A.N: This is a one shot, not connected to any story. I was sitting listening to music when I just started writing and this came out. Please review, even to say that it's completely rubbish. If you review this work, I'll review yours.
Disclaimer – I don't own Harry Potter unless, wait, there's Hedwig at my window with a letter, it says I do own Harry Potter. Then she starts pecking me and I wake up. The letter is on my knee. I read it – You still don't own him sucker! Great.
Summary: One shot DHr. When Hermione's friends find out she is dating Draco, they told his father, who killed him. This is her feelings. Rated PG-13 because of topic very gloomy.
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LostI stepped away from his grave. Tears in my eyes, my hair a mess and my clothes tatty. After he died I stopped living. I'm lost. Why would they tell him? Why did they condemn him to death? He was seventeen; he had his whole life ahead of him.
I had tried to go back to a normal life afterwards, but I couldn't. I went to lessons, but I'd break down in the middle of them. People would glare at me in the corridors. They say it was my fault he died.
But it was them. My so-called friends. I can't look at them now. Harry the bloody boy who lived, but now I wish Voldemort had killed him.
I can't carry on. I need him, how can I live when he can't? It's not fair. I stop here; it's a place about a mile from the castle. It's where people gather before Hogsmeade trips. I'll show them.
I take a small vile from my bag. It's a potions bottle. In it is a poison – the breath of life. Strange name for such a deadly poison. It doesn't matter though. Soon I'll be happy. Soon I'll be with him.
So this is it. I raise the vile to my lips. It tastes like honey and rose petals, but in the back of my throat, it burns. My legs feel like lead and I sit down. I place a small note on the ground, before laying down in an eternal sleep. The not is a final memory of me:
Hermione Granger,
Lost.