Hello all! Well this is a story that popped into my head just before I left Japan to come home and it cried out to be written. I realize this first chapter isn't much, but it is needed for laying the foundation and the fact that I am too tired to write more (damnable jet lag). I even make a cameo appearance in this fic! (See if you can find me). This is dedicated to the absolutely gorgeous bartender I saw in Quest (a bar) in Roppongi (Tokyo) who looked exactly like Draco Malfoy and it took all the strength my friend had to keep me from jumping over the bar at him! So read and review! I write based on reviews and no flames!  No own. No sue.

            Draco Malfoy smirked as he wiped a glass and wondered at how his life had turned out this way. Who would have thought all those years ago at Hogwarts that he would end up here, doing this? Who ever would have thought that muggle hating Malfoy would end up being a bartender in a simple Muggle bar? He shook his head as he peered through the smoky din and haze at the Saturday night crowd. Over to his right, he saw two rather inebriated girls, one blonde, one brunette, completely wasted and drinking water to sober up, comparing him to one of his fellow bartenders and deciding on who would get who. He smiled again as the brunette claimed him as her own, knowing it would never happen. One, she likely would remember nothing come the morning, and two, she was the wrong gender for him.

            Yes he, Draco Malfoy was gay. A pouf. A queer. An arse-licker. A fag. He knew all the names, had been called them several dozen times in the close minded society of the world and it was things like that which made him miss living in the wizarding world for at least they were more tolerate of such things. It had been many long years since he had been with anyone, since he had lain with anybody because of the one he could not forget. The one he let get away.  He could admit it now, years later, admit that he had been wrong, had been foolish. He couldn't say the words, couldn't tell the truth and when he finally realized what he had, what he truly wanted, and the one he loved had left him.

            He had left the wizarding world shortly after, living a life of exile. Strangely enough he stayed in touch with Hermione Granger and through her found out all the information on his beloved Harry. The emotions he felt, even now five years later still astounded him. Harry had left him standing on a hill just before their disastrous graduation, had told him if he couldn't say the words then, he would never be able to and damn wasn't he a fool for not listening to everyone and telling them they were wrong about him and why oh why did he have to fall in love with a evil embracing git like Malfoy?

            Only words, but words that had hurt him nonetheless. They had torn through his heart and soul. Through the entire war, Harry had believed in him, Harry had never doubted him, never once called him evil and stood before the world, a sword and shield held in front of his love to defend him when Draco could not withstand the constant barrage of accusations. When Harry had called him evil, he had snapped, broken and decided that if HARRY could call him evil then it must be so. He had fallen, oh how he had fallen. Sank so deep into the dark and committed acts so dark and terrible that he would never receive absolution for it. He was the most heinous of blasphemers, the worst of all sinners. It didn't matter that he had repented, it didn't matter that he was sorry and made a public apology when Malfoys don't do such things. Nothing mattered. All that was good and pure in him vanished the day Harry left him. He had submitted to getting the Dark Mark, to placing his trust in a cause he didn't believe in. Not even Ron or Hermione knew why Harry had suddenly turned against him, only that he had. The result: Draco's heart ripped out of his chest and thrown on the ground for the world to see.

            He had been forgiven of course. He had been redeemed in the eyes of the world, had been absolved and offered multiple chances to start anew with a clean slate. Yet the wizarding world held too many memories for him, too much pain, too much torment.  Harry had vanished, no one ever certain how he had survived the final battle for he refused to talk about it. According to Hermione he was a recluse, a hermit. He saw no one, not even his old friends. His life was shrouded in mystery, and it was unclear as to whether he lived in the wizarding world or the muggle one. People tried to hunt him down, to find him, but Draco of all people could have told them that if one Harry James Potter didn't want to be found, not a soul would find him until  he was damn good and ready.

            "Draco, quitting time for you man. It's already 3 am!" one of his coworkers called out to him. "And besides you've been cleaning that same glass for twenty minutes!"

            "Sorry Jonah." Draco smiled as he put the glass down. "Must be more bagged out than I thought."

            "I noticed that." Jonah smirked as he noticed him staring at the two girls. "Which one will you take home tonight?"

            Draco shook his head. "Not for me, not this night Jonah. See you on Monday."

            "Ah yes, the joy of Mondays…the older crowd comes in to wash away the dust of the first day back." Jonah looked to the roof. "Don't save me from Mondays Draco, save me from life!" he grabbed Draco's collar in his hands and shook him.

            Draco laughed and gently disentangled his hands from him. "Stay out of the drink and you'll make it through. I have to go though, I need to get out of here." He untied his apron and waved a quick goodbye, leaving the two semi-sober girls sitting there on the stools as he wove his way through the drunken crowd to the safety of his car. He looked at the date and smirked. No wonder the memories hit him so hard and fast tonight, it was the anniversary of the day he got the note. One note from Harry in all these years. Harry had never asked him for a single thing during the time they were together, just took what Draco was willing to give, never asking for more no matter how badly he wanted to. It was two years to the day when Harry had left him and he had gotten a message from him. Draco carried it with him always, would even label it his most precious possession.

            Lost in memories as he drove to his flat, he let his mind drift back. After the war Hermione had taken the shaken Draco into her muggle home and let him heal. Draco never fully recovered from the acts he had done during the war, but in the quiet solitude of her home he found himself able to function. He felt, as always that part of him had been torn away and he'd never get it back.  Was it deserved or wasn't it? What had he done to deserve this treatment? All he had ever done was give his heart, but the words could never come out of his mouth. He remembered…

            "Draco listen, you and I obviously have different goals and priorities in life."

            "Harry, you can't possibly be saying…"

            "I'm just saying that perhaps you were right in the beginning…you know, about us being together and how we're too different."

            "That was over a year ago!"

            "It doesn't matter. You must feel trapped in this relationship with the needy little Gryffindor, your mortal enemy, and it's me to boot! We both know that if your father EVER found out about this…"

            "I told you I would handle it!" Draco felt his temper rising at this.

            "No one will accept that we are gay, that we are together…"

            "Since when do you give a damn what the world thinks?"

            "You can't give me what I want, what I NEED Draco. I deserve better than you, I am better than you."

            "How can you say that, after all we've shared?" Draco heard the pleading in his voice and didn't care. His Harry…his raison d'être…

            "We never even slept together Malfoy, don't make such a big deal out of it."

            Why was his voice so cold? Why were his eyes shuttered against him? What had happened to change him? Just last night he had held him in his arms and prayed to all the Forces that Be that Harry knew he loved him. He couldn't say the words. Malfoys never spoke those words.  "Harry what happened to you?"

            "None of you bloody business you wanker!" Harry snapped angrily. "It's over! You're evil Malfoy and bad for me, so just…just go rot in hell you…evil git!" he turned and walked away, leaving Draco standing on the hill, a slight breeze fluttering his robes as he stared hurt and bewildered at the retreating back of Harry.

            "But…I love you." He whispered softly, knowing the words came too late.

           Draco wiped a tear from his eye as he remembered that day. Oh the pain had been more than he could handle, more than he could stand. To this day he never knew what caused the sudden change in Harry, or why Harry had never spoken or looked at him again. He had no need to read the message, he knew the words by heart.


If you love me, set me free

For you and I weren't meant to be

If you cared, then let me go

I can't say I love you, I just don't know

If you want me, give me time

For I need, to make up my mind

If you need me, then back away

I don't know what I feel, I just can't say

If you hate me, then let me fly

Alone without you, I have to try

If you are mad, then please forgive me

I never meant to hurt you, and I'm sorry.

            There was no other note attached to it. He had gotten it two years after the break-up. At first he was livid and furious, at first he tried to burn it, then to shred it, to disintegrate it before deciding to keep it. He sighed as he pulled the car into the parking lot and heading for the lift. He missed his Harry, and nothing on this world or any other would change that. However, he knew that after five years…it was time to move on.

            Harry Potter stared at himself through reddened eyes and shook his head in disgust at the image. Was this what the golden Boy Who Lived and Kept on Frigging Living was meant for? Was this really his life? For just a moment he had held something precious and delicate and pure in his hands, and, before he even realized its rarity he had thrown it away. Smashed it and obliterated it. He had lost his dragon through his own words and actions, had lost the one thing that really mattered, the one thing he truly cared about. All that was left for him was pain. Pain and the emptiness of a broken heart.

            Hermione Weasley grinned a very evil grin as she rubbed her hands together and ignored her husband backing away, a look of fear on his face. "It's time to end all the lies Ronald." She said in a firm voice.

            "Oh Lord." Ron moaned. "You only use my full name when it's something bad."

            "Not a bit." She smirked. "However, I am going to rebuild the lives of those who didn't have enough sense to embrace what life gave them and threw it away like the morons they were. I will need help for this, not just yours but several others. I am going to make them happy like hell!"

            Ron groaned and let his head drop to his hands. When his wife got that glint in her eye, no one was safe.

            I realize it was slightly confusing. Anyone want to read more? Review and let me know! The next chapter will be much, MUCH longer and will live up to the rating I swear! So…to continue or not?