By Dorthey Star
I'm sorry that I hurt you
It's something I must live with everyday
And all the pain I put you through
I wish that I could take it all away
And be the one who catches all your tears
That's why i need you to hear
The room was crowded. So crowded that I almost didn't see her there. I knew she would be there; she always was. I was glad she was there, although I wished it didn't come down to this, to her watching me in a crowded room.
To me receiving the Kiss.
She was sitting on the top row, next to a vivacious redhead that I immediately recognized as Ginny Weasley. Her right hand was clasped tightly in Ginny's left and they both looked pale and very shaken. I wished for the hundredth time that she didn't have to see me go through this, but deep down I was glad she came. She needed to hear what I had to say.
The guard shoved me into the chair in the middle of the room. There were boos coming from all sides of me, except from Ginny and her. She told me once that she didn't understand why people booed, cheered, or even came to watch these things.
I guess she never expected to be close to anyone that was receiving the Kiss.
My eyes locked with hers and I could almost feel her pain. My heart ached for her, not for myself. I wanted to hold her in my arms and tell her that it would be all right, that I wasn't afraid to receive the Kiss.
Our stare broke as the guards slapped the metal cuffs over my arms and legs. I guess they don't want me to make a last minute escape, I thought bitterly. One of the guards reached over and knocked me on my head. There was a sickening thud as my head made contact with the stone chair. I could feel the blood trickling down my neck, but I didn't scream. I didn't beg. I didn't cry.
Loving Hermione Granger didn't make me less of a Malfoy.
I heard a muffled sob, and I looked in the direction of where she was sitting with Ginny. The redhead's arms were around the older girl as she cried into her shoulder. Ginny was another one of my exes. She had been the one that had introduced me to Hermione, the one that I eventually left for Hermione. She was not crying, but looked very shaken. I tore my gaze from them to see who else had shown up.
The entire Weasley clan was sitting in the front row, each of the sons wearing matching smirks. Weasley number six noticed me looking in his direction and mouthed two words to me that I had said many times in his direction.
Fuck you.
The last time I'd said those words they were not aimed at Weasley number six. They were not aimed at any Weasley. They were not aimed at Potter. They were aimed at Hermione, something I always regretted.
"Draco…is that the Dark Mark on your arm?" she asked accusingly, pointing at my left arm where I had pulled my sleeve down over. I glared at her.
"It's not your place to tell me what to do and what not to do," I spat at her. She stiffened and frowned deeply.
"Fine. I'm leaving," she said, picking up her bag from the floor beside her chair. She swung it over her shoulder and marching out of the room.
"Fuck you!" I yelled at her as she released her grip on the door and it swung shut.
It was the last time I spoke to her, a mere six months before my arrest.
Potter and Weasley number six were the Aurors in charge of my arrest. I suppose it was their crowning moment, the story they would tell their grandchildren. The night the arrested Deatheater Draco Malfoy. Whoop dee fucking do. By that time, I was ready to be caught. I was tired of constantly smelling death, of always feeling dirty and wrong and, most importantly, of feeling empty.
Hermione had been the only good thing in my life, the only constant. Once she was gone…I had nothing to live for, nothing good or right. After she left, I immersed myself in my Dark Arts studies, determined to forget her and to finish the path that my father had laid out for me.
It wasn't until his execution two days before my own arrest that I realized that my father, the man I had looked up to all my life and had strived to be like, might not always be right.
Dating Hermione had started out as just a simple fling that could possibly be a way to get to Potter. That's what I told father, anyway. My obsession with her started our sixth year. I wasn't looking forward to going back to school, what with Professor Umbridge, my favorite Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, gone. Things were only made worse when my father issued his ultimatum the day before I went back to Hogwarts: I was not to torment Potter. Of course, he had added with a smirk, that doesn't include Weasley or Granger. I had smirked back, being the dutiful Malfoy that I was.
Tormenting Potter was what I lived for; Weasley was just an added bonus. School was notsomething I was looking forward to.
I did not go looking for the Golden Trio on the train, as I was wont to do. Instead, I went obediently to the Prefect's compartment with Pansy. Hermione and Weasley were already there, him talking to a Hufflepuff and she talking to the Head Girl. Hermione turned around when we shut the door and frowned disapprovingly as we took our seats. It was then that I truly noticed her for the first time.
It would be cliché to say that I fell in love at the first sight of her, that I realized that my father was wrong, and that I wanted to marry her and that Muggles weren't the scum at the bottom of ponds.
No, I didn't fall in love with her. I was more…annoyed. I was annoyed that Pansy, the girl who I would surely marry, wasn't as pretty as this common Mudblood. I was annoyed that she stood there, proudly, in her uniform, looking prettier than anyone in the compartment, including Head Girl Cho Chang.
I was annoyed I'd never noticed it before.
I began watching her after that. I'd watch her at mealtimes, I'd watch her during class, and I'd watch her in the Library. Finally she got fed up with it and stormed over to my table in the Library.
"What, Malfoy. What do you want? Do I have something on my face? In my hair? On my skirt?" she asked, nearly shaking with rage. I smirked my Malfoy smirk at her.
"You know what I want, Granger," I said smoothly, my eyes scanning her body. Her eyes flashed with anger.
"Then go to that pug, Parkinson," she snapped angrily, "because you won't get anything from me until Hell freezes over!" She turned sharply and left the library, leaving all her books at her table. Ginny, who had been sitting with her, dutifully collected her friend's books and started to leave the library. She stopped, however, and turned to face me.
"Leave her alone, will you? She's having a hard enough time as it is," she said before exiting the library, leaving me more confused than ever.
Later, when I started dating Ginny, I learned that Hermione's parents had died in a fire while she'd been staying with the Weasley's. My mind said, good another useless set of Muggles gone, but my heart felt for her. Her parents were probably twice the ones Father and Mother had been to me, but I would miss them if they were gone.
Another fist made contact with my face and my head once more slammed into the chair. My eyesight went blurry and I couldn't see for a moment. When I could see again, I saw the Weasley Twins whispering to one another, malicious grins on their faces. I tore my gaze from them and finished looking at the crowd. Snape, my Godfather, was sitting two rows down from Hermione and Ginny. His face was blank, as it always was, but I could tell from the way he was holding himself that he was disappointed in me. Guilt seared through me, and I turned to look in another direction.
I looked to the door through which they'd brought me. Two big, beefy guards, not unlike Crabbe and Goyle, were standing on either side of it. Two guards were standing on either side of me, and one was standing in front of me. He was the one who had been doing the hitting.
"Draco Malfoy," he spoke, drawing out the words, "you are being charged with being a Deatheater and committing many heinous crimes including, but not limited to, Muggle torture and murder. Do you accept that these charges are justified?" I sat up straighter and looked in Hermione's direction. She was longer weeping into Ginny's shoulder, but was looking directly at me. I looked her in the eye and chose my words carefully.
"Yes. All charges brought before me are justified," I said calmly. There was a hiss running through the room. Apparently they had not thought I would confess. My father's voice came echoing through my mind. Malfoys do the unexpected, but only if it does not tarnish the Malfoy name.I almost rolled my eyes. Father was always speaking of keeping the Malfoy name clean. You tarnished it, Father, I thought to myself bitterly, when you took up with that half man half monster. I only followed your lead.
"I see," the guard spoke, excitement nearly running off of him in rivers. I keep my gaze trained on Hermione. She had gone even whiter, if that was possible. Ginny was murmuring things into her ear and hugging her. I wished I could be up there, comforting her, telling her things would be all right in time. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the guard turn to the guards by the door. "Bring in the Dementor," he said.
Hermione covered her mouth with one hand and crumpled against Ginny. I wanted to say something, anything, but my mind wouldn't form the words. My time for speaking would come soon. They wouldn't give me any time alone with her. No, I was too good of a kill for that. They would simply ask if I had any last words. That would be my time to speak.
Sure enough, the guard came back into the room and whispered something in the head guard's ear. Both were grinning nastily.
"Before we bring in the Dementor and you receive the Kiss, are there any last words you'd like?" the first guard asked, sounding impatient and eager to get on with the ceremony. I turned from Hermione to the guard.
"Yes, I do have some last words," I said, glad to be able to stall his pleasure, but even more glad to finally be able to get my point across to Hermione. Of course, I had a back up plan set in motion, but I hoped this would go across well.
"Get on with it then," the guard growled when I paused. I looked back to Hermione. She was sitting up straight, looking at me, eager to hear what I had to say, as if she knew it would be to her.
"I've made a lotof bad choices in my life," I said, and paused slightly as there were a lot of loud murmurings of agreement. "My worst choice was that night in the library. Maybe if I hadn't made that choice, said those things, then things would have turned out differently and I wouldn't be here, you wouldn't be here." I was no longer speaking to the crowd. I wasn't even aware they were there. It was all about making her understand. She had to.
"I'm sorry that I hurt you; it's something that I have to live with everyday. I wish I could take away all the pain that I put you through. I'm not perfect; I've done a lot of things I'm not proud of. The worse thing was hurting you. I'm so sorry, but I'm not afraid to go." My throat closed up, choked with tears that I would not shed. I was finished; that was all I had to say.
Hermione was clutching Ginny's hand tightly; I could see that from where I was sitting. Tears were falling down her cheeks. She mouthed three words at me.
I love you.
I smiled in spite of myself. No, I was not afraid to die. Even as the scaley face of the Dementor came closer and closer, even as its scaley hands wrapped themselves around my neck, I was not afraid to die. My only regret as the Dementor's mouth closed in on mine was that I caused her to scream that terrible scream, like her heart was being ripped from her body and being torn into a million pieces in front of my eyes.
Maybe it was. But I wasn't afraid to die.
Disclaimer:All characters belong to J.K. Rowling. The lyrics are from the song "The Reason" by Hoobastank.
Author's Note:Nice and depressing, eh? THIS IS NOT A ONE SHOT; THERE WILL BE ONE MORE PART.Please review.