A/N: As I said in my chapters that I posted yesterday I have posted the first chapter of a new story. The chapters will be shorter for the most part. I hope you enjoy it. This first chapter is rather angsty.
Summary: This is about Draco and Harry having identical journals that they write their innermost thoughts in. They soon realize that what they are writing is not there in the morning, but someone else's journal entry is there. They never use names, only nicknames so it is hard for them to figure out who's entries are being written into their own journal. Eventually they are writing at the same time and begin conversing through the journals. Eventually they fall for each other.
Disclaimer: Not mine, JK Rowling and Warner Brothers and all other affiliates.
Chapter 1: Happy Birthday Harry
It was my first real birthday after the war. I was turning nineteen and nothing seemed to have gotten any better since my final year at Hogwarts. I was officially on my own living in a flat in the middle of Wizarding London. I wasn't ready to go back to Grimmauld yet nor was I sure if I'd ever be able to go back. There were too many memories, but I couldn't quite let go of the place or the memories. That had been an issue for all of seventh year, my real seventh year, technically eighth year if we are being specific. I was in my own world the entire time. Ron and Hermione were dating and my relationship with Ginny couldn't get back on track and we decided that it would be better to cut our losses and just be friends. It was better that way, for both of us. I was too messed up for her to get what she deserved out of a relationship.
I spent most of my days working at a bookstore with Hermione. It was just down the road from the Weasley's shop where Ron and George worked together. I had planned on becoming an auror and I was extended an immediate spot in the next training, but my head isn't in the right place right now for that so I declined the offer. Kingsley explained that when I was ready I had a spot. I appreciated it, but I didn't know if I would ever take him up on the offer.
My nights were a bit harder to navigate because I was alone a lot of the time which was okay for me, but it got my head thinking about things that one shouldn't think about when they're alone. I watched mindless TV, drank half a bottle of firewhiskey a night, and went to bed. Then I'd start all over again. I put on a happy face whenever I was around my friends. They were all moving on and happy so there was no reason for them to see me in my true state of despair.
I had a lot of people that I knew who lived in the same building as me. Neville lived two floors below and had a terrace filled with gardens. Ron and Hermione lived on my floor, in separate flats of course, but it seemed ridiculous since they were in each other's flats every day, often staying the night. Luna lived three floors above me and surprisingly Malfoy lived there as well. Of course he had a huge penthouse apartment on the top floor. I was surprised to see him when he moved in because I never expected him to live anywhere, but the Manor. I heard from Luna that he moved because it was too hard to be there. I found myself surprisingly pitying him. I couldn't imagine living in a house where the darkest wizard ever to live had set up camp and tortured and killed several people. I didn't see him much and when I did we were polite to one another and by polite I mean we nodded at one another and then went about our day. I had no idea what he was doing nowadays for a job or if he even worked. I never asked anyone about him though. I tried to push my occupation of Malfoy's life out of my head so I didn't end up getting sucked in like sixth year.
Even though we all lived in the same building I rarely saw any of them outside of work or within the building. They all had their own lives just like I did and it was okay that we didn't hang out, most of the time, but I could definitely use a distraction tonight. Tonight was a particularly bad night. Dennis Creevy had come into the store today to buy a gift for his father. His birthday was exactly a week after my own which Dennis shared with me excitedly. I had a hard time looking at him knowing that his brother had died essentially for me. It didn't make sense how forgiving his parents were. It was almost as if I had been the one holding the wand that had caused Colin's death.
I choked back a sob and downed my glass of firewhiskey. Tonight was a full bottle night and it was nearly gone. I stumbled towards my kitchen to get the last drops of it when someone knocked on my door. I glanced at the clock noting that it was only seven and I was already wasted, on my birthday no less. I set my cup down roughly and walked to the door. I threw it open and my mouth dropped open in surprise when I saw Malfoy standing on my doorstep.
He looked me over as if figuring out how drunk I truly was. "Evening Potter, may I come in?" He drawled.
I didn't really have a response. I hadn't spoken to him in like two years so at this moment I was too shocked at his presence to even know what to say. I stepped to the side as he swaggered in because that's how he walked with a noticeable swagger. I closed the door and tried to mimic his walk, but failed miserably. I ended up giggling like a fool, which caused him to turn and look at me with a raised eyebrow.
"Are you drunk?" He asked looking me over in a way that he never had before. He looked concerned. He glanced into my open kitchen and saw my nearly empty bottle of firewhiskey on the counter. I didn't have to look to know what he saw. I blushed despite feeling angered by his reaction.
"It's my birthday, I'm celebrating," I replied as I walked, well more like staggered, into my kitchen and poured the rest of the firewhiskey into my cup.
"Why aren't you out with your friends?" Malfoy asked me. I scoffed and rolled my eyes. He was standing a few feet away from me, leaning against the island. He crossed his arms and his ankles and stared at me with a curious look. I didn't like it much. I couldn't remember a time when Draco and I had been this close and not trying to kill each other.
"My friends are too busy to go out on my birthday. Ron and Hermione have a prior engagement that they just couldn't get out of. Neville is at a herbology conference and Luna is visiting her father so that leaves me to celebrate the beginning of my nineteenth year alone," I explained without an ounce of kindness in my explanation. I was surprised that I didn't slur over my words considering how much I'd had to drink. Only a matter of time that my body would become immune to it, guess I'll have to find something new. Maybe muggle tequila or something like that, I mused to myself.
Malfoy gave me another pitying look and I wanted to spell it right off his face, but then I remembered that I left my wand in my bedroom. I must be drunker than I thought. My wand was never far out of my reach.
"Well, I'm here, how about we celebrate together?" Malfoy asked.
I stared at him, my mouth opening and closing like a fish. Malfoy just offered to spend my birthday with me? What the hell? Did the planets align and I had missed it? I cocked to my head to the side as I tried to remember seeing an article about the planets aligning. Malfoy continued to stare at me like I had two heads. For all I knew I probably did. I found that funny because suddenly I burst out in laughter. I laughed so hard that I began to cry. Big alligator tears like Hagrid's fell from my eyes. I couldn't stop. I was clutching my side with one hand and my other was wiping my eyes trying to stop my tears. I cried and cried for what felt like hours. I was crying so much that I barely noticed that I was on the floor and Malfoy was kneeling next to me placing an arm around me in an awkward way. He was trying to console me which made me cry even harder. It was like everything came pouring out of me then. Everything that I had been holding in, pushing to the back of my mind came bursting forward. Every face, every cry, every death all came forward. I cried and cried all the while Malfoy kept an arm around me and muttered soothing words that I didn't understand.
I was so far gone that I didn't even notice that my door had opened and Hermione and Ron were standing in my kitchen as well, frantic over what was wrong with me. I think Malfoy had explained to them what happened even though I don't think he understood it. He hadn't done anything wrong. He had been nice for once. He had been trying to reach out to me and how did I return the favor? By crying like a baby. I didn't even realize that I had stopped crying until I could hear them talking to each other.
"What are we going to do? What's happened to him?" Hermione asked her voice strained from her own tears.
"You're his friends shouldn't you know what's going on with him?" Malfoy asked in a biting tone.
"Malfoy don't talk to her that way. Harry has never been like this around us. I've never seen him cry, ever," Ron seethed turning red and getting in Malfoy's face.
"Back off Weasley. You are asking questions that you should already know the answer to. Hell, I'm not even Harry's friend and I know exactly what's wrong with him," Malfoy said his voice strong and confident. He had called me Harry without a snide tone. He had used my first name. It was amazing to hear that.
"Well if you know so much about our best friend then why don't you tell us?" Ron replied rudely.
I heard Malfoy sigh. I realized then that he was still kneeling next to me with his hand resting against my back. At some point during my fit I had ended up on my side with my cheek pressed against the floor. The top of my head was resting against Malfoy's thigh and I realized how strange this must look to Ron and Hermione who I figured were sitting against the opposing counters. Malfoy, my nemesis, resting his hand on my back consoling me and protecting me with ferocity. I'm sure it was quite the picture to see.
"Obviously something set him off today. Can either of you think of anything that would set him off?" Malfoy asked.
Hermione and Ron exchanged looks and shook their heads in response. I heard Malfoy sigh again and I imagined him pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance. "I was having lunch near your store today and I saw Dennis Creevy go in. Within a few minutes Harry came out looking rather upset and I saw him leave. I put two and two together," Malfoy explained. Amazing how he hit the nail on the head with just that minor explanation.
"Dennis didn't say anything to upset Harry. I was there when they talked," Hermione countered.
"He didn't have to say anything. Look at Dennis through Harry's eyes. What would he see?" Malfoy asked.
"Colin," Hermione whispered. I heard her gasp and I knew she was looking at me again. I choked on another sob willing the tears not to come. I didn't want to cry anymore. I didn't want to feel anymore. I wasn't even sure I wanted to exist anymore. I didn't like that I was having another birthday when those who died for me should be celebrating birthdays and I should have been forever seventeen. Not turning nineteen today.
"I don't understand how that would bring him to this point," Ron responded in confusion.
"Life is moving on for everyone, but Harry. Everywhere he looks he is reminded of the war and all those that were lost. He can't close his eyes without seeing all their faces. Can either of you imagine what that must be like for him? You would if you actually cared enough to ask," Malfoy replied.
I bit my lip at his chastising of my friends. How could he know so much about my feelings and my thoughts? I barely looked at him and he knew all this about me.
"Of course we care about Harry! He never acts like the war still bothers him! He always has a happy expression on his face whenever we see him! How are we to know that something was wrong?" Hermione demanded. I heard her stand and stomp her foot in frustration.
"It's in his eyes. I see it every time we acknowledge each other in the mornings. Harry needs help," Malfoy replied quietly.
For some reason his words set me off. It pissed me off that he knew so much about me without saying a damn word to me and now he was saying that I needed help? It pissed me off. I sat up quickly all the blood rushing from my head leaving me a bit lightheaded. I felt my stomach roll as the firewhiskey churned angrily. I glared at Malfoy through puffy, red rimmed eyes.
"How can you possibly know so much about me when you never talk to me until tonight?" I demanded. I wasn't sure if I was making much since.
"Harry it's not hard to understand you when you wear all your emotions on your sleeve. You need to do something. This is not you. This is not the Harry Potter that I fought in school," Malfoy said in a soothing voice as he gestured to the empty bottle of firewhiskey.
I was seething. I was furious. "You want to see emotions? Fine, I'll show you emotions! Fuck you Malfoy! You come into my flat tonight ruining a perfectly good evening of self pity, spouting off about how you supposedly know me so well! You know what I need? I need you to get the fuck out of my house! All of you!" I yelled. I stormed over to my front door and yanked it open. I was glaring at them all and breathing heavily. I felt like I was going to throw up all over my Welcome mat. All three of them stared at me shock and worry evident on their faces.
Malfoy stood first and slowly walked towards me. He looked into my eyes which made me feel uncomfortable. I had never seen him this way and it truly bothered me. "Don't do anything stupid. You're too good for that," He muttered to me. I bit my lip fighting back another yell.
Ron followed suit and left without saying a word. I don't think he knew what to say. He was confused and worried and hurt at the way I was acting. Hermione walked towards me last her bottom lip trembling and her hands shaking. She had tears streaming down her cheeks. "Harry, please. Don't hurt yourself," Hermione whimpered looking up at me with pleading eyes.
"Get out," I responded icily. She stared at me for a second more before she let out a sob and walked out of my flat. I slammed the door and locked it. I ran to my room grabbing my wand so I could cast as many locking charms on the door as I could think of. I stormed into the kitchen downing the leftover firewhiskey and throwing the bottle across the room as well as the glass. Then I sunk to the floor and cried, willing my life to end as I lied there.