Disclaimer: I don't own any of the recognisable content, JK Rowling does. I don't make any money from this, this is just for fun!
A/N A huge thank you to my beta CleopatraIsMyName for her support and precious help!
Wednesday
Five days.
In five days, it'll be all over.
The pain, the guilt and most of all, the emptiness, all that had been my life for eighteen years will be gone.
It was almost comforting, this certainty.
Knowing for sure that, no matter what, everything I had known until then would be gone forever and I will finally be at peace.
Five days.
I had no plans for those last few days. Getting up in the morning, pretending to lead a normal life. Pretending to be eating while I hadn't had a proper meal in days and was thinner than ever. Like I could care about that.
Spending days in my father's study thinking about what my life has been and how it could all have been different.
Patiently brewing the potion that would send me to sleep forever.
Spending nights wandering quietly around the bleak house. Though to be honest, it was oddly comforting, bringing me back to the times I used to wander the dark corridors of Hogwarts while everyone was asleep.
Right after the war, Father had been sent to Azkaban where he had died a few days afterwards. Mother and I had been released, avoiding Father's fate after it had been proved that we had somehow helped defeat the Dark Lord by helping the Chosen One.
Mother never got over her husband's violent death. A few days after, she drank a powerful potion that killed her almost instantly. I found the empty vial right next to her body. At the time I went crazy about it, nearly losing it, not understanding why she would be such a coward and give up so easily. How could she do that to me? How could she leave me alone?
Funny how only a few weeks after that, I was now in exactly the same situation she'd been in, wanting so bad to let it all go and planning to do just that.
I couldn't understand my mother any more than I did now.
There was absolutely nothing left for me in this world anymore.
Monday it would be all over for good.
Monday. What a beautiful day to die.
Thursday
Four days.
The decision hadn't really been hard to make. It had been lingering on for so long in my mind now that it almost felt natural, like a logical end to a life I never fit in, a life of sorrow and misery.
It's a funny thing to know how and when everything will be all over.
It's liberating.
Almost exhilarating.
When the thought first crossed my mind, I dismissed it instantly, refusing to go down this road. But after a while, the thought kept coming back, stronger and stronger every time, until I couldn't ignore it anymore.
It would be so easy. So comforting. The pain, the hurt, the emptiness, all that would be over soon. The shame too. The shame associated to the now infamous name attached to me.
All gone.
No one would even regret me. No one would even care. Hell, no one would probably even notice I'd disappeared.
My so-called friends had left my side as soon as I had been arrested. No one has ever shown up or even sent me a word since. Not even when my parents had died.
I don't blame them though, to be honest. I probably would have done the same thing, had I been in their situation.
And it wasn't just the people I had known. It was the same with everyone. Whenever I strolled about Diagon Alley, I could see it in every wizard's eyes. The contempt, the anger, the resentment for all the pain inflicted by my family. At first I had tried to dismiss it but soon, it became so overwhelming that I wouldn't leave the house anymore.
Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater.
Not that it all mattered now, really. I was already dead inside.
It wouldn't be long now.
Four days to go.
Friday
I opened the door to face him.
I wasn't even surprised to find him here, on my doorstep, my wand in his right hand, his deep green eyes piercing right into mine.
I can say it now that nothing matters anymore but I have always been fascinated by him. I've always admired his strength, his determination, his courage, all of the things I have been cruelly lacking.
For minutes we stayed like that, focused on each other, nothing else existing around us. It wasn't uncomfortable. It was rather soothing to be looking into those eyes. I was feeling a quiet relief flooding through me. I couldn't tear my eyes from him. I'd never had any real occasion to look at him properly until now. It had always been stealing glances and missed opportunities. Right now he seemed to be reading me like a book, digging out every single emotion I was trying to hide so badly.
There were so many things I wanted to tell him.
I wanted to thank him.
For everything.
For sacrificing himself so selflessly. For saving people from a madman. For saving my life. Suddenly I was feeling ashamed. He had risked his life to save me from a very certain death and here I was throwing it all away. Once again I was thinking only about myself.
I didn't deserve being around someone like him.
He sensed the shift in my mood and the moment was gone. He handed me my wand and I took it with trembling fingers. Our hands brushed briefly and a jolt of electricity passed between us. I nodded slightly and he was gone.
Not a word had been uttered but so much had been expressed.
Saturday
Father had never wanted me as a son.
Sure, he wanted an heir, someone to carry on the Malfoy name. But from the very start, he had been utterly disappointed in me. However hard I was trying, I could never live up to his expectations. I was never good enough, tough enough, strong enough.
I can't count the numerous times I have been physically and emotionally abused by him. As I grew older, I learned how to avoid his wrath but it took so much energy that I was feeling drained most of the time.
I remember one day in particular. I had been 'crossing the line' like he fancied saying. I was nine or ten. I was playing next to him while he was reading the Daily Prophet. Was I too loud? I doubt it. I wouldn't have dared. Anyway, after a while, he lowered his paper and quietly asked me to stand right in front of him. I was so scared that I complied right away. He looked at me for a second and slapped me so hard that I fell on the floor. He then sent me to my room for the rest of the day. My cheek hurt so bad that I couldn't sleep at all that night. I remember staying awake all night long, wondering what on earth I could've had been doing wrong, getting crazy about it all, tears of rage and pain running down my face, feeling so helpless and lonely. After that, I was determined to avoid him as much as I could.
I once tried to stand up to him. It was a couple of summers ago after another humiliation that had left me exhausted and once again empty inside.
In a sudden wave of foolishness, blinded with rage, I started yelling at him, spitting out words of anger after years of frustration and contained rage.
He silently looked at me with an icy glare and left the room without a word.
That night he gave me away to the Dark Lord.
That night he held my arm, pressing his fingers deep inside my left forearm as the Dark Mark was being burnt into my flesh.
That night he willingly sentenced his only child to death.
Sunday
The day after, he was back at my door, the same messy hair and piercing green eyes.
This time I let him in the huge cold and empty house that I had once called my home.
We sat quietly in the reception room. Once again he was staring deep into my eyes, neither of us saying a word.
But something was different today.
He looked utterly exhausted, like he hadn't had any sleep in weeks. Thinking of it, it probably was the case.
Why was he even here? He had no business coming back. He had done his duty, saved the world and given me my wand back.
He was visibly struggling to find his words. Finally, I felt a warm hand on top of mine as he looked once again deep in my eyes. Two words escaped his lips in a breath, almost like a whisper.
"Please, don't." I looked at him in surprise. "Don't give up. Not now."
Those few words felt like a slap on my face. Suddenly I felt like the ground was disappearing beneath my feet. Had he really said what I thought he had? How could he possibly know? How could he possibly care? I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but I never got the chance.
His mouth was on mine instantly, soft lips gently brushing against mine.
I closed my eyes.
Sunday (continued)
I had been kissed a few times in my life, by both girls and boys, but never, never, had it felt remotely as good as this.
It had usually been rushed, stolen kisses with random people I couldn't care less about.
But that was different. Very different.
The touch was gentle, soft and oh so good. A thrill ran through my spine.
After a while, he broke the kiss, pressing his forehead against mine, breathing slowly, his left hand soft on the back of my neck. I could feel his warm breath on my skin, the feeling both new and strangely familiar at the same time.
He kissed me again, this time more confidently. I slightly opened my mouth and felt a tentative tongue slithering inside my mouth. The kiss became more urgent and I felt his hands trailing up and down my back. I put both hands on his waist, a desperate attempt to bring him closer to me. I was feeling dizzy, slightly disorientated, completely lost in the moment, for once forgetting everything that had been my life for the past few weeks.
I reluctantly broke the kiss, panting slightly. I looked him right in the eyes, like I was noticing him for the first time, gently brushing my fingers on his cheek.
"How?..." I whispered. "How did you know?"
"I don't know" he shrugged, softly caressing my neck. "But there is one thing I do know. You have always been a part of my life, and I simply can't stand the thought of losing you. Not now. Not after everything I've been through. And I'm done living for the others. I want to live for myself now."
I looked at him for a second and kissed him hard again, running my hands under his shirt, feeling the soft skin underneath and craving for more.
Nothing is going to change my decision. It is far too late for that.
Tomorrow, I would be gone.
In the meantime, I would take what I could get.
For the last time.
Monday, early morning
We spent the night talking in between intense kissing sessions, cuddling on the couch of the reception room, never letting go of one another.
We talked about our childhoods. They obviously had been pretty different but lonely all the same. I learned how he had been rejected and treated by the only family he had left. I told him about growing up here, in the Manor, between a loving albeit weak mother and a father who was terrorising me most of the time.
We talked about all that had happened to him every time he'd encountered the Dark Lord throughout the years, how he had been connected to him, how he had been hurt many, many times in so many ways but had never, ever given up. I hadn't known half of what had happened to him at the time, and was once again fascinated by his courage and determination and all the more ashamed by my own pitiful behaviour.
I apologised for everything I had done to hurt him. All the insults and physical pain I had inflicted him, like when I had broken his nose back in sixth year. I tried to explain how utterly rejected I had felt when he had refused my friendship and how thoroughly jealous I had been from then on every time I saw him surrounded by friends he could trust and count on while I felt so desperately lonely.
All this time he was holding me tight, cradling me in his arms, whispering comforting words in my ear.
Around four in the morning, we went up to my bedroom.
We undressed in silence and crawled under the sheets.
We hungrily discovered our bodies, touching each other's skin, eagerly pressing our mouths together over and over again.
At one point, he froze on top of me and held his breath as he lightly brushed his fingers on my chest. I frowned when I realised what he was thinking.
"Don't." I whispered grabbing his hand and gently kissing the tip of his fingers. "Don't you dare feel guilty for it, I... I was trying to crucio you, remember? You know I would have done it if you hadn't stopped me." He sighed and looked at me intently. Then without a word, he started trailing light kisses along the smooth scar barring my chest. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding and closed my eyes.
We finally made love at dawn.
It wasn't rushed. It was full of love and mutual understanding.
We joined our bodies and souls together, clinging to each other, taking our time, drowning in the sensations, gasping, moaning, moving together in a gentle rocking motion, savouring every precious moment spent together like it was the last one.
We came together in a cry, his eyes never leaving mine, completely overwhelmed by the way we felt. Silent tears ran down both of my cheeks as I came down from the most powerful orgasm I had ever experienced.
I slept peacefully for the first time in months.
Monday, early afternoon
It will be hard for him.
Another pain inflicted by me. I winced at the thought. I never meant to hurt him again and here I was doing it one more time.
Hopefully, it will be the very last time. After today, he won't have to suffer because of me ever again. After today, he will be able to really live for himself like he so wanted to. After today, he will truly be free. It would be my last gift to him. That thought in itself was comforting.
I carefully dipped the ladle in the cauldron. I looked at the vial I was holding in my right hand. The exact same one Mother had used not so long ago.
The potion looked absolutely perfect. Not surprising. Potions had always been my forte.
I carefully filled the vial and looked at it for a while.
Then I slowly brought it to my lips and closed my eyes.
Goodbye world.
Goodbye Harry.
Goodbye Love.
Goodbye beautiful, perfect, strong man.
Goodbye piercing green eyes and messy black hair.
A tear silently ran down my cheek.
My fingers started shaking badly.
I slowly lowered my hand and opened my eyes.
Grey eyes met intense green eyes. God, I could drown in those eyes.
A thousand different emotions passed between us.
My life.
My call.
Now or never.
In an instant the decision was made. I poured the content of the vial back in the cauldron, threw the small tube in, murmured a quick spell and the potion vanished.
He smiled that gorgeous smile of his.
I gently grabbed his hand and led us back to my bedroom.
Monday.
What a beautiful day to start a new life.