Title: Clandestine Fiasco
Characters: Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger
Rating: M, for language.
Genre:Angst!/Tragedy
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. Only JKR has the right to them. I only have stickers so don't sue me.
Summary: He blamed them. But he blamed himself the worst; he had created a clandestine fiasco in the greatest war of their life that he'll never forget.
Clandestine Fiasco
He blamed her.
It was her fault why he was here now, amidst the moonlight and the company of the gentle wind. If it wouldn't be because of her, of what she'd done, this would never have happened. Scratch that—this would never have happened. Nothing bad could have happened. It was her fault all along. He could have believed that if he's mind was just being plain cooperative and stop saying he's lying to himself.
"Damn it", he swore under his unsteady breathe.
He blamed him.
Potter.
The Boy Who Lived and Saved the Wizarding World-Twice . Yes, Harry Potter.
His nemesis for 6 long years. He blames him because he fucked up his duty. No—He did finish Voldemort right? Oh, but he didn't for him. He was the only one he asked of help, but the Boy Who Lived disappointed him. As always. Not that he really relied on Potter's heroism act, but he hoped he could have done something, anything—He had hope, but it turns out it's a hapless one. Inescapable.
"Liar", he said to the wind.
To top it all, he blamed himself the most.
Because he was a coward. He cringed in chagrin.
A true coward, he thought he was strong enough, strong enough to break the chains that had trapped him since he was small, strong enough to make the right decision long before.
He was weak, like what his bastard of a father had told him before, a shame. Honestly.
It was dreadful.
He once wished he could have run away from the ignis fatuus, oh how fate took pity of him and yet left him to suffer. It was his entire fault. And he's not denying it for it is the truth.
If only he had actually just truly joined the Order, not just fucking bloody spy.
If only he was fast enough.
If only he had told her long before how much he loved her, needed her.
If only she let him—
If only he could bring back the lost time.
**
He never thought that he'll love her dearly.
It started with glares to stares, from bickering to whispering, from publicly ignoring/loathing to hushed mid-summer night rendezvous.
Shameless and intimate, indeed.
**
"Is this right?" he asked her, tucking her into his arms.
"Wha-Who are you? You're not the risk-taker, arrogant prat I know after 6 years"
He refused to roll his eyes, "Bugger that, answer my question"
"Well, you're asking me what's right. That's a difference" she pointed out logically.
He brushed her brown locks, "Our situation.. I know you liked the Weasel"
Her caramel eyes looked at him intensely. Though he's eyes followed the curves of the ceiling, he can feel her keenly penetrating orbs on him. "Ron and I are friends. Don't you ever insult him again, do you hear me?"
He cocked his head inquisitively.
"Do you feel right when I'm in your arms? Or when I'm with you?" she asked in return, her eyes swirled with emotions.
He let himself smile. A little. "Yes, we are right, and everything else is wrong" he announced.
She slapped his shoulder playfully, then suddenly, the atmosphere turned serious, painfully serious, it was almost choking him.
"You know, I just wish we can just go somewhere peaceful, a place where no one will object of our relationship, a place where we can live safe and sound." She said absently.
He silently agreed.
"Don't get caught. Promise me" she said.
"Don't get yourself killed first" he countered.
**
It was a cycle.
A routine, perhaps, for lovers to care about their mates, it was always been like that.
**
Somehow, it felt like a bad omen
**
Everything went well though.
She, true member of the Order.
Him, a spy of the Order in the Death Eaters.
Until they both learned, that promises are meant to be broken.
One way or another.
**
It all happened slowly.
He kicked a body of a Death Eater he stupefied. Yes, just stunned. For Aurors are now flooding the scene of the demise of the Dark Lord.
**
If only he just had killed him, then everything should have been alright.
**
Everyone scattered around, relieved, as the Dark Lord's body touched the ground. Everyone's rejoicing, of course they should be. No more Voldemort for a thousand years to come.
He was looking for her, searching atop the heads of the other people scrambling around. He saw, much to his relief, The Golden Trio, huddled together. When she noticed him, her eyes beamed, and then said something to both Harry and Ron who just nodded, and made her way to him.
7 steps away. She smiled at him.
5 steps away. She cried. He didn't know why.
3 steps away. She run to him and shoved him to the ground.
She stopped a s a flash of green light hit her.
His mind couldn't understand what just happened. She was there breathing, walking towards him, ready to embrace him, when..
God, no. No! NO! Fuck.
In a brusque manner, he pointed his wand to the caster, surprised that it was the one he stunned, and said in an anguish-filled voice, "Avada Kedavra!"
But killing the man who killed her didn't erased the fact that she's not moving, not breathing, not anything.
Killing the man who killed her wouldn't bring her back to life.
Killing the man who killed her didn't lessen the intense pain he's suffering. Seeing her there, sprawled to the ground with her 2 best friends…
His heart was bursting, imminent. It was breaking, making it numb in disbelief, engulfed in pain and suffering.
Pushing them around, he seized her by her shoulders, and pulled her into a hug, his cries to her in despair, but..
**
iloveyou iloveyou iloveyou iloveyou iloveyou iloveyouiloveyou iloveyou iloveyou
**
.. but she will never hear them again.
**
It was already midnight.
The gentle wind a while ago became a wild one, waking him from his daze, from his memories, as well as the bottled emotions inside.
He sneered to no one.
He hates her.
He hates her for making him feel.
He hate for loving him.
He hates her for making him care.
He hates her—
He hates her for leaving him behind.
'When we'll go somewhere together somewhere she wanted, just like what she wished' he thought bitterly.
"Fuck this, you should have cursed or hexed the bastard, but you have to do the bloody heroic thing that flows in your filthy blood and sacrifice your life, are you bloody mental? You let yourself killed for a traitor, an arrogant git, a pompous prat! Idiot, really an idiotic thing to do! Bloody hell!" he shouted, the wind, no gentle, passed the nearby trees making them dance in a slow manner.
Then he laughed. "You're giving me the idea that you're really not a smart witch. The Smartest Witch of Our Batch, my arse. If someone's going to ask me, I'll say you're completely insane. Bloody saint. Do you think that with what you've done, I'll live on? Ridiculous. You're making my head hurt with your bloody logic."
He looked at red rose in his left hand. His grey eyes softened as he press it softly to his chest. "I never thought that our last mid-summer night rendezvous will be in this fucking cemetery, in front of your bloody headstone, your buried body…" he placed the rose below the headstone.
'Didn't I tell you that wherever you go, I'll be there too? No? Tough luck then. It's not a promise now, it's a goal…" he knelt down and traced the name on the headstone.
Hermione Jean Granger
1979-1997
Love is the foundation of all.
"Potter would have that changed into "Knowledge is Power" if you're going to visit him someday" he chuckled in the hovering air.
Then he walked away, knowing that before the red rose withers, he had already given her a garden full of it, somewhere..
'We can just go somewhere peaceful, a place where no one will object of our relationship, a place where we can live safe and sound.'
"See you later, Granger"
To repay her. His secret failure to protect her and fulfill her wish when she was still alive.
"And I love you too."
Fin.
Author's Note
So there. It's kind of pretty angsty, but I still finished it though. HOORAy for me. So when I was writing this, well I just remembered Regina Spektor's Samson, even though the story and the song doesn't have any relation or connection at all, the feelings of the song gave me strength to finish this story. I just hope you enjoyed it. Please Review.
moondreamer