I Don't Love You ... Like I Did ... Yesterday

By Azure Darkness

"Hermione, how could you do this?"

This was what Draco said after he looked in Hermione's abandoned pensive. He wasn't sure if she knew she'd left it out or not, but it was here and he had looked.

Flashback:

Draco landed in a room. It was his bedroom. In his house. And on the bed was Hermione. She was dressed in the beautiful, black, silk gown he'd bought her for her birthday. He had spent almost 2,000 galleons on it and he knew she'd love to wear it. And he'd love to take it off of her. He smiled, thinking it was a memory of them. Of the night of her birthday.

He leaned against the wall, waiting for him to come into the room from the bathroom. He remembered he'd changed into the novelty shirt he'd bought while they'd gone on holiday last year. It said, 'If you think the sun is hot, you haven't seen my wife.'

Draco held his breath as the bathroom door opened. To his surprise a brown-haired man stepped out. It certainly wasn't him. The man smiled before pulling out his wand and performing a locking charm on the door and then a contraceptive spell on himself. The man walked over to the bed, covering Hermione with kisses and rubbing her creamy skin. Draco shuddered, wondering when this had happened.

Hermione was enjoying the feeling of the man's hands and tongue on her flesh. Draco certainly couldn't justify this as rape since Hermione was making some of the most beautiful noise he'd ever heard. He didn't understand the scene before him. He'd changed his ways. He'd given Hermione everything she'd ever asked and more. He even added a potion's room to their house so she could do research at home when she wasn't at work. He'd never said a bad word towards her ... after sixth year, that is.

He watched as Hermione changed positions with the man on the bed. She was, now, kissing down his chest and running her hands down his sides. It took all Dracos' strength to hold himself back from crying, but the tears were coming anyway. He hadn't cried since his mother's funeral ... almost five years ago. He wanted to be able to do nothing more than pull Hermione off the man and kill her for breaking his heart so badly. And the man, he was probably innocent. He probably didn't even know Hermione was married. Draco looked at Hermione's wedding finger. The beautiful emerald, surrounded with diamonds, he'd given her for their wedding was gone and so was the pearl engagement ring. He looked around the room, they were nowhere to be seen. He'd never taken off his rings for their whole three year marriage. Not even while in the shower. He loved Hermione and felt a need to show it off anyway he could.

His thoughts were pulled away as he heard the bed squeak and he saw Hermione lift herself up and sit herself back down onto the man's cock. He saw the look in Hermione's eyes. It was a feeling of relief , lust, and ... sadness. Was she sad because of him? What for? Was it because he spent days away from home while working? He never spent more then three days away and he always showered her with his affection when he got back. He just didn't understand. He heard the couple's moans and sighs. The creaking of the bed. The banging of the headboard against the wall. He always had associated that sound with them. When they were both in the mood for rough sex. Or something kinky. His heart felt as if it were falling apart and crumbling onto the floor under him. Just to be sure it wasn't, he'd looked.

Draco's head was pulled back up, even though he really didn't want to see his wife making love to another man ... ever. He watched her hair bob up and down against her back, covering her breasts and roughly swaying around. Then man's hands were covering his wife's hips, helping her keep her rhythm. Her breasts were obviously entrancing the man below her, one of his hands reaching up and grabbing one, rubbing it gently. Her screams rang out as she sped up her movements. He wasn't sure how long he watched the scene of betrayal.

Draco could feel bile rising in his throat. He was getting sick. Physically ill. He couldn't grasp the situation. Why would Hermione, his wife and friend, do this to him and not even confess. Not even seem to have a bit of guilt. She'd been so happy this whole week before he'd left for another business trip. They'd spent almost the entire day before he left in bed, making slow, gentle love. Then rough fucking. They'd fallen against the fluffy pillows and Draco kissed her nose and said that he loved her more than life itself. That he cared for her more than he cared for himself. Said he'd die for her and they'd be together forever.

He looked up, suddenly, to see the familiar look come over Hermione's face. She was coming, sweaty and sated, and she fell against the man's chest. The man thrust into her a few more times and he came. The couple kissed and they laid together, just smiling at each other.

End Flashback:

Just as the bile started entering Draco's mouth, he was thrown out of Hermione's memory and he landed roughly on the ground of their living room. He ran to the bathroom to release his sick. He stepped back into the front room and stood in front of his wife's pensive.

"Hermione, how could you do this?"

Draco shook his head.

"Draco, what are you doing? Why are you back so soon?"

Hermione walked into the room through the front door, holding a bag of food. She put it down on the floor and ran over to her husband. She looked at her pensive and then back to him. She could see the tears coming back. Had she really hurt him that much?

"Draco, I'm so sorry." Was all she could think to say.

"How could you? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I-I ... I've got to go. I won't be back."

Hermione ran towards the door, looked back at Draco, then left the house. And with it, the beautiful marriage they'd had before she stopped loving him. It wasn't anything he'd done. He was sweet and everything she'd ever wanted, that any woman would, but maybe she just wasn't ready for forever, for such an intense love. And Dracos' love was nothing, if not intense, dangerous, and beautiful.

But she couldn't deny it any longer ... she didn't love him like she loved him before.

A/N: This is probably some of the crappiest stuff I've ever written, but I decided to put it up anyway. My friend, Kelli was all like, "It's so sad, you've got to put it up. For me, please." So, I did it for her. I actually wrote this a few days after I bought MCR's Black Parade album and listened to the song the story is titled after, for the first time. And then Kelli was reading stories on my computer and saw this. She begged me to put it somewhere, maybe even print it and send it to MCR, but I thought that was a little too much. So, I just put it on here. And it's not a songfic, I don't write those, at least, I haven't yet. This is just a story that came from listening to the song.

Hope you like it, but if not ... well, we all have our own opinions.
Review, please! I'd love you for it.