A/N: This is for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition. I am Chaser #1 of the Wimbourne Wasps and I am to write about my OTP dealing with a death. I'm told that I should warn you about it being sad from my teammates so I'm doing so ahead of time. You guys should check out the competition, it's awesome!
Prompts:
#2: (word) accept
#3: (setting) St. Mungo's
#8: (word) inkling
Fatal Acceptance
Draco sat in the waiting chairs outside of her hospital room at St. Mungo's and wished. He wished he had received better news than he did moments before. He wished that he could see her warm brown eyes light up her face and see the smile that had comforted him on so many occasions. Draco wished that he could see her glare at something stupid that he might have said or see her dance around the room to her favorite song. He wished he could see her happy again, but he knew now that he never would.
He warned her that the case she would take on could be too dangerous for her. He warned her that, even though she was the most brilliant witch of her time, there would be some things she couldn't figure out. Even though he warned her, he also knew that she would ignore his warning and continue on with her plan. Why would she do that? Why would she put him through so much agony and worry?
"People need my help. A little worry on your part could save lives!" she would say.
"What about us? Our life, our future?" he would ask.
She had never answered him and now she never would. All Draco could do was imagine her in that field without any type of security. It was all because she had felt she could do it alone. She thought she had everything figured out. He knew that she didn't. He had an inkling that something was going to go wrong and he should have been there.
All of these "should haves" were nothing but regrets and wishes that would forever stain his brain like the lifeless brown orbs that were her eyes. He still couldn't accept that she was completely gone. He couldn't get her image out of his mind once he had left her hospital room. Her pale skin had started to turn blue from the amount of time that it had been empty of her warm soul. She looked peaceful. He hated that she looked that way. She was hardly ever peaceful. Her mind was always running a mile a minute and her face always showed that. Just not today. Not ever again.
"Mr. Malfoy?" her healer questioned, coming outside of the door.
Draco looked up, but he could barely focus on the man's face, and the amount of tears that flooded from his eyes certainly weren't helping. Draco had never cried so hard in his life. He never imagined that he would cry for her. In fact, he never imagined that he would have loved someone so deeply that crying would be an option.
"Y-yes?" Draco stuttered, trying to straighten himself.
The healer handed him a clipboard that had all of her information listed. Her cause of death. Her birth place. Her misspelled name.
"Is this the correct information?" the healer asked.
"The name is wrong," Draco whispered.
"I'm sorry?"
"It's Hermione. The I between the m and the o is missing. Fix it," Draco ordered, shoving the clipboard back into the healer's chest.
The healer just nodded in response and hurried off to fix the common mistake.
Hermione hated it when someone misspelled her name. She hated it more when someone pronounced it incorrectly. Draco remembered how scrunched up her nose would be whenever she heard her name uncorrected, and the light dusting of freckles that surrounded her nose would gather together. This memory made him shake uncontrollably and he knew immediately that he had to get out of there.
He took one last look in the hospital room as they draped the sheet over her cold and limp body before running down the hallway. He passed stone cold faces of nurses and healers who weren't sympathizing. To them, Hermione was just another patient gone wrong, but to Draco, Hermione was his entire world. That world was crashing down around him and causing a fire that didn't seem to burn.
He didn't know how far he had been running until his knees came in contact with the plush green grass, and that he could see nothing for miles but the hospital behind him. The only thing in front of him were mountains upon mountains of trees that were being caressed by the moon's glow.
"You promised me forever!" he shouted at the sky full of stars.
He imagined that she was now among the stars that glittered the navy blue atmosphere, and he wanted to remind them of that promise. She promised him that she would be careful. She promised. He trusted her. At the time, he didn't know how deep her fatal acceptance had been. He didn't know just how serious the case she took on would be.
There were no amount of wishes that could bring her back to him, and there would be times where regret would creep back into his soul every time he thought about her.
"Don't leave me…please," he begged the earth, knowing just how late his plead was.
"I love you" she said once.
He loved her more than she'd ever know. Why didn't he tell her everything when he had the chance? Why?
"Just…why?" he sobbed.
"I'll always love you," she had said before.
The crying had finally ceased and he fell on his back in the grass to look up at the sky that seemed to be winking at him. It seemed to glitter and he imagined that they were happy to have gained a new star. A star that was more beautiful than all the other stars put together. They gained an angel. His angel.
"I know what I must do," he whispered to himself, keeping his eyes on the sky.
He knew that he would have to go back to that field. He would have to fight the same battle that she had to, but he would prevail. He had to. He had to win for her or all else would be lost.
"People need my help, Hermione. A little worrying could save lives," he whispered into the stars.
With that, he continued with his fatal acceptance just like she had.