Her Last Sentence

There was only an hour till the ball. Speculation had begun about my choice. Slytherins shunned me, though they still obeyed my command. I was done minutes ago. What is there to do? My hair was like it always was. I threw on a dress robe in seconds. That was pretty much it, was it not?

I stepped out of the Slytherin dorms, ignoring anyone who was in front of me. It was easy to me to pretend everyone I did not want to see to be invisible. I could just stare past their bodies and envision the particular space they were blocking.

Before I could hear the stone wall slide back into place, I heard light footsteps. My hand slid instinctively into my pocket, grasping my wand. You can never be too sure who was going to hex you when you are in Slytherin.

"I'm not going to hex you, Draco," the familiar high soft voice of Pansy flooded my ears through the silence.

I turned around and gave a curt smile. She was all dolled up for the ball. Her usual short bowl cut morphed into a small bun with strands of hair over her face. Her hard face seemed softer and her dark eyes were lighter. She had blue eye-shadow around her eyes and she had a pastel pink gloss on her lips. She smiled lightly at me. A green gown she wore with black lace trimmings.

"Pansy," I greeted cordially.

"Hi Draco," Pansy said politely, "I just wanted to say, good luck."

A small simple sentence that seemed to hold a hidden agenda, but I knew it meant well all the same.

She continued to smile at me. I smiled back in response. She nodded meaningfully and turned back to return into the dorms. I never thought I would live to see Pansy say thank you sincerely. But then again, I never thought I would fall in love with Hermione Granger either…

I looked around for Hermione. The dance was beginning soon. I knew she would not run. She was not the kind to leave in cowardice. Just then Potter and his friends came in.

Potter was with Weaslette of course, Weasley with Brown. I anticipated the next arrival. I was right. Hermione followed behind Brown.

I walked towards her, much to the suspicious hostility directed at me from Potter and Weasley. From Hermione's face, I could tell she was not angry anymore. She had a small smile on her face, teasing me as I approached.

She stood out in the room, I could tell. The trend nowadays it seemed was pastel light colors. And only Hermione was wearing bright blood red in the room. Ever proud of her house, I never doubted that she would pick the color red above all others.

Despite the occasion, Hermione still could not get her hair to tame down. Although I could see that it was shinier, and in less a tangled mess than before. She wore gold eye-shadow, her brown lashes framing her eyes beautifully. Her tan eyes daring me to do something.

Her dark peach lips smirking at me, agreeing with her eyes. Hermione was getting more and more accustomed to smirking recently, must have spent too much time with me.

Her gown had a corset, decorated with inter-crossing lines to make a perfect symmetrical pattern with silver across. It hugged her torso perfectly, with a black satin skirt to finish it off. The skirt reached the floor, the satin skirt rustled against the white marble floors of the room.

I bounded over the room in a sprint and enveloped her in a hug. I wonder how this might have looked. I never thought that I would be an example of inter-house unity. Her hair smelt wonderful, mint, as usual. And even as I hugged her I could not help but feel a twinge of regret. There was no doubt that Astoria had already told my father.

But I knew him well. Well enough to know that he would not make an entrance now. He would probably wait in my room to tell me the news. There was no support either way. My mother would have supported my father to the end. Astoria was going the same way. And Hermione can never know of this.

I looked sideways in Hermione's embrace to Snape's look of contempt. I stared at him steadily, waiting for a response before he gave me a nod. A shallow dip of his head, but I caught it. It was now all set. Hermione's friends would be informed by Blaise before the day was over.

I broke free; Hermione's smile was wide as ever, I led her to the dance floor. Her eyes widened considerably before she leaned over and whispered in my ear, "I have no idea how to dance, Malfoy,"

I gave her a quick grin before whispering back, "It's all in the leading, il mio amore."

Her blush deepened in color, she straightened her posture and lifted her chin like how she danced with Krum. I rolled my eyes at how she tried to hold herself, even though what she was doing was perfectly fine. As if to punish me for laughing at her, her heel dug into my dress shoes.

I winced in pain and shot her a questioning look. She smiled at me sweetly and I could not hold back a chuckle.

That was how it was for the rest of the dance. We were fooling with each other, determined to make the other slip up first. Earning us a couple of laughs and a few curious looks during the dance, when it ended, Hermione walked out of the circle, determined to make a fool of herself anymore.

"I'm going to get a drink, you want one?" She asked.

"No thank you, I think it will be better if I go and get you one," I replied. She rolled her eyes in that infuriating manner, brushing my comment off lightly.

"I'm perfectly capable of walking over there and getting one myself, Draco," she replied and pushed her way through the huge crowd watching Blaise swing some random girl with black hair on the floor.

I tried to keep my eyes on her, it was not that hard since her striking red dress was not hard to lose, but through the sea of people, I was losing sight of her gradually. Nevertheless, my eyes were trained on her hair. She had gotten to the food table, she had better arrive fast, the first dance was starting soon, and the professors are slowly arriving.

Then a flash of blonde crossed her head and she was gone. My mouth was set into a grim line. I had every idea who the blonde was…

I pushed past the gawking couples roughly. Were Zabini's dancing skills really that great? I had no doubt that Hermione would be able to hold her own. But just in case Astoria decides to do anything.

"He made his decision a few days ago," I heard Hermione hiss.

"His choice was wrong"

"Wrong?" Hermione questioned.

I heard Astoria's ear-splitting laugh. My heart suddenly felt a sudden jolt. She was going to tell Hermione something horrible. Something I did not want Hermione to know. Then… she told her.

"The day after this, Draco's going to get the dark mark. And the day after that, he is going to marry—

My hand closed upon Astoria's foul lips. Her black dress reached the ground, making it hard for me to stand properly. My other hand has already closed around my wand. One more word and she was going to—

"Is this true, Draco?" Hermione asked in a small voice.

I kept my eyes down on the struggling traitorous slut. All of sudden Astoria's body went limp. I looked up and Hermione was holding her wand. Her brown eyes were staring at me in fury. Her lips were firm, all signs of playfulness gone, her brows were furrowed and her hair was suddenly wilder than ever.

I looked for back-up, she could not remember this. I did not want her to remember me like this. It has been barely a week but I have loved her for all of a few years. If only I could have more time, at least a few more months if not a year.

Unexpectedly, Snape was brushing through the students and Potter and Weasley were charging through the left. She was cornered. I had no reason to explain to her now, and I did not want to. Yet her eyes still glared at me, demanding for an answer.

It was rare to ever see a woman with so much rebel and spirit in her. I gave her a sad smile. Snape raised his wand and uttered a spell, and then… she fell into my arms, knocked out…

"You're planning to leave her?" Weasley demanded forcefully. I guess Blaise had not explained things clearly enough to them.

"Yes," I said bluntly.

I watched Hermione's flaccid body on the Hospital Wing's bed. She was still wearing her dress, her previous frown still etched on her unconscious face. Snape was pouring a silver liquid down her throat and I could not bear to watch.

"You damned—

"Ron, I'm sure he has a good reason," Potter restrained him by gripping the red-heads shoulder. Potter seemed to understand why I was doing this and he confirmed my suspicion when he asked.

"Do you need any help from us?" he asked.

I shook my head. There was no other route I could tread. I was getting my life chosen for me tomorrow anyway. Potter nodded and led Weasley away.

My eyes strayed to Hermione again. Snape had finished pouring the silver liquid from the potion vial. He was careful to not spill any. As far as I was informed by him, this potion was rare and dangerous.

It erased memories and replaced them with fake ones. Ones that was familiar to your mind and comfortable with your brain. The dosage depended on how much you wanted erased. And since it was only a week, Hermione needed no more than half a bottle which was measured out a few hours before the ball.

A few seconds later, Hermione thrashed around her bed just like what Snape anticipated she would. Knowing her character, she might struggle for a few more minutes than the normal patient and eventually she would succumb to the effects of the potion. I knew she would, no one could escape the clutches of it. No one in reported history, that is.

I sat down numbly on the chair beside her bed; I tried to pin her down, in fear that she would hurt herself. And soon the melody of a recent song I heard flooded into my mind and unconsciously I began to sing.

"It's a beautiful lie,
it's a perfect denial.
Such a beautiful lie to believe in,
so beautiful, beautiful lie makes me."

I guess I could deem it as our song. Though it was a pretty unusual song to choose, most normal people chose songs that spoke of happy endings, beautiful sunsets. But then again, both of us were not normal.

Under the melody, Hermione stopped struggling, her body calmed down. The potion had taken effect. And she would never remember the week's incident except for the students of Hogwarts. From whom I was sure was warned against it.

One day, I was certain she would find out. Through her friends, family or maybe her future spouse who was from Hogwarts too. But she will never recall the strong yet fragile bond between us. The spark that set us aflame when we touched, the magic I felt when I saw her face…

Maybe for the better or for the worse, but I knew I could never lay a finger on Hermione Jane Granger lying down in front of me. The mudblood whom I was forbidden to love, and yet I still did.

Perhaps she taught me how to hope. Because I could not stop praying that something will happen tomorrow and lead me away from the path I was meant to take.