It was his fault. Damn Lucius Malfoy, Damn him to hell. He was the one that suggested to Draco that he get 'involved' with Hermione Granger, because wouldn't it look good if the Malfoy family dirtied their name with mud. Wouldn't, in the eyes of the ministry, it look good if Draco Malfoy married Hermione, and proved to the wizarding world that actually, Malfoy's don't care about blood purity anymore. So, that's what he did.

Draco Malfoy married Hermione Granger. She thought it was love. She thought he had changed. She was partly right, he had changed. He had grown to be a better actor.

He had married her, despite the fact that he could hardly bear to be in her company, and he had to wash thoroughly every time he touched her, He married her. He thought he would bear the mental scars forever, until Lucius Bloody Malfoy came up with the plan.

Hermione was there. She overheard the conversation.

"But why-"

"Because, son, when you married the jumped-up mudblood, the nation once again fell in love with the Malfoys. So, all we need is an heir."

"An Heir?"

"Yes, you dimwit, a son. Or a daughter, but preferably a son."

"Wonderful."

"Yes, it will be, and once you get a son, then we can get rid of her."

"The media... Can't file for divorce...-"

"Who said anything about divorce?"

"Father!"

"Well, surely it would be better if she, holding an infant, were to fall down the stairs, and you're so emotionally torn up that you won't be seen for months, and we shall have our name, and money, and an heir."

"Father!"

And that was all she heard.

She had his son. Scorpius Draco Lucius Malfoy. She knew she would. She knew she would have to be careful.

She was waiting in the hallway. She knew it would be today. Draco's parents were out, and it really was the perfect opportunity.

"What are you doing, may I ask, crying at the top of the stairs?"

"It's now or never, isn't it?"

"Huh?"

"Your plan. Now or never."

"Plan?"

"Yes, don't you dare take me for a common fool, Draco Malfoy."

"How long have you known?"

"Since the day you hatched that plan with your bastard of a father."

"Ah."

"Well, do you want to hold him, or shall I? I don't suppose you really want him falling down the stairs, do you?"

"No, I suppose I don't"

"Can you do me one favour?"

"If it's not to kill you, then no."

"Can you at least hear me out? Kill me afterwards, by all means, but just listen?"

"I suppose."

"I Love you. I don't care if you don't return the feeling, but I do really love you. This has been the life i've always wanted, and i'm sorry I kept you from Astoria for so long, but Thank you. I'm sorry you had to go through this whole ordeal, but thank you. You've helped me. And, I don't know, dance on my grave, kill my parents, but look after Scorpius. He's...so pretty. Just like you." and, with the last tears rolling down her cheeks, she said "Now, please, if you will, Avada me first, I, and i'm sure you don't either, want the chance of me not dying."

And so, on the twenty-second of september 2010, Draco Malfoy killed Hermione Granger, and it was all his fault.

A/N: not my best, I know, but this is what I felt like. Points for people who guess (Klav-go on, try it) why the twenty-second of september is significant. Hint: it's not because anyone died on that date.