This is a one-shot I have written. I don't own the characters. Duh. PLEASE REVIEW...

"Today is not going to be a good day," I mumbled out loud, as I opened my eyes and glared out of the window. I saw the black ominous clouds rolling in, casting a dark gloom in the already melancholy bedroom. Maybe I should have taken the colour of the sky as a warning, as a sign that I should have been put off what I had been procrastinating on for weeks now. I rolled over and looked at my alarm clock, confirming what I already knew: the large green numbers read 6:32 am - way too early to be up on a Saturday morning.

Nothing was the same anymore after they died.

"Just get it over with," I muttered, as I tossed my wretched covers off and sighed as the sound of rain had begun to pound on the roof above me. The smell of coffee and the sound of the banging dishes told me that Draco Malfoy was already downstairs in the kitchen, making breakfast. It would be a miracle if I got out of the house without him seeing me. The last thing I wanted was a pity party from him or him telling me how he didn't want me "doing this alone". Of course, he didn't know the real reason. I carefully opened our bedroom door, hoping it wouldn't squeak if I opened it just right. I tiptoed to the bathroom, ran a brush through my hair, and eventually giving up on untangling it, put it in a ponytail. I pocketed my wand. After getting dressed I was ready for my escape.

I rushed out and rounded the corner of Oak Avenue, relieved that I had gotten away. The few houses I passed on the way were still dark on the inside, probably because the people were still fast asleep in their warm, dry beds. Why would any sane person be up so early on a dreary Saturday morning? I wrapped my arms tightly around my chest, trying to secure the little warmth I had left inside my body. Not that I should have been surprised, as this was typical, unpredictable weather in Skye, especially at this time of year. The closer I got, the more the smell of salt from the sea burned my nose with each breath, the memories flooded my head and the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach worsened. I wrapped my arms tighter around myself, hoping it would help ease some of my anxiety and pain.

Finally I approached the rusty iron gates of the cemetery. As I stood there, staring at the gates I debated if I wanted to go inside. There was still an option to turn back, I thought. It wouldn't matter if I didn't go inside. But a feeling drew me to open those gates, a feeling I regret having.

I opened one of the rickety gates and stepped into my worse nightmare. I stared deeper into the desolate graveyard filled with nothing but cold, concrete stones: some tall and slender, some wide and short, and some so small you could barely see them over the overgrown grass and fog. A few graves had fresh flowers on them, but most of them were bare or broken from stupid kids that thought these memories were toys. I sighed realizing that. For all those bright and sunny days that I had avoided going there, this was the price for my procrastination would have to do it. Go up to them again. I last saw their graves at their funeral and I was terrified. The hot tears that I tried to hold back released on my freezing face. Taking a deep breath I put one foot forward and began the walk that I'd been accustomed to come over the years. The stone path of the cemetery is always lined with the appropriate foliage for the season. Since it was late may, there were yellow daffodils along the way, the only signs of life in this burial ground.

Glancing up at the sign, "angles passage" I knew that I was getting close.

After a few more steps, I came to the site where both my parents are buried. The largest headstone in the cemetery reads: Granger. The names of my father and mother read below along with all the sentimental beloved and loving stuff. Not that any of that isn't true, but it does not seem right for them; there is so much more to them than those simple words. The words do not even come close to doing them justice.

There was a reason I came to the cemetery that day: I came to tell my parents that I was leaving. It felt awful telling them that I no longer could visit them, and saying it out loud hurt more than I thought it would. My mind had been made up for a while now, but I haven't been able to find the courage to go there and tell them. Its not that I finally found the courage; its the fact that I had finally run out of excuses. This was the end.

I tried my best to explain to them why I was leaving, why I wanted nothing more to get out of this world. There was an overpowering need for me to get to the place and find the answers I had been looking for my whole entire life. I knew that I was meant for something more than being just Hermione Granger, the girl who suffered a tragic loss. There was nothing wanted more than to erase that brand bestowed upon me.

While I sat with my back propped up against the cold gravestone. After sitting and talking to the two people I loved most.

Draco probably wouldn't have liked me going to the cemetery all by myself. He always said that I should never go there alone, that it was not good for me. Ill miss Draco. He was the only one there for me after the war when my parents left. He was there for me when I started loosing weight. He was the only one in the world that cared. At least he will live a happy life, all ever did was make him worry.

The rain had stopped when I looked up, I could see the sun fighting to get through the canopy of trees above me. The feeling of warmth made me smile. It was a content feeling that I'm probably never going to have again. I had been torturing myself for weeks now to come and talk to them, to tell them.

There is no turning back.

I slowly pull out my wand. I have no control over my hand as I raise it and point it to my heart. I open my mouth and start to mutter the 2 words that will end my life.

"Avada kedavr-"

"No" he spoke.

I feel warmth on my hand as I feel my wand being turned away from me. The dreaded green light blinded me as it hit Draco.

It was too late.

For the first few seconds, no words pass my mouth. There is just his cold stare and the adrenaline coursing throughout my body.

I scream. Louder than ever in my life. He too was now gone and it was my fault.

My hands shake again as my tears blur my vision. I slowly raise my wand; the last time I raise my wand.

Now nothing is worth living for.

My wand points to my heart.

"Avada kedavra"

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