"Obliviate..." He whispered, the hopelessness in his tone echoing through the frozen night. The young man closed his eyes, a futile attempt at best, to block the cold. After what seemed like days, or maybe even years, he opened them again to behold the shadows in the snow, the shadows that grasped to a figure that he would never touch again. He promised himself.
Draco Malfoy knelt next to the young witch crumpled in the snow. The night was silent, as if holding its breath as the young man brushed his pale fingers on her motionless cheek. The sound of an owl could be heard through the trees; at that disturbance he stiffened, and leaned down to pick up the brightest witch of their age. Their shadows could be seen on the ground, and as he glanced down it was as if he could hear the lingering echoes of laughter, arguments, kisses, and late nights when the moonlight lit up her smile in a way that would always haunt him.
As he approached the castle, he looked around to be sure there were no loitering ghosts, and then placed a kiss, as light as that of a shadow, on her forehead. "Goodbye my love..." No one would ever know of the aqueous crystals that kissed her cheeks even after his lips left.
"Morning Hermione!" A masculine voice called, as said witch's fiance approached and placed a kiss on her cheek. "Good morning Ronald," muttered Hermione as she smiled up at him from her seat at the Weasley's kitchen table. But as she turned her gaze away, she knew in her heart...something wasn't right.