Their spot was enclosed, so well hidden that if you were not looking for it, you would pass right by without ever knowing of its existence. In a way it was a personification of their relationship, as silent and as sacred as the rocks they sat on.
And I wish it was sweeter
They sat together, side-by-side, so close that the barest hint of a breeze would push them together. But this gap was a gulf, as wide as the never-ending sky that stretched before them. If only such an expanse could be conquered, then nothing could stand between them. If only it could.
The taste of your mouth
They made an attractive couple, as opposite as night and day but when they were with each other, away from a world of cruelty, they made an almost perfect union. Almost.
Because right now, it hurts too much to be
He was handsome in a pale kind of way. He seemed devoid of all colour, his straight almost white hair framing a snowy face complete with eyes so clear they could be dewdrops. But he was far from perfect. His face was slightly too long and thin, his lips seemed always ready to sneer while holding his head high like a proud horse. A face of imperfection.
Closer than this
She was beautiful, in a soft underlining fashion that once you realised, blossomed to fullness. Hers was the type of face that you saw everyday on the street, admired but soon forgot in the business of life. But to him she was everything. She radiated the colour he so missed; her skin slightly tanned, her brown eyes as deep as an ocean and her curls a mass of copper, gold and mahogany where the setting sun touched each strand. Individually they were impossibly flawed but together they were almost faultless. Almost.
And with one hard look
Her brown orbs watched his profile as he stared without focus at the orange red stained sky. There had been a time when every moment had been precious but as troubles weighed on their minds, holding the thoughts of their waking moment, she felt the gulf between them begin to widen.
I can tell
Could they hold on, against the direst of odds? Was there even something to hold on for anymore? Were they truly over? She shook her head slightly, banishing such thoughts. They were not over, not yet. But she knew one thing for certain.
That you've had enough of these useless sunsets
She was loosing him
This could be a movie
"So this is where it must end?" she whispered decidedly but her mind screamed for him to look at her, to make him see that everything he could ever want was sitting so close, a hair's breadth away if only he would reach for it.
"Yes," he whispered thickly, his voice dry and coarse so unlike his normal tone. He held his head so still, straining from the effort of not gathering her to his chest, tell her it was all a lie. He almost gave in. Almost.
And this could be our final act
We don't need these happy endings
"How could it not," he continued, desperately filling her silence that cut deeper than any knife. He was trying to convince her but he knew that he was desperately telling himself. "Our families, our alliances pull us in opposite directions. We were fools to even think that this could work."
This could be a movie
Slowly his head turned to face her, his parlour fitting so deftly into the cool winter evening.
"We should have known that life is not a children's story, there are no fairy tales. There are no happy endings," he whispered so quietly the breeze could have brushed his words aside, scattering them to be dashed on the rocks. Though he spoke the words something in his eyes begged desperately for every sound to be a lie.
And this could be our final act
We don't need these happy endings
"If this was foolish," she sighed. "Then I long to be a fool again."
She fixed him with her gaze, holding him in place with an authority that he dare not deny.
"Though these time are hard and cruel, I do not regret a single moment of this."
She darted forward, brushing her lips against his with the lightness of a feather but the magnitude of a mountain, breaching the gap between their bodies.
So tell your father that
"And nothing can change my feelings. Nothing will change my feelings," she continued. Abruptly she seized his chin in a gentle but firm grip and placed her forehead against his, rejoicing in the warmth of their contact.
That you're mine
"You are mine," she whispered fiercely, emphasising each word, her eyes aglow with an ethereal light that promised to fight any who would dare take him. He could not help but stare, to exalt in the thing he most loved. Her fire, her spirit, so insatiable, so vibrant and all devouring as though it would never be quenched.
Yet somehow he felt, over the butterflies in his stomach, a sense of dread that he would be her undoing, her downfall, a fall that she would never rise from.
Reluctantly he pulled himself from her double grip avoiding being captured again but he still felt the thrill of her fingers on his chin. Why could she not realise he was doing this for her?
"We can make our own happy ending"
And I'll swear we'll run away
His head snapped up so quickly his neck cracked. They had never discussed such an option, an option that would rip them away from family and friends and fling them into the world with only each other to cling to. As much as he wanted to, he knew that it would be she who would lose the most, whereas he would simply escape a regime that he so hated.
Quickly he studied her, watching her realise what she had just suggested, watching her understand what she would have to sacrifice for him but somehow the light of determination never faded.
"No," he breathed. He could not ask this of her but his heart screamed to give in. He almost listened. Almost.
And I'll make a plan and save
"Yes," she answered strongly. "We can be away form here, away from prying hands and eyes. Together. It would be the best for everyone, though they will never see it that way. They will never know that it is what's best for them too."
Everyone from themselves
Could they truly escape? Be free of the ties that bind? Be free of the ghosts that chased them? Could she stand being away from this war, from the friends that could be so easily taken from this world, never to be seen again?
And put them in the ground
And put them in the ground
She must have seen the doubt that flicked across his face. Tenderly she placed a hand over his.
"This is what I want," she said softly, reassuringly. "You are what I want. Don't you want it too?"
He gazed into her earnest face, her beautiful earnest face and he realised that doubt was stupid. She understood everything; his fears, his past, what this act would entail but none of that mattered, she still wanted him. It was all he wanted too.
This could be a movie
"You know it is," he said honestly. A beautiful smile spread across her face, making her altogether enchanting. He could not help but smile back.
"We'll meet here, Thursday night," she whispered breathlessly, as though she feared being overheard in the deserted night. "At midnight. Bring what you cannot bear to leave behind."
"Then I will leave with nothing," he told her. "Save you."
And this could be our final act
Her cheeks tinged with the hint of a blush as he gathered her close, planting a lingering kiss on her lips, thankful that she would be his from now until the end of time. Maybe they could have their happy ending.
We don't need these happy endings
"Are you sure?" He asked. "Really certain. I don't want you to wake up one day, next to me and think 'What have I done?' I don't want you to regret. I don't want you to hate me."
"I am sure," she said confidently, but she could not stop a waver of doubt entering her voice.
"Why must we wait so long," he continued trying to ignore the underling fear in her voice. He told himself that this was right. He almost succeeded. Almost
This could be a movie
"I need just a little time," she breathed. "Time to say goodbye, to savour a few precious moments with Harry, with Ron, with Ginny. I want to remember them at their best. And them to remember me that way."
"But if they should suspect," he answered urgently. "They will try to stop you."
She sat up quickly, the fierce light returning to her eyes.
"I will not let them stop me," she said. "And besides we have hid this so well for so long." She looked him in the eyes, imploringly. "Please give me this time. Please try to understand."
And this could be our final act
He sighed. Not matter how he tried he could never quite understand. He had never had friends. But he understood wanting to remember. Everytime they parted, each wondered whether the other would be there the next week, wondered if it was their last moments together, wondered if they would become casualties in this war.
We don't need these happy endings
"Crumbs," she cursed, looking at her watch.
He frowned. He had never liked that word. It always conjured images of a certain Quidditch player he would rather forget. She returned his frown with an apologetic smile.
"I have to go," she continued. "We have a meeting tonight."
She stood up, brushing something unseen from her robes and checking the position of her wand, so as to be prepared. He watched her with the same fascination he always did. If they had eternity he would always find something new in her every move. He caught her hand as she passed.
"Remember, Thursday midnight," he said, looking up at her, one of the rare times he did so.
"How could I forget," she smiled. Swooping down, she pecked him quickly on the mouth before striding to the entrance.
Unable to stop herself she glanced back at him as she squeezed between the rocks masking the gap. The breeze flung her curls about, creating a shining nimbus in the gloom, an enormous grin across her face, bringing every inch of her to life, her eyes sparkling with love as she drank him in.
He remained on the rock; shadows falling across his pale face that seem to glow in the twilight, his dewdrop eyes full of anticipation and excitement that so rarely graced his feature. He raised a cool hand to wave goodbye, savouring her image as she did his.
Finally after what seemed an age she left.
Sitting in the car
He remained on the rocks for a long time, gazing into nothing as the sky slowly darkened. There he sat, untouched by time as though carved from white marble yet swathed in robes of deepest black. He never expected, never deserved that all his wildest dreams had come true.
With the radio
He had expected to come here and break two hearts in one foul swoop. To crush his spirit in the way his father had never succeeded in doing. Yet he had done the opposite, filled two hearts with hope that out shone any darkness, fulfilling the desires that he never knew existed.
Turned to static
He was going to be happy, away from misery, with all he ever wanted by his side. Silently he vowed on the stars that unveiled themselves above him that no harm would befall her, not without the ground being stained with his crimson blood first.
Feeling quite tragic
Yet through all this happiness he could still feel dread, a prelude to tragedy. He forced his mind from such thoughts and focused on her face, one he could not wait to see again. Finally he left, leaving the place eerily empty, as incomplete as they were apart.
And with one strategic blow
The heavens opened, allowing the softest of rain to cascade into the secluded spot. The water ran down the face of the rocks as though the stones themselves were crying, knowing that the lovers would never have a happy ending.
And you find yourself
Back in the hold
That you used to sit so comfortably in
He arrived early, just as the sun was setting, unable to wait a few hours more in the coldness of his manor home. Setting the small bag, containing all that he held dear, on the unforgiving rock, he set about waiting, for that was all he had left. Waiting.
Sitting in the car
Her breathing was ragged as she stumbled on the muddy ground. Pain coursed through her leg with every step, slowly draining. Cries echoed as the sun slowly dipped below the horizon, shouting spells and curses. Her own throat was hoarse from exertion, her eyes scarred from the pain that she bought down on her adversaries.
With the radio
Her leg screamed in protest but she forced it onwards.
"I will not die here," she told herself, in a hard, unyielding voice. He was waiting for her, waiting for her. She would not let him down.
Turned to static
She recognised voices in the growing dark, the voices of people that she knew and loved. But not his.
Raising her wand she sent an opponent from her path, though no sound passed her lips. She was going to make it; she was going to be free. There was a way through the bodies of the fighters, to somewhere she could recuperate. She was almost there. Almost
Feeling quite tragic
Lights flashed, illuminating the trees that had, minutes before, been blessed with the golden light of the setting sun. But it was dark now.
And with one strategic blow
Green light erupted, striking her as she engaged another. Pain erupted then… release. All the fierce light that he had so loved, drained away as she fell, a fall from which she would never rise. Yet, somehow she knew she just had to wait because one day all would be right again. All she had to do was wait and that is what she would do, forever if need be. She would sit at the gates of eternal happiness. Waiting.
And you find yourself
With a cry he awoke from his stone bed. The sky was dark now and even the stars did not dare show themselves. His bag of possessions sat beside him, worthless now.
A dream that was all it was, he feverishly told himself, a dream. But somehow he knew. Everything was over; the colour in his life had drained away.
Back in the hold
He had reached, breached the gap that had kept them apart for so long. Reached for the hand that she offered, their fingertips brushing for a second, so close. Somehow, he could feel her skin on the very tips of his fingers. So close, almost there. Almost
You used to sit so comfortably in
But almost was not good enough. He had missed and she had fallen.
Rage and pain bubbled up in him, filling his every fibre and blinding him to all else. All he could do was scream his lungs out in the dead of night; all he could do was scream her name. Her name…
This could be a movie
And this could be our final act
We don't need these happy endings
A figure stepped into the haven of the church, sheltering from the rain that lashed down just outside the doors. No one was there to rebuke the black swathed shape for dripping water onto the cold grey flagstones. Somehow everyone was gone, called away for a reason that, once a mile from the church, completely escaped his or her minds.
All that remained in the church was a collection of flowers from the last funeral of the day, left to shelter within the walls of grey limestone. Just as he had planned.
Slowly he approached the alter of the church, his steps slow and dragging like a man robbed of everything he ever owned.
This could be a movie
Part of him felt like laughing as he gazed around the church. To muggles at least, magic did not exist in the religions, instead it was condemned as Satanic. But now, in this place of worship, a witch had been led into the next life, wherever that may be. Yes, he could almost laugh. Almost.
And this could be our final act
"There are so many things I wished we had done," he whispered hoarsely into the air, confident that somehow she would hear his every word. "Wish I had done." His voice adopted a bitter quality. "If only I had insisted on meeting sooner, if only I had been there maybe this never would have happened. If only…" He cut off early, smiling ruefully. " But that doesn't matter. You are gone and I am left, there is nothing I can do to bring you back." His voice caught. He glared at the man nailed to the cross above his head. "Am I being punished!" He cried angrily. "Punished for what I have done. Is that why you took her from me? Do I not deserve happiness? Did I not deserve her?" The man held him in a benevolent gaze, his eyes filled with such pain and sorrow that reflected the dewdrop eyes beneath him. "Then I shall make myself worthy," the pale haired man vowed. "No matter what it takes, I will see her again and stand beside her in eternity. This I swear with every drop of life in me."
He kissed the perfect object in his hand, caressing it with such care before kneeling gradually on the flagstones.
Gently, and somewhat reluctantly, white fingers set a rose, whiter still, amongst the throng of coloured flowers at his feet, where it seemed to glow with an inner light.
"We nearly made it, my love," he whispered. "We almost made it. Almost." He smiled, this time with genuine affection. "If there were a word to describe what we had, my love, it would be this. Almost. Wait for me and we will make our own happy ending. You are mine, Hermione"
We don't need these happy endings
Silently Draco Malfoy rose and with one long look, left, marching through the church with purpose in his stride towards the setting sun framed in the billowing doorway, his face aristocratic and beautifully imperfect. He did not gaze at the setting golden globe, as he would have done so long ago, but continued with just a glance. He had almost had enough of these useless sunsets. Almost, almost….
FIN
Disclaimer: not mine just borrowing Rowling's dolls to play with. Song is Drive by Funeral for a Friend.
There you have it. My second of the 'Hours Collection' I am doing. I hope this was nice a sad so drop us a review to tell me what you think, it will be greatly appreciated.
Fan of FAFF (or if you are not) check out The End Of Nothing and Hospitality
Also: next chapter of Hunter's Moon is in development and will be coming to a fanfic station near you!