The "Draco Malfoy" Thing (Drarry)

Two Years Later...

"I love you, Harry Potter."  

"I love you, Draco Malfoy."  

Draco stared at the picture of him and Harry at the Weasley's Christmas party, it was his favorite picture of them in their small London apartment. He looked at the picture with a painful fondness. He clutched the large suitcase he had packed by the door as he left the apartment for the last time. 

As he walked down the street, he thought of how Harry would react when he woke up in a few short hours to find Draco and all of his stuff gone from their home. He'd of course left a note, but it wouldn't be long before Harry put together where Draco had gone.

Draco heard a tapping sound on his bedroom window late at night. Harry didn't seem stirred by the tapping, so Draco got out of bed to let the carrier owl in. The owl held a small letter in his beak, it was addressed to him, and carried a familiar stamp over the seal, the Malfoy family crest. Draco broke the seal with a shaky hand. He slowly read through his mother's letter. She was telling him that his father had broken out of prison, along with half a dozen other Death Eaters.  Draco felt a wave of fear rush over him as he dropped the letter and sunk back onto the bed.

If his father was out of prison, his safety was gone, which meant he would be putting Harry, and everyone else he loved, in danger. He quickly disposed of the letter, tried to put it out of his mind, but after a week, he still couldn't forget.

Draco rushed down the empty city streets, feeling the small ring box in his pocket like a time bomb, waiting to break him apart. For a long while, he tried to convince himself to turn around, that there was nothing that could come between him and Harry, but he knew he was wrong. Lucius was just one small part of the terror. The rest was his fear of himself, what he would do, how he would react if he was ever the one responsible for Harry getting hurt. It would destroy him, take him back to the small scared kid he was three years ago.

Draco stumbled down the sidewalk as the tears started flowing. He sat down at the nearest bus station and continued to weep. He pulled the box out of his pocket, and examined the gold engagement band sitting inside. He'd saved for months to buy that ring, kept the money out of sight to Harry wouldn't notice. He was going to propose in a few weeks, on their anniversary. Hermione helped him ring shop, while Ron kept Harry busy. It took several outings for him to find the perfect ring, when he finally did, he was so excited he almost proposed that night. Draco put the ring back in its box and shoved in in his pocket before apparating out of the city. 

He arrived a few moments later outside of a hotel in Paris that his family used to visit when he was a child. He walked up to the night manager, "Do you have any rooms available? Any will do."

About ten minutes later, he was sitting alone in the hotel's smallest suite, desperately trying to come up with some scenario that ends well for him, and for his relationship. But the headache was in vain; once Harry read that letter, it was over, they'd never speak again, Harry would probably kill him given the chance. Even if Harry wasn't angry with him, if he some how found a way to understand why Draco did what he did, there as still Lucius to deal with. 

Draco laid down on the bed and forced himself to slip into a fitful sleep, full of dreams of the Boy Who Lived.