To everyone, they were opposites. Completely different. They hated each other with a fierce passion. Both were wilful and stubborn, both too proud to admit to their obvious faults so no one questioned the relationship they shared: there was no relationship they shared.

Mudblood.

Ferret.

But their lives were missing something vital: each other. He kissed her first and she kissed back, knowing she was kissing the enemy and a death eater but for once, she did not care.

You test my patience Granger.

Granger. Not Mudblood. Unbeknownst to them, they had started off a chain of events that would eventually be their downfall. It had started with fleeting glances in classes, stolen kisses in shadows. It had lead to something raw, uncontrollable and their need for each other grew until both were smothered with it.

I love you.

The skies were bleak. Winter had arrived. Winter, the season of the dead, it was always his season. He would sit with her beneath the pine tree and whisper sweet things while she played with the daisies she had collected. It would be freezing, and they often caught colds on nights such as these yet their need to be together overcame any physical restraints.

Together forever.

He shared his past and she planned their future. No one would have thought of the depth of feeling she had for him and he for her, yet a barrier kept them apart, kept them forever quarrelling.

I have obligations Hermione.

Yes, indeed he did. Year after year they had ignored the problem, believing that they had time, time for the love to blossom. Secretly, on abandoned corridors and forgotten classrooms, they showed their love in ways beyond compare, beyond mere words. Her friends were oblivious; it seemed with the war looming over them and the future hanging on Harry's shoulders. It was a dark and dangerous time to have attachments and yet they refused to let go of theirs. She loved him- all of him: The wildness, the fear, the weakness and the strength and he loved her. He loved her mind, her soul and her caring nature. It was impossible-their love- but they fought against the current with everything their minds and bodies would allow.

I don't want you to go. Don't go it's too dangerous.

He had the mark. He was branded as one who swore allegiance to the murderous half blood: Lord Voldmort. She found out, saw the flinch whenever she touched his arm. Hermione was a smart girl, and she knew. He had no choice, he did not want to die, and because she loved him so, she ignored it a little while longer.

You have to fight with us.

It was a vain hope, for she knew that he won't be excepted: It was too late in the war to change sides but still she begged, argued, pleaded and demanded, his decision was adamant. She refused to talk to him then, for a time that is, and it hurt him so much to watch her pain, her suffering. Still, he did not alter his decision.

And she went back to him eventually, because she loved him

I can't.

The war came a quick and ended slow: Many casualties and even more deaths. By then end of it, bodies were mangled in the ground as brother fought brother, friend fought friend and it was despairing and plagued with the Devil's hand.

Harry Potter had obliterated Voldmort, but amidst the fighting, no one realised. Hermione had a bruised cheek, among other things, but she pushed herself to hit at more men with masks, each a reminder of how they'd taken her Draco. They had not spoken since the night before the start of the war.

I can't fight them, knowing you could be one of the masked ones I hit!

-You have to try

-For me.

What if I hit you? What if you die?

-Everybody dies Love, I am just man enough to admit it.

Another hit, but something seemed oddly familiar about how this particularly death eater held himself. Perhaps it was the superior arch of the back, or the wisps of silver hair that escaped his mask but she knew, right then, that it was he. Her burst of joy stole through her at his obvious life and she rushed forward to meet him, right in the middle of the battlefield. He looked up, that horrid mask obscuring his features, and saw his Hermione running towards him like life itself depended on her touching him. He met her half way and they embraced. He cried.

I thought I'd lost you Draco!

He didn't see anything, only her.

I know. I'm here now.

A desperate opposition, seeing the failure of his side, watched on.

Don't ever leave me.

Rage filled him like a cancer, growing until it consumed him.

I'm yours forever.

He aimed. He fired. He never missed.

Draco? Draco?!? No-

No, please, you can't leave me, not now.

Wake up.

She did not see the victory cry from Harry, or the people with grim smiles on their faces. She did not see the curious glances she got from the others, as she clutched uselessly to a dead Death eater.

She only saw Draco and her life dead in her hands.