A/N: I do not own Harry Potter only the brilliant J.K. Rowling does. I make this because of my undying love for Harry Potter not for money :))


Everyone filed neatly into the courtroom dome. Potter, Longbottom, and the entire Weasley family sat first-row on the long, cold, hung thickly in the air, and no one was even daring to burst it. Standing timidly behind a podium, with burly guards not too far away, was Draco Malfoy. Never had he looked so innocent and plain in his life. His platinum blond hair was combed and slicked back, his handsome face unscrewed from sneers and smirks, and his fingers were tapping frantically upon the cherry wood. Everyone seemed to catch their breath at the sight of him; they all stared impolitely knowing that, in a matter of hours, he would no longer be a sight to see. Draco was going to be hanged, just like everyone else who was with the Death Eaters had been. Azkaban couldn't trust such powerful people lurking in cells, and, as much as many people opposed, death was the only answer.

The Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, rose slowly from his high seat and said into the Voice Enhancer, "We are gathered today to observe the last statement of Draco Malfoy, who has been pressed charges for being in association with the Death Eaters…" No one heard anything else at this point; they were far too busy watching Draco twiddle his fingers in an unusual manner that did not suit him. His stormy grey eyes were glued to the artful dome ceiling, which was painted with ancient magical wizards and witches, all intertwined in a bubbling feast, cherub faces bright and happy. Draco, however, looked terrified. Alas, after babbling, Shacklebolt turned to Draco. "Any last words, Mr. Malfoy, before confinement?" Draco let out a shuddering, weary sigh. "Yes, Minister—if you don't mind, I have a few things to say."

Shacklebolt nodded curtly and sat down. Draco sighed once more, and began. "Good evening, ladies, gentlemen, and"—he cast a glance over at a centaur in the corner—"lone centaur." He paused politely and his greeting was returned. "I'm standing before you, for the last time, before I die. And let me tell you, I'm frightened. Frightened for my soul, frightened for my manor—whom my father unsuccessfully gave to a woman of his previous affairs—and, most of all, frightened for my heir." The crowd broke out in a series of whispers. Heir? Who is the heir? Draco ignored them. "I mean, here I am, about to die, and the most I can say is 'sorry' to everyone I ever harmed or insulted, like Longbottom, over there"—Neville's smile back at him—"and the set of Weasley's and their fiery heads"—Ginerva Weasley touched her red hair while Ron Weasley's ears turned a fabulous shade of flamingo pink—"and, of course, to the savior of us all, Harry Potter."

Draco grinned at Harry, teasingly, and Harry managed to grin back. "But that's not all," Draco said. "I've come to share with you, a story. This isn't some great, victorious story over how I helped my Quidditch team win over Gryffindor or how I triumphed over some great beast like—I dunno—a spider." He caught Ron's eyes and added hastily, "Oh no, not those; I'll always save those for you, Ron." Ron, Harry, Neville, and mostly everyone else, managed to let out a tiny laugh. "No, no, I'm here to tell you the story of how I, the slithering, evil, wicked, Draco Malfoy, fell deeply in love with a girl. Yes, Weasley, a girl, so stop bug-eyeing me. And"—his voice became stronger—"not just some pureblood, Slytherin, wicked girl either! Oh, no, not me. I fell in love with some Muggle-Borned, Gryffindor-housed girl who you all never though that we will entangle with each other and I love her dearly, Hermione Granger."

More mutters and whispers as people looked around to see where is Hermione was, waiting for her to reveal her selves. Nothing happened. Draco's voice suddenly became timid. "Ah, yes, you've probably know her very well, especially you two, Harry-Ron"—everyone turned again, shocked of what their ears captured just now.—"and maybe the golden Gryffindor-housed lot in the front, but I don't doubt it that the whole wizarding world know her; she was an incredible witch and she was our Heroine, because she was beautiful." Draco gazed dreamily into the corner of the room. Everyone, especially Harry, had never seen Draco look so…in love."We met during our first year. I heard her singing in the broom closet when I had came out of detention with McGonagall, and her voice was so sweet, so enchanting…that I felt all my worries fade. When I proceeded to open the closet, she ran out as fastest she can. I thought I was illusionistic, so I retreated back to my dormitory.

"But many days passed, and she could be heard singing nearly each night when i walked pass by the librabry. I was almost addicted to hearing her sing. I figured that whoever it was that was singing was a good singer, because whenever I heard her singing my doubt and worries fade away like the wind. "The singing ceased the next year, until my third year, which I stumbled upon her in detention, humming softly and perfectly in her girly voice. I knew that she was the Granger who had been tauntingly drawing me closer to her without her knowing it. She was gorgeous. The tune she hummed was kind of sad. McGonagall had stepped out for some reason—probably to handle a matter—and so I simply snuck up behind the girl, watching her write a letter to a boy I didn't know. "She wrote fast and untidily, but it was clear that the letter was to her boyfriend, and she wanted to break up with him, blah, blah, blah. Despite my little crush, I whispered tauntingly in her ear, 'Aren't you supposed to do lines, Granger?' and she immediately turned around and recognized my face. She had stumbled over her words, and then said something like 'none-of-your-business' and rolled the letter up. Her hatred showed in her eyes. I start to fell in love with her and I felt so guilty to called her names before this. As I gain my confident back, I want to apologize and make something different with my life after she hit me fortnight ago when I make fun of her bestfriends. The punch start to hit the blood in my veins and from that moment I know that she is for me and I have to make her mine.

"'I don't really remember what happened next, but I had apologized and said something to her about her reasons for dumping her boyfriend, and she said that he was far too controlling, and I think I told her that she should admit that snogging like savages wasn't really her style, because she was probably a horrifyingly horrible kisser. At that moment, her face had turned flustered as she retorted that it wasn't any of my business. I taunted her repeatedly, until she got fed up and confessed, agreeing that she didn't know how to kiss, and that if I wanted to teach her, I might as well just do it." "Was I insulted? Yes. Was I furious? Yes. Did I object? Absolutely not. "We kissed, and then, everything cliché happened after that. We began seeing each other, and then taking breaks, and then seeing each other again. It ia all a tiny little secret between us to; sorry Harry-Ron. We got into one hell of a fight at the end of the third year, in which we stopped seeing each other for months, until the next year." Draco sighed sadly. "It didn't take long for us to secretly become closer and closer, until, of course, I had to join the Death Eaters. Before I left, I knew I had to tell Hermione she was no longer safe around me. Her pride and heart were broken, and I knew I was doing it for her safety, but something didn't feel right."

He paused to twist a finger on his left hand. "So I married her." Murmurs loudly ruptured the dome. Draco Malfoy—married-to-Hermione?. Even Harry and Ron couldn't believe it. They lost contact with her and they though she was back with her family in the muggle world. "How on earth .. " Ron murmured to himself. Someone in the courtroom said aloud, "Where is Hermione now?" Draco looked hopeful. "She said she would come. She promised me. Hermione doesn't break promises." His eyes frantically scanned the courtroom before him. "Maybe she is a little late. Yes, that must be it." People in the courtroom exchanged sad glances. Draco looked and sounded positively dotty. "Well, er, I have a letter for her," Draco continued, his eyes still searching. Ron made a sad, 'tsk' sound. "In case if she is in the courtroom, listening silently, too ashamed to show her face, then I think I'll read it aloud. I…I wrote it last night." People turned to look all around them. Several witches had their faces covered with sheets or bandages or large, rambunctious hats shadowing their faces, so it was hard to sort out who Hermione could be.


Draco reached into his pocket and pulled out a yellowed parchment. He unfolded it tenderly and began.

"'Dear Hermione,
I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything. I'm sorry for joining the Death Eaters, and for leaving you with a wedding ring, and for not visiting you or…our child.'" Furious whispers erupted. Draco was surprising the crowd by the minute. "'I still have that letter you wrote to me, telling me that you were expecting. You never told me whether it was a girl or a boy. Did you even find out? Did you have an abortion? Are you ashamed of me? Are you seeing other people? These are questions that have taunted me for months. I feel weary, just as I write these words down, at the thought of you breaking our wedding promises. I never knew anyone could make me feel weary, but, it's true. You've enchanted me.

"'I miss you. Everyday, I sit in Azkaban, counting my days until my death, and I think to myself: 'What will become of my wife? What will happen to her child; my child; our child? Will it grow to never know of his father? Today, I write with a mere day left until I will be hanged, and I am worried. My soul can never rest unless I know what is coming for you two. "'Do you still wear the wedding ring? I wear mine; every single second of my life. The guards tried to beat me to remove it, but I refused with pride. I would never leave it. "I miss you. I know I said that already, but, I miss you deeply. I wish I could cradle you in my arms forever. I wish I didn't have to die. But I won't put up a fight; oh no, I will take my death sentence with dignity. After all, I am a Malfoy, and we Malfoys don't show our enemies our weaknesses. 'We' meaning you, too. You are a Malfoy. Unless, of course, if you feel too ashamed to keep my last name. Then, I guess, that's reasonable.'"

He sounded so humble and simple; like a true gentleman. Ginny, Mrs. Weasley, and Luna had tears welling in there eyes.

"'Oh, my love, the days we spent together are ones I will never forget. Do you remember when we snuck out on the fields at midnight and shared a kiss? Or when I had slipped that heirloom onto your finger, calling you my bride? Or that beautiful island off of the coast of France, where we shared our honeymoon? I bought that for you, darling. I want you to raise our child there. And even if you had an abortion, then that's okay, I understand. I want you to live there, regardless. "'If you refuse, then I can understand that, too. I will always understand. And I hope you understand, although I have done horrible things, many of which I am not proud of, not to think for a second that I ever stopped loving you. I love you deeply, with a passion I can never express. I have many reasons for loving you; your laugh, your smile, your beautiful voice, your dreamy chocolate eyes, your cute little ears, even your stubby little fingernails; I haven't forgotten those. You are brave and courageous, and I know that you will make a fabulous mother, and if not mother, then I'm certain you'll be a fabulous something someday. "'I only ask of you one thing. Please, please, please—I don't care if you hate me for life, but please, don't ever tell anyone that I never loved you. Do not lie. My grave will shake, my ashes will reform; do not tell anyone I hated you. I love you so much, my love, and I don't care if I were to drop dead at this moment! Not even death can do us part.

"' Please read my will. Everything I've owned is for you, darling. I will give you anything you desire—even if it means ripping out my heart and tacking it up on a plaque, I will do it.

Anything for you, my love.

Draco'"

His voice broke off into a croak, which didn't suit him at all, but as clear as day, everyone could see that, indeed, Draco was crying. Everyone was crying, in fact. All those years; all those horrible memories of Draco everyone had-those all didn't matter. His secrets, his truthfulness, his purpose in life— they all became clear in that letter. The Minister sighed loudly. "That'll do, Mr. Malfoy. You may step off of the stand." Draco shifted uncomfortably, wiping tears off of his cheeks, looking around for his beloved. One of the burly guards took his arm, urging him off of the stand. Draco looked depressed, gloomy, and ghostly. Ginny was weeping on Harry's shoulder; Ron was holding a trembling Luna; even Crabbe and Goyle, in the far background, shook their heads sadly. Draco didn't need to be hanged; he was already dead without his beloved.

Suddenly, as if on time, an astonishing screech silenced the sobbing crowd. Everyone turned, and to their amazement, the court door flung open and a beautiful, fair, calm-walking girl with dark-chocolate, wavy hair with Greek twists pinned in, wearing a stunning, simple, little blue dress that almost hid a tell-tale bump. It was very obvious that the girl was Hermione. Harry and Ron barely close their mouth when they saw their bestfriend infront of then. It's been a long time. As soon as Draco caught sight of her, his stormy eyes widened, and he yanked free of the guard and ran towards her. They met, in the middle of the courtroom, right in front of the Minister's desk. Everyone stood up and keenly watched as their foreheads met, their breathing slow and heavy. Then, Draco touched her face and they kissed passionately but sweetly.

It was a beautiful but sad moment. When they parted, there whispers could be heard to those who paid attention. "This is for you," breathed Draco, slipping a heavy, thick, silver ring from his right hand's pinky. "It's a family heirloom. Wear it always." "I will," promised Hermione, accepting the large bauble and burying her face on his broad shoulder. "And just so you know, it's a boy." Draco grinned and closed his eyes. "Perfect," he mumbled. Everyone stood up and watched as the couple embraced and kissed one last time. Finally, they took a few steps back. "I…I guess this is it," choked out Hermione, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. "I suppose so," Draco said sadly. "Um, one last thing…" "Hm?" croaked Hermione. "Will you tell him of me?" Draco sounded uneasy. "Every day," replied Hermione smoothly. He twiddled his fingers. "D'you promise?" Silence clung like static between them. Finally, Hermione managed a weary smile and she looked him in the eyes as if he were the most precious thing in the world. "Anything for you, my love," she promised in a breath.

She meant it.


"I wish you were here, Draco," whispered Hermione to the soft blanket of soil beneath her bare feet. "Mum, why do you always talk to Daddy?" said six-year-old Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, tossing his dirty blonde hair aside, his stormy gray eyes staring impatiently at her youthful mother. He does look alot like Draco and that make Hermione stronger each day knowing that Draco left apart of him for her in this world. "Because I love him very much," Hermione responded, sitting down on the cemetery ground, setting the wreath of silver and blue droopy, bell-like flowers neatly before his tombstone while holding the silver ring she was wearing. "D'you know? Daddy was once a brave, handsome, fearless boy. And I was once a quiet, thoughtful, brave young lady. And, oh, we loved each other very, very, much."

Scorpius groaned.

"What—why are you groaning? Let me finish. So where was I…"Hermione gazed dreamily at the sky. "Ah, yes. So we got married and then, before I knew it, I was...er...told that the stork was supposed to deliver our child—you—very soon! So we were both excited. And then…" "Then Daddy was accused of something bad and out of guilt, died," finished Scorpius as if the whole thing was rehearsed. "Yes, of course! Something like that," Hermione said, smiling. "I've heard this story at least a million times!" groaned Scorpius. "It's a fairytale being abused!" "Exactly, but you do know why I keep on telling you this?" said Hermione excitedly. "Yes, yes," yawned Scorpius. "—Because Daddy said to me," went on Hermione excitedly, "'Will you tell our son about me?' And I said, 'Every day.' And he said, 'Do you promise?' And I said—" "'Anything for you, my love,'" finished Scorpius with a bored voice. "Jeez, you really do keep your promises. I suppose that if Daddy were still alive, he would at least add something different to the story each time. Like maybe giant frogs bursting in while you two were talking! Or a large, silver serpent traveling from—"

Hermione laughed as she stood up and began to walk away, her eager son chattering away beside her.

"So you don't like my story, eh?" Hermione said with mock anger. "Fine. I won't ever tell it again!"

"Fine!" snapped Scorpius. They both tossed their heads angrily, although Hermione was just fooling around.

"Um, Mummy?" said Scorpius quietly.

"I can't hear you!" teased Hermione.

"Can you tell me that story again tonight?" Scorpius asked eagerly. "Only this time, can you start right from the very beginning?"

Hermione laughed. "Anything for you, my love," she promised.

And her unbroken promise wavered high in the skies, shining as bright as a star, noticeable for all to see the love that existed once upon a time.


Hey guys,

yup I was so depressed today with everything and i cried when I was doing this story

eventually, my mood today is Emotional Breakdown so I present you the saddest story I've ever make for #Dramione

tell me what you think and I always appreciate your comment.

I hope my mood get better tomorrow :)

-Mia 3