'I see you haven't signed the divorce papers,' Hermione said as she looked down at him, a hand on her hip and a scowl on her face.

The papers sat on the floor next to the window where they'd fallen after he'd opened the package. He'd spend a lot of time with them. He glared at them. Got drunk and cursed at them. Threw things at them—his aim had gotten bad with lack of use—but not touched them, and certainly hadn't read or signed them.

'You're being ridiculous,' Hermione said, looking at Ron for support who just shook his head and gave a small shrug. 'Look at you! You're a mess. Just go tell him the truth.'

Harry couldn't deny any of it; he was a mess. The room around him attested to it. He hardly left his flat, and when he did, he wasn't very productive. Luckily being a new Auror wasn't as much of a challenge for Harry as the training had been.

'What am I supposed to say, Hermione? I lied to win the bet?' Harry collapsed back against his mattress. 'It doesn't matter anyway; he doesn't love me. It won't change anything!'

Ron looked away and rolled his eyes.

'Oh, you have a better idea, Ron? You called Hermione a tramp for going on a date with Krum—you think that'll work with Draco?'

'Hey,' Hermione said, her voice catching, 'don't take this out on us! We were teenagers then and … and this isn't the same at all. We didn't do this, Harry. We're just trying to help, and letting you sit and drink yourself to death is hardly helpful.

Feeling like a shit, Harry sat up again. 'I'm sorry—I'm just tired and have a headache.'

'I do have a better idea,' Ron said, 'better than telling him the truth even. You should have told him the truth before, but now it's a bit too late and more likely to set him off then have him falling into your arms.'

'And?' Harry looked at Ron expectantly.

'Ask him out. Try to win him over. If you must make it all weird like the two of you, seem to be unable to function near each other without doing, having the divorce papers be your bargaining chip. Say you'll only sign them if he agrees to go on a date with you.'

Hermione was smiling at Ron, but Harry just groaned and fell back again.

'Either way, mate. You have to get up. Our engagement party is tonight and since you've been such a shit friend recently. I'm not about to forgive you if you miss it or show up drunk.'

Harry snorted—it was the closest he'd come to laughing since he'd left home.

'That's tonight? Isn't that a little fast? You just asked her to marry you—'

'Harry,' Hermione said, sharing a look with Ron, which they both turned back to Harry. 'I seem to recall yours being much more, shall we say, sudden.'

He really couldn't argue with that.

#

Harry was surprised to see Ginny at the Burrow for Ron and Hermione's engagement party, and of course, he shouldn't have been surprised to see her there. It was the off season; this was her family.

Ginny smiled when she saw him and kissed his cheek. 'So I hear you won the bet?'

Harry swallowed to stop his throat from closing up. He didn't need to cry in front of her. That would just make everything worse.

So instead he nodded and asked, 'Where's Mark?'

'Oh,' Ginny said with a laugh as they made their way to the kitchen. 'We broke up.'

'But you were engaged? You were so happy?' It has seemed they were so happy, but that had been at the beginning of their relationship. They'd hardly known each other.

'Were we?' She gave Harry an amused smile as they entered the kitchen.

Mrs Weasley stopped cooking to give Harry a hug and then was gone again, busy as always. Charlie and Bill nodded to Harry and hugged Ginny while she was on her way passed them to get Harry and her each a beer.

After the greetings were out of the way, and they'd both had a drink, Ginny picked back up the conversation they'd been having. 'Mark and my relationship caused too much tension, and we rushed into too quickly trying to prove the world wrong about us. I feel much more like myself since we've broken up actually.'

Harry hadn't paid too much attention to what all had been said about them. He'd tried to avoid the rumours as much as possible.

'Sounds a lot like our relationship,' Harry said. 'You were never allowed to be just you around me either.'

'I was always myself around you, Harry.' Ginny squeezed his arm.

Harry coughed, then taking a drink changed the subject. 'You're an official starter for the Holyhead Harpies, so the newspaper tells me.'

Ginny nodded and smiled. 'Everyone always thought you'd be the one to go pro. Are you enjoying being an Auror?'

'It's alright. Apparently, the war wasn't proof enough to put me on any real cases, but I kind of like that. Everyone has to go through the grunt work before they get to be part of the more interesting cases, and it makes me a tad bit less interesting to the newspapers.'

They were quiet for the moment, and suddenly Harry realised that they were very much alone. Mrs Weasley had been in the kitchen just a minute before, hadn't she?

'So,' Ginny said, moving closer. 'You're single. I'm single, and I hear you have a flat sans any nosy family members to pop in on you.'

'I'm still married.' Harry showed her his hand still wearing his ring as if that proved he hadn't signed the papers yet. Either way, it showed he wasn't ready to move on.

But she laughed, moving in closer still. 'I was just suggesting a night of fun, Harry, not that we get married. A night we both have been waiting a long time for.'

'I'm not a virgin anymore.'

This only caused her to laugh harder. 'I haven't been a virgin since I was fifteen; I meant us.'

Harry was quiet as the implications of what he'd just said caught up to both of them, and her face lost all it's humour.

'He was your first?' Ginny searched his face and then brushed the discomfort out of the air. 'Doesn't matter—I'd still be your first woman.'

'Got that, too,' Harry said, smiling at the memory.

'Right, what was it he called her? Daisy, yes. Look, Harry. I might never understand this thing you have with Malfoy, but I don't need to. The past is the past, and it's over, yes? We're still young and have plenty of time. I'm just suggesting we finish what we started. It doesn't have to lead somewhere.'

'I like things that lead somewhere, Ginny.' Harry finished off his beer stepped away from her toward the kitchen door. 'We're back at the same wall: we want different things. Except, this time, it's not you that I don't want it to be over with anymore.'

#

Ron had been working the night shift when Incendio's owner called the Aurors in have them get Draco. Then partly as a favour to Harry, and partly because his partner for the night groaned and said, 'We aren't bloody Medi-Wizards nor are we the Night Bus!' Ron called Harry to deal with it.

'Wear your robes,' Ron had said, 'and I'll meet you there. We don't have to write a report up, the owner isn't pushing anything, he just doesn't want to get charged and all. But, just in case, someone on duty should be there.'

Not that it being Ron wouldn't have been looked at as any less calling in a favour than Harry going alone if anyone had known about Harry and Draco's past relationship. But they didn't, so at most it'd look like Ron simply not wanting to go alone and Ron's partner being lazy.

As first years out of training, they got the grunt work. Harry let go of the day shift after he'd let go of Draco, giving it to someone who had someone to go home to. Which left him with weekends, night shifts and drunkards, so Harry knew Jim from the times he'd called the Aurors before. He didn't want any trouble and would call family and friends before the Aurors if he knew their Floo address. Only he'd never had cause to know Harry's. He wasn't known as Draco's family, and it changed a few months ago. Only Ron and Hermione knew it. They called him but rarely came by his flat. Harry hadn't had a reason to invite anyone over, and could be found either at work or at theirs if he wasn't asleep or wanting to be left alone.

Harry was quick to change and Apparated outside the club where Ron was waiting for him.

Ron grimaced when he saw Harry, and Harry could tell he was trying to gauge how Harry was taking this, but Harry let nothing show in his expression. They both knew Harry was hurting, that he was angry at Draco for being there, and would find a way to make himself numb to it all before the night was over.

'Let's get this over with.' Harry lead the way, and the crowd parted for them. People were dancing and close to fucking everywhere—on the sofas, against the walls, and on the disgusting floor—but Harry didn't look at any of them. He could only imagine the horrified look on Ron's face.

Jim made eye contact with Harry and then nodded over to a far corner.

As Harry approached, he saw that no one had attempted to pick Draco up off the floor, and although he wasn't completely out, he wasn't there enough to know what was going on around him. Jim probably didn't want to be accused of anything by touching him in the state he was in.

Draco could be dramatic sometimes.

Draco was half-naked, and Harry had no idea where his robes were. So Harry unclasped his cloak and wrapped it around Draco as he got him to his feet. He was unsteady, but he could stand. He wouldn't be able to walk very far, though.

Looking back towards the bar, he saw Ron talking with Jim and then he looked at Harry and nodded him on. At that Harry Apparated Draco to outside Draco's flat.

They never sold the house, but neither of them took it either.

Harry packed his things that night after Draco left and went to stay with Ron and Hermione before he found a place to stay. It didn't take long as he didn't have much, and he didn't give a fuck where he stayed.

It had been a while, and Harry had only been there once, but he landed just outside his door. Draco had no idea that Harry had ever even seen the place. Harry had just wanted to check up on him. Hermione called it concern; Ron called it stalking.

Draco made a sound as though he was close to throwing up. Harry was glad they could avoid the lobby. Even if most of his neighbors were was asleep, he didn't want to risk running into anyone. He wondered how often Draco stumbled through it in close to the same state he was in then.

Taking a deep breath, Harry pulled his keys out of Draco pocket and found the one to his flat. He helped Draco through the door and to the nearest toilet.

Draco was beside the toilet vomiting within seconds. After a few minutes he seemed to be falling asleep, so Harry pulled him up again but wasn't sure where to take him. Glancing in the guest bedroom, Harry saw the bed was unmade with the sheets and blanket tangled on top of it. He probably slept there as it was closer to where he obviously vomited all over himself every night, but the sheets needed to be cleaned.

Everything in the flat needed to be cleaned.

The flat was set up perfectly for roommates. Both bedrooms had a bathroom, but one bathroom had a door to the living room as well as to the bedroom. Upon entering the bathroom off the living room, Harry could tell Draco was using it often. There was old puke dried to the side of the tub. He must come in there at night, and then use the other one when he was sober in the day time. Draco hated things being a mess.

It was one of the few things they used to fight about: Harry not cleaning up after himself.

He led Draco back to the living room and laid him on the sofa instead.

Curious, Harry peeked in the other bedroom. His breath caught at the sight of one of his jumper laying on the bed. He must have forgotten it when he'd packed. Maybe it'd been in the laundry. When Harry had thrown opened his trunk and shoved all of his clothes in it, he'd been in a haze.

Harry never had many things. He didn't have nick nacks. Just his clothing, his school books, and his pictures. His schoolbooks were already in the trunk as he didn't look at them often. So after his clothes were in the trunk, Harry grabbed the two photo albums that had pictures of his friends and his parents, added them to the trunk and closed the lid.

You can keep the rest Harry had scrawled on a note and left for Draco to find on the shelf with the rest of their pictures and books.

Harry went into the room, picked up the jumper, and turning around saw that Draco had disassembled the rest of their photo albums, and the pictures covered the bedroom wall.

From their wedding, of course, but there were more than that. More than Harry even remembered. Neither Harry or Draco took pictures themselves, but as their relationship was meant to stay a secret every picture of Draco at Weasley gathering came their way by owl. Draco had taken care of them.

Seeing it all layout on the wall, Harry was startled to see how many there were. There was a picture from last Christmas at the Manor—not their horrible first one. Where Harry was staring at Draco as Draco helped open his sisters' gifts.

What Harry had meant was everything else—the furniture, the sheets, the house itself—but he could see how Draco might have thought he meant the pictures. There were only a few pictures of Draco in his albums. All from fifth or sixth year. All Harry got from Colin during their sixth year when Harry was trying to figure out what Draco was up to. When going through them after Harry left, Ron raised his eyebrows at that.

Apparently, Harry having those pictures was news to him. A secret between Harry and Colin as Harry never told Draco about them either.

Harry went to the kitchen to make some tea. He opened cupboard after cupboard, but all he found was junk food. There was trash everywhere, empty snack wrappers and take-out food containers.

Everything about it seemed the antithesis of what he'd come to know as Draco.

He grabbed the counter to steady himself.

Taking a deep breath, Harry walked back into the living room. Draco was fast asleep on the couch. Harry didn't need to make tea anyway; he'd done his duty. He couldn't handle being there anymore, knowing he'd hit another memory if he hung around too long.

Another sign that his heart wasn't the only one broken win that bet, so he left.

Leaving didn't stop the memories from coming.

Only they weren't the memories of them together that he'd been running from that came to him, but the ones after he'd left. The stories that came to him through gossip that people whispered about and sometimes said right to Harry's face, knowing enough that Harry had some interest in news about Malfoy, but no knowing enough that this news would hurt him.

Everyone knew what Draco was up to.

Having sex with anyone who offered.

Taking large amounts of dangerous potions.

Harry knew that the sex part wasn't entirely true, though. Draco couldn't do that, even now, without the chastity belt charm stopping him. Harry never signed the divorce papers. It was most likely the only reason Draco had been half-naked. Harry couldn't let him move on yet; Harry hadn't moved on yet. Harry couldn't help but wonder if the sex clubs were some sort of test for him. Maybe tonight would be the night that his pants would finally come off. Harry, also, couldn't help but wonder what Draco would if they ever did. If he would run out of there and never look back, or have sex with every willing person who passed by.

The potions weren't illegal. Only potions that hurt others were. You could hurt yourself all you wanted in the wizarding world as long as you weren't sneaking a potion to someone against their will, everything was legal.

It was still looked down on, though.

Especially for a Healer.

Just like the sex clubs.

Harry knew when Draco started going because everyone had an opinion on it. He'd never been so bad that Jim had to call for help before, though. Harry needed a drink. He stopped to pick up a bottle of firewhiskey and then went back to his new flat.

There wasn't much in it. No furniture. Harry hadn't even bothered to buy a bed. Just a mattress that he left on the floor. He didn't need a dresser; his trunk held all his things just like it had back at Hogwarts.

As empty as it was, Harry's flat was just as trashed as Draco's. Harry threw out his takeout containers but hadn't got around to the empty glass bottles that were piling up next to his mattress.

Looking around, Harry opened the bottle and brought it his mouth, but didn't take a drink.

#

There was perhaps nothing more creepy than a ghost answering the door in a large, quiet Manor at half one in the morning.

'Mother's not in,' Ara said as Harry stepped into the house.

'Oh, she wasn't expecting me.' Harry looked around the entryway. 'How did you open the door?'

Ara smiled and shook her head. 'The house elf did.'

Harry looked around, again.

'She went back to bed, of course.'

The door slowly closed behind Harry, who jumped when he heard it click shut.

'Would you like to wait for her in the sitting room?'

'I'd like to speak with you, actually,' Harry said, stepping toward her. It was rather late at night, and though it was odd that Narcissa wasn't home, Harry was more curious if ghosts simply had no sense of time.

Looking away, Ara said, 'Oh, whatever for?'

'Because, I think that you know Draco better than anyone else.'

Ara didn't deny it and turned to face Harry again.

'He's … hurting—'

'You left him.'

True. 'It wasn't real.'

'Wasn't it?'

Harry watched Ara float in front of him and thought that many things in Draco's life seemed unreal.

'What do you want from me?' Ara asked.

'I don't know what to do. My friends said—they're normally right about these things—they think that I need to do something big to show Draco that I'm sorry and that I messed up because he'll never forgive me otherwise. The thing is I have no idea what that is. And the more time that passes, I feel the grander this thing needs to be.'

'Go home to him, Harry.' Ara smiled her small, sad smile. 'Go home to him and hold him.'

'That seems a rather small effort.' It had been all Harry thought about doing for a while then. All he'd wanted to do since he'd walked in that club and seen him almost passed out on the floor. Hold on to him and never let him go.

'I have a question for you.'

'Yes.'

'Why do you seem so sad when you look at us?'

Harry didn't ask her to clarify. Ara had caught him a few times looking at her and her sisters solemnly.

'Because you're ghost,' Harry said.

'Are you sad when you see all ghost.'

'No, but you're so young, and you all died at the same time. It makes me wonder how, why, and what it must have been like for Draco growing up with sisters he outgrew, who he could never really play with. For Narcissa to…'

'See her children crying but never be able to hold them,' Ara finished for Harry. 'Sometimes the simplest things in the world are all we need.