DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter, the poem Give all to Love by Ralph Waldo Emerson or the song Hurt by Johnny Cash.
Give All to Love by Ralph Waldo Emerson
Give all to love;
Obey thy heart;
Friends, kindred, days,
Estate, good-fame,
Plans, credit and the Muse,-
Nothing Refuse.
'T is a brave master;
Let it have scope:
Follow it utterly,
Hope beyond hope:
High and more high
It dives into noon,
With wing unspent,
Untold intent;
But it is a god,
Knows its own path
And the outlets of the sky.
It was never for the mean;
It requireth courage stout.
Souls above doubt,
Valor unbending,
It will reward,-
They shall return
More than they were,
And ever ascending.
Leave all for love;
Yet, hear me, yet,
One word more thy heart behoved,
One pulse more of firm endeavor,-
Keep thee to-day,
To-morrow, forever,
Free as an Arab,
Of thy beloved.
Cling with life to the maid;
But when the surprise,
First vague shadow of surmise
Flits across her bosom young,
Of a joy apart from thee,
Free be she, fancy-free;
Nor thou detain her vesture's hem,
Nor the palest rose she flung
From her summer diadem.
Though thou loved her as thyself,
As a self of purer clay,
Though her parting dims the day,
Stealing grace from all alive;
Heartily know,
When half-gods go,
The gods arrive.
Chapter 1: Hurt
"I hurt myself today, to see if I still feel,
I focus on the pain, the only thing that's real.
The needle tears a hole, the old familiar sting.
Try to kill it all away, but I remember everything." –Hurt, by Johnny Cash
He still loved her, even if she didn't love him anymore. Every time he saw her, Draco Malfoy fell fast and hard for the woman who pretended he did not exist; every time she left he convinced himself that he didn't need her to live his life the way he wanted to. He reminded himself that he was young, handsome, rich, and pureblooded. He had the world at his fingertips.
He should have been happy, insanely so, that he was not really tied down; he could come and go as he pleased.
But Draco didn't want to come and go. He wanted to come home to his wife and son every night. He wanted consistency.
And he threw it all away on one night of foolishness.
He had been sitting in his room where he had been confined for weeks, shivering by the fire despite how warm the room was. His wounds had long since been fixed by a healer who had come in the first few days he had been back at the Manor, though it took much longer for his strength and body weight to get back to normal.
He had had a fever and was waiting for one of the elves to bring something to him. There had been a knock at the door; he had been irritated that the stupid elf didn't just apparate to his side and he snapped, "Get in here and be quick about it!"
The door opened and closed quickly and Draco hadn't bothered to look and make sure it was the elf. It wasn't until she was right beside him that he wished he had looked.
Ginny had always given Draco a bad feeling, an effect that not many people had on him. The way she had looked at him made him feel slightly sick to his stomach, and it wasn't because he was ill in the first place.
She had flung her arms around him and held on tight. "Oh Draco! I can't believe you're alive!"
"Yes, but if you don't pry yourself off soon I'll be smothered," he replied, pushing her away. She had far too much perfume on and dressed in a skimpy red dress like she was on her way to some sort of party.
Ginny started to giggle. "Oh you're so funny!"
"Is Hermione with you?" he asked.
"No," she replied rather icily, "she and Harry went out for dinner."
"Why aren't you with them?"
Ginny waved her hand as if to dismiss the question. She smiled and pronounced, "I said I had a headache. Hermione really is in a dreadful mood these days, always mumbling to herself and getting these far off looks and I really didn't want to listen to her go on all night long."
"Does she know I'm here?" Draco asked, feeling uncomfortable that she was staring at him again.
"I'll tell her right away when I see her," Ginny assured him.
As they drifted into an awkward silence, Tiny arrived with a potion for Draco. He drank it in one large gulp and immediately began to feel better.
"Did you want anything?" He regretted implying that he wanted her to stick around for a bit.
Their tea had arrived, and Ginny insisted that she get it for him since he was ill. He remembered asking Tiny for something to eat and then taking a drink of his tea. A strange sensation swept throughout him; it was as if he didn't have a care in the world. He felt happy and alive for the first time in a long time.
Smiling, he looked to Ginny to see if she felt happy too. She looked completely different to him in that moment; he found her strangely attractive and felt the urge to yell to the world that he was in love with Ginny. She had slipped something in his drink!
Fight it Draco! Fight the potion! With everything he had in him, Draco had tried to ignore the effects of the love potion but it was a very strong one. He found himself pulling Ginny towards him and kissing her. Stop! Draco screamed at his body, stop it!
Tiny arrived with food and he managed to push Ginny away from him and gasp, "Stop." He tried to tell Tiny to send help but ended up telling the elf not to bother him when he had guests with him. Then, to his horror, he demanded that the small elf leave.
As the potion became more powerful, Draco lost all control of his body and thankfully did not remember much after that.
He regretted letting her into his room that night with everything in him. He felt guilty and stupid and he hoped that it was something that would remain a secret. Ginny wouldn't tell if she knew what was good for her, and he would certainly never admit to anything.
But somehow she had found out. And right when he thought everything would be alright.
He knew how much it had hurt Hermione. He saw it in her face every time he looked at her. Her face was drawn tight and she had dark circles under those brown eyes that were so full of hurt and hatred. And every time he saw her she looked a little paler, a little thinner, and ten times more exhausted.
Draco feared for her health. He knew Hermione was working too hard, taking a fulltime position in the emergency ward of St. Mungo's and all the while being a mother to Luke. He offered on countless occasions to take Luke for a few days to allow her to catch up on her rest, but she only reminded him that she didn't need his pity; she had done just fine without him. And besides, she said, she didn't know what kind of filth her son would be exposed to lest she leave him alone.
So Draco let her go, let her leave him time after time, ripping his heart apart like it was the first time she left. Draco wanted her back in his arms with everything he had in him. He wanted her to smile when she looked at him, not frown and look away. He wanted to talk to her about meaningful things, not just exchange strained pleasantries and say a few words about the weather. He wanted things to be the way they had been when they had been newlyweds; their only problems being about who hogged the covers at night.
Draco didn't know how much longer he could stand it. Something within him was going to snap. He could feel it getting harder and harder to keep everything so perfect, to make himself appear not to care, to keep himself from going crazy and demanding that Hermione remain within his sight so he didn't have to worry.
But he had brought everything on himself. If anyone deserved to be miserable, it was him.
That was how he lived for the first three weeks. Miserable, depressed and completely isolated from everyone.
And then he snapped. Draco drank, he stayed out all night, and he gambled away huge amounts of his inheritance. Drinking helped numb the pain, staying out helped him focus on other things. Money didn't matter anymore; losing it seemed like nothing compared to everything else he lost. The only time he spent at his house in a sober state was when Hermione and Luke came over, but even then he had a drink in his hand.
Alcohol was his medication. It softened the world around him making sharp lines blur and bad thoughts disappear. He liked not thinking. He liked his alcohol.
Hermione disagreed. Apparently drinking was on her list of bad things. And he learned the hard way.
It was a Sunday morning when he opened the door and smiled at Hermione and Luke. Luke smiled too, wrapping his arms around Draco's legs.
"Hello Draco," Hermione said stiffly, as she did every time she visited. She never looked him in the eyes; like she was too disgusted to even look at him.
"Hey Hermione, Luke," he replied as cheerfully as possible watching Hermione, "I missed you."
He frowned as he saw her flinch and look at her feet.
"Daddy! Look what I can do!" Luke cried. He pulled a red ball from his pocket and set it on the ground. His face crumpled in concentration as he stared at the ball then broke into a triumphant smirk as the ball began to move.
"Great job Luke!" Draco smiled, picking up the miniature version of himself and carrying him into the house. He paused in the middle of the hallway and looked back. Hermione was still standing in the doorway, her hands clasped as if praying and blinking rapidly. She was crying.
"Hermione?" he asked softly, setting Luke on the ground and taking a small step toward her.
She flinched again and quickly dried her eyes, plastering a smile that was too cheerful on her face and muttering something about a piece of dust in her eyes.
Draco sighed. "Are you going to come in?"
She glared at him and hissed, "Yes!" She marched past him and went into their usual room.
Draco sighed again and followed her in. The room was filled with the same leather chairs and glass coffee tables that had been there since his childhood, the walls still dark green and heavy drapes blocked out most of the light. The only thing that had changed was the various toys and things scattered around the room, the product of Draco trying to win both Luke's affection and Hermione's trust that he could be a good father.
Luke was already playing with something that was in the far corner. Hermione sat down in one of the chairs and watched the child play. She ignored Draco when he sat down in the chair beside her and scooted as far away from him as possible without moving to another chair.
He studied her as she watched Luke play. She would smile faintly when he did something funny, frown when he didn't understand a puzzle and even mimicked the correct hand movements to solve a Rubik's Cube.
That was when he saw that she wasn't wearing her wedding ring. Apparently she hadn't wasted any time getting back into the Draco-is-dead-to-me-and-I'm-single routine.
Thoughts rushed through his head all at once. Was she seeing someone? Did she ever think of him and what they had been? Was she happy? Or miserable like him? Did she miss him? Did she imagine him every time she kissed someone else?
He felt like his head was going to explode with the rage he felt as he thought of her being with someone else. He shook as he stood up and went to a small table by the window grabbing the first bottle of alcohol he came to and gulping down a glass quickly.
It didn't help. He poured another glass. That didn't help either. He took the bottle with him as he went back to his chair.
He heard a loud sigh from his left as he began drinking straight out of the bottle.
He ignored it. Hermione always sighed when she was around him. She never meant anything by doing it anyway; there was nothing bothering her that she felt inclined to tell him about.
This was just as well, since he was sure he was the one doing the bothering.
She sighed again. He ignored it again. She coughed. He ignored her. She coughed again. He tried to ignore it, but then realized there was a possibility that she was choking on something so he glanced quickly her way to check if she was turning blue.
Not a chance. She was glaring at him and then the bottle in his hand, her face very much skin colored. "What?" he asked.
"What do you think you're doing?" she hissed.
"Eating a mermaid. What does it look like I'm doing?" he said sarcastically.
"Don't get smart with me. I mean what do you think you're doing drinking in front of Luke?"
Draco looked towards Luke. He was engrossed with what he was doing; not even facing them. "For all he knows, this is water."
She snorted. "I can smell it from here. What are you going to say when he asks you why you stink?"
Draco smirked. "It's some new cologne."
Hermione glared at him.
"What's the big deal anyway? It's not like I'm giving it to him."
"Why should I have to explain myself? I'm his mother. I'm raising him, and what I say goes."
"What? I'm raising him too."
"You are not raising him. You see him for a few hours every other day. How does that and trying to buy his affection with presents count as raising him?"
"Well maybe if you actually let me spend time with him… you and me sitting here awkwardly watching him play alone doesn't count. Let me take him to the park. Let me take him on a trip."
"No."
"Why?" Draco asked, his voice getting louder.
"How am I supposed to know that you won't go dump him on some nanny while you go and do only God know what? How do I know that you won't take him with you while you go partying?"
"How will you know if you don't let me try!?" he demanded.
"I don't want to take any chances. If you are willing to drink in front of him, what else are you going to do?"
"Do you really think I'm that stupid?"
"Well your actions lately haven't made you look very smart." She crossed her arms.
"Oh, I see. So because of one mistake I'm now so stupid that I can't even be alone with my own son?"
She looked away. "It's not only that. Other things have led me to this decision."
"Like what?" he questioned.
"Oh I don't know! Think about it for a minute!"
"Tell me Hermione, can I do anything right?"
"I don't know Draco. You tell me!"
"Stop holding all this shit over my head Hermione! Do you honestly think that if I had really wanted to be with Ginny that I would be doing everything in my power to get her away from Potter? Would I really put any effort into trying to spend time with you and Luke when I could just disappear? For being as smart as you are, Hermione, you really don't think that much do you?"
"Shut up! Just shut your stupid mouth! I have single-handedly raised Luke for three years. I know what is best for him! And if I don't want him around a cheating drunk, well that's my decision isn't it!" she shouted.
"Lucas is my child too! You cannot take him away from me! I won't allow it!" he shouted back.
"Watch me!" she cried, getting up quickly and picking up Luke who was watching with wide eyes.
"No," Draco exclaimed, getting to his feet, "you won't win this time, Hermione. I won't let you. If you don't let me see my son, I will take you to court and they can decide."
Hermione narrowed her eyes. "You wouldn't dare! Besides, they don't even know you're alive. Why would they believe it's really you?"
"That is easily changed."
"You can try as hard as you like, Draco, but you are not going to get your way. Not this time." She pushed past him and walked out the door.
Draco smirked. Yes, it was true that no one really knew for sure he was alive, though he had heard the ridiculous rumors. It was time to put those rumors to rest in a way only a Malfoy could.
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A/N: Tell me what you think!