Dedication: To my friends Kelsi, Jenny, and Kira. I know they are all big DM/HG fans and even though this one shot is full of angst, I think you'd appreciate it. At least, the first two will. I realize I didn't put any smut in this so I don't know about you, Kira...
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, only Ms. Rowling gets that honor. Although you never know, if I suck up enough to her (if I MEET her) maybe things could change...but for now, I regretfully say that I don't own Harry Potter.
Rating: M for reference to adult activities, blood, and strong themes.
Warning: Draco gets a tad poetic at a certain moment. I think you'll know where without me saying. But hey, he's an eloquent guy in love with a very hard decision! Okay? ^_^"
He looked down on her sleeping form tangled in his ebony black sheets. Her pale pink lips were slightly open, sighing every now and then. She looked so innocent with her chestnut mane splayed on the pillow, a few tendrils curling around her lovely heart shaped face.
Draco wanted to cup that face between his two hands and kiss those perfect lips forever. But, of course, he couldn't. Voldemort was waiting for him and though Hermione tried to hide it, he knew that the Order of Phoenix was waiting for her as well.
Luck was never with them, especially now with the burdens of the war upon them. Draco had been seeing Hermione secretly since 6th year, when she had stumbled upon him crying in an empty classroom. He remembered it well.
...
Hermione paused in front of a closed classroom door. A soft sobbing sound reached her ears and curiously she opened the door. Silently closing it behind her, she was startled when a familiar voice spoke.
"What are you doing here?" Draco asked coldly, as if she had no business there. Hermione's anger flared and she couldn't help but sneer at him.
"Shouldn't I be asking you that? Bloody hell Malfoy, if you didn't want anyone to find you, then you should've at least sound proofed the room!" Hermione replied in an irritated tone. She was sick of him always acting like everyone was in his way. Honestly, the whole bloody universe didn't revolve around him! She seethed, waiting for his comeback.
"Fine Granger. You were right. Happy? Now can you get the hell out of here?" Said Malfoy in a defeated tone. Much better, Hermione thought smugly.
Then slowly her smirk changed to a look of confusion. Wait, what? She thought, astounded. She was...right? What the bloody hell was up with Malfoy? Hermione looked at him- really looked- and noticed a few things.
Despite his tear stained eyes, shadowed eyes due to sleep deprivation and gaunt face, Malfoy was damn hot. Like model worthy hotness. And as much as she hated to admit it- you love Ron, you love Ron she chanted to herself- she realized what all the girls had been giggling about. With his toned body, beautiful stormy blue eyes, full lips and silky looking platinum colored hair, Malfoy was quite the looker. That, and the fact that he had said she was right compelled her to stay with him.
"Are you all right Malfoy?" She asked softly, slipping closer to him.
Draco looked up at her and for a brief moment, incredulity filled his features before his face hardened and he bit out in a bitter voice,
"Why would you care?"
"Why indeed," She muttered to herself. Malfoy heard though, and was quick to turn his back once more. Hermione bit her lip. She cared that he was in pain, even though he regularly acted like a jerk to Ron and Harry and herself.
Although, now that she really thought about it, Malfoy had been quiet this year. That could either mean he was planning something bad (as Harry suspected) or it could mean he had changed. Hermione opted for the second choice, and in a moment of bravery she placed her hand on his broad shoulder. Malfoy immediately jerked his arm in a surprised fashion but did not push her hand off as she expected.
"What...what are you doing?" His voice came out shaky, so much so that Hermione wondered what could possibly be bugging him.
"I'm giving you comfort. Are you unfamiliar with the word?" It was meant to be snide but instead it came out softly.
"I know what comfort is. I've just never needed it," Draco said simply. Hermione's mouth dropped into an O-shape. How could he have never needed comfort? Every human being needs it at some point.
"Well you do now," and with that Hermione eased herself to the floor beside him. He scooted a little closer but that was all and then an awkward silence filled the room. Hermione could tell that Draco (why had she just called him that?) was trying his best not to sniffle. Hermione felt the urge to take him into her arms and hold him as tight as she could. Unable to name the feeling, she decided it was maternal only.
"Draco..." His head turned at the sound of his name being spoken from Hermione's lips. It was almost loving the way she said it.
"You said my name," He stated, looking her up and down with confusion in his eyes.
"And?" Hermione shot back. Draco grunted and turned around again.
"Stop that. Now what's the matter?" Hermione once again asked.
"Why do you keep asking that? It's not important," Draco's voice was exasperated and when he turned once more to face her, she could see that his mouth was turned downwards.
"Draco, I'm not stupid. Obviously it's important if you were crying over it. And I do care, because as much as I have thought otherwise, you are human and you feel the same things I do. Besides...you said I was right," Hermione admitted, blushing slightly. At that Draco let out a laugh.
"Now I know. The way to get a girl to forget how much she utterly hates you and want to comfort you: tell her that she was right. Huh, I'd have never thought," Draco was being sarcastic, something he was wont to do when in an unexpected situation. Hermione slapped his arm lightly.
"Oh Merlin I think she's got me! Ah! AH!" Draco wailed dramatically, making Hermione laugh. Soon he was laughing as well, making her abruptly stop. Had they been...laughing together?
Draco also halted in his laughter, looking at her with an expression of wonder. He quickly caught himself and a neutral mask covered his features. He swiftly stood up, making to go.
"Thank you for...making me feel better." And with that he marched towards the door. Before she realized what she was doing, Hermione was running to block Draco
.
"What...what are you doing?" For once Hermione didn't have anything to say. She grabbed his neck and pulled Draco in, giving him a kiss softly on the lips.
"I'm stopping you from walking away," Hermione whispered into his ear and Draco smiled briefly before returning her kiss.
…
Draco's lips turned up at the memory. Ever since she'd kissed him they'd been meeting secretly, finding out how to make it work. At first it had seemed impossible, confusing and utterly unrealistic. He had fought with her numerous times over unanswerable questions.
What will we do if we're found out?
How will we stay together after Hogwarts?
What if this isn't real? What if we are risking our lives for nothing?
But Hermione never wavered. She was stronger than he. She was true and loyal and a fighter to the end. Once she sunk her teeth into you, she'd never let go. And Draco had learned that that was a good thing.
He had listened to her, trusted her even though it scared the hell out of him. They had made it through the end of Hogwarts, the death of Dumbledore and the betrayal of Severus. But could they make it through this war?
He did not think so. They would be found out for sure if they continued meeting. It was humorous really, that they should be able to meet every month at the Room of Requirement and no one should be the better for it. Still, he knew, she knew, that it was coming to an end. Their last few meetings where they made love was different.
There was a tint of desperation in each kiss, a hurriedness to their passion. It was as if their bodies knew what was to come and were trying to make it better. Draco, as much as he needed her, could not compromise her safety. And so he was doing the only thing he could do in his current situation- leave her.
It was most assuredly not because he wanted to, Merlin knows he couldn't stand the thought of the pain to come for both of them, but the time had finally come and only he was strong enough to separate himself from her however short the time may be.
And so he began his letter to Hermione.
Dear Hermione,
I love you. First and foremost I love you. No matter what happens that will never change and don't forget it. You saved me Hermione. I was dying on the inside and you made it better by simply caring.
One day I hope we can be together again, without having to sneak away from our lives to do it. But until then, I need to go away. I can't keep risking your life, nor mine. It would be selfish to throw it all away when the end is in sight. And you know that I try to rise above being selfish.
I've got to play the part for a bit but I want you to know that it's truly just an act now. You took everything in me that was hard and cold and mean, and turned it into someone new. A person who was capable of emotions and wants and needs, a person who was...normal. You made me normal. It is peculiar for me to say this but it is true. I was not a real person until I met you because I did not know what being human meant. I thought that being accepted, being followed and adored was it. And now, thanks to you, I know that's not true.
Life is so much more than that. It is living in the purest sense of the word. I feel dumb saying this, knowing that you have known this for a long time. Life is a jumbled up story that everyone partakes in but eventually leaves. There is grief and bitterness and despair but there is also hope and need and love and want. If you can stand the despair, the need and want then you are real.
I was an empty shell when I found you but then I got filled to the top with experiences and emotions and things I never even knew existed.
And so I thank you, so much for giving me this.
Your love.
It has made the world brighter and harder and worse but also so so much better. I needed you, to show me.
This is not the end Hermione. It is just a chapter in the story of life and living. And you would know, from the books you love so much, that a new chapter is always good. There is much to look forward to there.
So do not grieve over this new chapter.
-Draco
By the time he had finished, the light outside was slowly getting lighter. He knew he hadn't much time to leave. Normally, (as if their meetings were ever normal) they both woke up slightly before dawn to say goodbye and then hurry back to those who were waiting. Today, he'd leave without her. When the war ended, he'd come back and make love to her for hours. But that time was not yet and he had to steel himself from jumping back into the bed with her.
Everything about Hermione beckoned him. Her hair, still thick but less so, her nose, covered with 39 small freckles (yes he had counted), her skin so smooth beside the cottony sheets. He couldn't stay any longer or he'd never leave. Closing his eyes, breathing deeply, counting to ten and then, without one last look back, he left. It was the hardest thing he had ever done or would do.
…
She rocked on her knees in the grass, slick with blood. She had always thought of grass as green, brilliant and bold. Now she could only see red, filthy red, squishy red, slick and slimy red. Everywhere she looked it seemed the same. Fallen enemies- or were they friends?- on the red red grass. It was over. Finally.
But she could not seem to register any joy with that. All that should have been was lost on her because she was falling apart. Her lips trembled, repeating the words- Draco Draco Draco. When she had found his letter, so many weeks ago she had wept bitterly. She had barely managed to get on. Only his words a new chapter phased her.
Those words were her lifetime. She clung to them. Sometimes she thought she might die. But she didn't. She was alive and the war was over but where was he? He had not found her yet. She did not understand this. To comfort herself, she said that he was searching for her. Suddenly a voice jolted her out of grievous thoughts.
"Hermione! I've been looking all over for you...Merlin, for a while there I thought.." Ron did not need to speak because she understood. His arms, now strong and capable, lifted her up and held her close. She knew he had fancied her- perhaps still did- but she also knew that he knew she didn't feel the same.
And for that she was grateful.
"It's all going to be okay. There there 'Mione," he soothed her, wiping away tears she hadn't known were there. Finally he broke through into her mind and she began to process. All of a sudden she was full of bursting questions but before she got a chance to ask, a haggard looking Remus showed up.
"Glad to see you alive Hermione;Ron but McGonagall told me to found up the Order of the Phoenix. It's time for our last meeting," Remus greeted them briskly. Exhaustion laced his words and Hermione felt like she should worry but did not have enough in her to do so.
Silently the three moved across the field of red. They walked through the empty corridors of the castle which was very empty except for occasional wails. There was no loud rejoicing, it seemed, in the walls of Hogwarts.
Finally Remus showed them into Dumbledore's old office where McGonagall along with the majority of the Weasleys, Tonks, Neville, Harry, Luna and -surprise surprise- Snape. Her old professor seemed wary of everyone, as they were of him. When Harry saw Hermione he leaped out of his seat and ran to her. Hugging her tightly, as Ron had, she was surprised to see him as bloody as she. When they stepped out of an embrace, it was time for the meeting to begin. McGonagall, of course, started.
"Hello everyone. I am happy to see your faces, even if they are tired for I know you have survived. There has been much death in this war but it is finally over. We should celebrate but first, we must mourn our lost ones. To Bill Weasley, George Weasley, Mad Eye and Kingston, who came strong and alive and willing and who we say goodbye to with much grief. Let us be silent for a while in memory of them," She paused and everyone obediently stayed quiet too. Hermione could not believe someone as alive and funny and REAL as George Weasley was gone. The silence was broken by McGonagall once more.
"Thank you. And now I will hand it over to Severus. I hope you all give him your best attention for he had something that he believed would be of great importance for some among us," she gestured to Snape to speak. It was clear that she too was curious of these news.
Snape cleared his throat and looked out calmly onto Hermione. She wondered at his gaze.
"I know you don't like me. To be honest, I don't particularly like you. I am only here because, while he was dying, he asked me to tell her. And so I will," He looked directly at Hermione but no one seemed to have caught on yet that the message was for her.
"He told me to say he was sorry. He knows that there was supposed to be more to the story," Snape continues but she does not hear. She knows it is him. Draco. She cannot stand it any longer.
Abruptly she runs out the door, leaving bewildered friends behind. Silently Snape leaves after her, but no one takes notice because they are all worried for her. They have never seen her act so strangely. Ron and Harry run, trying to follow her. Luna and Neville tag along.
She does not notice any of this. All she knows is the pain. The pain and the anger. When she finally stops running and collapses outside, she feels she might be sick. Why did she come out here? Did she think she would find him? Did she even want to? Her howls, so raw in their pain, shook the trees. She scrambled, on her hands and knees, furiously turning over bodies.
Could it be him?
Was that a blond head she saw?
But no. It was never him. Anger overwhelmed her. How could he do this? How could he leave her? It was supposed to be one chapter. Not the rest of the story. Her howls stop and instead she begins to babble. By now Harry and Ron have seen her, are trying madly to catch up with her. She does not care anymore. Over. Over. Over. It repeats in her ears. Her story is not worth reading anymore.
The war has ended. They have won, but not really. People have been lost. Stories have been ended too soon. It is over, over, over, but she has lost. She placed all her money on him and he failed her. No one can understand, the extent of her pain. It consumes her, an electric jump in her nerves, an ache in her chest, a buzzing in her head.
Over. Lost.
End of story.
Or is it? He would not have wanted that. He would have told her that a story is a story and that it must go on. But she did not care right now what he would say. She just gave herself over to the pain and the anger and the hurt. He was not there to make it better and he never would be again, so why did it matter? It didn't.
Draco. The name was once a source of wonder, of mystery and love. Now it was the cause of eternal sadness.
For as long as her story lasted, Draco Malfoy would be the center of it all.
She had won the war, but lost the boy.
And in the end, the boy was what mattered.
Notes: I worked a super long time on this. It was an idea sparked two summers ago that I started on and spent the whole day doing but didn't save and the computer crashed and erased all my work. I had to start basically from scratch and finally finished it last December (I just moved it off my DA account on to FF). I hope I didn't do a bad job. I'm sorry that it's depressing but I can't stand super happy fluffy endings for the pair, it just doesn't fit with who they are. I'm also sorry if you were ever confused but it would have ruined the flow of the story to post a little author's note in the middle or at the beginning ya know? Anyhow, please review and tell me if I used the words BUT and AND too much because I fear that I did...