If You Were Mine

by little-miss-snape123

Lucius can't stand the way Ron touches Hermione, especially when he thinks she should have been his.

I could have slapped that Weasley boy. When I saw his arms around you. As if you were his property.

I could tell you didn't enjoy his open displays of affection, I could see it in your eyes. Those endless puddles of mud in a hopelessly dull face.

I didn't slap him, of course. How odd would that have seemed? If I slapped the boyfriend of an 18 year old mudblood. Someone I barely knew.

I'd only ever encountered you properly a few times before. At the Quidditch World Cup, I had my face safe behind a mask. Yours practically glowed with fear in the moonlight. I watched as you were hit with a hex, I didn't catch who sent it. I watched you go flying back in to a gnarled tree, it was almost as if everything happened in slow motion. Your hand shakily raised to feel the blood seeping from your scalp, before your eyes fluttered shut, your limp body allowing blood to fall in streams down your face. You were the first, and only injury I observed that night. Beyond the torture of those muggles anyway. I couldn't help but turn to look at you as we marched on, your figure had slumped sideways on to the floor, your hair matted with blood. A feeling of nausea bubbled in to my stomach. I slipped away from the crowd, somehow unnoticed.

You'll probably question one day, why I did it. Why I came to your aid, why I lifted you up cautiously, pushing your matted hair out of your face. Why I healed the wound on your head, surprisingly small considering the amount of blood congealed on your face. I'll never give you an answer, because I'll never understand it myself. I don't know what possessed me, perhaps it was the apathy growing like a cancer inside me. Perhaps it was the disgust that we'd resorted to hurting children in order to achieve our aims.

'Are you okay?' I asked.

'I'm fine, dizzy, thirsty' You said vaguely, I wondered whether you were concussed.

'Does your neck hurt?'

'Aches' You nodded. I think you were concussed.

'You probably have a concussion, you need to be careful, I'll clean you up a bit, but after that I can't help you'

I think I saw you nod vaguely, your eyes closing briefly.

'Can you stand?'

I helped you to your feet, the warmth of my body soaking in to your frozen one, you were only wearing flimsy clothes. I'd prepared for this night, you hadn't.

'Where are your friends?'

'Maybe, I don't know. They ran somewhere' You gesticulated vaguely to the woods, I couldn't help but notice the mud and blood mingling on your hand. Mudblood. It was the literal representation of what you were.

'Without you?' I stopped staring at your hands and turned to look in to your eyes.

Hermione nodded in confusion, struggling to put her thoughts in order. The words she wanted to say seemed to be randomly assorting themselves in her mind. She started to believe that she may be concussed.

'Everyone just ran, I'm obviously not the most agile' You said after a brief pause.

I smirked at your comment, you seemed to be slightly more alert. I wasn't quite comfortable with leaving you yet. I should have been happy to leave you, I should have been able to laugh at the blood dried on your skin.

'I'm going to just, wash some of the blood off' I murmured, your brow furrowed. It only strikes me now what a bizarre situation for you this must have been. I was only thinking of how bizarre it was for me. You nodded. I placed my hand on your shoulder, to steady myself as I began administering the charms. Your eyes didn't watch my wand, you were watching my eyes. With something crossed between fear and gratitude. I found it difficult to concentrate on the charms, my eyes kept glancing back to yours. The expression in them was so odd, I wondered what mine looked like. Whether you could see anything through the icy blue. I felt like you could, like you'd slipped underneath the ice. Silly girl. You'd never be able to resurface.

A small explosion somewhere in the distance alerted me to the fact that I'd abandoned the revel. I stood up lithely, looking at your small figure beneath me, you looked crumpled. Your body looked tired. Your eyes however were bright. Filled with fright, alive from the fight. I turned and ran, I ran back in to the darkness.

I saw you twice in relatively quick succession after that.

The first time I saw you after that, you were being dragged out of the lake. The second triwizard challenge, it bought memories of the revel flooding back. You were limp and lifeless, spluttering in to life. I saw the delight in your eyes as you realised Krum had rescued you, you threw your arms round him. Hugging him tightly. I'd say it was heart warming, but it was more nauseating than anything. I watched you the entire time, you didn't see me at all.

As a School Governor, I was entitled to attend the Yule Ball. Entitled was perhaps a bit of a stretch, it was more of a requirement. It was actually quite delightful, the castle looked spectacular. I was glad it was only older students, it was mildly more mature than it would have been otherwise. There wasn't much enjoyable company, I spent most of the time on my own. I don't enjoy many people's company, so I was used to my own.

I almost didn't recognise you when I saw you with Krum. I didn't have you as the type to date an international sports star. You easily stole the limelight from the other girls, even that veela girl. Mind you, the concept of these mutant beauties masquerading as witches repulsed me to the point where their beauty was nullified. To me, finding a veela attractive is as incomprehensible as finding a dog attractive. I wondered when I stopped thinking the same about mudbloods.

I think the Yule Ball afforded us our first friendly conversation, we never could seem to strike a balance between animosity and amicability. We were like a pendulum, swinging from one extreme to the other. I needed to escape the sweaty hall, the Weird Sisters were really excelling themselves in exciting the crowds.

I escaped in to a courtyard, which had a slight silvery glow about it, due to the magical lights scattered about everywhere. I didn't even notice you at first, I was preoccupied with admiring the tree in the middle of the courtyard. It had been decorated spectacularly, Dumbledore had really outdone himself. It's when I looked away from the tree that I noticed you, slumped on a bench, with your head in your hands. Your purple silk robes draped over you elegantly, pooling at your feet. Your hair almost matched the texture of the silk. I pondered whether to approach you, or whether to leave you to wallow alone in your obvious misery.

I approached you, I stood before you and your head turned to look at me.

'Oh' Was all you said. I gestured to the empty space on the bench, asking wordlessly if I may sit. You nodded, probably confused as to where I'd come from, why I always arrived in your hour of desperation. We sat silently for a minute or two, I wondered whether I'd made a mistake by approaching you, I don't know what I'd expected.

'Why are you here?' You asked eventually, your pathetic sniffles having been quelled.

'It's too hot inside, the teenagers are getting a bit too raucous'

You smiled. It seemed like you were stopping yourself from saying something, I had a feeling it was to do with my age.

'Say whatever you're thinking Miss Granger, I promise not to hex you at all this evening' I said with humorous sincerity.

'Nothing, I was just thinking... Perhaps you're getting a bit too... Old, to appreciate the party scene'

'I have a feeling you don't appreciate it either?'

'Isn't really my scene' You said, I almost laughed at that. I couldn't quite imagine you as the archetypal party animal.

'What is your scene?' I asked, I could almost feel the years of bitter resentment peeling off me like layers of skin. How delightful it was to feel free.

'I think you can guess'

'You might surprise me, in fact. You do surprise me'

'Why?'

'I've heard the tales, the philosopher's stone, the basilisk, the werewolf adventures and I know you had something to do with the disappearance of that hippogriff' I smiled slightly to show you that I wasn't bothered, it was all in the past. If I'd stopped to think about it, of course I would have minded, rage would have filled me. But I was just so enjoying not worrying about anything at all. 'And of course, Draco told me you punched him'

Your eyes widened. 'You're really not going to hex me this evening?'

I nodded.

'Then, why are you saying these things? I come across as such an enemy to you'

'Perhaps that's why I'm saying them. In black and white terms I should despise you'

'And you don't?'

'No' I said, after a thoughtful pause.

'Why not?' You asked cautiously. I didn't really have an answer for you, I don't know myself. So I simply shrug my shoulders and stretch my arms out casually. I look away from your suffocating eyes and look at that beautiful tree again. I can still feel your gaze on me, it isn't piercing so much as surrounding. It envelopes me and makes me feel as if I'm being crushed. It suffocates me, and I don't understand why, with guilt, regret, you remind me of everything my life could have been. If I hadn't been foolish enough to join a war.

'Answer me this. Why were you crying?' I looked back towards you, your skin glowing from that ethereal silvery light.

'I wasn't' You replied almost instantly.

'I can still see the tracks of tears on your face'

You paused, clearly deliberating on whether to tell me. Me, a man who wasn't quite sure whether or not to hate you. Why on Earth should you trust me?

'I try so hard. With everything. I put my all, in to everything. And nobody notices, nobody notices that I'm even here. Because I'm not beautiful, pretty girls have the attention'

Silence fell between us as I digested your words. I didn't know how to reply, to your sad little statement. It was true, of course. Beautiful girls were noticed more, their achievements applauded more loudly. I didn't say, that I thought you were one of the pretty girls. I don't think you had any idea that one day you'd have men fawning over you, you just couldn't see it.

'You stole the focus tonight' I said quietly. I could practically feel my gaze piercing in to you.

'I think people were just shocked I had a date'

'And such a famous date, is he the reason you were upset?'

'No. Somebody else' You smiled sadly. 'Didn't you bring your wife tonight?'

'Not her scene'

You smiled genuinely, dipping your head to hide your grin.

'I've heard stories about you. Horrific stories. And, I've witnessed some of the horror you're capable of subjecting, so I don't doubt they're true. Why are you so kind to me? A muggleborn?'

'Perhaps I'm just too old now, to waste my time and energy on hating everybody'

'Then why march? At the World Cup?'

I wondered when this would come up, my behaviour had been too odd for it to just be forgotten.

'Because'

'Is that all? Because?' You asked incredulously. 'Then why would you heal me? Why would you show me such kindness?'

'Don't raise your voice Miss Granger, this evening is too lovely and this courtyard too serene'

'Then tell me why! I don't understand you!'

'Why didn't you tell anyone I helped you? Why didn't you tell anyone I was on that march? You could have me sent to Azkaban and yet you choose not to'

The tension was thick with unanswered questions.

'Because... I don't think you're evil. I think you're stuck'

'Oh, well, enlighten me, you've clearly made a character assessment of me' I managed to say with only a hint of sarcasm. You observed me closely, choosing whether or not to reply.

'I think you did believe in the cause strongly. I think you were rash and joined, and it backfired. Because it became your life, your entire social circle. And now you can't leave it, you're stuck' Hermione rambled off quickly. Fury filled me, I hadn't expected your judgement to hit so close to home.

'Well, mudblood, how would you feel if I told you that I still believe you shouldn't be allowed in this world?' I practically growled, it was a defensive action.

'But do you want me dead?'

I was stunned. I didn't expect you to react so benignly to my venom.

'No, of course not'

Silence fell once again. I know I'd just proven your point, I'm glad that you didn't have the indecency to gloat. Minutes stretched out, we both just looked towards that mystical tree, and the calm serenity it exuded. The music from the hall could still be heard faintly. I should have left then.

'I don't hate you either' You said quietly, your voice cracked slightly as you said it. You turned to me once again, with your suffocating eyes. You were surrounding me in that fog of yours, you were drowning me in your gaze. I eventually turned to meet your eyes, my gaze piercing through that intangible fog.

'I shouldn't have come here tonight' I said, standing up, shaking off the tension that had just been there moments before. You were too young, and too filled with impurity. I was too old, and too confused. Much too confused. You stood up after me, a swirl of emotions in your eyes.

'Why not? It's been nice. Hasn't it? To not hate each other?'

I couldn't meet your eyes, I turned on my heel and left.

I thought about you often, your name was mentioned quite frequently by Rita Skeeter, I didn't believe those rumours about you. You just didn't strike me as that kind of girl.

Then He came back.

I was enrolled once more in his service, you were always a possible target. You probably had no idea but getting you captured was one of the Dark Lord's biggest wishes, it would send shockwaves out in to the wizarding world, it would truly herald his return. I was supposed to kidnap you, the night before you returned to Hogwarts for your fifth year. The Dark Lord didn't trust many, this was a privilege. One I didn't take advantage of. I stood outside your house, my wand at the ready. I couldn't do it, I watched you through your living room window. You and your family curled up on sofas, simply watching TV. I couldn't do it, I couldn't take you to your death.

So I took the punishment of failing the task. My resentment blossomed inside me, my apathy twisting in to dislike. Then I stopped thinking of you, other events took precedence. You were pushed to the back of my mind, I was struggling daily to keep some hold on my own life. I think you'll remember where we next met. It was that night at the Ministry of Magic, where you accompanied Potter in his futile attempt to rescue Sirius Black. None of us expected him to turn up with an entourage, you probably recognised the surprise in my eyes at seeing you there. That familiar feeling of unease crept up on me, I struggled to stop myself from looking at you, Bellatrix had hold of you, her wand pressed painfully far in to your neck.

'Just hand it over Potter' My voice sounded alien to me.

'Where's Sirius?' Harry shouted angrily, the boy was an idiot. It was plain to see, he was aggressive and ignorant. I couldn't help but laugh at his stupidity, surely Potter had realised what was going on? That Sirius Black had NEVER been here. That it was all a ruse, perhaps Potter just didn't want to see what was going on. That he'd led his friends to their deaths, because we'd shown our identities, how could we ever let you go now? I faltered slightly as I realised I might watch you die tonight.

The next few minutes passed by in a blur, I saw you mouthing something about an escape. I didn't stop you, I barely even pretended to try. I did however go after Potter, the Dark Lord wouldn't care about the others so much. My life hinged on this prophecy. But I lost sight of him, I lost sight of everyone till I was just running aimlessly through odd corridors and rooms. Until I slammed in to something, you clattered to the floor. Your wand spinning off to your side. We both looked at it for a second, you scrambled for it, I threw myself after it, wrestling pathetically with you. I twisted your wrist away from it and heard it crack, you released the wand and I grabbed it. You sobbed pathetically beneath me, our breathing was harsh and heavy in the otherwise quiet room. I watched you, you broken little thing. You'd grown up in the past year, you were barely recognisable as the girl from the Yule Ball. You wimpered incomprehensible words as I pinned you down, I fought the urge to weep with you. That's how fraught my emotions were.

'Why did you come here?' I shouted desperately, my voice sounded weak and it threatened to break. You didn't reply, you just cried even louder. 'You're not supposed to be here! You're not.. Supposed to be here'

'I thought you were different' was all you managed to wimper out. My head fell in to your shoulder as I sobbed, I was straddling you, my entire body covering yours. Perhaps if I stayed like this you'd be safe.

'Stupid girl, they're going to kill you! They're going to kill you and I can't stop them! You stupid girl'

I felt your chest shuddering against mine, I forced myself to look at you, your bloodshot eyes and blotchy face, your lips were swollen and red. I couldn't stop myself looking at them, you were so fucking beautiful. Even like this. I pressed my lips to yours, I could feel my slight stubble scratching your skin. I devoured your mouth, the urgency forced me to abandon all thoughts of technique. I just knew that this was the best way I had of expressing my current emotions, my hand moved to grip your face, pulling at the skin urgently. To ensure that you were real, I stopped kissing you, my forehead just pushed painfully against yours and my tears melded in to yours. I clambered to my feet and held my hand out to you. You held your broken wrist out pathetically, I sighed and dropped to my knees, throwing your wand in to your lap, I hurriedly fixed your wrist.

'Ok?' I asked. You nodded, your face scrunched up as tears threatened to spill. 'Right, okay. We're getting out of here'

'No! My friends!' You shrieked. I almost punched a wall in exasperation.

'They're probably dead! I need to get you out of here right now!'

'WHY ME?' You shouted, allowing me to pull you to your feet. I dragged you along behind me out of the door and cautiously down the corridor, you struggled against me valiantly.

'DO I HAVE TO BREAK ANOTHER WRIST BEFORE YOU LISTEN TO ME?' I screamed at you, you hushed down and allowed me to lead you out of the department of mysteries. It was when we got to the foyer that I was blinded by the lights of the paparazzi.

Of course the next day papers were filled with our image, the haggard death eater pulling the injured little muggleborn. I was carted away almost instantly, our hands torn apart, despite your feeble protests. I was carted off to Azkaban. I didn't see you till after the war.

Everyone sat silently in the Great Hall, with that odd hollowness that follows these sorts of events. You were hunched over sadly, and that Weasley boy had his hands all over you. Trying to kiss you, as if that would make things any better. He was such an idiot, how on Earth could you go for somebody like that? I sat with my wife and son, and all I wanted to do was speak to you. I couldn't take my eyes off you, as if you'd crumble when I looked away. I waited desperately for your eyes to look to mine, for a look to assure me that you were okay.

You never looked my way.

You never once spoke to me after the war.

It's been years, so many years since, yet it still feels like my chest is being ripped open every time I see you. Every time I hear about you, you and that Weasley.

And I can't help but think every time I see you by his side, that under different circumstances, you would have been by my side. You would have been mine.