A World Without You

Photographs

He walked though the hall, looking at the various pictures in the main hall of his large house. In his hand was a glass of Jack Daniels, diluted with orange juice. He normally wasn't a drinker, but he thought this day deserved it. It was his fifth anniversary, he was alone, and he wanted to get as drunk as possible and nothing did that better then Jack.

The pictures were in chronological order. She was like that, always having order. It was one of those things he hated yet loved about her. It was a remnant of her childhood, something his life had always lacked.

The first picture was a young one of him, perhaps only twelve years old. He sneered at it. In the picture he stood tall, still happily ignorant of all that life could do to a man. Still unknowing of the feeling of rejection, still a spoiled brat who got all he wanted. He hated the child that stood in that picture, sneering right back at him, for he could never go back to blissful ignorance.

The picture next to it was from the same year, but of her. She smiled innocently at him, her brothers behind her smiling down at her. There was Percy, who died before his family found out he was truly on their side, Fred and George, eternal jokers who now ran a joke shop, and Ron, who hated him then, and no doubt was wishing he was a potion ingredient which needed chopping. Then there was Harry, the one person who had held everything he ever wanted, but had hardly anything of which he had been given. He laughed as he refilled his glass, this time without the juice. People thought he had everything. They never knew, and never would as long as he lived.

Family. She had always had that, always wanted that. She would defend her family no matter the cost, only once going against them. He looked down at the simple, yet elaborate gold ring on his finger. He sighed. They had both given up a lot to be together, and now it was falling apart.

He moved down the row of pictures, past colleges of more school pictures. The next picture he stopped at was one of him and her six years ago. They had been dating then. She was a student at the Medical College and he was a starting out as a second string seeker for the Chudley Cannons. Granted, that had made him have to actually have a conversation with Ron, the Cannon's keeper, but it did have its benefits.

He had promised himself then he wouldn't rely on the Malfoy fortune for everything, he would work for an honest pay and rely on himself. He would then by a house where he could live, marry her, have two or three kids, and live to a good old age, and then die within hours of his wife. His plans got shot to hell several times.

Once again, he moved down the line to another picture, this one of their wedding. That had gone over like hell. His father had boycotted it, and their mothers got into a cat fight over the color of the flowers. Her father had nearly refused to walk her down the aisle. Then Ron, like usual, tried to beat him to a bloody pulp with the assistance this time of Harry and the twins. He had spent days with Bill and Charlie with them interviewing him like they were investigating him as a suspect. Percy refused to talk to him until the day of the wedding and only then to throw insults. Oh yeah, the wedding went smoothly. He had been so glad just to have her in his arms afterwards.

The next picture was of him on his first day as main seeker for the Cannons. She had gone to everyone one of his games then. Of course her brother was also on the team, but she always cheered for him. She was his personal cheerleader, always there to hold him up.

He refilled his glass once again, and looked at another picture. Damien's first day in this world. They had wanted to have children. He wanted more since he was an only child, and she wanted less then he wanted because of her large one. They had finally decided on having two, a boy and a girl. However that was before the doctors told them that she shouldn't try to get pregnant again since it could kill her.

She had been so happy when she found out she was pregnant. She had gone to one of his practices and met him on the field and told them. He smiled as he remembered the happy memory. She loved Damien. She was the perfect mother, and deserved every child she could have. But her pregnancy with Damien was not an easy one and she lost a lot of blood during the delivery. She was the first Malfoy to have a C-section. She had to in order to live. She had been so disappointed to find out that she couldn't have any more. She wanted a little girl of her own to spoil.

He sighted and leaned his head up against the wall. Had that been where it all went wrong? After Damien was born, she stopped going to his games all the time. She seemed to grow distant from her as the years passed. And that was only two years ago. His son was starting to look a lot like him, only with his mother's eyes. He already planned on becoming a seeker like his dad, as well as a Slytherin. He couldn't be more proud of him, and really didn't care if he got sorted into Gryffindor. He preferred Slytherin, but he had broken every other Malfoy tradition, why not let his child break that one.

He swore and punched the wall, turning around and sliding down it, his glass of whiskey spilling on the floor. He loved her, would do anything for her. He even came up with the plan to surprise her with a romantic night, but then he found her gone. That had been two hours ago. She was off somewhere. He could honestly say he trusted her to remain faithful to him, but he wondered if she was thinking of other guys. After all she was pretty. Who wouldn't adore those brown eyes and freckled cheeks?

The obvious choice would be Harry. She had a crush on him when she was younger. Harry had everything he could ever offer her and more so he would defiantly be suitable. Then there was Oliver Wood. That guy could charm everything from a snake to a girl to a block of wood with his accent. She had heard Hermione, Kelly and her giggle over it.

He looked up as he heard the noise of someone entering the house. There she was, looking as if she had been crying. She walked pass him, almost to the stairs before she stopped and looked at him. Then she continued, not even speaking.

He swore softly at the floor before standing up. He still loved her, why couldn't she love him back anymore?