Summary: I don't know why you're with me. If you don't go now, I'll never let you leave. Save yourself the heartache and go before its too late.

Disclaimer: I don't own any recognizable content.

Why Are You Still Here?

I don't know why she's with me

I only brought her trouble since the day she met me

If I was her, by now I would have left me

I would have walked away

~Walk Away, The Script

Draco walked through the crowded street, the collar of his black jacket raised against the bitter winter wind and the stares of the crowd. He could hear the whispers; feel the judgement that washed off them.

"There's that Malfoy," one of them spat, venom clear in their tone.

"Evil incarnate," another one spewed.

"Should be behind bars."

"Should be kissed by a dementor."

"Definitely untrustworthy."

"Would not want to work with him."

"Terrible! Awful! Scum!"

Draco hurried on passed the people, trying to ignore their words. The problem was that Draco had said many of the same things about himself. He believed he was a bad person, that he should have been punished for the crimes that he'd committed.

When he hadn't been punished, when Harry Potter had stood up and vouched for him, he'd made a vow. He would try to live a better life, be a better person in an attempt to make up for what he'd done. However, changing yourself and your life and getting others to believe that you were doing so, was no an easy or quick process. Draco would have to put up with whispers, names, and rude comments for a while yet.

Finally, he escaped from the crowd and left Diagon Alley. He headed into muggle London and relaxed his stiff posture. If he could avoid it, Draco didn't visit areas with large magical populations. He felt he should be punished; felt he deserved what they were saying. That didn't mean he liked hearing it, liked subjecting himself to it. That day, however, he had needed to go to Diagon Alley, but he tried to do it as quickly as possible.

Once out in muggle London, he was able to relax. No one knew who he was; no one knew what he had done. It was safer for his sanity out in London, away from the magical world.

He walked down several streets before coming to a stop in front of a quaint row house. There was a small garden out front with some flowers, and a simple fence, much like all the other houses on the street, enclosed the garden. A pathway led up to a clear, wooden front door with the number 21 on it. One of the front windows was open a crack, despite the cold weather, and tinkling music issued through it.

Draco smiled at the sound and sight. No one should have been home which meant that she had left in a rush and her scattered brain hadn't remembered to turn off the music or close the window. It was just such typical Astoria behaviour.

Astoria.

The one good thing in his life was the shorter, dark haired, scatter-brained and slightly disorganized woman who had against all odds agreed to share her life with him. They'd first met as young kids, their parents being friends, but never really spent a lot of time together. They'd then re-met a few years prior and struck up a friendship that eventually morphed into a romance.

Often, Draco wondered why Astoria stuck with him. Her family, while of the same ancient pureblood stock as his own, had never supported the Dark Lord. She did not carry the same stigma as he did. Yet, with her choice to associate with him, she was beginning to develop one.

He hung his head and let the feelings associated with that thought wash over him. He stood, nearly motionless, at his front gate for thirty seconds. His heart began to constrict and pangs of pain radiated throughout his body. Pressure began to build in his head, leading to a headache just above his nose. Then, after the thirty seconds, Draco shoved the thought and all the feelings down into a small corner of his being.

Whenever anything about his past and the hurt it had caused or was causing, he would give himself thirty seconds to be masochistic, to feel the pain and agony he deserved to feel. But it was only ever thirty seconds. Any longer and he felt he'd be consumed by it.

After collecting himself, Draco walked up the path and into the house. He deposited his coat on the stand by the door, almost instantly regretting it. The open window made the inside almost as cold as the outside. He quickly walked into the front room, an informal sitting and reading room, and shut the window. He then retrieved his wand from his pocket and started a fire in all the fireplaces in the house, hoping it would warm quickly.

Draco then surveyed the small room and chuckled to himself once again. Astoria was a Healer-in-Training, which meant she had a lot of books to read and papers to write. She must have been in the middle of researching for one just before she left because books and scraps of parchment with jot notes on them littered the floor. He had once joked that they would never know if their house was burglarized because it always looked ransacked.

Knowing that, despite the haphazard look of the room Astoria had a system of where things were, Draco left the sitting room and entered the much cleaner kitchen. He quickly set to making himself some tea and retiring to his office to read over documents he'd just received about his most recent case.

Draco had stumbled upon the legal profession quite by accident. He'd always been a good orator, able to convince and command with just his words. He'd never thought of making a career of it, though. Not until Abraham Greengrass. Astoria's father had offered him a job at his law firm. Draco had instantly agreed, not set on becoming a lawyer but not sure how may job offers he'd be getting after the war. He'd quickly found that dealing with other people's problems was an excellent distraction from his own, and began pursuing his legal career in earnest.

Once again, Draco easily forgot his problems in his case, some extremely pretentious wizard claiming that a young up-and-coming potions master had stolen his idea for a beauty potion. The more trivial the case, as this one obviously was, the more he enjoyed it. As a result, Draco quickly became so absorbed in his case that he lost track of time.

"There you are!" a cheery voice sounded. Draco looked up from the thick document, the pretentious wizard's patent, and saw Astoria standing in the doorway of his office. Her hair was messily tied up in a bun and she was still wearing her scrubs, a quite violent shade of neon green.

"How long have you been home?" Draco asked, trying to orient himself in time.

"Not long. Came home and my record was skipping; it was at the end. I wondered where you were. You usually would have turned the record off when you got home, so I was a little concerned."

"I did close the window," Draco responded, smirking playfully at Astoria. "Just lost myself in casework, didn't even hear the music playing." Astoria returned the smirk before less-than-elegantly collapsing onto the small loveseat couch across from Draco's desk.

"Good case?" she asked. That was always her first question when he got a new case. And, she meant a multitude of things by it. Was it a case he felt he could win? Was it a case he found interesting? Was it a case that he could use to make himself feel better about his past?

"Yeah, the other side's client is a real ass, trying to take advantage of a young upstart. I don't think he has much of a case so it shouldn't be that hard to win."

"Sounds like you had a better day than I did. Some jerk complained to my attending about my 'disrespectful care' and I spent most of my morning in HR going over my actions and filling out paperwork. Really crappy way to start out my day. And, on top of that, it was found that the guy made it all up because he 'had a personal problem' with me. Arrrgghh!" Astoria dug the heels of her hands into her eyes in frustration. Draco stiffened at her words.

Astoria was not the type of person who had 'personal problems'. She was far too kind, too nice. Draco, on the other hand, had plenty of personal problems. Now was it, his name and reputation, beginning to run off on Astoria? Were people not just judging her, but actively out to get her? Because of her association with him?

"Tor, do you think this man was doing this because of-"

"No!" Astoria spoke emphatically, cutting Draco off before he could finish his thought, before he could blame himself for her troubles. She jumped up from the couch and clenched her fists. "This has nothing to do with any of that! This was just some grumpy old guy who wanted attention!"

"How do you know?" Draco asked, standing up as well, "A personal problem means something specific about you. The only thing about you that someone could have a problem with is me! Tori, can't you see that! I'm starting to cause you actual issues, things that could harm your reputation and your profession!"

"People are idiots! They will always be idiots! As long as I don't do anything, them saying terrible things about me won't actually harm me. I can take a few baseless complaints. You need to stop blaming yourself for the issues of other people!"

"I just don't want my family, my reputation, my past to hold you back. You deserve so much more than I can give you. You should be with someone whose reputation will only enhance yours. Someone who will help you achieve all your dreams, not keep you from them. You just- you deserve better." Draco slumped back down into his chair. This wasn't the first time they'd had this argument. Essentially since the beginning of their relationship, Draco had bee trying to convince Astoria that he was no good, that she should be with someone else.

So far, he hadn't been successful. Astoria had stuck by him through each and every argument.

A rustling sound drew Draco's head up from its cradle in his arms. Astoria had moved from her position in front of the couch and was now kneeling down beside him. She reached out and grabbed his hands in hers.

"You silly man," she spoke, looking into his eyes with an expression completely full of love, "when will you get it through your head that you are the man I deserve and that I'm not going anywhere. I knew who you were, what your reputation was, when I started this. I wasn't daunted by it then and I'm certainly not daunted by it now." Astoria then raised herself slightly and kissed Draco. She let all of her emotions, her love for him, flow out of her and into him through the kiss.

For a moment, at least, as he sat there, kissing Astoria, Draco let his worry go and simply enjoyed the moment.

The End