AN: This is my first Fanfic ever, so I'd appreciate any type of constructive criticism, but flaming will not be tolerated. On another note, I love this coupling so much - I realize that I never put in Draco's name, but that was on purpose. It is still a Dramione fanfic, but I hope some other shippers like it as well. I was listening to the fantastic If I Die Young by The Band Perry when I wrote this and that is where my inspiration came from so it is a sad piece. I dislike character death as a general rule, but this just came out as I typed. Hopefully everyone will enjoy it. Thanks for reading my drabble. ~ Faerie
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns HP characters and world. I'm just a pitiful fan in love with her work. I make no profit from this piece and wrote it strictly for entertainment purposes. Same goes for The Band Perry and If I Die Young . . . . still just a rabid fan.
If I Die Young - The Band Perry
If I die young, bury me in satin
Lay me down on a bed of roses
Sink me in the river at dawn
Send me away with the words of a love song
Uh oh, uh oh
Lord make me a rainbow
I'll shine down on my mother
She'll know I'm safe with you
When she stands under my colors
Oh and, life ain't always what you think it ought to be
Ain't even gray, but she buries her baby
The sharp knife of a short life
Well, I've had just enough time
If I die young, bury me in satin
Lay me down on a bed of roses
Sink me in the river at dawn
Send me away with the words of a love song
The sharp knife of a short life
Well, I've had just enough time
And, I'll be wearing white
When I come into Your kingdom
I'm as green as the ring on my little cold finger
I've never known the loving of a man
But, it sure felt nice when he was holding my hand
There's a boy here in town
Says he'll love me forever
Who would've though forever could be severed
By the sharp knife of a short life
Well, I've had just enough time
So put on your best, Boys
And, I'll wear my pearls
What I never did is done
A penny for my thoughts?
Oh no, I'll sell 'em for a dollar
They're worth so much more after I'm a goner
And maybe then you'll hear
The words that I've been singing
Funny when you're dead how people start listening
If I die young, bury me in satin
Lay me down on a bed of roses
Sink me in the river at dawn
Send me away with the words of a love song
Uh oh, the ballad of a dove
Go with peace and love
Gather up your tears
Keep 'em in your pocket
Save 'em for a day when your really gonna need 'em
The sharp knife of a short life
Well, I've had just enough time
So put on your best, Boys
And I'll wear my pearls.
His blue-grey eyes were filled with tears as he placed a pure white rose in front of the dark headstone. It had only been a few days since the stone had been placed in this ancient graveyard, but the sky itself had been weeping since then as if mirroring the emotions of the slender man who stood alone in front of the fresh grave. She had been too young, too perfect. She still had so much to give the world, so much to do - with him. It wasn't fair that she was gone! He wanted to scream those words to the sky, to the supposed all-mighty being who had taken her away from him, but he didn't. As he slowly sank to his knees in front of the headstone, he whispered words of love to her instead.
" 'Mione? I miss you. I don't know how I'm going to be able to survive without you." He paused as his voice was choked away by tears. A sob ripped itself from his chest before he began again. "You were my everything and I couldn't even tell you. Instead I had to pick those stupid fights just to see that spark in your eyes, just to make you look at me - really see me. Oh God! Why did I waste so much time?"
His memories flashed behind his eyes - all of the scenes where they had been together. He remembered her punching him in the face and calling him a ferret. He remembered the pity and contempt that had been swirling in her eyes the first time they had seen each other after he had been forced to take the Dark Mark. He remembered the summer after that, the summer he had been condemned by the Dark Lord and forced into hiding with the "Golden Team", the summer he had finally become her friend. And, above all, he remembered the first time he had kissed her, how she had looked into his eyes and told him that she loved him – all of him, his faults, prejudices, mistakes – even his ugly, horrendous Dark Mark – how she had gently traced the ugly mark on his otherwise flawless skin and gently pressed a kiss to it. But, the other memory, the last one, pushed all of these beautiful scenes aside.
Her face had turned towards him even as the green light raced towards her. He saw her golden brown eyes fly open, impossibly wide as it reached her, and he saw as she flew in the air surrounded by an eerie green light that crackled and pulsated like a thing alive. Even though he saw all of it, he couldn't move until after. He couldn't move until she was already crumpled on the ground, a porcelain doll that had lost its stand. He couldn't move to save the person he loved most. Even as he had rushed towards her, he had known he was too late. As he raised her in his trembling arms onto his lap, her head lolled back on her neck, falling over his arm. His howling cry of loss and anguish rose above all the other sounds of battle, so high and full of pain that the others stopped – only now aware of their loss, that their beautiful, talented friend was gone. And, as they realized what they had lost, his former master, the one who had taken her from him, was destroyed by her best friend.
He forced the memories back, into the darkest, most inaccessible corner of his mind. He traced the words on the headstone reverentially with one pale finger, trembling slightly. The tears continued to trace silently down his sunken cheeks, but he barely noticed, intent as he was on the woman buried deep below him in the cold, unfeeling earth.
"Hermione, come back to me. I'm begging – you're making me beg! You swore to me. You swore that after the war was over, after we were free – you swore that we would be together. You swore we would build a life together, a life with the children we were going to have." He gasped, a hollow sound in this death-filled place, this monument to loss.
"We would have had a little boy first, one with my hair and your eyes. He would have been wild and precocious, but we would have loved him and spoiled him and he would never have grown up with the prejudice I had." A bitter and wistful smile twisted his lips as he continued. "I would have told him every day that no one is better than anyone else in this world and that you were the better person, the better magician, the better everything when compared to me. No matter that I was the one born into the magical world – You were the one who was talented an beautiful and genius. You were the one who was pure. - I would have made sure you knew that every day of our life.
"Then we would have had a little girl after a few years. She would have had your hair – the bane of your existence, I know. But, she would have looked so much like you, and she would have been my little princess and would have had me wrapped around her finger - just like you did." The tears were growing heavier as he described to her what they should have had, what they would have had if her life and the life growing inside her hadn't been cut so short.
He continued speaking to her, drawing a picture of their life together with the words that were pouring out of him. Though the night grew even darker and the rain continued, he never noticed. Eventually, he ran out of words and curled up on top of the freshly turned grave, blanketing himself in the silence and solitude of the graveyard. As the dawn broke, he fell asleep leaning against the headstone. For a short time he was with her, his angel. They were living out their life as he had painted it, but all too soon he awoke to reality. All to soon he was alone.
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