Always Loving You

AN: Well, I decided to continue posting this story here, even though I said that I dropped this.

So enjoy! Review, please!

Chapter Nine

Draco sat in the living room alone, nursing a glass of whisky in his hands. He didn't know how many he had already drunk, but it didn't matter. It was the middle of the night, and Harry and Hannah were sleeping tight.

He couldn't believe how fast his life had changed in these past few months. At some point, he had been sure that he would never be free from Voldemort, but Harry had finally saved them all.

He knew that people suspected him of working with the Dark Lord, but nobody had proof. Only ones who knew what he had been doing were Hannah, Severus and Harry. Draco knew that the first two would never betray him, but he wasn't so sure about Harry.

If things went down hill between them, Harry might consider about sending him to Azkaban. Well, Hannah would finally get the proper upbringing.

Caught up in his thoughts, he didn't hear that the door opened, so he had no time to hide his drink from them.

"I thought I might find you here."

Draco whirled around only to find Harry standing behind him looking at him through narrowed eyes.

"Yes, I was just having a drink. Care to join me?" he tried not to sound too drunk, although his words slurred a little bit.

"Why are you doing this, Draco?" Harry asked, rounding the couch. "Why are you torturing yourself like this?" Harry put his hand under Draco's chin and lifted it, so he was able to look at Draco's foggy eyes.

Draco pulled his face away from Harry's hand, looking down at the glass in his hands. "I've been doing this since I lost you," he said quietly, but he knew Harry could hear him in the otherwise silent room. "First, when I lost you, I lost everything I had; my life, dignity, freedom . . . You name it. Secondly, I couldn't raise Hannah properly. I ruined her life. She would be better off without me," Draco continued, wallowing in his self-pity and drunken misery.

"No, you can't blame yourself--"

Draco jumped up from the couch, coming nose to nose with Harry. "I can, Harry, and I will! Don't you come here to tell me what my life should be and what a loser I am! I don't need your pity!"

Harry's eyes flared with anger. "Do you think this has been easy for me!?" He spat his words on Draco's face, never taking his dangerously glowing eyes of his. "Every day I was prepared to face the news of your death! Every day I waited for you to walk through my door." He stopped in front of him, sighing. "I never lost hope. I knew you were alive. I knew you would come back to me dead or alive."

"Harry, I'm sorry--"

"Don't be. It isn't your fault that you couldn't come back to me. However, I'm telling you, be careful at what you do. You are ruining your life, Draco." With that, Harry walked out of the room.

Draco collapsed onto the couch near the fire. Tears of anger ran down his face. Grabbing his glass of whisky, he hurled it in the wall with an unsatisfying crash.