I am back at it again with another Drarry one-shot, this time a depressing and sad one!

WARNINGS: Some violence (during their fight), thoughts of suicide, character death, depression, suicide

This, um, I guess will be sort of dark, from what the warnings say. Sorry? Oh, and I'm not telling which character dies. It's for you to find out.

"Why don't you ever listen to me?!"

"About what, exactly? What is it you want to tell me?"

"That you need to stop!"

"Stop what?"

"Everything!"

There was silence, stormy grey eyes staring into furious emeralds. Both of them were standing in their living room of the apartment they lived in, Harry's arms crossed as Draco's hands were clenched into fists. Draco was red in the face slightly, breathing heavily, as he tried to calm himself down before he did something he regretted.

He and Harry had bonded two years after they had graduated from Hogwarts. Many of their friends hadn't supported it, saying that it was a marriage doomed from the start, or that they would just kill each other in their sleep. Draco had gotten the job as Minister of Magic a year after they had bonded and Harry taught Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts for fifth through seventh years.

They had lived a happy marriage.

Until everything began to go downhill.

Draco began to drink more, sometimes coming home smelling of beer or whiskey, slurring obscenities or just passing out. He began to get angrier a lot more, most of the anger aimed towards Harry and whoever he hung out with. He began to get possessive of Harry and wouldn't let him go out of the house unless it was for work, getting groceries, or going to get the mail from their landlord.

And after three years of this happening, Harry was sick and tired of it.

Harry took a deep breath before he began. "You need to stop this, Draco. You're ruining yourself. You're destroying yourself, mind and body. Can't you see that?"

Draco's jaw clenched. "Just because I come home drunk doesn't mean—"

"But it does!" Harry cried, throwing his hands in the air. "Draco, you could over drink and cause yourself to die! You could be driving home drunk and hit somebody, killing yourself in the act!" His eyes grew teary. "Did you know now that you hurt me when you're drunk?"

"I think I would kno—"

"No, you wouldn't! Draco, when you drink too much, you forget what happens the night before. It's also why you usually have hangovers in the morning."

"Harry, really, that can't be tr—"

"But it is!"

Slap.

Silence.

"H–Harry, you know I–I didn't mean—"

"No."

Harry's eyes were sad, horrified, and angry all at the same time. There were tear streaks down his cheeks as he held a hand to his left cheek, a bruise already blossoming there.

"Draco, I can't anymore."

"Harry, please, you can't mean that."

"I mean it." He began to back away, his hand still on his cheek. "I'm going to pack and I'm going to leave. Just let me—"

Draco's hand snatched his right wrist as he brought their faces closer together. "You can't leave me!" he hissed. "I'm your husband, your bonded, and you know what severing a bond does. Would you want that?"

Harry snatched his wrist back. "You really want an answer?"

"Yes."

"I do want that, Draco. And I'm sorry, but I can't anymore, so I terminate our bond, so mote it be."

Pain so fierce and sudden bloomed in Draco's chest, fire spreading through his body as his magic crackled and hissed at the bond being terminated. He wheezed, leaning over as he tried to control his breathing. He could hear Harry wheeze slightly before he said, "I'm packing up my stuff and leaving."

The sound of Harry's footsteps walking away haunted him as he drank himself away.

When he awoke the next morning, he realized everything that had happened last night was real.

Harry had left.

He had hurt Harry.

He broke down crying, nursing a bottle of beer in his hands.

Blaise stared at him, disgust flashing trough his eyes for a moment before it vanished.

Draco stood before him, hair dirty and greasy, huge, dark bags under his eyes. His face was gaunt and pale, and he smelled of beer and firewhiskey. "Wha' do ya wan'?" Draco slurred, leaning against the doorframe.

"Apparently Harry leaving you hasn't made you sober up yet."

Draco hiccupped. "Is tha' wha' ya're here for? H'rry?"

"Yeah, he left some things behind when he was trying to leave a few weeks ago and he asked me to come and stop by to come and get it."

"He couldn' come an' get it h'mself?"

"With you always drunk? He'd take no chance, Draco." He sighed. "Now, will you let me in so I can find it for him?"

Draco stepped to the side, stumbling and almost falling, chuckling. "Wha'd he leave b'hind?"

"His photo album that Hagrid gave him."

Draco let out a laugh. "I burned it the night he left!"

Blaise was silent, his face turning stony. "I don't know what the hell happened to you, Draco, but you disgust me."

He left the apartment, slamming the door behind him.

He nursed a bottle of beer, chugging it as he swayed on his couch, thinking.

How did his life go so wrong?

Why did he start to drink?

Why did he hit Harry?

Did Harry even love him anymore?

He hiccupped, then stared at his wrists that were covered in scars and bandages. He grabbed a quill and a piece of parchment and began to write.

The next day, Draco was found in his apartment, hanging from the ceiling fan, a small smile in his face.

Dear Harry,

By the time you get this or find me, I'll be gone.

I know we weren't happy later in our marriage, like we were in our first couple of years. I have no idea what,went wrong, why I started drinking. Maybe it was because of the stress of being the Minister, or the stress of always being the son of a Death Eater. Maybe it's because I just finally realized I couldn't take things anymore, so I did it by drinking.

I'm sorry I hurt you, I never meant to.

Know I always love you and I'm sorry for the pain and heartache I've caused you to experience.

I'll see you in the next life when you arrive.

Love,

Draco Malfoy

Sooooo.

There you go.

Depressing, ain't it?

Anyway, hoped you liked it.