We weren't meant to be together, we never were. As kids we are told that love always prevails. It's a lie. Life isn't easy; I thought I knew that, turns out I didn't. We were just kids, dragged into a world of death and destruction. I've killed people, murdered them while they were defenseless. I've manipulated people I love and destroyed lives of people I know. I sacrificed my parents, my sister, my friends, and worst of all, my child, all for some greater good.
When the greatest evil of all lay dead at our feet, I thought the world was better, that my friends and I could live life again.
We left the battle field, stepping over the dead bodies of our friends and enemies. We were covered in dirt and blood and our muscles screamed in blinding pain, but none of that mattered to us, because we thought we were finally free. When we entered the Great Hall to see the rows and rows of dead bodies, the three of us were horrified to find we didn't care. The important thing was that we survived, not how many others had died. We glanced at each other, all registering the mutual feelings of indifference to the deaths and all silently agreeing to play our parts. We went off in separate directions, Ron went to his family who was mourning the loss of his brother Fred, Harry walked up and down the rows trying to memorize each face and give condolences to each family member, while I went towards the boy I had grown a soft spot for.
Draco was sitting outside, staring at the rubble of the school that had housed us for nearly six years. I sat down next to him, not speaking a word, just waiting for him to speak his mind. For minutes he ignored my presence, but finally he gave me a quick glance of acknowledgement before returning his gaze to the battle scene.
"Everything's going to change now," he told me, continuing his line of sight. I nodded and he turned to face me.
"You came back," I said softly, clasping my fingers together in an attempt to calm my frazzled nerves. He tilted his head dismissively.
"I don't know why."
"But you did," I said. Neither of use looked at each other, instead we stared at the bodies of our classmates.
"So many people died today, just by myself I've counted 461 and I'm sure there's more," he said, sighing to himself as he stared at the few bodies of students that as of yet had not been collected.
"I don't feel anything," I confessed, looking down at one of the bodies, recognizing her as Julie Meadows, a fifth year Ravenclaw. "I look at these bodies, of kids I go to school with and I feel… nothing. I know I should feel sad and angry but I don't."
"You're in shock, you'll feel it eventually, even though you won't want to," he told me, taking my hand in his. "I know I've done a lot to you and your friends over the years, trust me, I didn't want to. This may be the end of Voldemort's reign but it's just the beginning. This world has been in a state of constant fear and suspicion for a little over a century. He may be gone, but everything we've learned, everything we've seen, that never will."
I looked at him, my body felt drained. "We can never go back," I whispered. He nodded, not daring to glance at me.
"No we cannot. This world needs to trust you and because of that I can never be seen."
"I don't want you to go," I told him, a hint of sadness and longing in my otherwise emotionless tone.
"We have always known nothing can come of this. The war may be over, but the battle has just begun. People will be quick to turn from you, no matter how much they say otherwise. You need to be a leader, repair this world. Without you it will fall, become a power struggle," he told me. He stood up, and I stood with him. He still wouldn't look at me.
"Where will you go?"
"I don't know, and neither should you. It's better if you forget about me."
"This isn't fair," I whispered as tears clouded my eyes. He was leaving me.
"Every war has it's casualties, it's the nature of war. There are those that die, and those that live a life of the living death. We sacrifice so others don't have to," he told me.
"I love you."
He glanced at me, careful not to turn his body to me. His voice was emotionless. "I know." He stared out at the rising sun, the battle had lasted the night. "Go inside, play your part."
I turned from him, tears spilling from the corners of my eyes. I ascended the stairs, knowing I would never see him again. I continued climbing, not looking over my shoulder even as he started talking.
"We aren't meant to be happy Hermione, we were damned at birth. This is bigger then us, but it is still us. For the good of many, a few must die, sacrifice."
When I got to the front door I turned. "Draco!" I screamed, but he was gone, no where to be seen. The world stopped around me. I broke, cried. I picked myself up. I went on. I got married, played the perfect wife and mother, we all did. Our children were happy. The people were happy. We were their leaders. We were their government. We were their hope. We were their protectors. As we smiled and waved to our people as the celebrated our smiles were forced, plastic.
A/n Poor things, doomed to live lives of sadness and resentment. I thought about how they never really examined the emotional journey these guys went through. The whole thing actually came to me when my uncle died. She told me "For many to live good lives, a few must be sacrificed." Which reminded me of the saying that their is no war without casualties.