Goodbye Love
untakemistakes
One man. In a cell. Hours before his death. His crime?
One letter. To his love. Written by the man. To whom?
The hardest part of life is to say goodbye to someone you love.
Several hours before his sentenced death, Draco writes to his love for the very last time.
My Dearest Love,
By the time you have received this letter, I will no longer be a part of this world, the living world. I only have a few hours before my sentence. As my last wish, I requested some parchment paper, ink and a quill, so that I could write to you. Do not be afraid for me because death is only another step in life's journey. Do not weep for me because those tears will have only been wasted. There is nothing you can do to prevent this. Do not long for us to be together because it will only cause you more grief. Instead, cherish the memories we have had and please, my love, learn to be happy again.
The past few weeks that were given for us to be together have been more than I deserve. And I am more than grateful. The three weeks were perfect, the only flaw being my sentence waiting, lurking at the end. During that time, I cherished every day, every hour, every minute and every second I was with you. Those moments were the sunshine in my dark, dark life. I only wish that we could have had a lifetime together. And we almost did. We almost did, my love.
You have given me something that I have never truly experienced before. Not from my mother and certainly not from my father. Love. Every time I was around you, my stomach filled with butterflies and I experienced the most warm, pleasant sensation. I miss your smell; the sweet, sweet aroma of honey, vanilla and lavender shampoo. I miss your voice; how the gentle, but sometimes demanding, melody called my name, my first name. I miss your touch, so tender, loving and caring. The only touch I would have allowed for my children, if I had had the chance for any. I miss your eyes; hazel, wise and always yearning for knowledge. You are the brightest light I've ever known. And most of all, I miss your smile. I miss you, my love.
Despite the wishes of others, you accepted me when I was the most vulnerable and helpless. I was a broken soul and spirit. I know how hard it was for you, to go against your best friends for me, the former enemy. After all, I've caused you more than enough pain, grief and remorse in the past. My actions were cruel, unjustified and unkind. And yet, you found the heart to forgive me. I was weak and you took me under your wing. Not only did you heal me, you taught me how to love and that there is still good in our broken, shattered world. You were there to protect me, to love me. I am sorry that I cannot do the same for you now. And because of this, I am forever in your debt, my love.
Just because my life ends here, yours doesn't. Continue to be the ray of sunshine I've always known. Continue to be the loyal friend and true, brave lion. Continue to be the amazing person you are, with a pure heart of gold. Continue to love. Continue to laugh. Continue to live.
The sun is setting now. I can see the light slowly fade in my cell, the deep orange and pink rays bouncing off the cold stone walls. It will soon be dark.
They are calling for me now. I can hear their footsteps approaching.
It is my turn.
Before I leave, I ask of you to remember me, my love.
My love for you will always be everlasting. Even, if I am not here.
Goodbye love.
Forever,
Draco
Her vision blurred. Large, fat tears escaped from her eyes, settling briefly on her long eyelashes and falling in heavy drops onto the front of her pink, wool sweater. Her breaths became short and she gasped for air. But found none. Her pale, shocked face was hidden behind a curtain of brown hair, clinging to her face and tears in a tangled mess. Her hands trembled and tightened, wrinkling the sides of the letter she was clenching. Her knees weaken, causing her to collapsed onto the hard ground. She quailed in disbelief and shock, her voice quivering. She choked for air and felt her throat burning, her unsteady cry was becoming increasing hoarse. She let go of the letter, letting it fall onto her lap and buried her face with her hands in misery. She let her nails dig deep into the sleeves of her sweater and finally into her palms, causing her to scream again in agony. A crack of thunder came from the dark, grey, cloudy sky above and it began to rain.
It had been three weeks. For three long weeks, she remained in bed, so numbed by the pain that she was emotionless. She only left to use the bathroom, the one across the hall. She didn't even eat by her own will. She welcomed the pain of the stomach acid, clawing at her insides, rumbling with hunger. The only time she did eat was when soup and bread was placed before her. She ate grudgingly though, spooning the soup so carelessly and slowly that half of spoonful only made it to her mouth and by the time she was done, the soup was ice cold. She didn't talk or make eye contact with anyone. She would lay there with a blank expression plastered on her face, as if she was somewhere else. She did have nightmares. The horrible ones that would cause her to wake up at the early hours of three, screaming and crying until the break of dawn. It was only then she would silent, rocking herself back and forth in a dark corner of the room.
In the three weeks, all she wore was an oversized, worn and grey sweat-shirt. The green and black lettering on the front was so faded that it was barely distinguishable. Her crusty, brown hair had twisted and tangled into thick knots but she didn't care. She carried a stale, sour odor, an unpleasant stench. She was filthy, almost if she dead, rotting away in time. Despite this, her friends and family continued to visit and care for her.
Her loved ones truly cared for her, but she was too stubborn and difficult. They tried force feeding her, as they saw the condition she was in, grey skin, sullen cheeks and brittle hair, but she would scream and cry until they would stop. They tried comforting and reasoning with her, but she would always turn the other way, keeping her face blank and emotionless. They even tried to get her to bath, but she had struggled against their attempt, refusing to remove her worn and grey sweatshirt. Even at the end of the three weeks, her family and friends did not give up hope and faith. They continued to visit her, comfort her and care for her because they knew that she would have done the same for them.
She stood on the edge of a cliff, before the enormous, raging sea. The waves crashed violently on the rocks below. In the distant horizon, it was difficult to determine where the sea had ended and the sky started. The ocean grey mixed with the heavy, hazy fog. The wind was a chilling numb, a fierce force which whipped her curly, brown hair in every direction. If she wasn't so distracted, she would have been freezing, considering all she wore was an oversized, worn, grey sweatshirt.
She took a slow, long, deep breath of air and leaned forward, rising on the tips of her toes on the edge of the cliff. And if anyone had been there to watch her, they too would have taken a slow, long, deep breath of air; as it looked like she was just about to jump. But she didn't. Instead, she let out her deep breath of air and fell back on the safe heels of her feet. Her eyes shifted to the waves below and fought back tears. Using the arm of the sweatshirt, she wiped her eyes in one giant swipe. From the front pocket of the same shirt, took out a letter. She brought the worn paper to her lips and closed her eyes, almost as if she was kissing goodbye. And then without hesitation, she threw the letter into the raging sea, watching the papers flutter into the grey mist below. And then she whispered, ever so silently, "Goodbye love".
Until Then: Sequel to Goodbye Love
untakemistakes
One woman. In a room. Hours before her wedding. To whom?
One letter. To her love. Written by the woman. But why?
Sometimes the hardest thing is to say goodbye to someone you love.
Several hours before her wedding, Hermione writes back to her love for the very last time.
My Dearest Love,
I am not even sure if you will receive this letter, but I am writing to you nevertheless. It has been five years since. Five long years without you, my love.
When I first received your letter, I cried, despite that you told me not to. I cried for days and weeks on end, knowing that you aren't hear to wipe away my tears like you used to. I cried throughout the nights. I just couldn't bear sleeping in an empty bed and waking up in the morning knowing that you're not there. I cried hard until I couldn't cry anymore. I was just simply out of tears. And every time I looked at a picture of us together, the hole in my heart, the empty feeling no one could ever fill, grew larger. I know that you told me not to weep for you, that these tears of mine will only be wasted, but how does one live on without the love of their life? I didn't know how to coup without you, my love, so I grieved.
In the weeks following your death, I questioned why I was living without you? Why couldn't they have taken me too? Why couldn't I be the one to see the light slowly fade in the cell and heart their footsteps approaching? Why couldn't they call for me? Why wasn't it my turn, my love?
I was numb and emotionless. I could no longer feel happiness, sorrow, anger or pain. And I was ready to end it all, incredibly determined to do so and prepared to take my own life so that I could join you. It was that terrible stormy day where I stood on the edge of the cliff, just before the ocean. The waves were violent. I remember taking in a slow, long and deep breath, filling my lungs with the cold, freezing sea air. I remember rising on the tips of my toes and leaning forward, ready to fall to the rocky cliffs beneath. But then, something pulled me back. I think it was you. I know it was you. You saved my life. You were watching over me.
And then you told me to let go of you. To move on. To be happy again. To live once more. And then, without hesitation, I threw your letter into the sea. This is what you wanted for me.
Even though you aren't here, you rescued me, just like I rescued you, when we were at our darkest and most vulnerable. I was a broken soul and spirit. Even though you said you could, you protected and loved me. You are not longer in my debt. You never were.
You are my sunshine, just like how you told me I was to you. We both light up each other's lives but you aren't here to light mine anymore. But you always made sure that you took care of me. You left me a ray of your own sunshine to grow and hold on to. That ray has given me the strength to carry on even through the most difficult of times and struggles. This is the part of you that lives on.
My love, I getting married today to man who will never fill your shoes or give me the same happiness and joy as you did. I am not moving on, as one can never leave their first love. But like you, I am taking another step in life's journey. The man, like you, loves me and he has taught me to love again. I will continue to love. I will continue to laugh. I will continue to live.
The sun is rising now. I can see the light slowly brighten my room, the deep orange and pink rays filtering through the curtains. It will soon be morning.
He is calling for me now. I can hear his footsteps approaching.
It is time.
Before I leave, I want to say that I never forgot you and never will, my love.
My love for you will always be everlasting. Even, if you are not here.
My love, we will be reunited once again. Until then, my love. Until then.
Always and forever,
Hermione
Hermione set down her quill in her hand and folded the parchment paper into thirds. She slowly brought the letter to her lips with both of her hands and closed her eyes, almost as if she was saying goodbye. She took a slow, long, deep breath, inhaling the smell of the fresh ink and parchment paper. And then she gently set the letter on her desk. She folded her hands together using them to support her resting head as she stared out of the window, watching the magnificent golden sun rise. Today was the day she was going to get married. Today was the day she was going to start a new life.
The alarm clock rang, breaking the peaceful tranquility. It read 6:30 am, signaling that it was time to get ready. She headed to the bathroom across the hall, throwing the forest green towels that laid on her dresser across her shoulders. She emerged some 30 minutes after, smelling like honey, vanilla and lavender shampoo. She had wrapped her hair with one of the towels and wrapped the other around her body, just above her chest.
Hermione retreated back into her room, opened her closet and pulled out a dress hanging in a clear plastic cover on a hanger. It was a simple dress of pink, a soft pastel pink with slight sheen in just the right light. She pulled the dress out of the plastic and off the hanger by sliding the plastic straps to the side. When worn, the dress was strapless and ended just at knee level. Laying the dress on her desk for just a brief moment, she dropped her towels onto the floor, picked up the dress once again and slipped into it. She turned to face her dresser, pulling a heart shaped jewelry box towards her and taking out a pearl necklace and matching earrings. She smiled at her reflection in the mirror, just for a brief second, as she fastened the necklace around her neck and put on the earrings.
Glancing at the clock, she realized it was already 8:00 am. She pulled a shoebox from underneath her bed and opened it, revealing a pair of white leather shoes. Carrying her shoes by the heels in one hand, she headed to another room across the hall.
Upon reaching the door, Hermione knocked softly with one knuckle and whispered a faint, "Are you awake yet?". She paused for a moment, waiting for a response or for the sound of movement but heard none. She reached for the doorknob, turning it ever so slowly to not to make a sound, creating a gap just wide enough for her to slip through. She crept silently across the room, making sure that the floorboards did not give away her presence. She laid her white leather shoes on the desk in the room and sat on the side of the bed.
"Morning love." Hermione whispered, afraid to break the peaceful silence. "Its time to wake up now." She reached for the head of the person sleeping in the bed and brushed back a long white blond strand of hair that covered the face.
"Is it time already? I couldn't sleep last night. I was just so nervous." came a mumbled reply.
"Nervous? There's nothing to be nervous about. Only a few people are coming." Hermione stroked the cheek of the face over and over again, providing calming comfort. "You know everyone who's coming. Harry, Ginny and little James. Ron and Lavender. Grandma Jane. And Luna. You remember her right?".
"Of course. I like her. She's always fun to be around with." The person in the bed had fully awaken now and Hermione was faced with a pair of big, round, grey eyes.
Hermione knew what was coming. Every morning, she was asked the same question. A question that left her eyes watery and a large lump stuck in her throat. Even though it had been five years, she was still healing. But she was getting better. A pair of small hands reached for Hermione's hands and held them tight. The face in the bed cocked slightly, eyes swimming with wonder. A small giggle could no longer be suppressed from the person in the bed. Hermione looked down at the smiling girl before her and grinned. She knew everything was going to be alright. And then the question came.
"Mommy, can you tell me about Daddy again?"
Broken Fragments: Sequel to Until Then and Goodbye Love
untakemistakes
The second hardest part of life is to learn to love someone you never knew.
One girl. In a broom closet. Hours after dark. The reason?
One letter. To her father. Written by the girl. But why?
Several hours after dark, Rhea writes to her father for the very first time, struggling with finding her own identity.
Hello "Father",
I don't think you even have the slightest idea of the pain you have caused mother and I, if you even know who I am. How do you think I feel? Abandoned before birth. You left us even before I was brought into this world. You left her when she needed you the most. And it was irresponsible of you. To love mother. And leave.
No one knows how you died. No one knows when exactly you died. No one knows why you died. In fact, no one, except mother and I, cares that you died. We don't know what really happened, only fragments.
Both worlds don't know, the wizarding and non-wizarding one. And I'm pretty sure that you don't even know. They'll all find out sooner or later because all it takes is one slip, one tiny mistake. They speculate and there are rumors. I can't blame them. It's not hard to figure out considering neither mother nor Neville has white blond hair and grey eyes. It's your family trademark. Neville's been trying to tell everyone that his grandmother's second cousin twice removed grand-niece is Fleur. She has white blond hair. Luckily, Fleur agreed to cover for us, for you.
Just so you know, I've been sorted into Sytherin. I'm not sure if you would have been proud or disappointed. I can't tell. I don't know you.
I
can recall the day of the sorting…
"Rhea Granger-Longbottom." Professor McGonagall called from the front of the Great Hall. Whispers from the students and staff alike followed.
A frog the size of Trevor, Neville's frog from his Hogwarts years, formed in my throat. My hands became increasing sweaty and I could hear my heartbeat thumping against my chest. I was feeling faint. I couldn't move.
"Rhea Granger-Longbottom." McGonagall called again, her eyes searching the crowd of first years for my face. The whispering elevated and I could distinguish the words "rumor", "Hermione Granger" and "Malfoy".
Somebody gave me a light push. My legs took over, automatically taking me to the Sorting Hat. All eyes were on me and I wanted to disappear. In the midst of the crowd, I caught Neville at the front table, who gave me a little wave and a small smile. He was hoping I would get sorted in Hufflepuff, his own house. I had trouble getting on the stood. Slipping not once or twice, but three times before I successfully balanced myself and the Sorting Head was placed on my head.
I waited. And waited. And waited some more. The Sorting Hat was having difficulty. Brave and courageous like a Gryffindor, but only in times of need. Intelligent and resourceful like a Ravenclaw, but only by her mother's will. Loyal and accepting like a Hufflepuff, but only to friends. Blood like a Slytherin, but only by half. Where should I put you, Rhea?
I closed my eyes. I didn't know where I belonged. I was only pieces of broken fragments.
Slytherin it shall be. SLYTHERIN!
I was a timid 12 year old girl with frizzy long white blond hair. The heat sat on my head for nearly 10 minutes because it couldn't decide where I would belong. I was a fragment of Gryffindor, a fragment of Ravenclaw, a fragment of Hufflepuff and a fragment of Slytherin. In the end, the hat chose Slytherin because for my blood. I was Slytherin because I was a Malfoy.
Malfoy. The word drips with venom and sends chills even down my own spine. It's a long forgotten name, no longer the prestige and honor it once held. You were the last and the name died along with you. Wait, never mind, you were't the last… I am. I keep forgetting that I'm a Malfoy because all I've know is Rhea Granger-Longbottom.
Because of you father, I am broken fragments, never a whole. I'm the puzzle piece never fits, an outcast among the other pieces.
I can't say I love you because I never known you.
Your daughter,
Rhea Malfoy Granger-Longbottom