Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to the amazing JK Rowling, and sadly, not me.
Thank you to my beta, HPalto87, and hearts to my reviewers!

11

'Malfoys don't cry.'

Despite how many times he told himself this, Draco couldn't stop sobbing. He lay on the bed where he and Harry had made love so many times, and cried for everything he had lost, every mistake he had made.

He hadn't cried this much since Harry had been in St. Mungo's. It was different though. Back then, their fate was beyond their control. He had thought Harry was going to die. He had even been prepared to die with him.

Draco suddenly remembered the potion he had bought back then to make the possibility of Harry dying easier. Draught of Eternal Sleep. He still had it, hidden with the letter in the back of the closet.

He remembered a time when the thought of losing Harry was so unbearable that he was willing to do such a thing. He wasn't that desperate anymore, but he did have an urge to look at the letter. In the past, when he was having problems with Harry, all he needed to do was read a bit of it, and he would remember just how much he loved the prat.

"But I don't want to be in love with him anymore," Draco said to the empty room.

Yes, you do, a tiny voice within him replied.

"Shut up!" Draco told it.

You're looking for excuses now. You may be angry with him, but you don't want to lose him.

"Yes, I do," Draco said. "He cheated on me. No man is worth that."

Even after what you two went through during the war?

The letter was calling to Draco. He pushed some piles of junk aside and dug around the back of the closet, where he knew the letter should be. He couldn't find it. He began digging through the closet in a desperate search. The longer this went on, the more panicked he became.

Where was it?

It couldn't go anywhere on its own! No one could take it because the only two people who knew of its existence were himself and Hermione. And even then, he was the only person who knew where it was.

Hermione had always encouraged Draco to show the letter to Harry, but he never had. It held so many personal thoughts and feelings and confessions that he was afraid it would scare Harry off. It was probably an irrational fear. Besides, the whole thing was over and done with. Their lives had changed so much since that was written that it all seemed irrelevant now.

Somewhere deep in his mind, was a little Hermione-like voice that kept saying it didn't matter, love doesn't change. Draco pushed this little voice aside and kept searching.

Hermione had saved his sanity. If it weren't for her, he never would have gotten through that time. Hell, she was probably the only thing keeping the Medi-Wizards from kicking Draco out of St. Mungo's. He was rude, annoying, and sulky. He would bother the hospital staff, mope in his corner, and complain loudly when he didn't get his way. He had acted like a child.

After Harry was released from St. Mungo's, he had always gone out of his way to help and support Hermione, even after she married the Weasel.

Their friendship had made Harry incredibly happy, but he knew that Harry always wished Draco would get along with all of the Weasels just as well. Unfortunately, that was never going to happen. He appreciated Molly, because she had accepted him. He and Ginny had slowly built a friendship after Harry hired her for the shop. He had never gotten to know Bill and Fleur well, as they were busy with their new family, and the twins had always made an effort with him, but they still weren't on particularly good terms.

And Ron, Harry's best friend, had never fully accepted him. Though, to be fair, Draco had never made much of an effort to befriend him either. They had a certain level of tolerance for each other, but their relationship would never be more than that.

Draco stopped searching.

Hermione and Ron. That's where Harry was. He didn't know why it didn't occur to him sooner, but of course that's where he would go. Who else would take him into their home in the middle of the night, and in such a state?

Draco wondered if Hermione had ever told Harry about the letter.

What if he took it? When Draco had got home, the room had been thoroughly rooted through, and most of Harry's things were gone. What if he had found the box when he was packing?

He had to talk to Hermione. He went to the floo, but found his way blocked by magic. He looked at the clock. Of course, Hermione and Ron would close the floo at night. He was sure they didn't want anyone coming into their house unexpectedly at four in the morning. He was sure Ron would freak out if he unexpectedly showed up inside their house, anyway.

He sighed and flopped back on the bed.

If Harry hadn't been so adamant on playing Quidditch, none of this would matter! Harry would be lying here in Draco's arms, and they would be happily continuing the life they had built for themselves.

The life that had made Harry unhappy.

Merlin, why was it all so complicated?

---

Flashback

Harry went to Quidditch tryouts despite Draco's protests. Draco stayed behind to run the store.

"Where's Harry today?" Seamus asked.

"Quidditch," Draco said with a scowl.

"Oh, right! Do you think he'll make the team?" Seamus asked. He was excited about this. In fact, it seemed that everyone but Draco was excited about it.

Draco just scowled some more and shoved a box of broom care kits into Seamus' hands. "These need to go out on the floor," he said, and pointed him to an empty display table.

Draco did, in fact, think Harry would make the team. Harry had always been an amazing seeker. Draco thought that even if Puddlemere wasn't desperate for players, and Harry had some real competition, he could make the team.

The only customer in the shop at the moment was being helped by Ginny, so Draco busied himself by straitening the display of Quidditch Through the Ages. The books didn't really need to be straitened, but Draco needed to keep himself busy in order to not blow up at the people around him.

He felt like he had done something wrong, that he was somehow driving Harry away. He pushed the thought aside, however. They had a good life. It was Harry's fault for messing things up.

More customers began to stream into the shop, and Draco was kept busy for the rest of the day with business. He managed to keep his anger in check until just before closing.

A burly wizard entered the shop, dragging a boy of about eleven or twelve by the hand.

"I need a racing broom," he demanded. He gestured to the boy. "For him."

Ginny and Zach had already gone home, and Seamus was doing inventory. With no employees readily available, Draco sighed and approached the man.

"If you want a good racing broom for kids, you probably want a Cleansweep or Nimbus," he said.

The man seemed dissatisfied with that answer. He pointed to the Comet 360 display. "Isn't that the best new broom on the market?"

"Yes, for professional players and adults who know how to control them," Draco replied irritably.

"I want a Comet 360," he demanded.

Draco looked at the boy. He looked scared, and half hid behind his father.

"He won't be able to control it," Draco said.

"How would you know what my son is capable of?" the man sneered.

Draco's hand immediately went to his wand. "This is my broom shop, I should know a thing or two about them," he said through gritted teeth.

The man looked Draco over. He was smaller, weaker-looking, and openly gay. "I don't need crap from a fucking ponce," he said.

"I don't need crap from an arse who clearly wouldn't know a broomstick from his own-"

"Hey!" Seamus' voice ended the argument. "Let me take this, Draco." He pushed his way between the blonde and the large wizard.

Draco snorted in anger and stalked away.