Disclaimer: The characters belong to J.K. Rowling and the lyrics to Amy Winehouse.

Warnings: Themes of substance abuse and suicide.

A/N: This is Part One of Two and I'll try and post the next part within the next week or so. I mentioned in my last fic Enchanted that I was writing another non-magic fic and I still am. This one just crept up on me like the last one. Please review!

You went back to what you knew
So far removed from all that we went through
And I tread a troubled track
My odds are stacked
I'll go back to black

We only said good-bye with words
I died a hundred times
You go back to her
And I go back to...

- Back to Black by Amy Winehouse

He thought he would have been safe in the muggle world. After what happened he sure as hell didn't want to step one foot in Diagon Alley and risk seeing him with her. Pansy told him he couldn't avoid the wizarding world forever and it wasn't a guarantee that Draco wouldn't see him in the muggle world since he did live in a muggle neighborhood, even if it was Grimmauld Place. Draco had made sure to avoid that area and all the old haunts they used to go to together. His mother tried to convince him to move back in to the Manor and Draco declined every time she asked. He couldn't tell her or anybody else that there was no way he could part with what had been their flat even though it was making Draco more depressed with each passing day, surrounded by things that had been theirs. He had the feeling that his mother knew why he refused to move back home and his response was always followed by tight lips and a worried frown. He also knew she worried he would go back to his old ways.

Draco had chosen this particular supermarket because it was new and Draco, trying to convince himself that he was moving forward even if it was by going to only a new supermarket and in the muggle world no less, thought that there was no way he would see anybody he knew there. It had only been two months and Draco had seen him once in Diagon Alley, walking alone, and he had avoided Diagon Alley and much of the wizarding world since then.

He pushed the grocery cart slowly as he walked up the aisle. It was the middle of the afternoon on a Tuesday so there were very few people there, despite it being a relatively new store. Soft music that was playing the supermarket's jingle could be heard in the background and the beep of the cashier ringing up other customers' goods floated towards him. When Draco turned his cart, heading towards the produce section, he saw them.

They were both pushing the cart and her head was thrown back in laughter as if he had just told her something quite funny, perhaps about peaches of all the ridiculous things in the world. Draco could only see the back of him until she turned, reaching for a plastic bag and turning her head to say something to him. The man turned towards her and shrugged.

As soon as he saw who it was, even if it was the back of him for he could never mistake his unruly black hair or her long red hair, he had frozen, gripping the handle of the cart so tightly his knuckles turned white.

"Dearie?" Draco only slightly registered the voice as an elderly lady with curly gray hair and glasses that had a string of beads around its frame spoke. It was only when she lightly touched his arm did he jerk and turn towards her. "Are you alright?"

"I-," he began, but there were no words as Draco continued to watch them, not questioning until later what exactly they were doing there, in a muggle grocery store not close to Grimmuald Place.

The lady continued to look at Draco with a concerned expression, but Draco did the only thing he could think of. He fled.

After the war Draco had expected his life to change for the better. He knew it wouldn't exactly be easy, but he thought things would eventually have looked up. Draco himself was let off with community service; his mother was placed under house arrest for six months and had five years probation while his father was sentenced to ten years in Azkaban. There weren't dementors anymore, thankfully, but it was only three months after his father's imprisonment that they received an owl saying that Lucius Malfoy had died in prison due to unknown causes. His mother suspected suicide and, all things considering, had taken it much better than Draco did. Draco suspected that it was this event that caused his downward spiral.

Things had been hard enough seeing as he had to complete his community service at the Ministry where he was required to help clean. Draco despised it, feeling himself equal to a house elf, as people sneered, spat, and said degrading things towards him. When his father died he began to drink heavily, taking to the bottle after every shift at the Ministry was over. He had still been living at the Manor at the time and he had constantly brewed a sobriety potion that he took the very next morning so his mother had no suspicion. It was only after nearly a year had passed and Draco became immune to the affects that his mother had started to notice.

"Have you been drinking, Draco?" he recalled her asking one morning at breakfast. "You smell of firewhiskey and your eyes are bloodshot." Draco had said nothing and she clucked her tongue at him. "You know I disapprove of such behavior, but if you insist on indulging every once in a while then at least have the propriety of taking a sobriety potion."

He didn't bother telling his mother that the potion didn't work anymore and it was only after one particularly harsh day at the Ministry, where Weasley had spat, belittled, and laughed in his face, had pushed him over the edge. Draco never thought it was possible to consume a bottle and a half of firewhiskey in less than two hours, but it was. He hoped the alcohol was poisoning his bloodstream as he blacked out in his sitting room that evening.

When he woke next he found himself in St. Mungo's and his mother crying over him. She told him that when he hadn't come to breakfast the next morning she had a house elf check up on him and it was then that they discovered Draco. It had shocked him when the healer came in and that he was accompanied by Potter who was wearing the lilac robes of trainee healers.

"Mr. Malfoy!" exclaimed the older wizard, peering over his glasses while flipping through papers in his hands. "I'm glad to see you're awake! You've caused your mother quite the scare." Draco barely registered the words since he kept staring at Potter who would look at Draco, avert his eyes, and then look back. It was only when his mother gripped his hand painfully that he registered what the healer was saying.

"You're lucky you were found when you had been Mr. Malfoy. That much alcohol should never be ingested in your system. It's all out now, but we're concerned." The healer pulled up a rolling stool and sat down on it next to Draco's bed. Potter kept standing and he looked considerably more uncomfortable as if he knew what the healer was going to tell Draco would be unpleasant. "When we ran tests on you it came to our attention that your body is immune to the ingredients of what is a sobriety potion. This leads me to believe that you have an alcohol addiction problem."

"Oh, Draco," he heard his mother cry and she gave a sob. Draco's only response was to blink and the mediwizard gazed at Draco with a serious and concerned expression.

"Mr. Malfoy, Draco, we think it would be best if you entered a rehabilitation center. St. Mungo's has a wonderful rehabilitation affiliate not far from here. The program is ninety days and you'll be in a small group with only six other people. The doctors and specialists are certified from St. Mungo's. We think it's best if you start as soon as possible."

Draco said nothing, the words not seeming to register, as he looked back and forth between the healer and Potter. Rehab? They wanted him to go to rehab for an alcohol problem?

"Mrs. Malfoy," said the healer after Draco said nothing. "Your son is very sick. Our tests show that he's had this problem for over six months, but in all reality it could be much longer than that. Only Draco can answer that question. Perhaps you and Draco would like the chance to speak since this seems to have come as a shock to you." The healer rose and stepped back before motioning towards Harry. "Mr. Potter here is my trainee. He'll be back shortly to check up on Draco and I'll come back later to discuss future plans."

For the first time since Draco saw Potter enter the room said man looked up and into Draco's eyes, their gazes holding each other's briefly until Draco broke it, turning his head away from his mother who was crying softly.

Draco had been in rehab for approximately one week before he received the first letter from Potter. He wasn't exactly sure what to expect: a letter laughing at how far Draco Malfoy had fallen and deserved what he got or one where Saint Potter was trying to save him. It was more of the latter, but not quite so. Potter hadn't mentioned any saving, but it wasn't until much later that Draco realized Potter had saved him. Then at least.

The letter was rather short, explaining that he had been in the Substance Abuse Department's rotation for several months at that point and he was glad that Draco made the decision to go to rehab. He knew that rehab, and in particular the facility that Draco was at, allowed no visitations and the only form of contact was through owl, and that it could be quite lonely. Perhaps they could start over and begin a correspondence with one another? Draco had written back quickly, telling Potter to fuck off and go save someone worth saving. He didn't want to be saved, obviously, since he had practically poisoned himself with too much alcohol. Potter replied that very same day that if he hadn't wanted to save himself then he wouldn't be in rehab. Draco knew the git had a point, but he refused to write back until one day in group they were required to write to someone who they had wronged in the past as part of their 'Steps Program to Recovery'. He had a whole list of those, but since Potter had already contacted him he figured it was an easy way out so he wrote back, apologizing for his past misdeeds, in particular what had occurred in their sixth year. He also thanked him for saving his life in the Room of Requirement. Potter easily accepted his apology, making his own apologies for his past behavior towards Draco and thanking Draco and his mother for saving his life in the Manor.

From there one could say it was history, but it wasn't. Draco and Potter had kept up a correspondence throughout his rehab and when it was Draco's 'graduation ceremony' – a ceremony where the family members of those who were leaving rehab were invited to celebrate the overcoming of the main hurdle of their loved one's addiction – he had invited Potter, who had somewhere along the line become Harry. He honestly didn't think the other man would show up, but when he saw the tall, messy hair and green eyed man in fitted trousers and a sports coat sitting next to his mother in the white chairs on the green lawn, he couldn't help but smile at said man. Harry smiled encouragingly back and when the ceremony was over Draco found himself being hugged tightly by his mother.

"Oh, darling I'm so proud of you!" she said, pulling back from Draco and wiping her eyes. Draco was surprised she said nothing about Harry and in fact they actually seemed to get on quite well.

"Thank you mother. As you know it's been extremely difficult, but I'm proud of myself too." He turned towards Harry, shoving his hands in his pockets, a trait he once attributed to the gawky boy that Potter had been. He wondered when he became so Gryffindor and not in the brave sort of way. "Harry thanks for coming. You really didn't have to. I know you're busy finishing healing training."

"Of course I would come. I wouldn't miss it for the world." Draco felt himself blush, actually blush, and his mother linked her arm through his as they all chatted for a few minutes.

"I was wondering if you would like to get coffee sometime," Harry asked as people began to leave.

"Yes, that would be wonderful. Tomorrow?" said Draco. Harry grinned at him and said he would owl Draco with the location and for once he felt as if things were finally getting better.

Draco would meet Harry twice a week at the same café at the same time where they would get together and talk about Harry's final days as a trainee before he took the healer exam, Quidditch, and other various topics, until Harry invited him to a Magpies game for the upcoming weekend. From that point on they would meet outside of the café, Harry sometimes inviting him over to Grimmuald Place where they would cook dinner and Draco would trounce the other man in wizarding's chess while he was beaten soundly in Exploding Snap. It was after one of these dinners where they were sitting on the couch next to each other that Harry kissed him. After that the two were inseparable and six months later they purchased a flat together.

It had been two and a half wonderful years since then. Harry had always been supportive of Draco, never once drinking even when he went out to the pub with his friends. Harry refused to allow alcohol in their flat including parties and get togethers they had.

Until that fateful day. The Weasleys had always been a source of argument for them, especially Ginny Weasley or Weaselette as Draco still liked to refer to her. She still had her eye on Harry, unabashedly flirting with the man in front of Draco and Harry always denied that she was still fawning over him. Draco knew that Harry considered the Weasleys family and when Draco came home one day, he found Harry sitting at the kitchen table, head bent over his arms.

"Harry, love?" Harry looked up from his folded hands, and Draco immediately knew something was amiss. He initially panicked and thought someone had died, but to Draco what was said next was so much worse.

"Draco, I – I can't be with you anymore."

The blood had rushed to his ears and he felt faint. His hand reached out for the wall, where he leaned against it.

"Why?"

Draco had asked and there was no response. He begged and pleaded, things a Malfoy should never do, but Harry only shook his head and apparated away, a faint 'good-bye' the last thing he had heard.

At first Draco was furious. He owled, he sent howlers, he tried to even talk to Granger, but it was no use. He only wanted to know why, but he never received an answer. It was Pansy who told him that Harry had gotten back with the Weaselette for she had spotted them together in Diagon Alley and later confronted Granger about it.

When Narcissa found out Draco knew she was more worried about whether or not Draco would relapse. It had been hard and many times he thought about drinking again. He even went so far as to go to a muggle liquor store and buy a cheap bottle of vodka, but he had smashed the bottle and broken down in sobs instead.

But now, actually seeing Harry with the Weaselette, it was so much worse. Draco had resisted in the two months since Harry had abruptly left, but seeing the two together pushed Draco too far. As soon as he left the grocery store he went to the nearest liquor store and bought a bottle of vodka. When he arrived back to his flat, his flat that he and Harry had shared together, he took the bottle out of the paper bag and set it on the island in the middle of the kitchen, just staring at it for several minutes. With shaky hands he reached for the bottle, tearing the cap off and pausing once more. He knew he shouldn't do this. He shouldn't drink because he had come so far and it had been three years, but when he thought about Harry and how he could do this to him, to go back to that redheaded bitch…

Draco clutched the bottle and raised it to his mouth, the liquid burning his throat and setting it on fire, just like his heart.

Over the next month Draco had somehow miraculously been able to avoid his mother, making sure to send reassuring owls so she wouldn't worry. He even went so far to tell her he was taking a short holiday to the coast, but his holiday consisted of him staying in his flat for a full week drinking vodka and rum. He also managed to avoid Pansy, although that was slightly easier seeing as the other girl actually had a life, something Draco did not. Only when Pansy owled and threatened that if Draco didn't come to dinner with her the following evening then she would come over to Draco's flat herself and drag him out, which was just not on, did he agree. Bottles were haphazardly discarded all throughout the flat and he didn't have an ounce of energy or the soberness to even attempt to try and clean even though the dinner wasn't until the next evening.

The next day he tried to not drink, not wanting Pansy to suspect that he had relapsed. The other Slytherin had been under house arrest the first two years after the war and it wasn't until after Draco had went to rehab and gotten together with Harry that she had found out about his problem.

He had stared at the half full bottle of rum that was sitting next to the kitchen sink and he constantly clenched and unclenched shaky hands, trying to resist. It was only ten a.m. when he caved in and had his first of four drinks before dinner.

Draco spotted Pansy already sitting at a table when he entered the restaurant. He smoothed his shirt down, his hands still shaking, in an attempt to try and at least appear sober, and he hoped Pansy wouldn't notice.

As Draco approached he immediately saw the girl looking him up and down with narrowed eyes and lips pursed.

Before he even sat down she said, "I would compliment you on your attire, but something's off. What's wrong?"

Draco sat down and immediately motioned over the waiter, hoping that a glass of water would sober him up somewhat.

"Nothing," he lied smoothly. Draco found it so easy to slip back to his alcoholic ways, the speech not slurred even after drinking a third of the bottle and lying easily, although that had always been a Slytherin trait. It was as if he never even went to rehab and this fact alone scared Draco more than he wanted to admit to himself.

"Don't lie to me, Draco. I'm a Slytherin too, remember?" Draco merely raised an eyebrow and picked up the menu. Pansy huffed and took a sip of her water, still eyeing Draco. It wasn't until after they ordered that her eyes widened and she seemed to pale.

"Whatever is the matter? You look like you've seen a ghost," he remarked. He turned to look around, inwardly panicking that she had seen Harry enter the restaurant. If that was true, then damn the fates, although it appeared they had it out for Draco anyway.

With a sigh of relief at not seeing Harry he turned back to Pansy.

"You're drunk!" she hissed at him. "How I couldn't notice it before I have no idea, but I imagine it's the amount of cologne you've doused yourself in trying to cover up the smell. Draco, how could you?" Her tone wasn't accusing, but rather pained as if she was the hurt one in the situation.

Draco looked down at the napkin in his lap before looking up again at Pansy with pained eyes.

"I didn't mean to Pans," he said quietly, the hurt evident in his voice. Pansy leaned closer towards him and when she saw the waiter approaching she glared at him, causing him to scamper off quickly. "I had been doing so well up til then. I know what everyone thought, well you and my mother at least. That I would relapse immediately after Harry left. I won't lie and say that I didn't think about it or that I didn't even buy a bottle of liquor." At this Pansy murmured 'Oh, Draco,' but he continued. "I went to the supermarket the other day. A new one that isn't even close to Grimmuald Place and I saw them there. It was the first time I had seen them together since."

There was no need to say who he was referring to for they both knew. Pansy reached out and placed her hand on the table and when Draco took it she squeezed it, not letting go.

"How long have you been drinking again?"

"A month." Pansy sighed again and Draco pulled away slightly, but she kept a tight grip. "I don't want you to tell my mother. She doesn't need to be worrying about me."

"Draco, you know you can't keep this from her. It's been going on long enough! You have to get help again."

Draco shook his head and this time he pulled away forcefully, jerking Pansy and his hands away from one another. "No – I – I just need to go cold."

Denial. Draco knew from rehab it was what all true addicts did. The first time Draco knew he had a problem so he never went through the denial process and his transition into rehab went much smoother than others' had been.

"Draco," began Pansy, but he cut her off.

"Listen, Pans. I promise I'll stop. Lord knows I need to get over him since he's obviously over me," he lied. Pansy raised an eyebrow and sat back in her chair, appearing thoroughly unconvinced, but luckily for Draco she said nothing more on the subject.

He knew telling Pansy was a mistake, but at the time he had been caught. He regretted it the minute he told the former Slytherin and to make up for it he went home and finished off a bottle. It only became worse when three days later Pansy showed up unexpectedly at Draco's flat. The blonde was hungover, his eyes were red, he had a pounding headache, and things were a little off kilter still.

"Good Lord, Draco!" exclaimed Pansy as she walked around Draco's flat. Bottles were littered all over the place and Pansy bent over one, wrinkling her nose as the dust floated up from it.

"Why didn't you tell me it was this bad? I swear there're at least forty bottles here." Pansy placed her hands on her hips as Draco just stood there and stared at her unblinkingly. She sighed and accioed a garbage bag, beginning to place the empty liquor bottles in it.

Draco walked slowly to the sofa and sat down on it, thankful when Pansy said nothing about not bothering to help her clean up his own flat. When the flat was empty of all bottles – including bottles that still had alcohol in them, much to Draco's distress although he voiced none of it – she handed him a glass of water and sat down next to him. Draco murmured thanks as he gratefully took a drink.

"Come stay with me, Draco. You can't stay here especially since you've started drinking again. Honestly I think we should tell your mother since I know she'd make you go back." There was no need to say where she was referring to since they both knew.

"I can't, Pans."

"For fuck's sake Draco! I know you don't want to leave because this was your flat with him, but look what's done to you! You've relapsed and it's his fault. Don't even try denying it!"

His mouth had opened to protest against what she said, but he knew it was no use.

"No, Pansy. I won't."

She stood up and huffed, muttering under her breath something along the lines of "hex him til Sunday" and "he'll have no balls".

"I'm coming back tomorrow then," she announced. "I better not find any alcohol here," and with that the brunette apparated out of the flat.

Draco sighed, not even having the energy to move from the sofa. He felt his eyelids flutter shut and he was just drifting off when there was a tap of what could only be an owl at his window. Draco groaned, partially because he didn't want to move and also because he hoped it wasn't his mother. When the tapping continued he reluctantly went to the window where the bird extended its leg, the Daily Prophet distinctly attached to it.

As soon as Harry had left Draco cancelled their subscription to the Prophet. He didn't want to risk seeing anything printed about Harry and the Weaselette and if anything was ever mentioned about the two in it neither Pansy nor his mother had said anything to him.

Draco frowned, wondering why he was being sent the newspaper until he unfolded it and saw a beaming picture of Ginny Weasley on the front page, her left hand held out flashing a huge diamond ring. He immediately sank to the floor and skimmed over the article, his mind only catching the important parts such as 'The Savior and his former Hogwarts Sweetheart, Ginny Weasley were engaged', a 'joyous occasion', and 'the most anticipated wedding of the century'.

The paper dropped from his hand and he could only stare as his thoughts whirled wondering how his life had come to this. He thought things had been bad after his father's death, but this, this was so much worse.

When Draco returned with two bottles of vodka, he knew what he was doing. The first time he had no intention of actually trying to kill himself. This time he knew what would happen and he readily accepted the pending numbness. He wouldn't take chances this time and before he opened the first bottle he warded his flat with the strongest spells he knew.

He downed half of the first bottle within minutes and as he tore off the cap of the second bottle he wondered if life after death got any better.