Author's Note: This is a oneshot. I don't know about you, but I'm in complete love with Hermione and Draco. I know J.K says it was never meant to be, but even the greatest are wrong sometimes. You can't doubt love.
Disclaimer: (long depressed sigh) I own nothing... nothing... except this plot!
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Her hands were shaking, but nothing she did could stop them. She clenched them into fists, hoping to at least have control over her own body. She took a few steps forward; the night sky was engulfing what little daylight was left. She fought back tears and tried to sallow a rather large lump in her throat. Nothing seemed fair. Nothing ever seemed fair.
What can you do when the world around you seems to be an endless cycle of survival? What's the point to life when the only thing that makes you alive is killing? It's either you kill, or be killed. There's no emotion, no enjoyment, and definitely no time to rest. Sleep was something that time just didn't allow. There was too much to do. There wasn't time to laugh, to cry, to feel anything. After one death, you kill again. You fight to see another sunrise, you fight to stay alive for another fight.
Hermione felt her chest sink in at just the thought of another fight. She was tired of her new way of life. Her wand had become a permanent attachment to her hand. She hadn't slept in almost three days, and was feeling the side affects. Her eyes were heavy and her mind was drained. Sometimes, she wouldn't have minded loosing a fight. She wondered what it would be like to see the sparks of someone's wand shoot right through you. And the next time you opened your eyes, you were in the afterlife. At least there, Hermione could get a break.
Nothing made sense. She felt that she had been living in a dream. Things didn't have a purpose. Humans didn't feel human, but instead felt like pieces in a chess game. Voldemort on one side, and Harry on the other. Hermione had promised him she would go anywhere he went. She stood by him through the worst of times. She even nursed him on the countless times he became close to death. He needed her, and she wasn't sure if there was anything left inside her to give to him. She was completely drained. Hermione's eyes burned with images of brutal murders. She's seen friends, people she went to school with, spouting blood and begging for mercy. She witnessed the death of so many. But the one that had sent her over the edge was Ron's.
It was today. He was alive just this morning, and now Hermione was watching them bury his mangled body. Her face scrunched up as she battled to stay in control over her tears. She wasn't going to cry… she couldn't let herself. If she cried, she would lose more than control. She would lose the point to stay strong. Her strength she promised to give to Harry. He needed it more than she did. Harry had a fit when they brought Ron's limp body to the headquarters. She could still here his screams in her ears. She held him as his body heaved with sobs. No one knew what to say or do for him. Not even Hermione. She was just as hurt as he was, except she wasn't allowed to show it. If she had, Harry would be an even bigger mess. She needed to be strong, for Harry.
Harry was currently recovering from his breakdown. Hermione left him alone with Ginny and Bill. Harry had so many people that loved him and were by his side. Hermione wished she had that. But all she had was knowing she was there for someone else. But who will be there for her?
She ran a hand through her tangled hair. She had really let herself go. Her hair was a mess of curls, and her skin was pale. But she didn't care anymore. All she cared about was that this war was killing her. Not physically, but mentally.
Hermione bit her lip as Mr. Weasley finished burying his son. They left in silence. Hermione closed her eyes and took a step forward. The ground was soft from rain. Her shoes sank a little with each step. Her heart skipped a beat. She was walking towards Ron's grave. It wasn't fair…
She stopped directly in front of the newly covered grave. The fresh dirt smelled bitterly sweet in her nose. A small stone faced her, reading Ron's name. She blinked away unshed tears and clenched her teeth. "I hate you." Her voice shook. "You… you weren't supposed to leave me." Her face tingled as a small breeze flew past her. "You promised. You said you would take care of me. I hate you! I hate you!" She was yelling at a corpse. Hermione Granger reached the point of insanity. She glanced around. She suddenly became afraid. She was alone. Alone. Alone…
She began to run. Where, she wasn't sure. Just as long as she wasn't thinking, she didn't care. Run… run… run from death… run from life… run…Her mind was in a static haze. The trees over her leaned in, as if trying to reach her. Run from their grasp. She closed her eyes and ran in a direction she didn't know led to. Anywhere was better than where she was.
She felt her lungs grow heavy and her throat tighten. She needed to rest. She stopped running and leaned against a tree. She looked around and decided she must be in a forest. It smelled like rain and pine. She took a deep breath, allowing the aromas to bath her senses. Her mind felt crowded. There was too much to let sink in. She hung her head, letting her hair act as a curtain. She was alone. But, then again, it was nothing she didn't already know.
Hermione decided now was a good time to break down. She gasped for air as the first sob shook her body. Goosebumps formed on her arms as the tears slithered from behind their prison. She kept it all inside, but not tonight. Tonight, Hermione reached her breaking point. More hot tears fought to the surface of her eyes. Her face felt hot and her body ached. She wiped her nose and crumbled to the ground. She tucked her legs in, and hugged herself. She let her voice escape, coming out in a yell of mixed emotions. Anger, frustration, depression, loneliness, it all consumed her.
Another yell. She slammed her hands to the ground. She jerked her head towards the blotchy night sky and screamed again. "Help me!" She let her yell leave her lips in a chilling plea. Hermione knew no one would answer. There was no one to answer.
She folded into herself again. Comforting her own broken heart. She let the tears fall silently as she hugged tighter to her knees. Her chest was heavy, and her throat scratched as she swallowed. She shouldn't have yelled so loud. It only did more harm than good.
She heard a crunch and snapped her head towards the sound. She held her breath as her eyes narrowed in on a hooded figure. God, not now! I can't fight now! I'll only die… She pushed herself to stand and watched the figure. It was leaning against a tree, standing alone in the darkness. The face was unseen; the shadows covered it like a blanket. A soft wind rippled through the robe that hung from the figure's shoulders. She felt more tears erupt.
"Kill me, if that's what you want." Her voice was small. Her heart skipped a beat as the silence dragged between her and the figure.
"It's not." The voice was male. She shivered. The coldness of the words seemed to sink into her skin. She gripped her wand and took a step closer.
"Then why are you here?" She felt ridiculous for talking to a person who obviously wanted her dead. But she wasn't really thinking as clearly as she should have been. The realization of Ron's death was still new to her, and it definitely made things a little more difficult.
"I heard a scream." Hermione stared at the man before her. She was secretly hoping someone would come to her cries, but she never expected to actually find someone who did. She couldn't help but smile. For once, her pain was heard.
The figure stood up, making Hermione jump back. "Wait, don't be afraid." Hermione frowned. Don't be afraid? Hermione had everything to fear.
"And why, exactly, is that?" A small chuckle came from the hooded man. Hermione scowled. Was he laughing at her?
"Because you never feared me before." Hermione gasped as the man stepped into the moonlight that fought its way through the canopy of the forest. His eyes sparkled a pale gray as he lowered the hood. His face was pale, like hers. His hair was a mess, hanging over his forehead and looking very uncombed. He gave her a small smile.
"Malfoy?" Hermione fell back a few more steps. Draco Malfoy only smiled.
"Hullo, Granger." She closed her mouth and stared in wonder. It was really him.
"Planning on killing me?" Draco shifted and ran a hand through his hair. He lost the smile and was now looking at the ground.
"No. I should, but I'm not." His eyes raised and met hers. "I came, because you asked me to." Hermione fingered the hem on her shirt. She didn't remember ever asking him.
"I didn't." Draco stepped forward, and Hermione stepped back. His eyes pleaded with her to stay still. Hermione fought the urge to, and took another step back.
"You called to me. You said, "Help me."" He was closer now, forcing Hermione to make back again. Her head was spinning. This didn't feel right. And she wasn't sure if it was because he was here, or because … she wanted him to be.
"That wasn't meant for you." His eyes never left hers as he walked directly for her. Hermione felt suddenly defensive and raised her wand. He put his hands up, and backed slightly away.
"Who did you want to answer?" He lowered his hands, letting them rest at his side. Hermione kept her wand up, but her eyes followed his hands. She didn't know how to answer that, because she couldn't think of anyone she wanted to be here with her. "I'm a killer. I've killed. You have to. I'm breaking apart, and I can see you are too." Hermione felt a lump form in her throat. "I heard you yell. It was dangerous of you. Someone else might have showed up. Someone that would have killed you." Hermione felt her arm begin to drop. Her body was forcing her to give up; there wasn't a reason to feel afraid. No matter how much she wanted one. "I remembered your voice, and I came. I'm sorry. I couldn't…I had to." Hermione watched him.
"You didn't have to do anything." Draco watched as she let her wand fall to her side. He took the chance to approach her again. She didn't step back, which at first startled him. Her wall was thinning and he could tell she was crumbling right before his eyes.
"Someone has to save you, Granger. Who better than me?" Hermione shivered as his words touched her ears. She felt him getting closer, and for once, she didn't want to push him back.
"Ron…" Draco looked into her face, knowing she meant that. He couldn't blame her. Ron was a better man then he was, but he would never admit that out loud.
"He's dead, Hermione." She sobbed and hunched over. Draco caught her before she completely dropped altogether. She really was in bad shape. And it was his fault. He felt her shake as he wrapped his arms around her. He felt so warm next to her, but he could feel the life slipping out of her. He closed his eyes and listened to her cry. The war was something that was slowly eating away at her, and Draco couldn't stand to see it happen. He always knew her as the strong willed girl who could handle anything with a simple book. But now…
"Did… did you k-kill hi-him?" Draco pushed her up so she was looking at him.
"No. It was another." His voice was steady, so unlike hers. She felt vulnerable against him. How can he be so strong and she can't? Draco let her fall back into his arms. There was so much that was unsaid, but maybe it was best that way.
"W-why are yo-you here? Why ar-are you helping m-me?" She was so fragile, like a doll. He felt suddenly needed with her. She was weak, begging for strength. No one around her had any left to give her. Draco smirked into her hair; he had plenty of strength to give.
"You asked for it, so I answered." Hermione wiped at her face.
"But… you're a Death Eater. And I'm…" Draco put a finger to her lips. He let his thumb stroke her face. She was so soft.
"Yes, it's true. But I'm here, aren't I? Let me help you." Hermione closed her eyes. She liked the feel of his touch. It was small, but it was reviving. No one touched her anymore. It felt good to feel human contact again. She was hungry for it, and Draco could see it. "I want to, because I owe you that. After everything I've done to ruin you, let me fix you." Hermione opened her eyes, drinking in all of his features.
"Fix me, Draco. Please…" He let his face come closer. Her breath was washing over him, sending shivers all over his skin. Hermione was desperate. She was lost, hurt, and alone. Draco was too. He needed fixing too. Maybe, she could do the same to him.
"I'll fix you, if you fix me." Hermione nodded as she collapsed into his embrace. Draco clung to her, and she latched onto him. He felt her fingers clinging to his robes. He smiled and brought her closer to him. When her heard her scream, Draco was in the middle of running away. He was running from death, insanity, and of course his life. He didn't want to kill anymore. He wanted to be free from the life he was raised into. Hermione was the only one who could give him something else. And when he heard her cry, he knew it was meant for him.
"Change for me." She whispered softly. Draco closed his eyes.
"I promise." Hermione felt the words swim through her mind, erasing her pain. Draco pulled himself away, and stared into her eyes once again. Hermione blinked as he pulled out a dagger. Her eyes followed the dagger and she felt a slight tingle of fear creep itself into her pulse. Draco pulled his sleeve up, exposing the Dark Mark. Hermione ran her fingers over the scar. She pulled away, knowing what he was going to do. The blade dug deep into his flesh. Draco winced as he dragged it down his arm. Hermione watched as thick liquid poured from under his skin. He sighed as a sheet of his skin feel to the forest floor. A hole where the mark once branded him, now bled for her. He changed for her, gave up his life for her, and she couldn't have felt more entranced by him. She felt a tear come down her face as she pulled out her wand. She touched the wound with her tip and whispered a cure to his pain. Draco watched her as she dropped her wand. She raised her eyes and met his. He knew what she wanted, and he was going to give it to her.
"I love you." Draco couldn't stand the distance between them. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her back into his chest. He swore to the stars he would never let her become this mess again. It just wasn't the Hermione Granger he loved.
"I'll love you too. But first, change for me." Hermione smiled and leaned her head into his neck.
"I promise."
The End. Or, maybe, a start.