..::.. Crimson Sky ..::..
~) Chapter One (~
Who will paint the midnight stars, who will plant the seeds of hope when I'm gone? There will be no one left; but do I care? I choose not to, I need not to. The situation is now out of my hands, this has nothing to do with me, not now, not ever. I choose to leave that behind, in the heartfelt place that's been my sanctuary. I may be cheating, I may be lying, but I am who I am. It's all about power, who has more, and who doesn't. So what if I betrayed my morals, my friends; they're nothing to me now. Silence elope me as I lay there, quietly in my bedroom, listening to the shallow breaths of the water lapping at the rocks outside. They will all be shocked, bewildered at why I have done such a thing; I don't care anymore. Sometimes you've got to push things away to be on top.
~+~+~+~+~+~+~
To Whom It May Concern:
I've left you for something else, not out of obligation, nor love. I've simply left you. I might have once loved you, and perhaps told you that, but now I don't. So there, I've left you with your thoughts of me, a vast, empty little girl who used to love white magnolias, chocolate chip cookies, and sun-dried tomatoes. You used to say that a bright beam of light always shined when I smiled, and maybe you can find comfort in your memory of my smile, for it will not shine again. So I part you with a good-bye, a farewell; maybe you would learn what I have not.
With all the love that my black, little heart can conjure --Hermione
~+~+~+~+~+~+~
"I found something!" Ginny shouted, racing down the wooden hallway. Nearly tripping down the stairs on her fuzzy purple slippers, she clutched the half torn piece of paper tight to her throat, trying to calm her breathing. Finally, she reached the half lit dining table, where her fiancé and brother were sitting. Harry immediately offered Ginny a chair, and being her fiancé, he tried to tame her wild hair that was hazardous from all the worrying. Ginny tossed the note across the glass table at her brother Ron, whose face was scrunched with fear, despair, and all the other troubles of his desperate heart. And that desperate heart which loved Hermione with all its might, was now pained with worry and hurt. Ron tried to steady his shaking outstretched hand as he reached for the crumpled up paper. He'll admit it, he was scared, scared of what the note might say, scared about all that's happened, and scared for Hermione. And as he read the contents of that foreshadowing note, he couldn't help but gently close his eyes and let the tears come. For the second time in his life, Ron Weasley cried.
~+~+~+~+~+~+~
Fine, I'll say it. I was cruel. There, I admitted I was cruel in seventh year, but only because of the outcomes, the consequences. Up until that year, I was the ever dependable Hermione Granger, nothing happened, if you wanted to find me, I'd be at the library. I was stable, I was predictable, and I was still on the top of my class. They said I was like a brick, square and boring. Harry and Ron were simply not there for me anymore, they were out, usually with several girls at one time. I doubted either of them were virgins anymore at that time. And I knew they both cared for me, but in return I didn't.
I slowly grew out of my rigid form, drinking and partying, sometimes until four in the morning. I slowly tried every kind of muggle drug there was, from coke to ecstasy. Of course I was never dependent on any of them; it'd ruin my Head Girl image. But maybe I already did; sometimes I'd find myself shaking for a cigarette late at night or early in the morning. I was breaking, surely and slowly. And one day I would crack, grow old, and end up betting on dog races. It was a horrible dream, but I was too deep, I was in. All the bar tenders knew me as 'Pixie', and the DJs too, they all knew me, even the dealers. I was in this world in which I couldn't escape, but it wasn't like I wanted to leave. I was content there, I was happy, I had earned myself a place in the clubbing world. No one knew.except him.
I saw him stalking out of the red room down at my usual bar, Crimson Sky, with a couple of the show girls flocking around him. I, myself, casually sat on a bar stool wearing a skimpy leather miniskirt and a black net-like 'shirt' over a lace bra, and lastly, my jet black four inch boots. I felt pretty confident as I lounged over my bloody mary, and sit back to see if he would recognize me. And indeed he did, he plopped down into the stool next to mine, ran a hand through his sun-bleached hair, and huskily greeted me, "Good to see you.Hermione." Did you think I choked on my bloody mary? Of course not, Pixie doesn't choke when she meets hot guys. "Back at you.Draco."
He smiled and I smiled, and that's how it started, but we never planed our next meeting, it was almost coincidental. Every now and then I'd see him at Crimson Sky, and we would have the most amazing time, dancing, drinking, and the occasional sex. He was so goddamn good. I never kissed him at the bar.
I started dressing like that at school, only not so mature and shocking, simply daring. And suddenly, I was a lust object, of course I simply didn't choose any of them, they were only toys. I wanted him, and he knew it. We still met at the bar.
Gradually, he started presenting me at death-eater parties, as a trophy; I got to know his parents. I've never met such cold and aloft people who were bound to each other, yet, somehow, their relationship reflected in Draco and me.
Draco never pushed me to get a dark mark, he knew I didn't want a tangible scar which represented my loyalties; he himself never got one. The Lord knew my intentions and he made me carry a part of him: this black, little heart that would be silent forever. I knew no love, and I never will. I hardly doubt I want it back; I was content with the drenched thing that never made a sound. It never bothered me, nor did it bother Draco when I moved into the Manor weeks after graduation and became a permanent resident. Neither he nor I knew what love was, we didn't need it. It was only good sex. And that's what we'd be doing all day if we didn't have jobs and services to the Lord.
Maybe you're wondering why I ran from my past friends, maybe I was tired with them; maybe I was done playing with my toys. My so-called 'friends' ripped me from my life, my dream; so what if my life style wasn't the way it was before, I wanted him.
~) Chapter One (~
Who will paint the midnight stars, who will plant the seeds of hope when I'm gone? There will be no one left; but do I care? I choose not to, I need not to. The situation is now out of my hands, this has nothing to do with me, not now, not ever. I choose to leave that behind, in the heartfelt place that's been my sanctuary. I may be cheating, I may be lying, but I am who I am. It's all about power, who has more, and who doesn't. So what if I betrayed my morals, my friends; they're nothing to me now. Silence elope me as I lay there, quietly in my bedroom, listening to the shallow breaths of the water lapping at the rocks outside. They will all be shocked, bewildered at why I have done such a thing; I don't care anymore. Sometimes you've got to push things away to be on top.
~+~+~+~+~+~+~
To Whom It May Concern:
I've left you for something else, not out of obligation, nor love. I've simply left you. I might have once loved you, and perhaps told you that, but now I don't. So there, I've left you with your thoughts of me, a vast, empty little girl who used to love white magnolias, chocolate chip cookies, and sun-dried tomatoes. You used to say that a bright beam of light always shined when I smiled, and maybe you can find comfort in your memory of my smile, for it will not shine again. So I part you with a good-bye, a farewell; maybe you would learn what I have not.
With all the love that my black, little heart can conjure --Hermione
~+~+~+~+~+~+~
"I found something!" Ginny shouted, racing down the wooden hallway. Nearly tripping down the stairs on her fuzzy purple slippers, she clutched the half torn piece of paper tight to her throat, trying to calm her breathing. Finally, she reached the half lit dining table, where her fiancé and brother were sitting. Harry immediately offered Ginny a chair, and being her fiancé, he tried to tame her wild hair that was hazardous from all the worrying. Ginny tossed the note across the glass table at her brother Ron, whose face was scrunched with fear, despair, and all the other troubles of his desperate heart. And that desperate heart which loved Hermione with all its might, was now pained with worry and hurt. Ron tried to steady his shaking outstretched hand as he reached for the crumpled up paper. He'll admit it, he was scared, scared of what the note might say, scared about all that's happened, and scared for Hermione. And as he read the contents of that foreshadowing note, he couldn't help but gently close his eyes and let the tears come. For the second time in his life, Ron Weasley cried.
~+~+~+~+~+~+~
Fine, I'll say it. I was cruel. There, I admitted I was cruel in seventh year, but only because of the outcomes, the consequences. Up until that year, I was the ever dependable Hermione Granger, nothing happened, if you wanted to find me, I'd be at the library. I was stable, I was predictable, and I was still on the top of my class. They said I was like a brick, square and boring. Harry and Ron were simply not there for me anymore, they were out, usually with several girls at one time. I doubted either of them were virgins anymore at that time. And I knew they both cared for me, but in return I didn't.
I slowly grew out of my rigid form, drinking and partying, sometimes until four in the morning. I slowly tried every kind of muggle drug there was, from coke to ecstasy. Of course I was never dependent on any of them; it'd ruin my Head Girl image. But maybe I already did; sometimes I'd find myself shaking for a cigarette late at night or early in the morning. I was breaking, surely and slowly. And one day I would crack, grow old, and end up betting on dog races. It was a horrible dream, but I was too deep, I was in. All the bar tenders knew me as 'Pixie', and the DJs too, they all knew me, even the dealers. I was in this world in which I couldn't escape, but it wasn't like I wanted to leave. I was content there, I was happy, I had earned myself a place in the clubbing world. No one knew.except him.
I saw him stalking out of the red room down at my usual bar, Crimson Sky, with a couple of the show girls flocking around him. I, myself, casually sat on a bar stool wearing a skimpy leather miniskirt and a black net-like 'shirt' over a lace bra, and lastly, my jet black four inch boots. I felt pretty confident as I lounged over my bloody mary, and sit back to see if he would recognize me. And indeed he did, he plopped down into the stool next to mine, ran a hand through his sun-bleached hair, and huskily greeted me, "Good to see you.Hermione." Did you think I choked on my bloody mary? Of course not, Pixie doesn't choke when she meets hot guys. "Back at you.Draco."
He smiled and I smiled, and that's how it started, but we never planed our next meeting, it was almost coincidental. Every now and then I'd see him at Crimson Sky, and we would have the most amazing time, dancing, drinking, and the occasional sex. He was so goddamn good. I never kissed him at the bar.
I started dressing like that at school, only not so mature and shocking, simply daring. And suddenly, I was a lust object, of course I simply didn't choose any of them, they were only toys. I wanted him, and he knew it. We still met at the bar.
Gradually, he started presenting me at death-eater parties, as a trophy; I got to know his parents. I've never met such cold and aloft people who were bound to each other, yet, somehow, their relationship reflected in Draco and me.
Draco never pushed me to get a dark mark, he knew I didn't want a tangible scar which represented my loyalties; he himself never got one. The Lord knew my intentions and he made me carry a part of him: this black, little heart that would be silent forever. I knew no love, and I never will. I hardly doubt I want it back; I was content with the drenched thing that never made a sound. It never bothered me, nor did it bother Draco when I moved into the Manor weeks after graduation and became a permanent resident. Neither he nor I knew what love was, we didn't need it. It was only good sex. And that's what we'd be doing all day if we didn't have jobs and services to the Lord.
Maybe you're wondering why I ran from my past friends, maybe I was tired with them; maybe I was done playing with my toys. My so-called 'friends' ripped me from my life, my dream; so what if my life style wasn't the way it was before, I wanted him.
