Written for the Pack a Punch Drabble Competition
Authors Note: My category is Make Me Cry and my prompt is tie for this competition. Let me know what you think!
Word count without AN: 469
Her eyes flitted to the small clock on the nightstand, heart heavy in her chest.
Nearly 7 o'clock. Nearly time to say goodbye to her best friend and the man she'd unexpectedly fallen head over heels in love with.
Draco and Harry had volunteered to accompany a team of Aurors on a mission trailing Voldemort and his followers. The plan was formulated on the idea that the Dark Lord would have to visit a Horcrux sooner or later and then they would be one step closer to defeating him.
Hermione thought it was a suicide mission. She'd said as much, of course. She'd screamed, cried, and cursed until her voice went hoarse, but they refused to back out. Even Ron, who'd been hit by a dark curse and was bedridden, had tried to talk sense into them.
A soft caress against her cheek brought her out of her daze and without warning she snatched hold of the callous hand and held on for dear life. "Please, Malfoy," her voice cracked and the first traitorous tear slid down face. "Promise me that you won't do anything stupid."
He was silent and that infuriated her.
"Promise me you'll come back, dammit!"
When he bent down to meet her eyes, she noticed how red his own were and that she could see her own fear reflecting back at her. He pressed his forehead to hers and shortly thereafter their lips met, and he kissed her like it would be the last time he'd get the chance.
As Draco pulled away, a soft whisper of "I love you, Granger," brushed against her ear. Her eyes shot open at the confession, the defeated tone in his voice not lost on her, but the room was empty. Across her lap lay the tie she'd stitched him for Christmas that year, emerald and gold, clumsily woven together with a small silver otter and ferret in the middle. It was awkwardly made, but Draco had genuinely smiled when he'd opened it.
The grief and exhaustion all hit at once. Sobbing, she collapsed on his bed clutching the tie to her chest.
She fell asleep to the smell of him, something she would do every day in the weeks to follow.
Three weeks later, Hermione lay curled in Draco's old bed, barely feeling Ginny softly running her hand through her tangled, dirty hair. The redhead was murmuring to her softly, but she couldn't make the words out.
There were no words that would comfort her anyways. Not after the owl that had arrived that morning from Harry, confirming her fears and turning her world upside down.
He was gone.
There were no tears left for her to cry. Just the terrifying feeling of emptiness was left behind.
Draco would never know that she loved him too.