Title: Drunk (When I Wake Up)

Summary: Harry Potter has a problem. Draco doesn't care, it's not his problem.. Except he does, and it is.

Rating: M

Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns these beautiful beings, I merely own the plot.

A/N : This fic was inspired by Ed Sheeran's song 'Drunk', more the later chapters though. It starts a bit slowly.. but give it a chance to heat up, it definitely will! I'm aiming to update at least once a week, if not more. Enjoy and review!


The war had been over for six months. Six long months of trials, of waiting, hoping against all hope that he would be okay, that his family would be okay, well, his mother at least. Finally, there had been more waiting. Shuffling between his Azkaban cell and the courtroom, and back again. And now he was free. Free. Draco Malfoy stood in Diagon Alley with his mother by his side and his eyes shut, feeling the wind gently pulling at his blonde hair, which now fell past his chin. It had been six months since he had felt the wind in his hair. Had it always felt this good, he wondered, this carefree? He wanted to dance into the tiny raindrops that were starting to fall around them, wanted to tear off all his clothes and just feel all the elements on his bare skin. Even the pale sunlight struggling through gaps in the clouds seemed like a miracle, he'd almost forgotten what the sun looked like. But he just stood there, concentrating on keeping his composure. He was a Malfoy after all.

"Draco?" His mother's voice was soft, gentle and reminiscent of the tones he remembered from childhood. He turned to face her, a ghost of a smile on her lovely face. Her too thin, too pale, too weary, but lovely nonetheless face. The first real smile Draco had seen from her since his fifth year at Hogwarts. He smiled back, the expression feeling unfamiliar, too tight, on his own features after so much time spent with nothing to smile about and she put her hand on his arm, drawing him closer to her.

"Let's go home, son."

Draco leaned into her, breathing in her smell of musky vanilla and peach, and they disapparated with a sharp crack, leaving the street empty save the pages of yesterday's Prophet blowing lazily up against the shop fronts. The front page covered in a photograph captured the moment that Harry Potter, current saviour of the wizarding world, had stood up to testify on behalf of Draco Malfoy, former –alleged- death eater. The photo showed the utter shock clearly etched on Draco's face giving way to disbelief as he swung around to face the Wizengamot in bewilderment and tried to duck out of the frame of the photograph. Harry Potter looked drawn and nervous, though his face was a picture of open virtuousness, practically radiating honesty.

They had no idea that this moment, now forever preserved in their memories had been witnessed by another; who nodded once in satisfaction and then too, apparated from the scene.