's army. Draco's mind wandered back to the simpler times of years ago.

They may have been in the middle of a war, but for Draco, those had been some of the best years of his life.

In the summer before his sixth year his father tried to have him take the Dark Mark…but he refused. It was his first and only outright defiance of his father. He wasn't going to be some minion for some maniac who was on the road to destroying them all, especially when he was the kind of person who was going to pave the path of his life on his own, with no one telling him what to do.

That had landed him in Saint Mugos for nearly a month from the damage his angry father did before he was kicked to the curb, with only his wand for company. No money, none of his things, and certainly no way to survive on his own.

He was found by Dumbledore and Harry before the school year started. Draco had agreed to fight with them, and he was given a home and hope for a new life.

He returned to school, and found Slytherin divided, those following their parents to the dark side and those who rebelled, following Draco's example. His group was the minority in the house, but with the support of the Headmaster and Potter and his lackeys, Draco never got any trouble for the rest of his time at Hogwarts.

Draco was summoned one day late in the year, around Halloween and was asked to train along side Harry. Dumbledore had said their techniques in duels and in classes complimented one another so they would make a fine pair in this war.

That wasn't the only kind of good pair they made either.

They had trained for many hours and days together, and Draco realized he had made his first real friend. There were times they talked, times they just sat silently, and there were times they fooled around like teenage boys were prone to.

Draco realized he and Harry had both missed out on what it was like to be a kid because they both had had oppressive guardians. They got close, very close. So close to the point their friends started taking notice. And when teenagers were suspicious or hurt by being ignored, they lashed out.

Soon they were subject to rumors of their sexuality and the nature of their relationship.

They hadn't actually taken that step in their relationship, to a more intimate side of it, so the rumors were hurtful. Harry took it the hardest, hating being scrutinized and looked at so closely. Draco took it better, because he believed most of the rumors were true. He and Harry were very close, and Draco wouldn't hesitate to take that next step with him, it almost seemed natural that they would, because of how well they fit together.

But Harry seemed to disagree. After a month of being ridiculed and hurt by his classmates, the Boy Who Lived began to pull away from Draco. He hadn't noticed at first, that Harry was cutting the time they spent tighter down, or that he flinched when Draco placed a companionable hand on his shoulder. But he did eventually catch on to the way Harry began to treat him.

Fearing he might lose his first real friend Draco had confronted Harry after one of their training sessions. They had been sweaty and tired, and it probably wasn't the best time to talk about the situation, but with the way Harry was now avoiding him it was his only option to get his friend alone. He had held on to his shoulder, actually pleading for him to stay behind so they could talk. Harry had relented, maybe at his distraught face, or maybe because he wanted to talk as well.

Draco had sat Harry down, and told him bluntly that they shouldn't let what others say destroy the friendship they had, and so what if people said they were lovers, it wasn't such a stretch to say so, because Draco was ready to take that step with Harry.

But that had been the wrong thing to say to a boy who was so torn and confused inside. Harry already had to deal with being a hero who was supposed to save the world; he couldn't deal with his sexual orientation on top of that. Harry had lashed out at Draco then, confusion driving his anger, saying hurtful things to Draco that the once Slytherin didn't like remembering. And because he had been rejected for the first time by someone he truly cared about he lashed back, and retaliated with equally hurtful words.

That argument was such that it had nearly destroyed them, and they hadn't talked for nearly six months.

They were forced to speak again just before their Seventh Year, because Dumbledore was pulling them out of school and needed them to work together to defeat the Dark Lord. Harry had been distant and Draco made no move to reconcile their past friendship. They were both at fault, but Harry was the one who lashed out first, so Draco figured he had to apologize and make the first move. And until he did Draco was a stone, unfeeling and unmoving.

After weeks of sneaking around undercover, gathering intelligence and taking out different factions of the Dark Army, Harry finally made his move…and it was not what Draco had expected.

They were spending the night in a rundown shack several miles from where they had taken out twenty men planning to attack a small muggle village. Draco was building a fire, and laying out their sleeping bags close to the meager warmth when arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him against his taller and stronger companion.

Draco had frozen, stiff in his arms, unsure of what his intentions were. They hadn't actually touched since they were reunited a short while ago and had barely exchanged words except for when it was necessary for their missions.

They had stood before the fire, Harry's arms snug around his torso, Draco's own just hanging limply at his sides as he tried to decide what to do. Then Harry's hands had trailed down his torso, hesitantly touching his body through his clothes and Draco's eyes had widened when warm chapped lips brushed against his skin.

He barely dared to breathe, confused and overwhelmed at this utterly unexpected response from the boy who had rejected him for having feelings about doing activities such as these. His shell-shocked body was lowered to one of the sleeping bags, so he was on his back looking up at Harry who stared down at him with green eyes so intense and focused he had to look away, staring into the fire.

Hot breath had tickled his ear as Harry whispered into his ear…saying he didn't want to die a virgin, and the only person he wanted to give his virginity to, was Draco.

They were the first words spoken to him in so long from Harry that had been gentle, sincere and without a biting edge, and Draco gave in then, laying his body out for Harry, forgetting about the silence of rejection and the shouting of the fight. He forgot it all, going back to the time when they were inseparable...and when he loved Harry Potter.

Draco never found out what changed Harry's mind. Maybe the battle where they had killed those twenty men, and barely escaped unscathed themselves. Maybe the pressure of saving the world. Or maybe the fear of Voldemort winning. Whatever the reason Draco didn't care, he just focused on the feelings their inexperienced touches invoked, the two of them fucking in front of the fire, with an intensity and rawness that left Draco in overwhelmed tears in the end, holding Harry's heaving body to his own, stroking his dark unruly hair and hoping for the night to never end.

They never spoke of that night, they never had the chance. Soon after that was the final battle, the one to decide it all. And they had won…at a very high price.

Britain was in absolute ruins, the battles of the war leaving no place unscratched and undamaged. Many souls had been lost, families left without mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, daughters and sons. And it seemed the relief of Voldemort being defeated could not withstand the utter sorrow over everything that had been lost.

Harry and Draco had gone into this fight with no family and very few friends, so they could not empathize with the anguish many were feeling.

And then the accusations came as they tried to rebuild their broken society. As the two main fighters for the side of the light they had been targeted, and blamed for the destruction of their civilization.

The ministry had seized all of the Malfoy estate, which should have transferred to Draco because his father had been killed. So he was left poor and homeless, because the government didn't trust him, even though he had basically saved them from chaos.

Harry was the next target, the Boy Who Saved Them and Left Them With Nothing, gave everything he had, his money and property to the people to try and help. But these people were unforgiving, and nothing he or Draco did could change their minds about them.

Draco lost track of Harry then, they got separated in the mayhem. Draco stayed in London, as he didn't know were else to go and he couldn't quite bring himself to leave Britain entirely. He tried to get jobs, even the lowest of the low, but no one would hire him because of the black mark their civilization had cast on him.

For ten years he lived off what he could find and get, homeless, a blemish on society, hoping for a better day…but it never seemed to come. By the time he made it to this bar on this very night, he was ready to toss away the last of his Galleons…and toss away his life with it, planning to find the highest bridge and end it all.

That was until Harry walked back into his life.

He blinked in bewilderment as another glass of Firewhiskey was slid in front of him, he glanced up in confusion at the bartender before Draco turned to Harry, seeing the man slide another Galleon to the bartender. "You looked like you could use it," Harry said simply, smiling at him softly.

Draco reluctantly felt himself smiling back, grabbing the glass and raising it in a mock cheers before downing the bitter liquid, sighing as it slid deliciously down his throat. He placed the glass down, making a new ring of water on the countertop. "Thank you," he whispered.

"Do you have a place to stay tonight," Harry asked him, still sipping on his glass.

"No," Draco said.

Harry nodded as if he already knew that, he finished off the last of his drink in one gulp, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. He reached out a hand, pulling Draco from his seat. "I know a place, it's not much, but it'll do until I have enough money to leave," Harry said, pulling his cloak tight around his body, Draco following suit.

"What do you mean 'leave,' " he asked, having to raise his voice to be heard over the roaring wind of the storm as they left the warmth of the bar.

"I've been saving up to leave England. I haven't been able to get my life on track after the war, and I finally decided I needed to leave. I'm taking a train to Italy," Harry shouted back, pulling Draco close to his larger body with an arm around his shoulders so they wouldn't get separated.

Draco was silent at the statement, just following close to Harry as they wove through the alleyways of London, feeling warmth spread through him because of the close proximity of the man he still loved.

They walked for about twenty minutes, stopping occasionally when the storm got too thick for them to move. Harry led them to a run down apartment complex…that actually looked abandoned. Draco wrinkled his nose when they entered the rotting building, covering his nose from the overwhelming smell of piss and decay. "You get used to it," Harry mumbled, dragging him down a couple hallways before he kicked open a door. "Well this is it. The place is going to be torn down next month, but that's long enough for me to stay as I save up."

Draco raised an eyebrow at Harry, but entered the room, looking around and seeing only a beat up mattress, a tiny space heater and a few empty bottles of whiskey. He walked in, taking a seat on the bed. "So you're leaving," he asked quietly, looking around the tiny room…it was better than what he was used to these past years.

Harry looked at him for a while before he went to the heater, turning it on. He removed his cloak, revealing equally ragged jeans and jumper, scruffy boots on his feet. Draco removed his own cloak, laying it down on the bed, his own pants full of holes and jumper two sizes too big for him. Harry came and knelt down in front of Draco, looking at him with soft green eyes, reaching out and grabbing his slimmer hands with his own.

"Can I ask you something," Draco finally said, looking down at their clasped hands, stroking his fingertips over the backs of Harry's hands.

"Sure," Harry said, the walls creaking around them under the stress of the howling winds.

"What made you change your mind that night," it wasn't quite what he wanted to ask, but it was all he could think of at the moment.

Harry looked at him, of course knowing which night Draco was talking about. He looked down, tracing a finger over a long ragged scar on the back of Draco's hand that traced up the side of his forearm, a gift from his late father. "I was stupid to reject you back in school. I was just denying what I felt…because I was scared of it. By that time in the war…I had been through so much, lived through so many horrors…that I wasn't afraid of such simple things like my feelings. So I gave in…it was the easiest and best decision of my life," he paused and looked at Draco straight in the eye. "My only regret is that I didn't make a move sooner."

Draco looked at Harry with relief on his face, glad it wasn't just a spur of the moment thing that lead Harry to take him that night. He smiled and squeezed Harry's hands. "Good," he whispered.

They sat together for a while, and then Harry moved, leaning in and quickly kissing Draco, pulling away with a blush. The blond looked at him in shock for just a moment, before he leaned forward, bringing their lips together again, this time in a much longer and sweeter kiss. Their breaths mingled between their kissing lips, the smell of alcohol almost overwhelming Draco enough to stop…almost.

He wrapped his arms around Harry's shoulders, leaning back and bringing them down so they both lay on the bed together. He stroked his hands down Harry's back, gripping the bottom of his shirt and pulled it up, bunching the fabric up beneath Harry's arms so he could touch his bare skin. Harry's hand snaked down, slipping beneath his own shirt, shimming up to pinch at one of his nipples. Draco whimpered quietly, hands pressing into Harry's back, mouth opening, letting their tongues twine together.

Harry's hips fitted between his legs, rutting against him, bringing their awakening erections into contact, rubbing roughly together against the ragged fabric of their breeches. Draco's nails scraped down Harry's back, causing the man above him to shudder at the painful pleasure. Draco arched his back into Harry a heart beat later as he roughly pinched his nipples, pulling at them, then rubbing them, causing them to burn pleasantly at the attention.

Their kiss broke, a thin line of saliva keeping them connected until it snapped as Harry pulled away. He took off his jumper, going for his pants and undoing them. Draco followed suit, sitting up and tearing off his shirt, laying back down and kicking off his boots as he undid his pants, shaking them down his lifted hips along with his briefs. Harry grabbed the clothing and dragged them off Draco's legs, already naked himself.

Draco reach up a hand, tracing over the older body, remembering and learning Harry's new physique, tracing his thin muscles and protruding ribs, feeling his taunt, slightly sunken stomach. Draco knew he didn't look any better…but at the same time the body in front of him was beautiful…because it belonged to the man he loved…and to the man who had lived through the same depravity he had.

Harry's hands came to trace his body, and they lay down side by side, spending moments on end just touching one another, discovering what pleasure they could bring their companion. Draco eventually pulled away, kissing Harry softly then slipping his fingers into his mouth, sucking on them and wetting them, spreading his legs and reaching down to prepare himself.

Harry's eyes followed the movement of his hand, reaching his own hand down to lightly touch himself. And for a time they only watched one another, touching themselves intimately. Draco shifted and flinched as he stretched himself, since it had been years since he did something like this…but he wanted to do this so bad that that outweighed the pain. His eyes watched Harry's hand on his cock, watching as he spread his own pre-come over his erection, coating the hot skin with the liquid. He groaned quietly, wiggling his fingers around, trying to prepare himself as quickly as possible.

When he could stand it no longer he pulled his fingers out of his body, hissing quietly at the feeling of emptiness. He shoved at Harry, rolling the bigger man onto his back and climbing on top of him, straddling his waist. Draco grabbed Harry's cock, biting his lip and lowering himself down eagerly. Harry's hands came to his waist and he locked eyes with the man, groaning at the lust and affection filling those now vivid green eyes.

Harry looked so alive.

Draco threw his head back as he was breached, moaning loudly as he swallowed the mushroom head of Harry's erection, wiggling his hips as he adjusted, lowering himself down bit by bit, pushing aside the pain, knowing the pleasure was going to come soon enough.

They trembled together when his ass was settled on Harry's lap, their pubic hair mingling as he rocked back and forth, feeling himself slowly adjust to the large cock filling him so deliciously. He looked back at Harry, placing his hands on his chest, slowly lifting up and lowering back down, watching as Harry's eyes rolled into his head at the feeling of Draco's internal muscles gripping and hugging his cock so tight.

Their pace was slow and sweet, in no rush for the end, just absorbing the pleasure of being together again after so many years. Harry sat up, hugging Draco to his chest as their hips gently rocked against one another.

Draco didn't know how much time had passed, but he didn't care. He ignored the burning of his thighs from moving for so long and the sweat adding to the foul scent in the air. All he focused on was Harry's bright green eyes and the pleasure of his cock stroking his prostate, feeling his orgasm pool sweet and hot in his belly.

He came first, body shuddering softly in Harry's arms, his head leaning down to lean on Harry's shoulder, panting against his sweaty skin, kissing his throat as his body trembled as his orgasm passed. Then Harry came, going taunt against him. Draco groaned quietly as warmth filled him, holding Harry tighter as the man relaxed, muscles twitching in pleasure.

After several minutes of the lovers trapped in their post coital embrace Draco pulled away, whimpering as Harry's cock slipped from his body. He lay down, curling on his side as sweet exhaustion over came him. Draco watched as Harry dug through his cloak, producing his wand, whispering an incantation to clean them both up. The man's hand stroked at his hair as Harry laid down, smiling and staring at him so softly Draco almost felt himself cry. He curled close, sighing in appreciation as Harry dragged both of their cloaks over their cooling bodies even as they twined their legs and arms, sharing body heat on this cold stormy night.

His fingers traced lazily over Harry's biceps, nuzzling his chest with his face, never wanting to leave the other's embrace.

"Will you come with me," Harry asked, breaking the silence they had been in. Draco's eyes fluttered open, as he had almost fallen asleep and he lifted his head a bit, looking up at Harry.

"Where," he asked tiredly.

"To Italy," Harry answered, smiling and touching Draco's cheek with one of his hands.

"But you only have enough money for yourself…I don't want to hold you back."

"Actually I have enough for both of us."

"Huh?"

"Well…you see…when I got the idea in my head to leave…I knew I didn't want to leave alone…and there's no one I'd rather spend my life with than you Draco."

"Harry…"

"So I've been saving up for two. It took a while longer but I did it…and then I had to find you. I was lucky because I ran into Blaise Zabini who said he had seen you in a bar recently…and so I went there…and I found you."

Draco felt his heart swell with love and tiny tears fill his eyes in happiness. He just nodded, laughing quietly and hugging Harry tight, rubbing his face against his chest in joy. Harry's arms tightened around him and the top of his head was kissed.

"We'll start a new life Draco…with no one judging us…no one looking down on us…we'll be new men."

It was a beautiful scenario that Harry painted. For the rest of the night Harry whispered to him about their new life in Italy. What they would do, how they would live, and where they would go in the rest of their lives. Draco actually cried as he drifted off to the picture Harry drew for him, for the first time in ten years feeling hope well up inside of him.

He was so glad he hadn't been forgotten by everyone in the world. He was so happy that someone remembered him…and had sought him out.

He and Harry were going to start a new life together…and they will never be ignored and taken advantage of by a vengeful society.

No longer will they be forgotten by the world, because they had each other and the hope of a new beginning.

The beginning they should have had after they sacrificed everything to build a better world.

Review, review, review please.

Sadly this will probably be my last HP fic unless I write more for contests. I will honestly admit that this is not my favorite fandom to write for, even though it is fun. Maybe some day I'll write a full story in this fandom but for now my attentions lie elsewhere.

TTFN