A/N: Draco and Hermione at their best, ladies and gentlemen. Keep your tissues at a safe distance, for you might need them. I do not guarantee a happy ending, so, be warned. This fanfic was written for the 'Can you write a Dramione' Challenge. I sincerely hope you enjoy reading this and also consider subscribing that challenge – it's positively awesome!
P.S. It contains a tiny little bit of angst.. I hope you don't mind. Enjoy, people! And a special thanks to .Destiny, for the
Prompt: Different sides of the war, and yet they fall in love.
Summary: What if, right after Ron's disappearance in the 7th book, Hermione had needed to get away from Harry, the tent, and everything they reminded her of? Who would she have run into? Someone has got some tears to shed, and someone has the tissues to wipe them.
Disclaimer: Well, darn it… Now not only do I not own Draco, Tom Felton and, well, Draco, but I also do not own the main idea of this super-hyper-fluffy story… awesome! See you later, writer's block.
Hermione could still feel Ron's harsh words echoing loudly on her mind. His fierce gaze, tainted with sheer deception, was painfully present in his deep snow prints, and she felt her own lip tremble. From the door, she sensed Harry staring at her, not unkindly, from the corner of the quiet tent, unblinking.
"Don't, Harry." She whispered brokenly.
The boy nodded faintly, his own body lethargic. "Hermione, I am…" His voice faded against the soft sound of snowflakes hitting the white mattress outside.
"Can you…" She sobbed quietly. "Can you give me a moment?"
Harry sighed, and Hermione felt his warm hand squeezing her shoulder. "I can give you all the time you need." He paused. "Just… just refrain from doing anything… reckless." He begged, his voice throaty.
She acquiesced, stepping outside the overly luminous tent. Clutching her wand in her hand, she evaded their refuge. Harry reset the wards and lowered his body onto the ground, his back leaning against the tent's soft fabric, hoping for her to come back and thinking just how much worse his already tragic life had become.
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Hermione walked numbly down the shadowy forest, her cheeks warm for the tears strolling down them. Her wand held tightly in her trembling hand, she felt her legs faltering. The trees started a senseless spinning, one she was certain to be a product of her imagination. Her breathing quickened, and soon she was gasping for the air she was being deprived of. She stopped her numb run and allowed herself a second to panic. Her silent sobs gained volume.
"No… no, no, no."
She cried. Ron leaving. Harry left unsafe. Ron deeming her to be a horrible person. Ron accusing her. Ron… Ron…
"N-"
A pair of strong, hesitant, restraining arms pulled her into a tight embrace from behind. Frightened, she fought them as she could, her wand useless against her invisible opponent, her voice fleeing from her throat from the distress. Lonesome tears, fully recovered from the shock, were her only reaction after a while. She eventually surrendered to her fate, and relaxed into the embrace. She felt her breathing steady.
"Are you going to murder me?" Hermione murmured, defeated.
Silence was his only answer.
"I have faced death. Several times, if you must know. I am not scared." She allowed a sob. "But I would like to know… am I going to die now?"
"No." His whisper was barely audible; no more than breathed, strangely familiar wind.
"I find it hard to believe." She stated quietly, defiant to his secrecy. "Be a man, and face me. Don't kill me in the dark. Don't be a coward."
She felt his fists clutch in anger at her words.
"I can't…" He whispered once more. "I have to make sure…"
"You have to make sure… you kill the Mudblood." She finished bitterly. Was it a tear that fell on her shoulder?
"I have to protect you." He stated, still inaudibly. Hermione gasped faintly in surprise. "If they know… then you will be at risk." He brushed his hand on hers, relinquishing from the hug. Hermione felt unstable, grasping it. "But I have to protect you. So please…" He pleaded. She reflexively rested her head on his chest. "Go back to Potter. He can protect you, keep you safe… until I can."
"Who… who are you?" She murmured. "I know you… I know I do. Don't I?"
"In truth?" He sighed, and she could hear his sad smile. "I don't think you do." He gently closed her eyes and made her face him. "But it's okay. I think I'd much rather have it this way." He placed a tender kiss on her frozen lips. Taken aback, she moaned softly as he pulled away. "Just survive, Granger. I will do the same." He brushed her rosy cheek, releasing her from his grasp.
Hermione touched her lip, a subtle smile etched on it. She heard his footsteps growing farther away from her, and opened her eyes, just in time to see a strand of blond hair fading against the dense forest.
A/N: I am not quite sure if this is what you expected me to write… but it is what I came up with, and I sincerely apologize if you really, really, really dislike it :s I tried. I am sorry if it is too angsty, and if it has too many orthographic mistakes (though I know it is not a valid excuse, I am Portuguese).
I loved your challenge! I do hope you like this the least bit
Kisses,
Rita