A/N: Hey everyone! This story is written for a challenge over at MoonlightForgotten's forum The Houses Competition! I recommend you go check out her forum if you want to participate. I apologize for lack of plot I only had two days to write this as I am going away on vacation so I did what I could in the time I had to write this.
House: Hufflepuff, Category: Themed, Prompts: "You're Lying," Word Count: 1,188.
Disclaimer: All rights go to J.K Rowling for Harry Potter and the characters that she created.
Warning: The subject matter of this story may not be suitable for all readers, readers discretion is advised.
Cold was the night on an autumn's day, leaves had just began to fall showing that winter was only a few miles away. A warm fire cackled within a fire mantel, the embers giving a soft orange glow. It hadn't been long since the end of Wizarding War and everything had just began to settle down. It was supposed to be a time of peace...a time of relief. A petite brown haired girl sat from across the warm flames, sipping her tea so quietly that nobody could tell that she was even there. Many thoughts had been on her mind, though one in particular gave her a storm of anxiety.
The clock above the mantel gave a small quiet tick, slowly counting the minutes going by. A minute turned into an hour, an hour turned into a day, a day turned into a week until finally it turned into a month. One whole month without a word. One whole month without knowing where he was. One whole month without knowing if he was safe. No, she knew not where he was nor if he were alive, she knew nothing than the cause of her misery and her loneliness.
Time seemed to stand still for her...everything seemed to be gloomy. Everything was quiet, even her emotions. Emotions...it had been a long time since she felt positive emotions. Happiness, joy, pleasure...all gone from her life. What was joy again? She couldn't remember the last time that she had felt joy, it was nothing more than a distant memory for her. Though, this would seem odd wouldn't it? The war had ended and those around her felt it, so why didn't she? No, that's silly, she knew why. Everyone knew why...there was never any word from him. All this time, all this suffering, all this loneliness...it was all because of him. He did this to her, yet she still loved him.
She watched out the same window day after day, watching as winter crept up upon the land. Still, there was no sign of him. She watched as the children ran amongst the snow covered grass. She watched as her friends tried to get her to come out. Still, this did not make her feel joy...in fact, it brought her nothing but sadness. She watched as the world gave up on her last bit of hope, leaving nothing left but an empty shell of the once brilliant witch. She never left her spot by the fire, not even an inch. All was quiet for her, nothing made a sound. However, this sound was broken by a hollow knock.
She sat still in her chair, seemingly numb to the sound. But there it was again, only...it was more demanding. She turned her head to the door, taking a moment to take the sound in. It couldn't hurt right? It couldn't hurt to get up one last time...to see if it were him. Sighing, she slowly stood up. She put her brown wavy hair into a tight bun and made her way to the front door. Perhaps this would finally be it, perhaps she would finally get her answers.
She opened the door to greet a young man dressed all in black. Did she know him? If she had, it was from a memory of long ago...yet still, there was something familiar. The platinum blonde hair...the piercing silver eyes, it was almost impossible to not recognise the man. Though it wasn't his appearance that got her attention, no, it was the paper he had been holding.
The man cleared his throat before speaking, "are you Hermione Granger?" he asked. It seemed almost like a joke to her, this man of all people was asking if she were Hermione. She sighed internally, she knew it would be nothing but a lost cause. Still, she couldn't help but wonder why he was here...why the man who tormented her throughout her entire school year would been standing at her front door. "Yes, I am. And who's asking?" The brunette replied with a bitter tone.
"Have you forgotten already? It's only been a year...but if you truly have forgotten it's me, Draco." The blonde answered, his face seeming expressionless yet his eyes showed sadness. Hermione rolled her eyes slightly, "what do you want? she asked. Sure, she had let bigones be bigones during their last year at Hogwarts but that still didn't keep her from remembering all the hell that he had put her through.
"Listen, I know I'm the last person you want to talk to right now...but I have some news regarding your husband, Ron Weasley." Draco stated as he handed her the paper he head been holding. Hermione was completely speechless. Never would she have thought that she would find out what happened to her beloved ginger nor did she think that it would be Draco of all people to have gotten the information. Hesitantly, she took the letter and opened it up. Tears threatened to fall as she read the letter.
"I'm sorry Granger...I wish I had better news." The blonde commented with a grim expression. Tears slowly ran down her cheeks as she put down the letter, "t-this can't be true..i-it must be a mistake. Tell me it's a mistake!" Hermione murmured. "I'm sorry, I really am...but I can't change the truth. Weasley is dead and there is nothing we can do about it." Draco informed bluntly. Of course he didn't like saying it out loud, but he knew giving her false hope wouldn't do her any good.
"You're lying, you always are! This is a mistake I tell you, he's not dead!" The brunette wailed, hitting Draco repeatedly in the chest. "I'm sorry Granger...but I'm not lying, I wish I were." Draco apologized, genuinely sorry for Hermione's loss. "G-get out." Hermione sobbed. The young man was hesitant, unsure whether he should leave her alone in her current condition. "I said get out!" Hermione cried, and slammed the door without giving the blonde any time to react. Draco sighed but in the end decided it would be best to do as she said and left without another word.
Hermione bawled as she fell to the floor only to wrap her arms around her knees. The embers of the fire cackled amongst the sounds of her sobs, the clock ticking to the rhythm of her now broken heart. Hours had gone by and silence fell amongst the cottage once again. No more cries could be heard, no embers cackled from the dead fire, the only sound to remain was the sound of the clock.
Tick. Tock. It rang throughout the darkened room. Tick. Tock. It had all disappeared from thought. Tick. Tock. An opened letter laid by the clock. Tick. Tock. She could no longer feel her broken heart. Tick. Tock. Her time was up.