Stretched on Your Grave

Calling out to the air
With tears both hard and wild
Oh, I grieve for the girl that I
Loved as a child.

Prologue: Reflecting

My story is not for the faint of heart, or those in love with happy endings. People look at my eyes and see a cold, hard man. A loveless man. But I once loved a girl with all my heart, and she loved me in return.
Hermione. So many times I wake calling out her name, almost three years later. She was the kindest, most beautiful girl I ever met. She was sweet, yet somehow managed to make me feel like I was on fire. I used to watch her all the time, longing for a glance of anything.
The other day, at Hogsmeade, I was walking down the road, and soon found myself looking right at Hogwarts. Ahead of me was a girl with long brown hair. Obviously, it wasn't her, but after 14 glasses of Tequila one loses the gift of seeing clearly.
"Hermione?" I had whispered, choking it out, running toward the girl.
She turned around, and I soon found that she looked nothing like Hermione. Her face was acne ridden, and her hair was straggly. Her face had a permanent frown, and she looked panicked. I'd bet she was a third year. Fear permeated her. I realised just how bad I must appear, having not showered or shaved in two days, the reek of alcohol on my breath, looking wildly for a girl who was gone forever.
Needless to say, she ran off. By tomorrow morning I'd be a dark stranger, or a threatening Death Eater. It all depends on the range of her imagination.
I dragged myself to my apartment, and hit my bed. On the nightstand is a picture that Ron Weasley gave to me on Graduation Day.
"Hang on to it," he said. "She loved you more than you knew."
It was one of that Creevey kid's photos. I was standing there in a black cloak and shirt, Hermione nestling into my neck. Every once in awhile, I'd bend my head down and kiss her. She was so beautiful, that amazing hair of hers half pulled up, wearing a red blouse and black skirt.
Through tears, I choked out a thanks, and suddenly I spotted Harry Potter coming near. He, too, was crying.
"She should be here," Harry said.
I couldn't take it. I sat down and cried my eyes out. Two years after she left, I finally managed to let it all out. Weasley and Potter sat down and just patted me on the back. Ginny Weasley came over and comforted Potter, shushing into his hair.
I was just about to remember more, when the doorbell rang. Visions of Hogwarts escaped, and all I saw was that picture.
I opened the door, and to my shock it was a girl, sixteen years old with golden hair and deep brown eyes.
"Hello," she said. "Are you Draco Malfoy?"
"Yes," I stuttered. "Who are you?"
"I'm Helene Granger. You knew Hermione Granger, right?"
"Yes," I whispered.
"I'm her cousin. I wanted to know about her, so, I got out her fourth year yearbook, and I've been tracking down people in her year. Harry Potter told me everything except for her fifth year. He told me to come here, that you'd know everything about that year."
"Yes, I would."
"Well, please tell me then."
I told her to sit down for awhile. I showered, shaved, and changed. I didn't want the poor girl to throw up from my smell after all.
I closed my eyes. "My story is not for the faint of heart, or those in love with happy endings. People look at my eyes and see a cold, hard man. A loveless man. But I once loved a girl with all my heart, and she loved me in return.
"Hermione. So many times I wake calling out her name, almost three years later. She was the kindest, most beautiful girl I ever met. She was sweet, yet somehow managed to make me feel like I was on fire. I used to watch her all the time, longing for a glance of anything…"