XXX It Stands for Nothing

by The Crimson Sheath

A haunting story is told by a mother to her daughter, the ending in reality is not the ending in the story. . .

There is nothing to be said for what happened that night. Why was it that he and she were together? When did it all begin? Why did it happen? All valid questions…but you're asking the wrong person. Don't ask Ronald Weasley, he'll just tell you that they were liars and thieves. Don't ask Harry Potter, he's to drunk now to even remember that night. Don't ask Ginny Weasley, she'll just tell you to fuck off. Don't ask anybody. There is no one to ask that will give you a clean, true answer. Well, for one thing, you can't ask, but you can listen. And another, what's the point of traveling around the world trying to find the answers to a story when they're sitting right in front of you? Well, I'll tell you. Listen carefully, because I'm only going to say this once. When I've finished, I'm not going to repeat anything. No questions, no interruptions. Just listen.

Now, it all started thirteen years ago in my sixth year at Hogwarts. I was sixteen. Voldemort was still at large. My friends were slipping away. I was falling for my best friend. It was all pretty normal…well as normal as it could have gotten in those dark times. At some times I found it refreshing to just run down to the Black Lake and forget everything that was happening.

Then one night, 'he' was there. I didn't know why, and I didn't want to know. I hid behind a tree to watch him. He was crying. At first I thought, 'Leave him be. He can go die in a hole for all I care.' But then I realized that by leaving him there, I was becoming him. So I walked over to him and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. He jumped at my touch. He didn't look up. I sat next to him and began to stroke his hair. At first he was tense, thinking I was going to hurt him. Then, as my arms found their way around his body, pulling him to me, he relaxed. He buried his head in my shoulder and cried until there was nothing left. It scared me that he was being so open with me at the time. I didn't really know what to do.

When he pulled away, he looked into my eyes and began to stroke my cheek. My own tears fell from my eyes then. Neither of us knew why, but he both felt complete and utter sorrow that night. We both shared what no one else could share. Sure, Harry Potter had felt unbelievable sorrow, but it wasn't exactly like this. This was the kind of pain that only the love of someone you loved yourself could heal.

We didn't know we loved each other at the time. We just thought we had shared one sad little encounter and that was it. We both never spoke of it again. But there was a renewed respect between us. We no longer sought each other out just to throw barbs at one another. We didn't call each other names or cast hexes behind each other's backs. It was peaceful.

Then it happened again. This time he told me everything. He told me how he hated what was happening. He told me how he couldn't take it anymore. He told me that he loved me. He told me he wanted to save me from everything. He told me to never leave him.

At this I did not know what to say. I was confused, to say the least, but I knew that on some level I knew what he was talking about. I told him I didn't know how I felt about him. All the years we had spent hating each other didn't make it any easier. But I told him I would try. I told him I would try to love him. Little did I know that by the end of the week I would be head-over-heals in love.

However, we would never be truly happy. During the final war between Lord Voldemort and Harry Potter, a rogue Unforgivable made it's way towards us. He saved me from dying that night. He took it for me, and since then he has never been the same. The pain it caused him was so great and so horrible, that he lost his mind. The witch or wizard that cast it was killed, I know, but the spell itself never lifted. Maybe it was because of his own inner pain. I don't' know. I do know that he asked me to kill him. He asked me to take his life and live happily ever after without him. I couldn't do it. So he took my wand in my hand and cast the Killing Curse on himself. He died that night for me, and I have lived my entire life without him.

He left me that night, and I haven't been happy since. I have lived my life as if I were a shadow. I have secluded myself from friends and family. All I do now is wait for death to take me and leave me in peace. I wait for the day when I shall see his face again. I wait for the night when I shall never have to wake again.

Now there is my tale. I have never told it before, and it shall never be told again. Maybe now I can finally rest. Maybe now I can finally sleep that endless sleep that will bring me to him at last. I do not know. All I know is that my love of life died that night when his heart stopped beating. I have waited all this time for death, and when if finally comes, I shall welcome it with grace and happiness. The end has finally come.

"And so she closed her eyes and disappeared. The man she was talking to stared at the empty seat before him in wonder. He had no idea what had just happened, but he had recorded the whole thing and planned on writing a famous book about 'The Lady Death.' He even looked up the woman's name, but he found no record of her existence. He went home that night and began to recount her tale. It made him sad just to think about it. But he knew that the rest of the world should know of this woman's pain and of her suffering, just as he now knew. Her memory would live on forever."

"And is that the end of the story, mom?"

"Yes dear, it is. And because of his famous book, that woman's love has lived forever. It's it romantic?"

"Yes, it really is, mommy. I want a love like that. Can I have a love like that when I grow up?"

"Of course dear. Of course."

And Hermione Granger kissed her daughter goodnight, pulled the covers up over her shoulders, and turned down the lights. She closed the door behind her and walked down the long, illustrious hall to her own bedroom, where her husband lay waiting.

"Minerva get off to bed alright?" His eyes were the coolest silver ever seen. She climbed into bed next to him, kissing his shoulder gently.

"Guess which story she wanted to hear."

He closed his eyes and sighed. You know, we never should have told that that story to begin with. It's just a fairy-tale that you, I might add, made up. That is nothing like how it actually happened."

"Is that right?" She moved her lips to his, branding him as hers. His arms came around her and pulled her close, his fervent want for her pouring off him in waves.

"Yes, it is right. We did not fall in love in our sixth year. We fell in love after Harry had died, then come back to life, the killed Voldemort and married Ginny. If I remember correctly, you were engaged to Ronald Weasley when you fell in love with me. Isn't that right?"

"Yes, that is right, but that is not the point. The point is that you and I fell in love despite our differences. The point is that we were able to make a beautiful little girl who just can't wait to get her letter from Hogwarts. Which house do you think she'll end up in?"

He took a deep breath and thought for a moment. "Well, if she's anything like me, she'll end up in Slytherin. If she's anything like you, and I know she is, she'll end up in Gryffindor. Then again, she may end up in Hufflepuff, with the brains she's got and all. What do you think?"

"I think that you are precisely right. Now, kiss me." And he did. He kissed her until there her lips were numb and her breath was ragged. When he finally did pull away, she was panting and left wanting for more. "Don't do that. I want more."

"Not tonight. Minerva is just down the hall and we have to get up early tomorrow. We have to get to Hogwarts to begin the year with all those new first-years and all the new Dragon Riding lessons that have been added. We are in for some serious trouble." He enfolded her in his arms and rested his chin on her head. "Let's just go to sleep. Tomorrow night. I promise."

"Alright. But not an hour later." He chuckled and she giggled before he switched off the light and curled in closer. They fell asleep, arm in arm, their daughter dreaming peacefully just a few yards away. Gryffindor and Slytherin had finally learned to get along…and because of that…they had made a beautiful baby girl.

Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger had loved longer and harder than anyone they knew. They had been through the worst times and the best, but they had been through it together. Their love would outlast all others. It was a love to be remembered.