Title: Time was Kind To Us. Fate was Not.

Disclaimer: I own nothing man. Nothing.

A/N: simple one shot: best to listen to 9 crimes by Damien Rice when reading. This is not a part of any fan fiction this is just a quickie I wrote. If you're interested click the link to read some of my work: .net/u/3119794/Daniella405

Time was kind to us. Fate was not. We spent hours in silence simply holding each other as the memories and current troubles flinched away, too afraid to break our barriers. We thought we knew what was in stock for the war. We were naive lovers though and continued our passionate affairs in secrecy, knowing that what was to come would arrive but for the moment to forget about the cursed battles we fought. It was only us. The years we spent loathing and breaking each other were worlds apart from what we had become. I was willing to die for her, and she for me. And that's exactly what she did.

There are two perfect memories engraved in my mind. One, I never want to let go, the other, I find no strength to drop into a pensive. A part of me never wanted even that most horrid memory gone from my mind, knowing it was the one memory that proved what we had was real, but sadly not bulletproof.

The former was of the day we sat in our common rooms, legs crossed in front of each other, silver blending perfectly with beautifully brown orbs. My left hand traveled along her features, cupping her cheek and tracing her jaw line as she fumbled with my right hand in a disinterested attempt at playing that silly muggle game she'd taught me called "thumb-war". The warmth that emitted from her presence was the safest I'd ever remembered feeling. I reached her light fringe and pulled back a strand of loose curly brown hair, putting it back in its place, if there even was one in the start.

She looked down at our hands and returned her gaze, smiling back at me as I chuckled lightly when I looked back down at our entwined hands, her thumb covering mine. "I win." she said lightly. "Good for you then, Hermione." I replied before pulling my right hand away from hers and grabbing the back of her neck as to pull her closer. Our lips met in a soft kiss and after what seemed too short of a second she pulled away, bit her lip and brought my hand back down to hers. I paid no mind and gave her another kiss on the top left of her eyebrow.

"You're far too bashful for your own good, Granger." Her cheeks were tinged pink before retorting "Yes, and you're far too observant." She looked up to find a genuine smile playing across my features. Her smile faded and her eyes glimmered with insecurities. "What is it?" I asked her seriously. She looked away and heaved a small sigh before turning back at me and opening up her innocent eyes. "I.I think I love you, Draco. Is that alright?" A wave of joy crashed through me and in that moment I lived in a sanctuary more powerful than I could ever imagine. We were two familiar strangers in the middle of a battlefield with spells being cast in every direction, shouts and screams of mourning, pain and victory booming, but we paid them no mind. It was heaven in a hell we knew so well only a mere second ago.

She began to pull away, assuming my silence was utter rejection but I'd have none of that and in a swift moment I pulled her close. My hand wrapped around her waist bringing our bodies closer as my other sought out her cheeks bringing our lips together once again.

I kissed her with a force that left every ounce of emotion I felt towards her out of my body and onto hers. No words needed to be said at that moment but as I pulled away I felt the urge to say it out loud. We pressed our foreheads together as I whispered, "I love you, Hermione." She smiled before she pulled away slightly and reached my left forearm. I flinched away, not wanting her to see the dark mark that resided on my skin but she only increased her hold.

"Hermione, what are you-" my throat went dry and the words disintegrated from my tongue as she pulled the sleeve to my white buttoned shirt up and revealed the cursed skin. She brought the imprinted forearm to her lips and kissed it twice very gently. I stared down in awe at the witch in front of me. The witch I had taunted, hurt, broken, thought I knew, and mended throughout our six years of knowing the other. We no longer felt anything other then love. Her actions at that moment were her accepting my silent apologies, who I was, and what we had to fight for, but most importantly, her acceptance with the fact that we were both different sides of this war and that she couldn't give more of a damn.

But of course, we were just naive lovers after all. Time was kind to us. Fate was not. The last memory was of her demise. The one person I could leave everything for had done the same for me. That day the order had apparated to the Dark Lord's residence and the battle had broken out. I pulled Hermione to one of the dingy corners of the broken safe house and we said our goodbyes. Looking back I had it engraved in my mind that we would battle on and on and deflect spells for the other until I gave my life up for her and she was safe to return home with the order and Potter. I had it in my teenage head that if anyone died it would be me, for her, and she'd continue her life without me. But I was wrong. Not once did I think it possible for it to be the other way around. So when the Dark Lord found out about my betrayal he'd made me see how filthy she truly was. Made me hear her screams and see her whither in pain, while the body-bind curses kept me in my place. I screamed with her through and through until he released the cruciatus curse and brought her in front of me, holding her up, only by her bloodied hair. As the Dark Lord rambled on and on about her blood I only stared into her eyes, silver blending perfectly with the beautifully brown orbs he had known so well.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry." I kept repeating to her and all she did in that moment was whimper her last words before the wand pressed to her head released the beaming green light that caused the worse pain I had ever felt.

"It's okay, Draco. I love you."

The rest was muffled screams and more green flashes. I didn't register weasel's cries, potter's spells releasing me of my binds or voldemort's last screams. I only saw her. Eyes vacant emptied of the once beautiful soul I had known so well. No tears were shed that day. Just screams. My own, I soon found out. I dropped on my knees, holding her still body to my arms as if she were the only tether to life I, myself had. The emptiness that followed was indescribable and what's worse was the feeling of the world fading around me. It exited my mind exactly like it had whenever I was with her. The irony of it all only made the shock state I was in dissipated and the tears finally formed, falling quickly. I grabbed her left cheek with my now bloodied hand and pressed my trembling lips to her unresponsive ones for the last time.

The funeral was said to have been beautiful. I didn't attend. It had taken 23 letters from the weasleys and potter to result in me here. In front of her tombstone.

Hermione J. Granger

1980-1998

The brightest witch of her age.

I conjured a simple, enchanted black rose and placed it on her tombstone. Time was kind to us. Fate was not.