Title: That of the Darkness
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: HermioneDraco
Summary: Him. Her. Imagine if the dark side wins.
A/N: They're in the dark, and that's all there is to it. Final Battle.
There were pain, and darkness. There were screams and shouts. There were humiliation and death.
Yet she could not stop them.
It was as if she was tied to something, chained in place. Hermione Granger was unable to move.
She was unable to save him.
She was helpless in this endless darkness, or what was left of it. They fought back, she tried to help, and yet countless of them fell down. Dead.
She was unable to save him from the dark, to stop him from becoming part of the dark. She knew, he was eventually going to give in, but she tried to hold on as long as she could, to hold him back with invisible ropes from her heart.
They never knew; all of Hogwarts never knew what they were. Between her and him, they were like star-crossed lover, another tale of Romeo and Juliet.
Him and her, they were undeniable lovers. Hiding from the pressures of society, and so they kept it a secret. Just between the two of them.
She was one of the ones from the Light, and he was meant to be the Dark. They knew that they would be separated, or perhaps even killed.
To love each other was to mutilate the bonds between them and their world, to create a distortion in their set minds. Hermione did not care then, she did not care now.
The Great Hall had lost its splendor; most of it destroyed. It had lost the warm light in it, and the lively laughter that used to echo inside its walls. It was dark, and bloody. Countless were dead; lying lifeless on the stone floor, holding their wands as if determined to rise and curse their enemies.
The Light had lost.
She looked around her; the final war was in its glorious blaze, fiery with the spirit and the enthusiasm. But even those high spirits and motivation could not bring them to win.
The boy-who-lived was dead, her best friends were dead. Yet the fight seemed to ignore her, in tears in her own world. She was invisible to them, another weakling that they didn't need to interfere.
Then she saw him, the boy; almost a man, that she loved. He stood, yet he was not protecting her, he was against her. Like how he was at the beginning.
Things changed, yet now they have returned to what they were before. The cause of the painful memories that would rip her mental world apart had brought flowers into every minute they spent together in each other's arms.
He was a mystery, and so he remained as such.
What remained of them was just the memories; uncared for. Their love was withered to nothing else but dust carried by the wind to unknown whereabouts. He did not glance once at her. Not yet.
She had believed him, yet now he had stabbed her in the back. Hermione wondered if their relationship too was a lie.
They were a distorted reflection of what was supposed to be, and now the mirror had shattered into unfixable pieces.
She remained ignored for the minutes to pass, and all the things happening around seemed to be slower by the second, every scream slashing straight into her guilt. She had let this happen, she could not stop him, and now he was as heartless as can be, a leader of the Dark.
A high-pitched scream tore the air that hung with intensity. And there goes Ginny. Hermione wanted to scream, to cry, but she was too weak to do anything but look.
Her perfect world had turned into a complete mess.
It became blurrier by the second; this is the end. Someone ran towards her, wands pointed and ready to kill her.
Where was he when he had promised to protect her? Where was he when she needed him?
He was right there, but instead of being her knight in shining armor, he was the perpetrator of them. She did not imagine that he would go this far, that he'd kill everything in his way. Or that his victims would include her.
Draco Malfoy stood in front of her, perhaps grimacing that he was about to lose her. That he was about to kill the owner of the lips he'd kiss with his own hands.
"Imagine if the dark side wins-" his voice was shaky, but she knew it was him; even between all the screams of mortification. She knew. But he did not say anything else, and she did not see the teardrops that glistened in the corner of his eyes.
"Avada Kedavra" And she saw no more, heard no more and breathed no more.
Hermione Granger was dead. And he walked off, returning to the dark side.