Disclaimer: I do not own any characters mentioned in the Harry Potter series. The lovely J.K. Rowling does. I do not own any lyrics used in this story. The band Flyleaf does. There. Now you can't sue me.

A/N: This story is a songfic based on the Flyleaf songs "Sorrow" and "All Around Me," hence the title.


Sorrow All Around Me

"Did you write this?" she asked, looking up at him from the parchment in her hands.

"Yes," he answered simply.

"Why?"

He didn't answer her. Instead he pleaded with her through storm-grey eyes. "Sing it for me," he said. Actually, it sounded more like a gentle command. She cleared her throat; she had never sang for anyone, not even her friends, before.

"Sorrow lasts through this night.

I'll take this piece of you, and hold for all eternity.

For just one second I felt whole,

as you flew right through me.

And we kiss each other one more time.

And sing this lie that's halfway mine.

The sword is slicing through the question

so I won't be fooled by his angel light.

Sorrow lasts through this night.

I'll take this piece of you, and hold for all eternity.

For just one second I felt whole,

as you flew right through me,

and up into the stars."

"It's beautiful," she breathed when she was done.

"Yes, beautiful," he sighed, looking into her eyes. She got the feeling he wasn't talking about the song, and it scared her.

"You were my inspiration," he said when she remained silent.

"Me?" she questioned. "Why me?"

"I envisioned you singing it when I wrote it," he told her.

A smile played behind her lips. "Oh you did, did you? Well, then I guess you wouldn't mind telling me who I'm singing about?"

He gave her a sad smile; a smile so sad that it broke her heart just looking at him. "Me."


From that day on, he began slipping her little notes and things. Almost always, it was a poem, or a piece of a song. He was quite the writer. She told him to stop on numerous occasions, afraid that her disapproving friends would see him leave the little slip of parchment on her desk one day, or see the secret smile that he would give her when they met in the hall. She also had to watch herself around her so-called "friends," for it would have been disastrous if they caught her staring at him during lunch, when he was laughing and being so carefree with his own friends.


"Why do you look so sad?" she asked him, kissing him lightly on his pale lips.

"It's just getting harder," he told her wearily. She could see it in his eyes; they appeared far too old to belong to a mere sixteen-year-old. He looked far too troubled. He should have been worrying about something normal: sports, girls, grades. Not this. Anything but this. "I just don't want my family to get hurt," he whispered into her hair as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"You still have time," she whispered back. "It's not too late to stop this."

"But it is," he insisted. She pulled back from him, her mouth open to argue. He put a long pale finger to her lips. "Shh," he said. "Just kiss me. Help me forget for just a little while."


They walked hand-in-hand along the shore, the dark waters of the lake lapping at their feet, the moon shining brightly on them.

"They'll wonder why you aren't at their celebration," he pointed out to her.

"They'll get over it," she said, smiling at him reassuringly.

They walked in comfortable silence. She stole glances at him as they walked. Sometimes she wondered what it would be like, if he wasn't the way he was, and she wasn't friends with whom she was, and they could just be together without all the secrecy and the lies. Would life be any happier? Or were the secrets and lies what was keeping them from falling apart?

"It's almost time," he said, pulling her from her thoughts. "Promise me you'll move on when I'm gone."

"Don't talk like that!" she snapped. She couldn't stand it when he talked like that, like he wasn't going to survive. "We'll see each other again."

"That's highly unlikely," he said, taking her into his arms. Kissing her lightly, he sighed and pressed his forehead to hers. "You'll need to be getting back," he said quietly. "They're probably looking for you."

"What about you?" she asked, looking for an excuse not to leave him.

"I think I'll stay out here," he said. "I'm in the mood to write a song, I think."


It wasn't until breakfast the next morning that the terrible news reached her.

He was dead.


Two Years Later

"You always had to have the last word, didn't you?" she asked the cold headstone bitterly. "You arrogant, selfish prick. For once, why couldn't you just do as I asked you?"

She was angry. Angry at him for taking his own life. Angry at herself for the tears she bitterly wept because of him. Angry at others for forcing him to do this, for not understanding him the way she did.

It had been a year since the end of the war. Hardly anyone on the good side had died. At least, no one that she had cared about had died. Save for him. But then again, he wasn't really counted amongst them, was he? When she thought of the injustice of it all, she wanted to scream. She wanted to kill everyone who had ever hurt him, caused him any pain. If that included herself, so be it.

When she had asked to come here, people had been outraged. They had asked questions, raised allegations. Only one had understood. Only one had offered to go with her, to offer the kind of support only a friend could.

"You coming?"

"You go ahead, Ginny," Hermione Granger told her friend. "I just need a moment to say goodbye."

Ginny Weasley gave Hermione a fleeting hug. "I'll be waiting outside the gate," she told her, before walking away, huddled against the cold wind.

"Why did you do it, Draco?" Hermione questioned in a whisper. She looked up and for a fleeting moment, though she got a glimpse of a young man standing behind the gravestone, wearing black robes, with platinum blonde hair. I'm losing my mind. "Why'd you leave me like that?"

Hearing silence greet her question, she sank to her knees in the snow in front of the elaborate headstone that Narcissa Malfoy had insisted on putting up. Tears flowing silently, Hermione gave Draco the best goodbye she could think of.

"And we kiss each other one more time.

And sing this lie that's halfway mine.

The word is slicing through the question

so I won't be fooled by his angel light.

Sorrow lasts through this night.

I'll take this piece of you, and hold for all eternity.

For just one second I felt whole,

as you flew right through me,

and up into the stars."

Pulling her wand out of her jacket, she pointed at her temple. "Goodbye, Draco," she whispered. Taking a deep breath, she muttered, "Avada Kedavra." The piece of parchment she held clutched in her other hand fluttered down to rest upon the grave moments before she fell backwards into the snow.

Ginny had known what Hermione intended to do when she reached the cemetery. She hadn't tried to stop her. Ginny knew that Hermione's mind was made-up. The prejudice, the hate, the suicide...it all had forced Hermione to take her own life. Ginny sighed as she watched Hermione fall. Perhaps now she was with Draco somewhere, and she was finally happy.

Ginny walked over and stood above Hermione. She started to say goodbye when she noticed the little piece of parchment on the ground. Picking it up, she skimmed through it. There were tears in Ginny's eyes as she folded the parchment back up and set it on Draco's headstone.

"Goodbye, Hermione," Ginny whispered, walking away.


To Draco:

I can feel you all around me

Thickening the air I'm breathing

Holding on to what I'm feeling

Savoring this heart that's healing

Take my hand

I give it to you

Now you owe me

All I am

You said you would never leave me

I believe you

I believe

I can feel you all around me

Thickening the air I'm breathing

Holding on to what I'm feeling

Savoring this heart

That will never heal

Love, Hermione

Fin


A/N: This is like the saddest thing I've ever written. Honestly. I think I just brought myself to tears. Because I don't write stuff like this often, I'm asking you to please (please, please, please, please...) review. It would mean a lot to me. Thanks guys!

--The Witch and the Saint