A/N: I suck I know. No updates for Chosen since school started in September. I promise updates over Christmas. I really depressed myself with this one so enjoy.


Hopeless

When hopeless just gets more hopeless

Hermione lay back on the homemade and tatty blanket, staring up at the stars, cigarette in her mouth. Her wild hair framed her face, her brown eyes dull from years of rejection and poor pay. She's a genius but they don't care. The man making a speech to his people about mudbloods doesn't care. She could've been happy, she could've done wonderful things. Who cares? She stopped caring this time last year as she lay on this same blanket in the humid air of New York City. Where she'd come to escape, only to be trapped again.

Jay's fingers are running down her, pushing up her shirt, pulling down her jeans, moving under her cheap underwear. He plucks the cigarette out of her mouth and chucks it away muttering how she's going to get herself killed. "Maybe that's a good thing," she says in return. He shrugs and kisses her. It was the I'm-going-to-fuck-you kiss. And he did, out in the open on the shabby rooftop. And when her orgasm hit she cried another's name but it was alright because so did she. They both had to let go of people they could never have, purebloods.

When she's put her jeans back on she lights another cigarette and he pours them some gin into two plastic cups. It's gone too quickly. She still misses firewhiskey, but mudbloods weren't allowed wizard items, wizard money or to even act like they possessed magic. Aurors now possessed guns, but with a little magic involved when dealing with the "dangerous mudbloods". They were being punished for getting the magic that belonged to Squibs. So they had to live like muggles, poor muggles.

It was worse for those who'd already had a taste of the wizarding world, to have all their friends, possessions, magic and livelihoods stolen away from them. She remembered after her third month in New York when an official came, took her wand and snapped it right in front of her. She remembered sobbing, hugging herself as she curled up in the corner of her small empty room. That was before she found Jay.

They took comfort in each other, they both had relationships with purebloods before Prime Minister Tyson Edihugh (old Voldemort supporter) came into the power and ruined their lives. They'll never get their love back, they know this, and they've given up. They met when trying to get the same job and never left each other again. They're each other's only friend, their best friend. They love each other but in not in the way boyfriend and girlfriend should.

It's two o'clock in the morning before they go back to their apartment and fall asleep in each other's arms. It's not like they have a job to get to. They're running out of money fast, but they can't do anything about it. The new government has made it impossible to get a decent job in this town, in this world. Edihugh's twisted ways are everywhere.

When she falls asleep she dreams of him, of his blonde hair, of his steel grey eyes and how beautiful he looks when he wakes up and his hair is ruffled, his eyes soft with sleep, mouth and cheeks rosy. She wakes up and is disappointed when she sees brown hair, dull blue eyes and pale cheeks. She runs a hand down his face like she used to with her pureblood.

They go job hunting again, he gets one. She kisses him and tells him how lucky she is to have him. Now in the months that follow he wakes up hours before she does, and returns late. He looks even paler and sicker than ever. She begs him to quit but he says flatly, "It's keeping you alive. Unlike those cigarettes." He takes it from her mouth and kisses her cheek, "Don't worry about me."

Then one night she's curled up on their sofa, staring at the front door, cigarette in one hand, empty bottle of vodka in the other, she's waiting for him. There's a knock on the door and fear rips through her. She chucks the vodka in the bin hastily, puts out her cigarette and throws it in there and walks to the door.

Jay has keys, he never knocks, ever. The last time someone knocked on their door it was the ministry demanding to have their wizarding money. What was it now? Were they now being locked up? She opens the door with a shaky hand. She feels her stomach drop and her heart misses a beat as she sees blonde hair, steel grey eyes and rosy lips. Her mouth drops slightly before she pulls herself together. No matter what they shared before he was still a pureblood and she was still a mudblood. She bows her head and says, "Mr Malfoy…" weakly before moving to let him in.

"Hermione," he says angrily, "Don't do that." He walks into the apartment and throws the door shut. She doesn't say anything, this could be a trap. He looks over the room with disgust, "You live like this?"

"Best we can afford," she says in what she hopes is a polite voice but she's sure it sounds cold.

His head snaps around at 'we' and his gaze falls on a picture of her and Jay and he gives a grimace but doesn't say anything. "You're acting like this is my fault." She doesn't say anything, she knows it isn't but he's the last person she wants to see right now. "I've come for you. I've found a spell that conceals people from telling you're muggle born."

She freezes. Does he know he can get killed for saying that?

"Hermione I'm completely serious. I've been a coward these past years but I'm here now. I hate the thought of you living like this with him." He nods towards the picture. "You deserve so much better. You're so much better than half of the halfbloods and purebloods sauntering about."

Then she's crying, inhuman sounds coming from her as she hugs herself because it's true. She does deserve better and life doesn't get better than this for her. Before she knows it he's around her, pulling her close. But before he does she sees something behind him.

"Come with me." She shakes her head. "Why the hell not? You could have a great life with me, you could leave here and never come back! I love you, you love me. I know you don't love what's-his-face. And I could help him too if you really wanted." She's crying too hard to tell him, he hasn't realised how much danger they're in. He hasn't noticed the Ministry officials with guns behind him as he speaks harsh words against their leader. He strokes her hair, "I love you, Hermione. And after all that shit that happened in Hogwarts which eventually lead to our happiness. All that struggle for nothing?"

She doesn't manage to choke out, "They're here." Before they shoot him.