Who Made You Cry?
~hotsleekeyz~
ONE-SHOT
Pairing : DracoXHermione
Setting : After the war between the Death Eaters and Light Wizards---where Dumbledore's League triumphed and Draco fought with them; around the times from 6th to 7th year at Hogwarts; at a village beside Hogsmeade
MP3 Song of Choice : Before the Dawn and The End By Evanescence
**********************************************************************
He was gasping wearily for his breath. . . ragged, forced, and induced with so much pain. . . of emotions kept and cherished. . . of yearning matured and bloomed. . . of a love never expressed. . .
. . .vanished into thin air as the woman he long offered his life for smashed into smithereens by the mere tight grasp at the neck of the most evil wizard ever known to wizards---
Voldemort.
It was Draco who forced in his tears. He knew well not to let anyone witness that he was weak just as everyone else was, and that his father, though in the league of the wizard he most hated, taught him well to bottle up his emotions, until necessary. . . and Draco never saw a time necessary to tell anyone about his emotions. Admittance of the existence of such feelings inside him was near to impossibility, or so he thought it was. He had long put up with his smug façade and he wouldn't accept it if any wizard saw him at his weakest. . . for he long perceived that shedding of tears was the worst implication of weakness. . .the most unnecessary action for any creature alive to go through. . . for tears had long filled the only place he grew up in. The Malfoy Manor---a place seen by many as one of the most respectable structures in the Mage World. A residence showing wealth, power, and fame that other wizarding families could only dream of. . . was in truth, a broken home. Such strong pillars supported the house that sheltered the Malfoys. . .only that what's inside is the irony of it all. . . that inside the house is nothing else but utmost silence and banging noise alternating. . . of cries. . . Draco's mother's cries for help, anguish and hatred. . . Draco's father's screaming for much more power, abuse and immobilization of anything else in the house. All power was held in Lucius Malfoy's hands. . . not Draco, nor Narcissa had a bit of it whilst they were inside. And no one knew that--- that inside a smug- looking house is not a home for innocent minds like Draco's---well, before he was introduced to the way of living that the Death Eaters lived, that is.
If only someone else knew of what he was feeling right at that moment, that the Light Wizards, at last, triumphed, they could have had shared the pain and grieving he was suffering. But how could he just come out in the open and convey what was bothering him?. . . of what pains him the most at that moment of victory?. . .
And the scene where the woman was mercilessly put to her fateful end came flashing over and over in Draco's young mind.
Voldemort's firm, thin fingers were clutched at both sides of the witch's neck while the victim choked on her very small intake of air. The Dark Lord's evil guffaw rung through the whole place as everything went gray, silent, and nothing else had light cast upon it aside from the two auburn orbs, that was the witch's eyes, filled with rage and hope that she could make one swift move so as to give her a chance to distract the assailant and have her the chance to run away. And Draco would flinch at that sight. He saw light coming only from the witch, or rather, all light focused on her. How a fragile young girl suffered just to bring about an end unknown to the Dark Lord's action. . . Voldemort never knew that Dumbledore was wiser to cast a curse on the witch beforehand. . . that the moment Voldemort takes hold of her and brings about her death, Voldemort will self- destruct at once.
And the more that Draco clutched over his chest at the pain of seeing everything that happened flash once more as vividly as the time he first saw it.
The struggle. . . the cries. . . the futile attempt to escape. . .
Draco was made witness to it all. Only that he did not wish for it. For the first time in his life, he did not wish for that certain death.
And who would have thought that Draco would have such change of heart? Clearly, Lucius had exposed Draco to such violence at such early age, and to his innocence, Draco liked it. "Liked" it. . . the operative word. And no, at that age of young wisdom budding, Draco knew well that seeing wizards and witches being put to their end was the most un-wizard-like thing to do to another.
At such time he was trying to gather back the air that used to be his, the scream he heard after Voldemort had inflicted the most pressure he could on the victim's neck, he screamed himself a deafening 'no!' that clearly woken the other survivor's in their traumatic trance.
The other wizards rushed to Draco's side, seeing him panting hard with eyes wide as if in shock. They all wondered what was wrong, aside from him seeing his father die in that same day, though he didn't bother too much about that. In truth, he could hardly care less. Out of the crowd, a silver beard overpowered all of them that they had to step aside to give way to him. It was Albus Dumbedore, trying to seek through the agonized soul of such promising young man. He signaled for all of the others to take distance and they did as told.
Dumbledore knew what bothered Draco. He wanted the young lad to pour out his emotions, though he wasn't sure how, but anything else mattered than that. He wanted to make sure Draco would find his way out of the trauma he had inflicted on himself by not saying anything before the young witch met her early death.
And Draco also knew that there was only one wizard left that he could confide with. . . after all the hatred he had built for the old Dumbledore, he knew that the great wizard would understand. He well knew that Dumbledore had let pass the misconduct and trespasses Harry and his company had. . . but him? Draco Malfoy who, by all means went against the rules discreetly, backstabbed Dumbledore every chance he's got, and openly expressed his disgust for such creature to rule such fine school as Hogwarts. . .
But had he another choice?
Draco lost his father that day. To him, it was nothing. He was even grateful that at last, no one would try to win over his thoughts and emotions anymore, as he has proven well enough that even if Lucius tried to manipulate Draco's image to his own liking, the handsome young lad's emotions would always win.
And Narcissa. . . poor Narcissa that she until her last breath she was under the Imperius Curse of Lucius---knew nothing of what's happening and at the brink of her life and death, she was able to break free from the curse and such glimmer in her eyes sparkled for Draco who was taken aback at the Avada Voldemort had accidentally aimed at her, Narcissa said 'I love you son' for the first time in her life. . .
And the witch. . .
That beautiful witch that he longed fancied. . .
Hermione Granger. . .
Draco let another painful groan as he tried to catch his breath again as the image of her being led to her death flashed so clearly in his mind. And nothing else was able to enter his mind. No other death but hers. . . after the thousands of lives he saw that was taken away in front of his very eyes. . . he hardly cared. It was only Hermione that filled him senseless. . .
And that very peaceful smile that Hermione emitted as she met death and golden sparks escaped from the constraints of her fragile chest that soon killed Voldemort face-to-face. . . as Hermione was clutched by her neck with her feet dangling off from the ground. . .
Draco saw it all!. . .
How could such wonderful person accept death that way? How could Hermione manage to smile in her death? How could she accept the curse imposed on her by Dumbledore to bring about Voldemort's life? Did she not know she was going to die with that spell too? And if she knew, why in goodness' sake did she allow Dumbledore to make her instrument of Voldemort's timely death?
Draco gasped deeply as Dumbledore's hand made its way over his firm shoulder. At that gesture, Draco completely broke down on the ground with a number of cadavers in a near proximity. . .
Draco poured it all. . . such great emotion expressed in the fewest of words he managed to muster. . .
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"I don't know whether to laugh or cry over her death. . . how could I bring myself to smile in victory of getting rid of a natural-born enemy when I want to cry in sorrow of letting the chance slip by to make my true emotions known to her?"
And in a blink, Draco' tears flowed freely like a stream of silent waters running deep. . .
Dumbledore took Draco tightly in his arms as he would have done to his own child and Draco lost it, cried his heart out at the reality that hit him hard.
~Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns characters, setting, etc. Except: the plot is mine.~
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Another sad fic it is. I know. My apologies.
Since I'm forcing myself to write at least one chapter a day, perhaps soon you'll find a story with lesser 'sad' element to it. I swear I'll try!
Thanks for reading and please review! It really means a lot to read your thoughts about it!
ONE-SHOT
Pairing : DracoXHermione
Setting : After the war between the Death Eaters and Light Wizards---where Dumbledore's League triumphed and Draco fought with them; around the times from 6th to 7th year at Hogwarts; at a village beside Hogsmeade
MP3 Song of Choice : Before the Dawn and The End By Evanescence
**********************************************************************
He was gasping wearily for his breath. . . ragged, forced, and induced with so much pain. . . of emotions kept and cherished. . . of yearning matured and bloomed. . . of a love never expressed. . .
. . .vanished into thin air as the woman he long offered his life for smashed into smithereens by the mere tight grasp at the neck of the most evil wizard ever known to wizards---
Voldemort.
It was Draco who forced in his tears. He knew well not to let anyone witness that he was weak just as everyone else was, and that his father, though in the league of the wizard he most hated, taught him well to bottle up his emotions, until necessary. . . and Draco never saw a time necessary to tell anyone about his emotions. Admittance of the existence of such feelings inside him was near to impossibility, or so he thought it was. He had long put up with his smug façade and he wouldn't accept it if any wizard saw him at his weakest. . . for he long perceived that shedding of tears was the worst implication of weakness. . .the most unnecessary action for any creature alive to go through. . . for tears had long filled the only place he grew up in. The Malfoy Manor---a place seen by many as one of the most respectable structures in the Mage World. A residence showing wealth, power, and fame that other wizarding families could only dream of. . . was in truth, a broken home. Such strong pillars supported the house that sheltered the Malfoys. . .only that what's inside is the irony of it all. . . that inside the house is nothing else but utmost silence and banging noise alternating. . . of cries. . . Draco's mother's cries for help, anguish and hatred. . . Draco's father's screaming for much more power, abuse and immobilization of anything else in the house. All power was held in Lucius Malfoy's hands. . . not Draco, nor Narcissa had a bit of it whilst they were inside. And no one knew that--- that inside a smug- looking house is not a home for innocent minds like Draco's---well, before he was introduced to the way of living that the Death Eaters lived, that is.
If only someone else knew of what he was feeling right at that moment, that the Light Wizards, at last, triumphed, they could have had shared the pain and grieving he was suffering. But how could he just come out in the open and convey what was bothering him?. . . of what pains him the most at that moment of victory?. . .
And the scene where the woman was mercilessly put to her fateful end came flashing over and over in Draco's young mind.
Voldemort's firm, thin fingers were clutched at both sides of the witch's neck while the victim choked on her very small intake of air. The Dark Lord's evil guffaw rung through the whole place as everything went gray, silent, and nothing else had light cast upon it aside from the two auburn orbs, that was the witch's eyes, filled with rage and hope that she could make one swift move so as to give her a chance to distract the assailant and have her the chance to run away. And Draco would flinch at that sight. He saw light coming only from the witch, or rather, all light focused on her. How a fragile young girl suffered just to bring about an end unknown to the Dark Lord's action. . . Voldemort never knew that Dumbledore was wiser to cast a curse on the witch beforehand. . . that the moment Voldemort takes hold of her and brings about her death, Voldemort will self- destruct at once.
And the more that Draco clutched over his chest at the pain of seeing everything that happened flash once more as vividly as the time he first saw it.
The struggle. . . the cries. . . the futile attempt to escape. . .
Draco was made witness to it all. Only that he did not wish for it. For the first time in his life, he did not wish for that certain death.
And who would have thought that Draco would have such change of heart? Clearly, Lucius had exposed Draco to such violence at such early age, and to his innocence, Draco liked it. "Liked" it. . . the operative word. And no, at that age of young wisdom budding, Draco knew well that seeing wizards and witches being put to their end was the most un-wizard-like thing to do to another.
At such time he was trying to gather back the air that used to be his, the scream he heard after Voldemort had inflicted the most pressure he could on the victim's neck, he screamed himself a deafening 'no!' that clearly woken the other survivor's in their traumatic trance.
The other wizards rushed to Draco's side, seeing him panting hard with eyes wide as if in shock. They all wondered what was wrong, aside from him seeing his father die in that same day, though he didn't bother too much about that. In truth, he could hardly care less. Out of the crowd, a silver beard overpowered all of them that they had to step aside to give way to him. It was Albus Dumbedore, trying to seek through the agonized soul of such promising young man. He signaled for all of the others to take distance and they did as told.
Dumbledore knew what bothered Draco. He wanted the young lad to pour out his emotions, though he wasn't sure how, but anything else mattered than that. He wanted to make sure Draco would find his way out of the trauma he had inflicted on himself by not saying anything before the young witch met her early death.
And Draco also knew that there was only one wizard left that he could confide with. . . after all the hatred he had built for the old Dumbledore, he knew that the great wizard would understand. He well knew that Dumbledore had let pass the misconduct and trespasses Harry and his company had. . . but him? Draco Malfoy who, by all means went against the rules discreetly, backstabbed Dumbledore every chance he's got, and openly expressed his disgust for such creature to rule such fine school as Hogwarts. . .
But had he another choice?
Draco lost his father that day. To him, it was nothing. He was even grateful that at last, no one would try to win over his thoughts and emotions anymore, as he has proven well enough that even if Lucius tried to manipulate Draco's image to his own liking, the handsome young lad's emotions would always win.
And Narcissa. . . poor Narcissa that she until her last breath she was under the Imperius Curse of Lucius---knew nothing of what's happening and at the brink of her life and death, she was able to break free from the curse and such glimmer in her eyes sparkled for Draco who was taken aback at the Avada Voldemort had accidentally aimed at her, Narcissa said 'I love you son' for the first time in her life. . .
And the witch. . .
That beautiful witch that he longed fancied. . .
Hermione Granger. . .
Draco let another painful groan as he tried to catch his breath again as the image of her being led to her death flashed so clearly in his mind. And nothing else was able to enter his mind. No other death but hers. . . after the thousands of lives he saw that was taken away in front of his very eyes. . . he hardly cared. It was only Hermione that filled him senseless. . .
And that very peaceful smile that Hermione emitted as she met death and golden sparks escaped from the constraints of her fragile chest that soon killed Voldemort face-to-face. . . as Hermione was clutched by her neck with her feet dangling off from the ground. . .
Draco saw it all!. . .
How could such wonderful person accept death that way? How could Hermione manage to smile in her death? How could she accept the curse imposed on her by Dumbledore to bring about Voldemort's life? Did she not know she was going to die with that spell too? And if she knew, why in goodness' sake did she allow Dumbledore to make her instrument of Voldemort's timely death?
Draco gasped deeply as Dumbledore's hand made its way over his firm shoulder. At that gesture, Draco completely broke down on the ground with a number of cadavers in a near proximity. . .
Draco poured it all. . . such great emotion expressed in the fewest of words he managed to muster. . .
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"I don't know whether to laugh or cry over her death. . . how could I bring myself to smile in victory of getting rid of a natural-born enemy when I want to cry in sorrow of letting the chance slip by to make my true emotions known to her?"
And in a blink, Draco' tears flowed freely like a stream of silent waters running deep. . .
Dumbledore took Draco tightly in his arms as he would have done to his own child and Draco lost it, cried his heart out at the reality that hit him hard.
~Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns characters, setting, etc. Except: the plot is mine.~
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Another sad fic it is. I know. My apologies.
Since I'm forcing myself to write at least one chapter a day, perhaps soon you'll find a story with lesser 'sad' element to it. I swear I'll try!
Thanks for reading and please review! It really means a lot to read your thoughts about it!