Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling.
(A/N: Warning! There is some underage smoking, and some pretty deep topics, including suicidal thoughts. Don't like it, then don't read it.)
There was a boy on the roof. Well, he actually looked more like a man. Or maybe he was in that awkward in-between stage as well.
He hadn't noticed her yet, or maybe he was just ignoring her. Hermione didn't really mind. The boy was probably here for the same reason she was. The wind blew across her face, pushing her cinnamon curls into her face as she called out to the figure in his veridian hoodie.
"Are you going to jump?" she asked, then winced at how insensitive that sounded. The boy didn't seem to mind, and turned, though she could only half see his face and a flash of platinum hair. It looked vaguely familiar.
"Yes." he said, bluntly, before turning back. Hermione sighed and walked down to sit next to him. He looked towards her, and she recognized his face out of multiple movies and serials on the telly.
"Why?"
"I don't even know your name and you expect me to tell you my darkest secrets?" Hermione snorted.
"I'm Hermione Granger."
"Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."
"I know." she said, raising an eyebrow. He let out a whoosh of breath.
"Oh, right. I'm famous." he twirled a finger in the air in a whoop-de-doo gesture, and his silver orbs peered at her through impossibly long eyelashes. "I rather hope you won't start hyperventilating."
Hermione scoffed, and Draco started chuckling. She looked up, and wished that she could see the stars through the brown haze that was central London.
"But still, why?" Draco sighed, and said nothing. "I mean, there are a whole lot of people who love and care about you."
"I thought you were smarter than that. They care about how I portray myself, not who I actually am." his tone instantly turned biting and cold. Hermione flared up instantly.
"Oh, give me a break, the public loves you, you've got the money, the girls, and a perfect life."
"A perfect life? Well, if you think that being hounded by paparazzi, forced to reach an incredibly high standard that you can never get to, and having a family that is stiff and cold like ice is perfect, I'd trade anyday!"
"My parents are dead! My friends-"
"At least you have friends who don't want to use your status points! At least you can choose your own friends!"
"My friends don't even notice if somethings wrong! I'm probably as alone as you! At least I'm doing something!"
"Yeah, right, you're probably here for the same reason that I am." He seemed to realize what he'd said and his eyes widened. The fire had died out of Hermione's eyes, and the angry blush on his cheeks receded at his words.
"Sorry." he muttered, and she only shrugged. It didn't really matter anyway. They sat for some time, in a slightly companionable silence, and then Draco reached into his pocket and took out a cigarette, and then lit it. He took a drag, and offered it to her.
"I've never smoked." Hermione said.
"Apologies." Draco moved to take another whiff, but the cigarette never reached its destination. Hermione placed the cigarette on her tongue. Acrid smoke burned, as she took a large drag, and started coughing. Draco chuckled, and took it back.
"Talk to me." he looked at her, wisps of smoke leaking out of the corners of his mouth. Hermione took the cigarette back, and placed it between her teeth. She didn't cough, now more used to the taste of nicotine overloading her senses.
"They don't really care," he says, "Or if they do, they don't show it. Constantly jumping on me to do better. I thought, for most of my life, that I was a failure. Even as a famous celebrity, I'm never good enough. My life is practically a well-rehearsed play."
"So why.." do you want to die? The unspoken question hung between them.
"It's the one thing in my life that I can actually control."
"That's a stupid reason." Draco chuckled, and gave her a rueful glance, with amusement but something else as well.
"What's your story?" Draco asked. Hermione's chest suddenly tightened, and she swallowed the lump in her throat. He seemed to sense her discomfort, and moved closer.
"My parents died a couple years ago, because of a shooting. I've had to move across the country, and to god knows where else. I still can't live alone, because I'm only 17. I need a guardian, but no one seems to want me." tears clustered around her coffee brown eyes but she blinked them away. "My friends….sometimes I feel like they don't want me, or that they're just using me."
At that, she shivered a little, wiping tears from her eyes. To her surprise, a warm arm made its way around her shoulder blades and pulled her close. She leaned against his chest, this man she barely knew, and yet trusted so much. It took a couple seconds to realize she was crying. She angrily swiped at her eyes, and Draco's arm squeezed tighter. They sat in silence, but this one was a more comfortable one.
"The sky was dark, but Hermione saw no stars, and wished again that she did. She, sadly, couldn't name any of the constellations, but always loved to think of them.
"If we could see the stars, there would be Leo, and Regulus….Orion….Cygnus….over there's my namesake, Draco," he pointed to where each of them would be, and Hermione imagined outlines of the constellations, a great lion, the powerful hunter, a beautiful swan, and a noble dragon, leaping around the sky.
"How do you know all this?" Draco shrugged, looking slightly pained.
"My parents...before, well you know." before my life fell apart.
"Why don't we make a deal?" Hermione asked, her voice cutting through the still night air.
"What kind of deal?" he looked intrigued, and Hermione suddenly noticed the angular jaw, and the smudges of charcoal underneath his eyes. He must have insomnia.
"We stay together. I won't jump if you don't."
"Why?"
"Because I don't want to see you die." she said it bluntly, and he rolled his eyes.
"How do I know that you actually care for me?"
"You just have to trust me."
"Trust is a feeble thing."
"Yeah? Well, not sure about you, but when I trust someone, its unwavering." his head whipped around, his grey eyes piercing and cold. Hermione held his gaze, unblinkingly.
"How do I know you won't leave me?" his entire demeanor changed, and he said it in an almost whisper. Hermione thought that she saw him at that moment. She saw the broken little boy behind those silver eyes, who just wanted to be loved. And then it was gone, replaced by an alabaster statue. She took his hand and squeezed tightly, never wanting to let go.
"I won't. I promise." he nodded, and held out his pinky.
"Pinky swear?" she could have laughed, but she understood what he meant. When breaking a pinky swear was like breaking your own back.
"Pinky swear."
"Together, then?" Draco stood up, and reached out a hand for her. She took it and smiled up at him.
"Always."
They had no way of knowing whether or not it would last. They didn't know that eventually Draco would see Hermione in white. No idea that when Draco received his Oscar, he'd look down and see Hermione smiling up at him. Not knowing that soon there would be two little boys and a girl running around underfoot. That when Hermione got a book published, the proudest person would always be Draco. Not knowing that they would live, love and die together.
They only knew, that maybe, just maybe, they had saved each other.
(A/N: Its so angsty! But I hope that you like the ending. I thought that they were in a pretty good place, eh? But anyways, make sure to review! Thanks for reading, guys.)
