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Draco Malfoy,
We are very sorry to inform you that your mother, Narcissa Malfoy, was found dead this morning of a heart attack. We express our most sincere sympathy.
The Ministry of Magic---------------------
He ran as fast as he could. Before he knew it he was outside and nearing the Forbidden Forest. He knew if he went in there he would probably die. Draco couldn't bring himself to care.
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Hermione watched as the sap dripped off the faery tree she was studying. She had always wanted to examine these trees and see why faeries flocked to these trees and no others. She began to walk back to the castle when she heard a muffled sob.
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Draco finally stopped running. He fell to his knees, and, finally giving up his pride, began to cry. He should have seen it; he should have known; he should have been with her more; it was his fault.
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Hermione stared openly at what she saw, concern in her eyes. Draco Malfoy kneeling in the middle of the Forbidden Forest, crying his heart out. If he did, in fact, have one.
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Draco looked at the girl in front of him. He saw the worry, sympathy, concern, and pity in her eyes. He felt more tears slide down his face. That was when it happened. He felt comforting arms around him. He couldn't remember the last time someone had hugged him.
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Hermione couldn't help but hug him. He seemed so sad, so lonely, so broken. She looked into his grief-stricken gray eyes and felt a wave of sympathy.
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"Why?! Why do you care?! I'm evil! I killed her! The only one who understood me and I killed her! Why don't you hate me?! Hate me," Draco's voice trailed off into a whisper. "Hate me, hate me, hate me…"
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Hermione held him tighter and whispered, "I can't. I can't hate you Draco."
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"Why not?" he whispered softly.
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"Because I love you."
