a/n: okay so I decided to make a new fic. Since my last one was removed. And besides, that was rubbish, right? Ehhh? Haha. Okay c:

SHORT CHAPTER YES

BEST VIEWED ON IPOD


A Silver Lining

A story by Draco Swagfoy


If seeing your old loved one, said to be dead, does it count as you being insane?

Who knows, when you open your eyes tiredly, you see her. And then you realize it is reality. But does it count as you being crazy? When you're sure she's gone.

Being the son of two Death Eaters and being the only one to betray their side was hard. Harder than he had thought. He ran away. Ran away from his family.

He was the right hand of the most powerful Dark wizard ever. If Voldemort was to win the war, then he would be that Slytherin Prince Voldemort told him he would be. Voldemort promised him that. Which was odd.

The night before he started his own little rebellion, he stared at the ceiling with every bit of mixed emotion. He was laying on the bed of a murderer; his bed. He became a murderer because he was born to be.

You can always choose where to go. He thought about that statement for years. Sometimes he stares at space and realizes what he's done. He would then feel guilty, as it blocks his throat and makes it hard for him to breathe.

"Every cloud has a silver lining."

"Ha. I don't believe in that."

"Try to sometimes. It really does."

"I'll try."

And she was wrong. No cloud has a silver lining. Because in this cloud he was under, with all these lightnings and thunders, there was no sign that the sun would rise up again. Nothing at all.

"You will realize it sometime, though."

"That sometime being a million years later."

"Well, at least you will realize."

"Yeah, but I've probably done all the horrible things."

"You aren't horrible."

"But what I do is."

He still remembers that time. When it was just him and the girl he once loved. Believed to be dead now, as he had never heard of her once again. There was soreness in his heart when he had realized that.

He still remembers that moment they sat across the lake and held hands. He can never forget. How could he? If it's the last peaceful memory he had of her.

"You know, it's odd that the two of us are together."

"Who fucking cares?"

"A lot of people do."

"Let them judge all they want. Bums."

That time she had slapped him playfully to his use of inappropriate words. That time, from a very long time, he had smiled. Grinned, even.

"People are judgemental."

"Ha ha. Why, yes they are."

"You know, people judge you."

"Who doesn't?"

"I don't. And practically your mother doesn't either."

He smiled at her. And she ran her free hand through his hair with a sweet smile that he can never ever forget.

"Why do you think people judge you?"

"Because I'm a horrible person."

"You aren't horrible."

"Admit it that I am."

"No. Because you aren't."

"I still think that I am."

"I don't."

He smiled at this again, blushing. This girl had a way of making him special. Making him feel loved. And he doubts he makes her feel the same. He had never been good in relationships.

He stared at the ceiling for more than an hour. Everyone was asleep and he wasn't. It was because he couldn't.

He narrowed his eyes at the ceiling. He could've done it. He could've ran away and avoided the war. He could've taken the hand of that girl he loved and ran away with her. But he didn't. Because he was a goddamned coward. That was what he always was.

If she was there, she would argue and tell him he wasn't. But she wasn't there with him, holding his hand and telling him to stop insulting himself. That was what he always does. Because he believes he was worth insulting.

Judging from his being.

"You aren't a monster."

"You know what I did? You don't! I killed a man!"

"Not technically."

"How can you be so calm about this? Aren't you ever frightened by the fact that your boyfriend is a murderer?"

You know what she did? She smiled. She stood up and walked to him. She took his face in her hands and gave his lips a soft kiss.

"No," she whispers.

"Everyone makes mistakes. And that is just one of yours."

"I've done far too many mistakes."

"You think? I don't."

"Why do you always have to believe that I'm innocent when I'm not?"

"I don't think you're innocent."

"Why?"

"Because no one's innocent."

"You are."

She lets out a laugh and presses her lips softly against his. "No, I'm not."

"Humor me."

"You're humored."

"Fuck off."

"Ouch."

He grinned slightly and leaned in to give her a kiss.

It's just this fact that she was gone that he was reliving all these memories. He had left her on her own when the war broke out. She had her friends. But they wouldn't be able to protect her like he could.

He wished he could turn back time.

But only she could do that.

Once the news broke out about her being gone, everyone was celebrating. He tried to hide the pain on his face and the wince he did when it was announced.

"She deserved to be killed outright!" his best friend, Theodore Nott, exclaimed.

"Yes!" People had agreed to loud cheers. He had remained blank and quiet. He missed her awfully. Since that day, he had been pretty moody then.

He blinked away the water starting to build in his eyes. He was too upset to do anything. He remained frozen, eyes narrowed at the ceiling. He needed revenge.

Yes, vengeance was the answer to his problem.

She deserved justice and she was going to get it.

That was the start of Draco Malfoy's rebellion.

He jumped off his bed and put on some decent clothes. The clock ticked and ticked. And then a bell rang and he knew it was already twelve midnight. He took his wand and pocketed some money.

He opened his door quietly and stepped out, closing it with a silent click. He made his way down the Manor and to the kitchen, where he ate until he wasn't hungry anymore. Of course he needed to be full if he was going to flee. He'd die of starvation if he wasn't.

He put his dishes on the sink ever so silently and walked, making sure to avoid the places which made creaking sounds when he stepped on them. He walked to the Music Room in attempt to find a white cloth he owned.

He found it by the piano. It had the print 'DM' on it on pure gold. It was given to him by his grandfather when he was still seven years old. And he still uses it. Because the silk was so fine and the print was flawlessly etched on it.

He took time to adore it at first. But then he got to real business. He shut his eyes and tore the cloth. He tore the part where the 'DM' was placed. He wrapped the torn cloth around his right arm and took his pen by the shelf near the piano.

He wrote a goodbye letter on the remaining cloth and put it back on top of the piano. Before he could go, he secured the white cloth he had wrapped around his arm.

Then he headed for the front door. He opened it with a silent creak and closed it just the same. He started out slow, walking outside the gates. Once he was far, he started to run.

I'm sorry I wasn't the perfect son you both wanted. I've ran away. And you'll never find me unless I find you. This cloth here symbolizes my devotion to find this one girl I have left in the war. Even if she's dead. That one girl that when announced the death of, everyone went wild with happiness. This means I'm joining the other side. Whether you like it or not. Let Voldemort find me, let him kill me, but I swear I'm not coming back.

That was what he wrote on the cloth. He had been a sinner. But just like she told him, people make mistakes. And this was just one of his. It wouldn't count as a mistake if it would turn out as a great thing in the end.

"It's all going to come into an end someday."

"Someday but not today."

"Not today, though."

"Yeah."

"You are going to stay with me, right? When the war breaks out? You're going to be here to protect me?"

"I will be."

That was the biggest lie he had ever said! He felt so guilty, he could cry. He was Draco Malfoy. A traitor, a murderer, and a liar. Because of his lie, she was gone. He wouldn't stop blaming himself about her passing.

"Don't you think it's a bit odd?"

"What is?"

"That everything seems perfectly calm today."

"It isn't that odd."

"It is. People are supposed to be doing something. It's war night."

"They are. But they aren't panicking doing it."

She nods and stares out of the Astronomy Tower. "The air feels so tight."

"I can feel Dark Magic coming its way to us."

"Fills the air, huh?"

"Yeah."

She took his hand and clutched it tightly. "You aren't going to leave."

"I won't. I promise." He held her hand and she loosened her grip on his hand. She relaxed. And they stayed still for a few minutes.

It was then there was a loud explosion and there were screams. "We should go down," he suggested and she nodded. Little did she know he was fighting against them. Not with them.

He had felt so bad. He had felt so dirty. He was this one Slytherin Pureblood who was a lifelong enemy of hers which she had just trusted then. He had her trust, and he just played with it.

"Draco... Merlin.. We need help," she breathed as she held the wall for support. They were in the dungeons, where there's only the two of them. He hesitated. He let out a sigh and looked down, gripping his wand as a drop of sweat trailed his eyebrow.

"Draco?" she asked, staring at him. He gripped his wand tighter and shut his eyes. He was in pain. In doubt. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." He shook his head and wiped the sweat on his forehead. "Draco. What. Is. Wrong?" she asked once again, bending to try to meet his eyes but he looked away.

"I told you. Nothing."

He clenched his fists and walked away, guilty and upset. "Get out of here," he said flatly and turned to the stairs and walked up. Then the war began again.

"Draco! Wait!" she shouted and he halted, frozen. He heard footsteps to him and he turned around to find her once again. "What?" he snapped.

She was panicking, making weird gestures. She was thinking of a thing to say. "What?" he snapped again, impatient as ever. She pouted and froze, staring at the floor. She sighed sadly.

"I love you, okay?"

"Okay."

And with that, he left. Ouch. He had never known how much of a bad guy he was. And here he was, running in the forest, thinking she was alive. To take back all of his mistakes.

He will find her. He promised himself he would. She was always there. Always everywhere.

"Draco... Come..." his father gestured for him and held out his hand.

He hesitated as he saw, by the corner of his eye, that girl turn to look at him. He wanted to stay with her. But he can't. Because he was a coward. He would always go to his family. Although she would ask him to do the same.

He stepped down with weird stiffness. It was like when he walked, the ground where he stepped went ice cold. The walk of shame. The walk of the coward.

He looked by his shoulder slightly, seeing her flinch. He was welcomed into a hug by Voldemort.

And seeing the look of victory on their side, but the look of desperation and defeat to hers. It had felt so eerily awkward for him. So airway-blocking.

He had come back to life and realized what he had done. Darkness dawned upon him. He looked around and saw trees and trees and trees. "Lumos," he said and his wand lit.

"Fuck," he cursed as he stepped on a twig and stumbled. The breezy wind flew past him and he shuddered. He wrapped his arms around himself as he continued walking.

There was rustling. Weird rustling.

He turned around swiftly, in attempt to find someone. But there was no one. He shrugged it off and walked again, his old swagger coming back to present.

It was until he heard another rustle. This time, he had stopped. He stayed frozen but grew more cautious, eyes narrowed at the dark.

"Stupefy!" numerous young people shouted. Draco ducked and the Stupefies from the four sides collided in the center. Draco threw hexes everywhere, unsure where the whole chaos came from.

He stumbled on another twig and fell face down the floor. He yelled in pain and tried to get back up. It was then when someone barked, "Imperio!"

He was in euphoria. Feeling very light and ecstatic. Stand up and reveal yourself. If you're a part of the Dark side, kill yourself. The voice commanded him and he felt so controlled.

He had been thought to fight off the Imperius Curse but he just can't now. He was too vulnerable to do so. He felt like he needed to do this.

He started standing up slowly, eyes half-closed, as he was ecstatic enough. Spacey, even. "I.. am.. D-D-Dr.. Dra-"

He heard a few bickering. "Drake-"

"Draco..."

"Nis."

The Imperius Curse had been lifted as everyone had their faces turned to someone. Draco knew, because he had his wand lit and it was directed to them. "His name's Draconis," he heard someone say.

"Are you kidding me?" sounded so much like Fred Weasley. "That's Draco Malfoy!" George continued. "How sure are you?" the someone asked again.

"100% sure."

"Hm. Yeah. He looks like Malfoy but he isn't."

"Are you just defending this 'Malfoy look alike' because Malfoy was once your boyfriend?" Fred snapped.

"No. Although he reminds me of him a lot."

There were sounds of murmuring. "I suppose it won't hurt to use another Unforgivable Curse for identification, right?" George said maliciously.

"George, Fred, don't," it was Ron's voice.

Draco's vision was getting really blurry, and he doesn't know why. It wasn't the Imperius Curse. It had something to do with the face down stumble.

"Oh shush, little bro. We got this," Fred and George said. "Back off everyone."

They did.

"Crucio!"

There was a blinding stab of pain in Draco's mind. And also his body. He had felt immense pain. There were multiple swords that was trying to cut through him. So many acidic substances spilled at him. Too many pests biting his flesh.

"Please! Please... STOP!" Draco, for once, begged.

They didn't stop as begged and the blinding pain was still there. Draco couldn't help but yell in pain. He tried biting his lip to suppress himself but it didn't work.

"Stop, please, guys!"

But it wasn't his voice he heard. It was that someone who confronted Fred and George. It was only now he realized whose voice that was. Since everything was just so clear.

The curse was lifted and he could breathe again. He panted and wiggled on the ground. "Fred, George. Go back to the HQ!"

There were hums of anger and disappointed and a pop of disapparition. "Are you sure about this?" Ron asked. There was a hum of agreement.

"I'm a hundred percent sure. This is Malfoy. And he's ran away. He can be a reliable source for us."

The something eerie about the voice is that he knew it. Even if it's high pitched or low. It was that voice. The voice of his old lover who was said to be gone. She wasn't. Because she was here.

Hermione Granger was here.


chapter end notes: so I guess that was too obvious, huh? Seeing as all fics I write is Dramione. Haha. Please don't boo me if you find this as a cliffhanger. I'm trying my best to upload chapter 2 by this week. Hopefully.

ROOTS :) x