There had always been something about him that made her feel more than one should for someone who didn't in any way concern you. The irrational rage she felt towards him at school, even if she logically knew that he couldn't help the way he was raised. The overwhelming relief she felt when she realised he wasn't a killer and never would be one. The rage she passed as a reaction to her wounded self-esteem, the relief only came because she was human. After this there should be no more room for him in her thoughts, he would become a distant memory haunting the edge of her consciousness.

That was the rational course of things: that was what should have happened. Yet Hermione couldn't tear her gaze from him when he entered the room or control the way her breath caught in her throat when he would met it. And he always did. She couldn't hide the blush that crept to her cheeks anymore than she could read the flash of emotion that passed his eyes. However, that would be gone in a second and Hermione would once again remember who was sitting beside her. Ron, her sweet, beloved Ron. She loved Ron; there was no doubt about that. Still she knew that it wasn't enough, not even near.

Was it fair that she should feel more for someone she knew she wouldn't choose than the one she was with? Should she tell Ron that a part of her would never be free; a part would always love someone else? Was it fair of her to claim Ron as her own when she knew she couldn't give herself away?

She had tried; she had stayed away from him. When they met, she would grab Ron's hand and smile at him. Her breath would still get caught and she would stare after him, but the guilt afterwards would eat her from the inside. She was acting out her part, no real emotion coursing through her expect for the all-consuming guilt.

Then the day came when Ron was done waiting, done waiting for her to wake up. She didn't live anymore, she wasn't Hermione anymore, there was no fire in her eyes, no joy in her laugh, she could have died during the war and it wouldn't have made a difference. She had driven Ron away and made him feel like the bad guy.

She knew they were worried about her; she had been fine right after the war, happy and full of life. She had wanted to change things and she loved everything in her world. But then he came back and it all fell apart. He was everywhere and she couldn't pretend anymore. Ron could have been there for her, but he was her everything, the air she breathed, her every thought.

He had gone away, taking with him the small comfort that was left in her world. The concerned looks directed at her had gotten fewer and the calls stopped altogether. She was alone, as she had wanted, alone with her guilt. The guilt eating at her slowly, destroying her calm, her sleep, her work.

What had become of the clever little girl who was going to get married to her best friend, her soul mate? The smart young woman who knew that life wasn't a fairy tale and that if you used your brain everything would be fine.

She could see what her life would have been without him. She could see the house, the kids she would have, and she could see happiness, something simple and precious. But he had walked into her life, taken away the chance to happiness and replaced her childish love with a raw emotion of need. She needed him to make up her world, without him she couldn't fight.

She knew he would never come, he didn't know.

He came back, ending the long winter. She would seek his presence, but she couldn't look at him otherwise he would know. He would see the longing in her eyes and know. He would never know, because she wanted her hope, the only thing that kept her going. Love was a tragedy, yes, but Juliet would never have to settle with Paris nor would Romeo choose someone over Juliet. Love was beautiful and immortal, her love was like that but his wasn't.

No illusion could last forever and her hope was lost when she saw him with someone else. Someone far more beautiful than her, someone more like him. She ran away, not caring about the muttering that followed her. She made it outside before breaking down. Years of suppressed emotions surfaced with the tears. Her lifeline gone, he was gone, for real this time.

She sat there her thoughts running through a lifetime, time passing too quickly. Suddenly the cold was gone, arms holding her, a velvety voice whispering in her ear. He was there and nothing else fit in her head. Silver orbs filled with the longing she felt, passion, want, love, sorrow, heartbreak: it was all there.

He had fixed her, mended all the breaks. Her sun, her world. His voice in her ear whispering, promising. He had woken her up; the life was back in her eyes. Time moved, stopped, flew but he was always there: constant. Until time took him beyond its reach.

She touched the stone, following the engraving with her finger, a tranquil smile on her face. He was gone, but still with her. She couldn't feel sorrow, she would be with him soon; nothing could live without the sun. He was her air, he was gone; soon she wouldn't be able to breath.

Draco Malfoy

loving father

trusted friend

- and most of all a devoted husband,

this is not goodbye

A/N: Okay you know the drill, let me know what you thought. Cheers!

Life-Could-Be-This