GOSH, I haven't written anything in YEARS now. I don't really know what inspired me start again either, but I hope I'm not too rusty and that you don't all hate it too much….:)

It was raining – thick, heavy droplets that crashed onto her head with a fierce passion, their weight forcing her to bow her head as she stood shivering on the dark street corner.

She considered glancing at her watch again, but resisted the impatient temptation. Frowning, she stared at her sodden shoe that was starting to become completely submerged in the ever-rising puddle she appeared to be standing in. It would be sensible to go inside, shake the rain off her body, wipe away the streaky tears from her face….but how could she move when there was still the slightest, smallest, tiniest hope that he might still be coming?

She was an idiot. She chastised herself inwardly for staying. Why would he come? Why would he risk his life running down the dark corridors that ran underneath Malfoy Manor, pointlessly running from the many, many people that they both knew would hound him mercilessly as soon as the alarm was raised?

There was no escape. Not really. They both knew that, deep down. Secret notes and whispered conversations in the library late at night was all they were ever going to have. Maybe it was all they deserved. They were both traitors- she even worse than him. Taking the cowards way out, running away from both Harry and Ron, from the battle against Voldemort, not even saying goodbye – it was pathetic. She hated herself for doing it, and she hated him even more for forcing her to make this choice.

She hated him because she was standing on a street corner, in the pouring rain, waiting for him to arrive, knowing that he wouldn't.
She closed her eyes and continued to cry.


It was raining – dark missiles lashing against his face as he ran through the muddy, dangerous ground. Every step he took could be fatal – the mud was vicious, clutching at his feet, trying to drag him down into its moist brown bed.

He was panting now, but he did not stop. Behind him he could hear the shouts and calls of his fellow death eaters. He had made it through most of the underground chambers before they had noticed he was missing, but even with this head start he was floundering, and they seemed to be gaining ground much faster than he was. His chest burned as he inhaled the foggy air, his eyes streaming from the effort of running so fast, for so long.

He could hear the pounding of their feet closer behind him. He gritted his teeth, urging his body forward, ignoring his aching muscles as they screamed in agony with every inch of ground he covered.

Then, impact.

The force of the man behind him took him by surprise; he was so immersed in his own pain he had forgotten what the rest of the world felt like. He toppled to the ground with a grunt, his face falling with a splash into a puddle of muddy water.

The man turned him round violently, and Draco found himself staring into the murderously cold eyes of his own father.

"Father, I…." he pleaded weakly.

Lucius hit him across the cheek, the sound of his palm hitting Draco's stone cold flesh echoing around the surrounding gardens with a violent relish.

"Spare me," he spat, disgusted. "Your excuses are worthless. You…you are worthless…"

Delirious, Draco closed his eyes, allowing the rain to wash over his exhausted body. He could hear his mother crying in the distance, pleading for his life. He thought about trying to go to her, to be held in her embrace one last time, but he needed to save his energy. He needed to see Hermione last time.

The image he conjured up was pleasant. Hermione, lying on his bed, his silk green sheets wrapped around her body and her brown hair tumbling over her shoulders. She looked up at him and smiled, her face glowing with sweat and happiness. He wrapped his arms around her with a smile.

The smile still shone on his face as he lay on the ground surrounded by a whirlpool of broken earth, his father standing above him with his wand in the air.

There was a flash of green light, a shriek of terror and pain from the woman nearby, and then it was over.

His broken body lay on the floor, a wistful smile still etched on his frozen face as his soul continued to dream of better things.

The rain had stopped. The sun was beginning to rise above, and she slowly moved her head to take her surroundings in. Her body was stiff from where she had stood statue-like all night long.

He had not come.

Either he was dead, or he didn't love her after all. She wasn't sure which was worse.

What was she supposed to do now? She didn't have a plan B. She hadn't ever been able to plan an alternate future, it was too painful to imagine one that didn't feature Draco.

She stood for a few more moments, calculating her options. Before long, rage started to build within her. How dare he leave her alone like this, standing like some friendless loner on some random street she'd never heard of, muggles sending her sympathetic glances as they walked past?

She wasn't having it.

If he'd decided he didn't want her anymore, then he could go to hell - and she would be the one to send him there. Why should he get a life when she didn't?

If it was the other option – her heart clenched in further pain at the thought he might be dead already. But if he was dead….she wasn't letting those stupid, pathetic, miserable death eaters sit around laughing at the fun they'd had getting rid of him. Yes. She would go the Manor, she decided. It was stupid and it was reckless but she was beyond caring. And if the death eaters killed her before she could have her revenge?

Well.

At least she and Draco would be together again.

I think I should go write a comedy now, haha. XD

REVIEWS make me write faster, remember ;)