House : Slytherin
Category : Themed
Prompt : Nursery Rhyme of your choice (I chose "One for Sorrow")
Word Count : 2293
A/N : This entire story is Hermione POV, and the person referred to as "you" is Draco Malfoy
One for sorrow,
21/04/2002
I remember how it crushed me, when I found out you'd left me. You didn't even say goodbye. I remember throwing a vase against the wall, and then I remember tears splashing down my cheeks until I began to drown in them. I remember the feeling of shattering into a million tiny little pieces, and I wish I could just forget.
Sometimes it scares me, how much I miss you, how much I crave your touch. You once told me you were in this forever, but you're not here anymore, are you?
Maybe things were meant to go this way, maybe all this pain and hurt and anger is all fate. You were always destined to end up with her, but you promised you would stay with me instead.
Liar.
Two for joy,
31/10/1998
"Granger."
I looked up, wondering who dared to interrupt my reading. I was greeted with the sight of you, eyes shining with something I couldn't quite place. "What are you doing here, Malfoy?" I asked, narrowing my eyes. You may have changed since the war, but you were still Draco Malfoy.
You shrugged. "What are you doing here?"
"You must have something better to be doing. It's Hallowe'en! No one spends All Hallows' Eve in a library."
"You do."
"Yes, but I'm me."
"And I'm me. I don't really see your point; you're not making much sense. And they say you're smart," you drawled.
I crossed my arms. "Why are you here?"
"If you must know, Granger, I'm not sure myself. I saw you in here and wondered why you weren't partying with Scarhead, Weasel, and all your other little friends with poor impulse control," you replied.
"They have names, you know."
"No, I don't."
"Malfoy..."
"I don't see why I should bother to waste my time and energy to learn them, anyway," you smirked. "Now, I've told you my reason, tell me yours."
I sighed. "I don't like Hallowe'en. I mean, when I was little, I always dressed up as witch, and there's not much point in that anymore, and my first Hallowe'en in the Wizarding War was spent with a troll in a bathroom. I just didn't feel like doing anything this year."
You winced. "I really don't want to know what you and the Weasel get up to, but come on. First year? Isn't that a little young, even for you peasants?"
I stared at you in shocked silence for a few moments, and was about to insult you when I noticed a smile tugging at your lips, and couldn't help myself from laughing. It started as a snort, and then a snicker, and before I knew it we were both shaking with mirth and gasping for air.
After wiping away the tears of laughter from my eyes, I looked over to you. "I haven't laughed like that since - wow - before the war, probably," I confessed.
"Me neither," you replied, but something in your voice made me think it had been a lot longer than that, so I slipped my hand into yours, and even though you seemed surprised, you laced our fingers together. As we sat in blissful silence, I contemplated just how well my hand fit in yours, and in that moment, I just knew.
Three for a girl,
21/04/2002
The first time I saw her, it chilled me to the bone. She was beautiful, in a macabre sort of way. Her hair was long and black as ebony, and her lips were crimson red, like a drop of blood on porcelain white skin. On paper, she might have been Snow White, but when I gazed into her eyes, glinting cruelly in the moonlight, I reckoned she could not have been further from the much-loved princess.
Granted, you tried to resist her advances at first, but I should've have known things would end like this. She may have taken her time in seducing you, batting her long spidery eyelashes all the way, but she inexorably tightened her grip on you with every passing moment, wrapping her skeletal fingers around your heart and slowly tearing you away from me.
This morning, I caught a glimpse of myself in the bathroom mirror. I looked like hell. The dark circles under my eyes were worse than ever, as was my hair, which had become a frizzy mess of knots and oily curls.
I took a shower and thought about how little I looked after myself these days. The thing is, I don't really see the point of making an effort now that you're gone. All the SleekEazy in the world won't bring you back to me, when she has the silkiest hair that could be.
Four for a boy,
25/12/1998
Ever since I had broken up with Ron, I felt a little unwelcome at the Burrow, so I decided to stay at Hogwarts over Christmas. With your parents away on business, you decided to do the same. On Christmas morning, we decided to open presents together in the Slytherin Common Room so that I didn't have to deal with the squealing Gryffindor first-years, and rather conveniently, it also meant neither of us had to spend the most festive day of the year on our own.
When I arrived, you looked ready to burst with impatience. "There you are!" you cried. "Come on, let's open presents!"
I laughed and began to delicately unwrap my first gift as you ripped the wrapping paper from your own presents. We finished at the same time, since you had about eight times more presents than me, and then you reached behind your back and you handed me a package. It was small, no bigger than your thumb, but I could just feel the magic radiating from it.
You scratched the back of your head. "Listen, Granger. I thought about this long and hard, and this was the best thing I could give you. I don't want a single comment made on how much it cost, because Merlin knows I have far more money than any given man needs, and I wanted to give you this present."
I sighed, removing the wrapping paper. "Fine." It was a small vial that I recognised as memories. I looked up at you. "Your own?"
You shook your head. "Look at the label."
I picked up the label. It read "A Midsummer's Night Dream, First Performance, 1st January 1605." I gasped. "Draco… Is this-? Wow."
You laughed. "Thanks. It wasn't easy to find. McGonagall's agreed to let us use her Pensieve this evening to watch it."
"I didn't get you any-" Suddenly, I had an idea. "Ok, you're coming with me."
Slightly confused, you let me drag you into the kitchens, where I taught you to make gingerbread men. We baked all morning, and just as we were about to go down to the Great Hall for lunch, you stopped me. "Granger, this was amazing," you said. "However, you have frosting on your cheek."
Frowning, I tried to rub it off, but you just laughed. "Allow me," you suggested, grabbing a tissue and wiping the icing away. The movement was intimate, and I felt every nerve in my body tingle at your touch, so I stood on my tip-toes and kissed you. Once my heart had stopped somersaulting, it didn't take me very long to realise just how deep in I was.
And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.
Five for silver,
Six for gold,
21/04/2002
I glance down at my wedding ring. It's silver and gold. I remember how pleased you were with it because the silver, the Slytherin silver, was you, and the gold, the Gryffindor gold, was me.
I've kept the ring on since the day you gave it to me. Sometimes, I think about taking it off, but it's all I have left of you, and it would just feel a little too final.
I bet she gave you a ring, too. No, in fact, she probably gave you a sceptre and crowned you king of her queendom, just so that you'd stay.
Seven for a secret,
Never to be told.
18/05/1999
We sat in peaceful silence, satiated and content. "I had to lie to Ginny to come here," I began. "Again. I hate lying, you know."
"My Slytherin is rubbing off on you," you mumbled, nuzzling into my neck.
I pushed you away. "We'll have to tell them, someday," I murmured.
You stroked my hair absentmindedly. "Yeah, love, we will."
Eight for a wish,
21/04/2002
A small part of me hopes you're happy without me, but mostly I just wish you hadn't had to leave in the first place.
I wonder if you ever think of me, when you lie next to her. I hope you do. I hope you haven't forgotten me, because the memory of you is burned into my brain. You are the one thing I can't forget, no matter how hard I try.
Perhaps I don't want to forget, not really. Perhaps I want to suffer. Maybe you wanted me to suffer, too. That's the only reason I can think of for why you would leave me for that doxy.
My feelings on the bint vary greatly: sometimes, I wish I could Crucio her to death, or at least insanity, for daring to rob me of you. Other times, I wish I was her, because she has everything I have ever wanted: that is to say, she has you.
Nine for a kiss,
31/12/1999
It was another Ministry Party, held at some rich donor's mansion in the middle of nowhere so that they could use Weasleys' Wildfire Whiz-bangs without attracting any Muggles. They said the celebration was in honour of putting the war behind us, and they made a superb speech about love and peace and forgiveness, or as you put it "all the crap they always say and never do". They asked me and you to deliver a little spiel, too, but we politely declined. At least, I did. You told them to "piss off and stop trying to use children as political tools", and even though we weren't really children anymore, it was about time someone told them.
The party was boring, and I was relieved when, at five minutes to midnight, you suggested we go outside. Once we were out there, you glanced at your watch and told me to look up. As I did, I saw the first firework go up in the air, spelling out the words "One minute till midnight - go find someone to snog!"
Chuckling, I turned back to you and noticed you were down on one knee. I gasped. You took my hands in yours and gazed into my eyes, your own overflowing with emotion.
"I didn't mean for this to happen," you said. "I thought you'd want to wait so I wasn't going to propose, but we both know I'm not going anywhere, and you just look so perfect tonight - I had to ask. I don't have a ring, but I'll buy you one. I'll buy you a thousand rings if that's what you want. I'll give you the moon and all the stars if you just ask."
"Draco..."
"Marry me, Hermione."
I felt giddy. "Yes!" I cried, throwing myself into your arms.
In the distance, a clock struck midnight and I pressed my lips onto yours. The kiss was gentle and soft, and it tasted like love. It was the promise of a lifetime of happiness and it held murmurs of hope with just a whisper of desire.
Ten for a bird,
You must not miss.
21/04/2002
I'm beginning to suffocate in self-pity; I need to get out of this house. Slipping my boots on, I rush outside, breathing in the cool spring air. As I begin to walk, I come across a lone magpie. Normally, I would greet it, at least acknowledge it, to guard myself from bad luck. It's an old habit, a superstition passed down through generations, but today I just don't feel like it. I can't bring myself to try and ward away misfortune when the worst has already happened.
Oh Merlin –I feel like I might throw up just thinking about you. I loved you so much, and then you had to run off with her, of all people. She won't even let me see you. I can feel the tears begin to well in my eyes and I don't even bother trying to wipe them away.
I'm so, so sorry, darling, I think to myself. I didn't mean any of the awful things I said. Forgive me, I'm just a bit heart-broken and very lonely and I really want you to come back.
Please come back.
I'm still so bitterly jealous that she managed to steal you away, with her sadistic little smile and her sweeping black cloak, and the worst bit is I can't even bring myself to say her name. She has other names I can call her by, though.
Isis.
Cora.
Freyja.
Persephone.
She has so many names, but there's one, her most infamous, perhaps, that I still can't quite utter. It's a short name, and it sits on the tip of my tongue, threatening to fall. It's balancing so precariously that it tumbles off. It's the first time I say it out loud, and it triggers another wave of grief. I sink to my knees, head in my hand, the few remaining pieces of my heart shattered. You're hers, now and forever, and there's nothing I can do about it. Her name slips out again, and it rings in my ears, over and over again.
Death.