"Get rid of it Granger!" he'd told her.
How could he have been so stupid? How could he have put her in danger like that? Their one selfish night of passion had created a life. She was pregnant with his baby. But he couldn't be a father. There was a war going on. Voldemort would murder them all if he found out and he loved her far too much to allow that to happen. So he told her to get rid of it and to never bother him again.
He didn't mean to fall in love with her. But he did, and now he had to push her away to keep her safe. Gods, he missed her so much, but he couldn't cry for her or their baby. Their poor baby that never had a chance. He couldn't show any emotion at all or the Dark Lord would know and he would kill them all.
Two Years Later…
The note had said she'd never been able to forgive herself for what she'd done – for what he'd ordered her to do. She wrote that even though she tried to move on after the war, she could never forget their child that never got to live. She would never forget that feeling of having a life inside her and she would never get rid of the feeling of death she felt now. So she took a week's worth of those damn Muggle sleeping pills to help her forget.
At her burial he stood next to her grave and watched as her fiancée, Weasley, fell grief-stricken to the floor. Somehow Draco envied him that. The ability to grieve for her – the only woman he would ever love.
After the funeral Potter came up to him, tear tracks etched across his face and whispered, "This is your fault, you know."
"I can't be held responsible," He gasped out as the tears he'd never been able to cry finally began to stream down his face. "For the life of me, I cannot believe she'd ever die for our sins. We were merely freshman."