Draco, in a drunken haze, made his way back to his flat. He stumbled into his apartment and fell onto his couch where he quickly passed out. He was awoken the next morning by a throbbing in his head equal to that in his heart. Not able to withstand the pain he crawled towards the toilet and proceeded to vomit up his stomach lining as he had nothing else in there. He lay on the bathroom floor with the tile cooling his face and thought. He thought about last night and all the nights before. He though about the way that she smelled, kissed, tasted and how he would never get to feel her again.
He slowly moved into the shower and let the warm water rush down upon him as he sat in the tub. His tears mixed with the droplets, and only because he could taste the salt on his lip, did he know that he was crying. Hopelessness consumed him and he no longer had any will to fight it back. The water turned cold but he didn't even notice until his body started to shiver. Draco stayed on the floor of his bathtub for a little while longer, teeth chattering, until he finally found enough energy to shut the water off and wrap himself in a towel.
His head still throbbing in tune with his heart he went to his bedroom where he surrounded himself up in his feather comforter and fell into a deep sleep.
**
He
was engulfed in darkness, suffocating him from all sides.
His arms reached out, grasping for anything to hold on to. He could
feel his legs getting weaker, so weak that he could no longer hold
himself upright. He fell to his knees and groped the ground, trying
to hold on as if his life depended on it. He sprawled out on the
floor of the dark room, wanting every inch of his body to be touching
the ground, it was the only thing that made him feel the slightest
bit safe. He crawled forward on his belly, hoping to bump into
something but never finding anything.He
must have been crawling for hours, his muscles ached and his throat
was dry, when he saw in the distance a faint glow. It was far away
from the look of it, but the pinprick of light guided him forward.
The light was so bright in the darkness that it hurt to look at it so
he turned his head to the side, only checking back to make sure it
was still there every so oftenThe
light came upon him faster than he would have expected and he was on
the floor in front of it in mere moments. Afraid to look up but more
afraid not to he lifted his weary head and took in the most beautiful
thing he had ever seen. It was her, surrounded in a white glow, hair
flowing freely around her, her eyes full of sadness. She reached down
to him and grazed his cheek with her luminescent fingers; he could
feel the trail of her fingers long after they had left his face. A
lone tear fell down her cheek and landed on his nose; spreading
warmth throughout his entire body.She
grabbed his hands and her fingers intertwined with his own. When he
looked at their joined hands he noticed that his hand was glowing as
well. She raised him up from the floor and they stood face to face.
The darkness fell from around them and was replaced with what he
could only describe as hope. She leaned her face in to his, their
lips mere centimeters apart and with a jolt that ran through his
entire body, they kissed.**
Draco
shot up in bed, savoring the kiss from his dream. It had felt so
real, more like a vision than a dream. Hope beat through his veins,
beating out all sense of despair. He would win her, no matter who he
was against. He couldn't just give up, he was Draco Malfoy, and he
would prevail.
A
fresh new wave of guilt engulfed Hermione after the red head left;
along with a desperate desire for Malfoy to come back, but he didn't.
After her surprise visit she stayed in seclusion. It didn't take
much to convince her boss that she needed some time off, in fact he
seemed relieved that she had suggested it.
She remained locked in her room, curled up on her bed, getting up only to pee and for an occasional biscuit. Her hair was greasy, her legs hairy and she could even smell her own stink, had she been in any other state of mind she would have been disgusted by herself.
There was a light knock on her door, and not even thinking about her appearance she went to answer it, still wearing the sweats that she had donned two nights before.
Hermione opened the door a crack, just enough to see who her visitor might be, there was no one there. She pulled the door open a little more and noticed a package wrapped in brown paper lying on her doormat.
There was a note scrawled on the top in unfamiliar handwriting:
For
your new collection
'For
my new collection of what?' She wasn't collecting anything. She
went to her room and grabbed her wand from her nightstand. A few
spells later and she felt safe enough to bring the package inside.
She unwrapped it slowly, careful not to tear the paper.
Hermione pulled out a leather bound copy of Hogwarts: A History and thumbed the spine. It had gold filigree writing, and a drawing etched into the leather. When she opened it she saw that there was a handwritten introduction. It was definitely much more money than anyone had ever spent on her, but she smiled as her fingers traced the etching on the cover.
She started reading it immediately, not even waiting to get to her couch. She immersed herself in the ever memorized history of her alma mater. Every page brought her new joy and memories of her childhood. It was such an innocent time in her life when she first picked up a copy of this book and took it to memory.
When she had finished reading the book in its entirety a cold chill went through her and it felt like an icy hand had just grabbed a hold of her ever aching heart. It was wonderful to lose herself in such happy memories, but all that it did would bring back the other kind; the memories that haunted her every hour of every day. As the hand squeezed tighter the ache folded in on her, crushing her from all angles.
She
rubbed her small hands over her belly, trying desperately to feel the
bump that she knew would be growing. He looked at her with pure joy
in his eyes as his hands followed hers down her front and she giggled
at his touch."Does
that tickle?" He asked playfully as he continued to run his hands
over her belly moving them to her sides."No,
please stop," she insisted as she squirmed on their bed, trying to
push his hands away."Why?
It's fun to watch you wriggle," his hands groping now as she
tried hard to stifle her laughter. They rolled around and she
maneuvered her way on top of him. Now it was her turn and she knew
just the spot. Her fingers worked their way diligently to under his
arm as he squealed beneath her."How
do you like that, huh?""No,
no, please stop." His legs jerked wildly underneath her as his face
turned a familiar crimson. She relaxed her fingers and brushed them
slowly down his chest, brushing one underneath the hem of his shirt.
It grazed his skin ever so slightly and he shivered beneath her, this
time from desire.She
moved her head down to place a gentle kiss on his lips. He pulled her
closer and whispered softly in her ear, "you are going to make one
hell of a sexy mum."
Hermione
placed Hogwarts:
A History
on the mantle of her fire place, as she had no bookshelves, and went
back to her hideaway, curled under her blankets, and fell back into
her usual dreamless, joyless, sleep.
She was jerked awake by knocking on her door. "What now?" she groaned as she stomped to the front door. Not even caring about who it might be she opened the door fully and took in another package wrapped in the same brown paper. The same note as before inked on it in that precise penmanship of yesterday.
Hermione was less careful with the opening of the package this time and ripped right through the paper. It was The Art of Arithmancy by Griselda Numerino, only ten were known to be in print, she had heard about this book in school, but never in her dreams would she ever think that she could own it, Hogwarts didn't even have a copy. There would be no memories attached to this book, nothing to awaken the darkness that forever threatened to take over her entirely.
With a much lighter heart she again immersed herself in the joys of reading.
