DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter (and associated characters, likenesses, concepts, etc.) belongs to J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing, Scholastic, Inc. AOL/Time Warner, Inc., among others. I make no claim, written or implied, upon Harry Potter. No money is being made and no infringement or disrespect to the creators / copyright holders is intended.

Song lyrics at the beginnings of chapters do not belong to me unless noted. They belong to their respectful artists, and I make no claim to them. Again, no money is being made, and no infringement or disrespect to the creators / copyright holders is intended.

Chapter One

Hard to Forget

"I think you can do much better than me

After all the lies that I made you believe…

…I told myself I won't miss you, but I remember

What it feels like beside you…

I really miss your hair in my face,

And the way your innocence tastes,

And I think you should know this:

You deserve much better than me…"

-- Better than Me (Hinder)

Draco Malfoy glowered sourly at the picture he held in his hands. In it, Harry Potter was grinning and waving up happily at him. An exact replica of himself (albeit slightly younger) stood in the photo, gripping the cheerful Harry possessively by the waist, trademark sneer in place.

Sighing in defeat, Draco dropped the picture to rub wearily at his eyes with the heels of his hands, not watching as it fluttered down to the ground and lodged itself comfortably beneath the plush chair in which he was lounging.

It had been two years. Two long years since he had last seen the Boy Who Lived. Two long, painful years since he had touched him, professed his love for him…and sacrificed his own happiness for his. Because, really, Harry deserved so much more than Draco could give him. If Draco stood in the way of Harry's happiness, he knew he'd never be able to forgive himself. And what grudges would Harry himself hold against Draco had Draco stayed and prevented him from fulfilling his every want?

No, Draco couldn't handle the thought of Harry being unhappy. Couldn't stand to think that if he had stayed, Harry would eventually grow to loathe him over time. And so, without a single word to Harry, he had packed everything he owned and left, refusing to look back.

Every day, he wondered if he had made a wise decision. He wondered how different it would be if he had stayed, but he knew that if he had, Harry would never be happy with him.

Occasionally, Potter would make headlines - especially in the Daily Prophet - and although Draco knew that all of the nonsense they spewed about him was utter rubbish, it also meant that he was updated on how Harry was fairing, no matter how stretched the truth might be.

Harry had seemed devastated at his loss of Draco…at the beginning.

But even Draco could tell from the photos provided with the intermittent stories that overall, Harry was happy. He had a certain glow about him - one that had most certainly been lacking when he had been with Draco. His eyes lit up with the smile that he usually sported, and even though the picture was black and white, Draco imagined he could see the few blue specks in his vibrant green eyes.

On days when he was especially lonely, he imagined he could hear Harry's laughter, could see the way his nose scrunched up so cutely when he was amused, the way his eyes shimmered with love for him and him alone. But those thoughts made his heart clench painfully and his eyes prick with hot tears, so he didn't spend much time lingering on them.

It had been so long since Draco had actually seen Harry. He was sure now that Harry didn't need him, and though that hurt even more than anything else possibly could, every time Draco found himself thinking along those lines, he always found a way to tell himself it was for the better.

Harry deserved someone who could provide him with more love than he knew what to do with. Someone who could protect him, make him feel safe and secure. Someone who wouldn't squander his beliefs, or make him believe that their thoughts were his own. Someone who wasn't a Death Eater's son. Someone who wasn't Draco Malfoy…

Taking a deep breath, Draco shakily collected himself before standing and making his way to the kitchen of his relatively small Muggle flat. Busying himself with preparing tea, he pushed his previous thoughts away and attempted to calm himself by tidying up the nearly immaculate kitchen.

When the tea was ready, he poured himself a cup and let the steam comfort him as the cup warmed his suddenly freezing hands. Moodily staring out the window at the overcast day, his eyes flashed as he steeled himself against the onslaught of memories of days just like this spent with Harry.

Setting the cup and saucer down on the counter a little more forcefully than he had intended to, Draco slapped his palm to his forehead and closed his eyes tightly, willing everything away.

"I really don't need this right now," he muttered in irritation.

Collapsing at the small table situated in front of the window overlooking the busy city, he cradled his head in his hands and breathed deeply. It felt as if he was nursing an extreme hangover as his head throbbed painfully, and suddenly the smell of the once alluring tea only made him nauseous.

---

Harry was leaning against the wall, eyebrows drawn together with concern as he watched Draco hold his head between his hands. It looked like he was in a lot of pain. Rolling his eyes, Harry smiled slightly as he approached Draco and grasped onto his shoulders to rub them reassuringly.

"All right?" he asked.

Draco looked up at Harry, eyes pained, but he forced a smile and shrugged noncommittally. Harry grinned and pulled Draco into a long hug, and Draco loved the feeling of security Harry gave him without even trying, even though the threat of his head splitting in half marred the perfection of the moment somewhat. When Harry began to pull away, Draco reluctantly let him go, and grasped the chipped cup of tea in both of his hands, avoiding eye contact with his lover.

Harry rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "I'll go Floo-call Severus. He's probably got a good hangover potion or two," he muttered. Draco nodded his thanks. He could still hear Harry grousing as he left the room. "I told you not to drink so much, Draco. You know you don't hold your liquor very well,"

Draco sighed and took a long, calming draught of his tea, and by the time Harry returned, his stomach had settled marginally. He greedily eyed the vial Harry held in between two long fingers. Already he could feel the relief the potion would bring him, and he licked his lips expectantly.

Harry chuckled and handed him the potion, unable to resist the look of relief on Draco's face. "I love you. You know that?" Harry commented, a smile curling his lips up playfully.

Draco grinned at him and when he downed the potion, he tasted absolutely nothing.

---

Draco jerked out of the fond memory abruptly, grimacing at the pain his sudden movement sent through his head. Groaning, he stood and staggered towards the bathroom where he kept all of his life-saving remedies. Almost recklessly, he shoved bottles of potions out of the way, nearly causing quite a good few to go crashing to the ground, until he found the one he was looking for.

Lifting the Dreamless Sleep potion up to eye level, he noted dully that it was nearly gone and that he'd have to venture out to get more soon, before he threw his head back and took a long healthy swallow.

By the time he made it to his bed, he could barely keep his eyes open. He fell into the queen-sized bed still fully clad in the clothes he had worn that day, feet hanging over the edge and trainers still laced up tightly.