AN: This is a Draco Hermione fic, all the characters belong to JK Rowling, but the story is mine. I wrote this whilst listening to "The A Team" by Ed Sheeran, so hope you enjoy and don't forget to review xx.

Angels Fly

The irony of the situation didn't fail to escape them, the two of them, once mortal enemies, clinging to each other for the last touch of stability they still possessed. Both had left the lives they once lived, abandoned the mundanity of normalcy and embarked on the adventure of a life time, at least until they were sucked back into the gaping whirlpool of social expectations that separated them in day to day life.

The sun blistered their skin, but shivers of cold still shook them, as they travelled from tiny towns to nonexistent villages. All the time in search for something that had alluded the both of them, reaching out with the tips of their finger for some commodity that slipped through their reaches like water trickling down a stream.

He watched her dance along the lines of sanity, knowing he should pull her back, her mahogany hair whipping past him in the wind as they ran to reach whatever they were searching for. A shell of the girl she had once been, the war had broken her beyond repair and he had front row tickets to the destruction of a life that had once held a light so golden it had blinded most of the surrounding people.

A bottle of Vodka and a pack of Marlboro's was all they had needed when they had broken free. The rest was chance, they followed the sun, and when a place was beginning to darken, and the shadows that they always lingered in became too pronounced they pocketed their lighters, and headed to the rail line. Waiting for whatever destiny had in stall for them, always ready to grab onto the railings of the passing trains and embrace the harsh coldness of a city that didn't know the pain they held.

The first time it happened she grit her teeth against the pain, and he stared down into her hollow gaze. After that it became as natural as breathing, when the loneliness became too much and all the lights were off, and he was too drunk to deny what he knew was wrong, she would slink across the dance floor of the never ending clubs and together they would dance a dance the likes of which the dreary inhabitants of the sad towns had never seen before.

It would always end with his hands roaming down her body, and her closing her eyes in anticipation of the pure ecstasy she was about to feel. The high he gave her was better than any drugs he could buy them, and she knew no other better release than the abandonment of his tongue doing unspeakable things on her chest as his hips pounded her viciously into the wall of the alleyway.

Day after day held the same routine, until suddenly the realization that the great escape had transformed into nothing better than mundanity, and that the something they had been searching for had escaped them, the sun had left them behind. No matter how hard they searched, it wouldn't come back to them, until one day she decided it all needed to change, she swapped the ripped jeans and white tank top she had donned from the beginning of the trip for jean cut-offs and a man's oversized plaid shirt, the combat boots and fish-net tights were another addition. He threw out the vodka and swapped his flask for a small plastic bag that held more illicit substances, brushing the white blonde hair out of his harshly handsome face, she tied the lace of her boot and they were ready again.

Suddenly the sun returned only this time brighter and hazier, the towns blurred and the journeys were a mist of color and unrecognizable shapes. The days held long talks about nothing, and for the first time they both felt that the great escape had been reached. That one commodity had been reached and they held onto it with such force that she was scared it would rip, she never loosened her grip. Reality didn't matter, and the life they had once lived sunk into the shadows of their consciousness refusing to surface.

The day he woke up and shook his head clear of the drug hazed fog that had lingered there so long was the day that her sun eternally left. He was ready to go back and face reality, ready to start over and clean the festering wounds that had held his heart in a vice tight grip for so long. No matter how hard she searched, and how much she tried to mask her pain she could not find the sun. Warmth had no meaning for her anymore, and she spent months travelling from tiny towns to nonexistent villages, desperately searching for that unnamable something, but he had had taken it with him, and deep down she knew that. When she lay her head down to rest for the final time, the payment for the lost summer finally catching up with her she felt warm again, and embraced her destiny with open arms.