So, I posted a prompt for a Harry Potter Forum and decided to write on it, too. I had someone randomly choose the numbers for me. I do not own Harry Potter! I'm just a fan-girl :) So this is based off the song Circle the Drain by Katy Perry. Enjoy! Please r&r!

UPDATE: At the encouragement of aislinn aira I've decided to make this into a short story, likely not more than a couple chapters long. So keep your eyes peeled!

I love him so much it hurts sometimes. I love the way his white-blonde hair falls into his grey eyes. I love the way his hand possessively grips my hip when we walk through a crowd. I love the way he bites at my lip when we kiss and how he grunts out my name as he releases into me. Let's face it, I love everything about him and I truly believed that we could live happily ever after. But since the end of the war, when we were supposed to run off into the sunset together, things have just gone downhill.

At first, everything was great. Celebrating every night, sleeping the days away in each others arms, free drinks always within reach. But as everything settled down and we began to fall into a routine, I started realizing just how much he was drinking. More often than not, I would come home from work to find empty bottles of Fire Whiskey and his slumbering body passed out on our bed.

It was even worse to find him awake. I'll walk in through the door to be greeted by him drunkenly feeling me up and pulling us onto the couch. He flops around on top of me for a couple minutes, only to pass out mid-kiss with his hand down the front of my pants. Either way, he's back to the Draco I love in the morning and remembers nothing of it.

He never drinks when I'm around. I think he really believed for a long time that I didn't notice. On the weekend, everything seems fine and that we really have that fairytale ending. He holds me, tells me that he loves me, that I'm his world. We're happy and I fool myself into thinking that he's finally okay. But come Monday, it all comes back.

I've tried talking to him, but he quickly changes the subject and refuses to answer anything I ask. I made the mistake of bringing up his short time with the Death Eaters. He immediately jumped up from his chair and punched me in the face several times before running out the front door. He was gone for three days.

I had just finished calling everyone we knew for the hundredth time when he came stubbing in the door. I yelled at him for scaring me, screamed at him for hitting me. He just stood there, staring at the floor. When I stopped to take a breath, he slowly walked towards me, taking my face in his hands as his soft lips met mine. He tasted of mead, but I let him deepen the kiss and drag us to our bedroom.

He softly pushed me onto the bed, climbing on top of me. As he slowly unbuttoned my shirt, his lips found my black eye and graced it tenderly. Heavy tears began to fall and he kissed my cheeks dry. His touch was gentle as he removed all our clothes and began to rub my cock. He entered me slowly, whispering how he loved me, how he was sorry, how it would never happen again. We came together in pure bliss and I fell asleep in his arms.

It was the first night in a long time that we actually made love and not just fucked.

But the next afternoon, I found him in another drunken stooper on our couch in just his boxer-briefs. What is with him and being naked when drinking? I picked up his clothes and moved to fold them when I felt a large lump in his jeans pocket. I plunged my hand in and my heart dropped. Grasped in my hand was a plastic baggy of little white and pink pills.

That was it. I couldn't do it anymore. I went to our bedroom and packed all my stuff into an enchanted bag. I placed the baggy on the dinning room table next to a scrawled note:

Found this in your pocket today. You won't talk to me and you won't get better on your own. I can't take care of you anymore. I'm not sticking around to watch you destroy yourself.

Don't try to contact me. I hope this wakes you up to what you're doing. Goodbye, Draco, and good luck.

Love Always,

Ron

Pulling on my jacket, I took one last look at him as he snored on the loveseat. I grabbed a blanket and laid it over his shivering body. I made sure his head was facing over the side of the couch before leaving. Tears streamed down my face as I stood in the front yard for a moment before appariting away.