Disclaimer: We all know that I don't own any of these characters (unless I come up with someone random) nor the Harry Potter World. The only thing I can call mine in this story is the paths that it might take.
I – You, really?
Draco had his chance, he had the perfect opportunity to kill Dumbledore and he just froze. Dumbledore had no wand or the will to fight him and he still needed Snape to finish it for him. The Dark Lord had given him one task, one simple task, and he failed. Now, he would have to deal with Lord Voldemort's anger and who knew what he was going to do to him. Chances were he was not going to live for much longer; no one could leave Voldemort down and expect to survive. Draco was not afraid of dying though, what terrified him was the torture he would have to suffer before he actually died and the consequences that it would have in his family.
-Draco, has your father told you anything about your punishment? - asked his mother Narcissa, with a shaking voice. She obviously felt her son's fear and, by noticing that, he got even more anxious.
-No, mother, he hasn't. But don't worry, the work is done, doesn't matter who did it! – answered the boy, making an effort on sounding calm and convincing. But his mother could see right through him, she knew how scared he was and it was breaking her heart. With her eyes filled with tears, Narcissa held her son in her arms. He didn't struggle immediately, but a few seconds later he pushed her away and, with his hands on her face, he whispered: -Don't hug like it will be the last time. I need you to believe that I will survive; everyone thinks that I don't stand chance, even myself, but I need you to believe otherwise, please! – Then he gently kissed her forehead and left the living room of the Malfoy's mansion.
-Where are you going, Draco? – she questioned.
-Out, mother, out. – He said before walking out the door; into the windy, dark night outside.
He knew it was dangerous, going out alone at night, but the Dark Lord wouldn't kill him straight away, he had much more important things to care about, right? After all, he had finally gotten Dumbledore dead and he was in charge of pretty much everything in the Wizarding World right? This all made sense but Draco just couldn't stop panicking about it. He just needed one last stroll in the neighborhood without having to worry about being killed at any second. He would surely have tomorrow to think about death, wouldn't he?
Not that far away, a girl was also having lots of trouble on trying to remain calm. Hermione was never the kind of girl who was capable of ignoring reality in order to get some peace of mind; it was probably one of the many disadvantages of being a brilliant person. She just couldn't do such a thing, even when she desperately wanted to. And believe me when I tell you that she had never wanted it so much. Actually she wished she had never got the letter; it had allowed her to have fantastic experiences and it gave her a new family and lots of good memories but now it was threatening her parents and that was the last thing she wanted to happen.
Her mother and her father were no longer safe and she was not able to protect them so she had to do something. It was the hardest choice she ever made but she knew it was the right thing to do. She asked Mr. Weasley to visit her parents and making them forget her; she should have done it herself but she just couldn't. By now they probably weren't aware of having a daughter anymore. Just thinking of it was heart breaking but this way, if she died, they wouldn't have to grief and they were not at risk of getting hurt.
Magic was surely an incredible thing… When she was just a child, magic was pulling a rabbit out of a hat; pulling never ending colorful cloths out of the magician's mouth; it was transforming a newspaper into a dove. She was so wrong! Most of those tricks were just illusions and the rest were made by wizards trying to get money by fooling Muggles. When she went to Hogwarts, she learned how to do such amazing things but now she knew that everything had a price. Being a witch was her gift but also her curse.
Hermione had bought a beautiful apartment in London and had spent the previous weeks decorating it. Her new house looked like a beautiful, girly, Victorian library. The furniture, the books, the wallpapers, the burgundy and beige details, she absolutely loved how it looked. The thing was: although she loved the apartment, she couldn't stand being in there for another minute. So she grabbed her trench coat and went outside, for a walk.
It was an especially windy night, not particularly cold though. August was coming to an end and you could already feel it in the streets of London. As Hermione walked the dark roads leading to the nearest park, she thought how he last summer went and how it would probably be the last like that. Hermione and Harry had spent the first weeks of vacation in the Burrow with the Weasleys. Even though Dumbledore's death affected all of them, especially Harry, they managed to have fun. And between the preparation for what was yet to come and all the resting they needed and deserved, at times it felt like it was only about them being together, like nothing else mattered. Of course it didn't last… When the Death Eaters attacked the Weasleys' house at Bill and Fleur's wedding, they knew their holidays were over.
Harry and Ron were staying at 12, Grimmauld Place for a few days and then they would join her in her apartment. They were not going back to Hogwarts; they had to start looking for the Horcruxes or they would not stand a chance against The Dark Lord, so they were planning on leaving soon. Hermione was not comfortable with leaving Hogwarts though; it was not what it was supposed to be like, she was supposed to finish school… She was not sure about the plan yet and as the leaving date got closer and closer it was making her really nervous. She didn't want to think about it though, so she sat down on the bench in front if the tiny lake and watched the ducks.
As she looked around, she noticed she was not the only person in the park that night; a blonde boy was sitting on a bench across the park. He had his hands on his face and was shaking uncontrollably, like he was… sobbing. Hermione felt sorry for him, what could have made him so upset that he ended up on a park's bench crying like that? Watching him breaking apart like that was overwhelming and tears of compassion were starting to form in Hermione's eyes. Suddenly he started to throw up; could he be sick or was it just due to being so upset? Either way, Hermione could not hold herself any longer, she couldn't stay there while he was obviously struggling that much; so she stood up and started walking towards the boy.
While she passed through the trees and all the beautiful flowers, Hermione thought about her mother's garden. They used to take care of it together every Sunday and it was so beautiful. Her parents were dentists but her mother had a thing for gardening. It made her miss hope even more. When would she be able of going back to her house? Would her parents fully remember her as soon as they removed the spell? She hoped so but in the meanwhile it looked like the world was spinning in the wrong direction: she had to ask someone to cast a spell on her parents to make them forget about her; Dumbledore and Sirius were dead; Lord Voldemort was strong and spreading the chaos; this boy was sobbing alone in a park at night… Where did they all go wrong? She didn't know.
Hermione looked at the boy again and he started to look familiar but he couldn't be… Could he? No, what would he be doing at a park in London? It was probably just a similar boy or something… However, when she got closer, she could see it clearly: it was him! But what was that damn bastard doing there? Didn't he have any park loser to his house and further from her? And why was Draco Malfoy crying so desperately?