Disclaimer: All the characters, places and things mentioned in this oneshot belong to JK Rowling. I do not own Harry Potter
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"What would humans be without love?" "Rare."
Life after the war wasn't how Hermione thought it would be. She was supposed sleep happily, instead she woke up to nightmares. She was supposed to celebrate, instead she locked herself in her room. She was supposed to be happy, but she simply wasn't.
Even though Voldemort had died so long ago, the war wasn't exactly over. Of course, there weren't any dark wizards terrorising the wizarding world, but each and every person involved in the war had their own demons that still haunted them.
She had tried so hard to get rid of them, and yet all of her attempts resulted in failure. She had tried to jump down from a building, but she discovered that her demons could fly. Apparently they could also swim, because drowning them had been impossible.
People around her were also grieving. They had buried their loved ones right alongside their feelings and were now moving on. Hermione had buried her lover that day and it had broken her.
Everybody was getting up, forcing their wounds to heal as they started a new life. She was desperate to leave this dark place with them, but she didn't posses enough energy to even talk, let alone move.
It had hit her hard when she realised that she would never hear him laugh again. She'd never melt into his embrace. She'd never see him again.
It stung, knowing that even after all these years, her friends didn't know of her relationship with him. She had to keep it a secret, she had promised him not to tell anybody and even if he was gone, she had to keep her promise.
She wondered what he would've done if he saw how she was coping. She was always in her room, curtains closed and lights off, a bottle of alcohol by her side. Sometimes, when she remembered, she'd summon some food to calm her stomach. Other times, she'd simply scream loudly, all the while clutching her hair helplessly as she cried her eyes out.
She'd believed that nobody could take him from her. And for the first time in her life, Hermione Granger had been absolutely wrong. The first few days after his funeral, she had convinced herself it was a nightmare and if she hurt herself bad enough, she'd wake up.
Obviously that didn't happen.
Her friends had worried about her at first. They didn't understand why she was acting so strange. Then, she had jumped and they had all left. All of them.
She still remembered their promises, their comforting words as they asked her if she was okay. As they stroked her hair. As they said that they'd always be there for her.
Bullshit.
Two days after the incident, when she was finally sent home, they never visited. They left her to her own devices, occasionally texting her on Harry's phone to ask her if she was okay. She hadn't replied.
Maybe if he'd been here, he wouldn't have left her. He would've stood right next to her, proud and tall as he ensured her that she'd get trough this. And perhaps if he were here, she wouldn't be standing in front of a mirror, her wand tightly pressed against her throat.
For the last time, she stared at her thin, pale and unhealthy body. For the last time, she ran her hand trough her frizzy hair. For the last time she met her own eyes in the mirror and she knew she was ready.
She had put this moment off for so long, scared and nervous, but it had simply gotten too much and she realised that she didn't have another way. She would be joining her lover soon, she'd be with him, wherever he was.
She closed her eyes, the images of his grey eyes flashing trough her head. His white-blonde, soft hair. His sweet, pale skin. His comforting smirk. His… everything.
She was ready for this, she was ready.
"I love you Draco." She murmured before she yelled the curse and a green light filled the room.
