Hello Dear readers! This is another Dean/Draco story. I hope you enjoy.

Summary: When Draco loses everything, how will he cope with Dean Thomas as his sole supporter?

Dean Thomas knew what it felt like to have nothing. He knew what it felt like to be resented by people that were supposed to love you. Dean Thomas knew what it felt like to have to live independently without help from anyone because they didn't understand; they only judged and shook their heads in shame. He knew what it felt like to be written off and treated like he was less than a human being.

He had practice. So now in his 19th year of life he knew how to hide his emotions behind fake smiles; he had the laugh lines to prove that others thought he was happy. After the grueling Battle of Hogwarts while the tears streamed down the faces of students and faculty alike, Dean had a smile on his face. Most people chalked it up to the old adage: You smile to keep from crying. He knew how to speak so that no one could hear the hurt that would normally be laced behind every word. He learned how to be sociable enough so that no one would ask questions that he wasn't ready to answer. If he was too much of a recluse, someone might begin to see the cracks that made up the complex being that he had worked so hard to construct. So once every other week he had lunch with Seamus. Every Friday he would paint with Luna. Once a month he would meet up with George and Angelina to discuss quidditch.

If Dean Thomas believed in fate, he would say that it was fate the day he ran into Draco Malfoy on the streets Diagon Alley. It was a gloomy looking fall day. The usual buzz that accompanied the homely area sounded within his ears. Malfoy was standing on the outside of Flourish and Botts, not facing toward the store, but away from it. His robes were unnecessarily thick for this time of year. His blond head was directed toward the ground, as if trying to remain unidentifiable. Dean was approaching the figure that was Draco from behind. A portly witch walking past Draco seemed to pump shoulders with him.

"Watch it! These things are expensive!" She shrieked

"My apologies, Madam." The woman stared hard into the face of the man.

"Why, if it isn't Draco Malfoy? I thought they would've locked you up under Azkaban by now." Her loud exclamations caused fellow wizards and witches to pay closer attention to the scene unfolding before their eyes. A small crowd began to form. Draco turned and hurriedly walked in the other direction.

"Yeah, that's it, run along Malfoy. Your family got what they deserved. How does it feel not having anything! Your life is destroyed just like how your damned father destroyed mine! I hope the guards let the dementors spend extra time with Cissy and Luc!" The crowd escalated the volume of their murmurs, most in agreement with the witch.

Dean Thomas followed quickly in the direction in which Malfoy had fled.

He only had to travel a short distance when he came upon Malfoy who was lighting a muggle cigarette with his head down.

"You know those aren't good for you."

"Does it look like I give a shit right now?"

"Malfoy, I know you're going through a rough time-" Draco looked into the eyes of Dean Thomas and gave his trademark snort.

"You don't know shit Thomas. No one does."

"About what that woman said back there, while some of it may have been true…"

"Rubbish, all of them. It was nothing. I'm fine."

"I didn't ask how you were, which means you're dwelling on it." There was a brief silence on Draco's part. He was feeling so many different emotions and he didn't need Dean Thomas adding on to the mess that was his life.

"You think you're so clever. I'd appreciate it if you just left."

"I just want to make sure that you're okay. You look awful. You're just hitting a rough patch in your life. It will get better."

"Obviously you're not going to leave, so I will." Draco took off down the narrow street, huffing in annoyance. Dean just then noticed that Draco was no longer within arms reach so he quickly jogged in the direction that Draco had taken off into. Because of the long legs that he was blessed with, he reached Draco within seconds.

"Look, I'm sorry. Seamus used to tell me I should be more sensitive to people's feelings. Some people say I can kind of be a little bit of an asshole…I'm really bad at comforting people."

"Who said I needed or wanted your comfort?"

"Draco, I don't think you should go through all of this shit by yourself."

"Oh, so you think you're a viable option for a support system?"

"I don't see anyone else willing to assist you. I heard Blaise and Pansy ran off to Italy the second the war was over, vowing never to step foot around here again. Crabbe and Goyle are both dead. Theo is still only God knows where."

"Well, I don't need anyone. I'll be just fine, thank you. Now if you'll please excuse me." Draco turned on his heel and straightened his posture and began to walk away from Dean again.

"Draco, seriously. I want to help you."

"Dean, seriously I don't need it."

"You say that now, but-"

"Why Dean? Why? Why are you so hell-bent on worrying over me? I'm an adult and am very capable of taking care of myself."

"I'll be very straight-forward with you."

"Please."

"Well…you remind me of myself."

"What the bloody hell? How so? Besides the obvious reasons that would possibly be offensive if I further elaborated. I'm actually rather amused." Dean let out a deep chuckle, glad to see a bit of the old Draco resurface.

"I really don't want to talk about all of this here…"

"You know what, Thomas, I'll see you around. As a matter of fact, no I won't. Have a good life." Dean watched as Draco successfully retreated. He contemplated just following and forcing Draco to let him in, but he figured that that would break several laws. Dean decided that it was sort of a lost cause and apparated to his own abode. He knew that Draco would come around. What other choice did he have?

Several months passed, not that Dean had paid much attention. He walked through the motions of his life as he always did. His façade was strongly intact.

Painting with Luna was always interesting. Luna was the one person that he let truly see him, for all that he was; broken, mistreated, misunderstood, angry.

She never judged him because, she too had suffered. Luna just had a way of always finding the good in every situation, even when all other people would only see the darkness.

A purple formation of dots currently rested on Luna's canvas. Loops and swirls connected the dots. Dean had learned to stop asking what exactly Luna was painting a long time ago. Sometimes she accomplished a piece so complex that everyone in the art world would have paid galleons to own the piece. On other occasions, Dean just scratched his head and sighed 'That's Luna for ya'.

"Thanks for the tea, Luna."

"I made it myself. Neville gave me some herbs from his garden. The chamomile and mint were lovely!"

"You still talk to Neville?"

"Yes, every now and again." Her sweet whisper of a voice made Dean want to wrap his arms around her.

"That's good. I swear I only talk to 4 people from Hogwarts since the Battle. I always wonder how everyone is, but then again, I don't care that much because I'm sure they don't really care about me."

"Dean, you really shouldn't have that outlook on life." Luna always knew what to say. She was right. It was time for Dean to release some of that pent up anger that he held inside, but each time he tried, someone always found a way to take advantage of his vulnerability and then the wall that blocked his emotions became thicker.

"Oh, Dean! By any chance did you get to read the prophet this morning?" Luna said, effectively getting his mind off of his past pain and regrets.

"I rarely read that rubbish."

"The cover story. It's about Draco." Dean raised an inquisitive brow. Luna stood from her stool and picked up the magical newspaper from her unique coffee table. There on the front cover were flames tearing apart an old house. Draco stood with his back to the camera. Dean gasped. He gripped the paper in his hands and began to read the article word for word. The details were completely awful.

"I can't believe someone would do this ! Sure, some people don't think he got what he deserved, but this is just terrible! Someone burned his home to the ground!"

"That's not the worst part."

"This is bullshit! Those aurors aren't gonna do anything to help him!" Luna gave Dean a questioning look. Maybe it was because he was normally not this worked up about anything. He normally just kept a cool, nonchalant attitude about himself. He understood why Luna seemed to doubt his sanity, but wrong is wrong. No one deserves to have everything taken from them.

"Maybe Harry will be able to help him?"

"You really think so? Harry'll only do what looks best for his image. If he were to help a Malfoy, he'd be done for, besides with Ron and Ginny always in his ear, he wouldn't be able to help him even if he wanted to."

"Why is everything so unfair?" Luna said in her characteristically monotone.

"I dunno, Luna. And it really sucks."

Dean waved goodbye to Luna later on that evening. He inhaled the autumn air and decided to walk to his small house, around 15 miles before you reached the Burrow. He only lived 20 minutes away from Luna via foot. He wanted to clear his head and just be empty. Emotions were a burden. All they did was fuck things up and damn was he fucked enough. He kept walking, the air enveloping him in a way that was immensely comforting. He enjoyed being alone, in his own head, his own space. He could do whatever he pleased and no one could judge him…or hurt him for being who he was.

As he approached the gate to his home, he felt something was different. Someone was close. He withdrew his wand and walked to the back of his house.

His eyes widened when he saw a figure in all black huddled on his back porch.

"I looked you up in the ministry registry. I hope you're not angry." He whispered. Dean stayed completely silent as he watched Draco. His eyes never left his lap as he spoke. Watching Draco so out of character made Dean slightly uncomfortable. He took a step back from the man to lean against the beam of his back porch.

"No, I'm not angry. Do you want to come inside?" Draco let out a sigh and Dean was almost certain he heard a sniffle, but Draco quickly covered the sound with a cough into his elbow.

"Thank you, but I'm only going to stay for a few minutes, I have to see about some business concerning my property." Draco pushed himself up and waited by the side of the door as Dean opened it.

"Please excuse the mess. I'm really into my art that sometimes I forget how messy it gets. You can take a seat anywhere there's space. Can I get you anything? Tea? Water?"

"Tea, please and thank you." Dean busied himself making tea the muggle way. He figured Draco would open up to him more if he wasn't directly in his face.

"I'm pretty sure you're aware of what's happened lately."

"If you're referring to your house being torched, them yes, I am aware." There was a long silence. Neither man spoke a word. The only sounds that were heard happened to be the water boiling, a clock ticking, and the soft hum of the muggle refrigerator in the kitchen. Then a tiny sob penetrated the silence so abruptly, that Dean didn't actually think he heard it. He whipped around and stared at Draco Malfoy. The blonde's head was in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. The tips of his ears were red. Dean reached for some tissues and brought them to the table in front of the distraught man.

"I'm usually not like this. I feel helpless. I feel so stupid! I feel like I've been screwed in the ass by life! See! I normally would never say anything like that!"

"Draco-"

"I don't know what to do…" He whispered in a barely audible tone. Dean's posture changed. He took a seat directly in front of the man in his kitchen.

"Dean, I've never said this to anyone and this is really hard for me." Draco looked up into the eyes of Dean Thomas.

"I need your help."

Please review! Hope you liked it! Will update shortly.