The Bathroom Stall, by Canteloupe.

This idea came to me while reading a fanfiction. It wasn't compatible to any recent books, and I said "I want to do one!" It's semicompatible, haha. So, here it is. : )

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He felt the tears hot in his eyes. He couldn't cry. She had left him, left him alone. Why did she leave him? He let the silent sobs shake his body. He had loved her. They had shared secret moments.

They were by the lake. She was away from her friends. Her chocolate waves of hair fanned out on her shoulders. Her chest heaved with laughter. He laughed with her, happier than he had been in years. She stopped laughing with a sigh, and he kissed her.

He heard footsteps. He glanced over. She took his shirt, and led him into the bathroom stall.

"Draco." She whispered in his ear. He swallowed hard, and nodded. She kissed him with all the passion she could muster. He smiled. Why did she leave at first?

"I have to go!" She wailed, pushing from his arms. He held her tighter.

"Don't leave!" He pleaded. She shook her head. She had to leave. He had to let her go. He couldn't let her go.

"I love you." She whispered, kissing him hard. He kissed her back, and she ran away. Please look back. He pleaded silently. She glanced back. She still cared. He cared, because she cared. That's all he needed.

"Why did you leave me, Hermione?" He asked, stroking her hair. Despite the awkward posistion on the toilet seat, they were comfortable. They had eachother.

"I... I... I'm sorry. I... I just... I don't know. I was stupid." She kissed him. He grinned.

He lid next to her, stroking her damp forehead. He had her head on his bare chest.

"I've never done that before, Draco." She said, then kissed his hard chest.

"It's okay, honey. Neither have I"

They sat their on the toilet.

"Draco. You deserve something." Hermione slid off of his lap, and stood against the stall door.

"Anything, hun. You're back."

"No. I need to go. I came to tell you, that. I'm gone from you, for good. I needed your taste. Your smile. I'm sorry. I'm selfish. Please. Draco, let me go." She sobbed. He looked at her, shaking her head.

"No." Draco grabbed her hand. She escaped, and never looked back. She never ever looked back.

They were on the ice. Skating. It was early in the morning, so they could be inconspicuasly alone. She skated into his arms. He wobbled, and fell.

She laughed, the sound echoing in his head, making him dizzy. He mock glared, and then stood up, and pushed her. She skated backwards, and twirled. He chased her, falling down the whole way to her.

He walked out of the stall. It was her smell, her taste, her touch, her texture that kept him holding on. He could let go. He could fall into the darkness. He could. But, he wouldn't.

"There, there, Draco." Moaning Myrtle came out of her toilet, and started to comfort him. He couldn't help it, he spilled his guts.

Then it came at him. He couldn't remember what had happend. One minute, he was at the sink, crying. The next, Potter was yelling a spell at him, and he tasted blood. Everything went black, and he saw her face, laughing, tinged pink with the cold, full of love. He had let go. She had let go.