The wind howled again. Ginny shivered. A pearly tear fell from her
chocolate eyes, she watched as the drop splatter on the gray concrete stone
and shatter to millions of smaller drops, finally disappearing. Her mouth
was dry and she ran a tongue along the lines of her lips. A pale face with
silver locks flashed across her vision. She shook herself, but couldn't
shake away her flashbacks. Her mind roamed through the fragments of
reminiscences stored away in her memory, finally settling on the first time
she kissed Draco. She smiled weakly to herself when she recalled the warmth
of his lips against her, the feel of his arms caressing her back and the
shy way he smiled at her after the kiss ended. The wind blew strongly and
the leaves swept along with the turbulence it caused. Red and yellow leaves
entangled in her hair as Ginny let out a sob. She sank to her knees and
hugged herself. She looked at the epitaph and forced her eyes to read the
epitaph written on the cold stone.
Draco Malfoy
(1988 – 2011)
Former deatheater and husband
R.I.P
Ginny clutched at her cloak painfully. The words cut into her so deep. They were so cold…no emotion shone through them. It was an insult to his memory. They didn't know him, they didn't understand the love they shared or the happiness they had before…before the aurors with her brother and Harry in the lead, killed him with the unforgivable curse. She hit the ground with her fist. She still hadn't forgiven Ron. How many times had she tried to tell him that Draco wasn't a deatheater? How many had she tried to tell him to forgive Harry's nemesis and see him for who he really was? Ginny hugged the stone, wishing it was Draco. How could they kill him? Why? Her mother once told her everything happens for a reason, she didn't see what his death could bring to her, except loneliness and grief. He was the first person to love her and hold her. He was the first person to see her as more than Ron Weasley's sister.
Ginny's sobs soon grew louder and became tormented wails that rang through the dark melancholy evening. Harry and Ron's childhood animosity had deprived her of her life, of her happiness and husband. Her chest ceased heaving but tears continued to fall. Each drop symbolized the end of her life as she knew it. This was worse than being awarded the Dementor's kiss. She lifted her sleeve to clean her tearstained face and caught a glimpse of the time. She had been mourning Draco for the past three hours. Draco was gone and everyone rejoiced, the whole wizarding world praised Harry for disposing him. But they didn't know him. The old Draco, the one where his heart was as cold as steel and incapable of feeling anything but hatred was long gone. That personality had melted into the night the moment he met Ginny. They didn't know that. They refused to give him a second chance. They failed to understand that Draco could actually love. Ginny pushed herself up from the ground and stuck her freezing hands into her pocket. Her red eyes widened when the familiar cold metal grazed her almost numb fingers. She slowly extracted her hand, clutching a pocketknife. She had unconsciously placed the knife into her pocket when she was leaving their house to visit his grave, thinking it might be of some use. She eyed it thoughtfully; maybe it will be of some use. Ginny fingered the sharp blade, careful not to let it penetrate her skin, all the while contemplating the idea that was running through her mind. If she did do it, her pain would be gone, she didn't have to grieve anymore, she could join Draco for eternity. Then again, hadn't she been thought to resist from taking the easy way out? That every challenge she faces will always be nothing but a challenge? That she will be able to overcome it if she just tried?
Ginny shook away her rationalizing thoughts. She placed the knife on her wrist, inhaling loudly. This would be the perfect place to die, on the grave of her beloved. Adding force to the blade, she winced slightly as the metal sliced through her skin. Crimson trails of coppery smelling blood flowed out, draining her life and energy. Ginny sank to her knees, exhausted. Her hand caressed the cold words on the stone weakly. This was the end of the Malfoys. Her own family destroyed the last descendant. She herself destroyed the only person who could produce an heir to the Malfoy line. At least they would finally be together again, after weeks of suffering.
Her hand dropped and her brown eyes closed for the last time. Together again…
Draco Malfoy
(1988 – 2011)
Former deatheater and husband
R.I.P
Ginny clutched at her cloak painfully. The words cut into her so deep. They were so cold…no emotion shone through them. It was an insult to his memory. They didn't know him, they didn't understand the love they shared or the happiness they had before…before the aurors with her brother and Harry in the lead, killed him with the unforgivable curse. She hit the ground with her fist. She still hadn't forgiven Ron. How many times had she tried to tell him that Draco wasn't a deatheater? How many had she tried to tell him to forgive Harry's nemesis and see him for who he really was? Ginny hugged the stone, wishing it was Draco. How could they kill him? Why? Her mother once told her everything happens for a reason, she didn't see what his death could bring to her, except loneliness and grief. He was the first person to love her and hold her. He was the first person to see her as more than Ron Weasley's sister.
Ginny's sobs soon grew louder and became tormented wails that rang through the dark melancholy evening. Harry and Ron's childhood animosity had deprived her of her life, of her happiness and husband. Her chest ceased heaving but tears continued to fall. Each drop symbolized the end of her life as she knew it. This was worse than being awarded the Dementor's kiss. She lifted her sleeve to clean her tearstained face and caught a glimpse of the time. She had been mourning Draco for the past three hours. Draco was gone and everyone rejoiced, the whole wizarding world praised Harry for disposing him. But they didn't know him. The old Draco, the one where his heart was as cold as steel and incapable of feeling anything but hatred was long gone. That personality had melted into the night the moment he met Ginny. They didn't know that. They refused to give him a second chance. They failed to understand that Draco could actually love. Ginny pushed herself up from the ground and stuck her freezing hands into her pocket. Her red eyes widened when the familiar cold metal grazed her almost numb fingers. She slowly extracted her hand, clutching a pocketknife. She had unconsciously placed the knife into her pocket when she was leaving their house to visit his grave, thinking it might be of some use. She eyed it thoughtfully; maybe it will be of some use. Ginny fingered the sharp blade, careful not to let it penetrate her skin, all the while contemplating the idea that was running through her mind. If she did do it, her pain would be gone, she didn't have to grieve anymore, she could join Draco for eternity. Then again, hadn't she been thought to resist from taking the easy way out? That every challenge she faces will always be nothing but a challenge? That she will be able to overcome it if she just tried?
Ginny shook away her rationalizing thoughts. She placed the knife on her wrist, inhaling loudly. This would be the perfect place to die, on the grave of her beloved. Adding force to the blade, she winced slightly as the metal sliced through her skin. Crimson trails of coppery smelling blood flowed out, draining her life and energy. Ginny sank to her knees, exhausted. Her hand caressed the cold words on the stone weakly. This was the end of the Malfoys. Her own family destroyed the last descendant. She herself destroyed the only person who could produce an heir to the Malfoy line. At least they would finally be together again, after weeks of suffering.
Her hand dropped and her brown eyes closed for the last time. Together again…