A/N. Whoa guys, chill! I know I gave you all one hell of a cliffhanger and it's frustrating, but that was kind of the point. It's supposed to get you guys thinking, "What happened? What can happen?" but never give you any closure. I didn't want to drag out this fanfic too much.
When I first conceptualized the idea for the story, I thought up the climax and loved it instantly. Dramatic writing is really what I'm best at; I'm shit with happy endings. So in this story, Draco gets nothing more than a fleeting touch of love, of true love, but as soon as he finally gets her heart, finally finds love, it's taken away from him and it's her fault (however inadvertent). She touches the Dark Mark on his arm in the midst of their passion, and I think we all know what that means. If you read between the lines of the "now" parts, you'll see he's imprisoned in Malfoy Manor. If you want details, he's locked up in the second floor storeroom, and the timeline (_ days ago) sort of tells you how long he's been there. It's all a bit vague, but that's what it is.
I'm posting this surplus chapter mainly to explain things to the people who are confused. I'll also take the opportunity to say that I can't guarantee a sequel. I'm considering it, juggling a few ideas, but I'm not making any promises. I may just write a completely new fan fiction that gives them a happy ending instead. But rest assured, I'll do something.
In the meantime, here's something to heighten the suspense and the throes of agony I know you guys are going through (please don't hate me hahaha). It's not an actual epilogue, more like a teaser (that may not lead to anything). Again, thank you so much for your reviews, critiques and support! 118 reviews- that's the most I've gotten and each one has made me incredibly happy. I look forward to writing more Dramione for you in the future!
xxxxx
The room dimmed as the sun set, and Draco put down the quill, his eyes hurting from trying to write in the dying light. He touched the pages of his latest journal, feeling the indentations his words had made, the craters of his feelings. It had hurt to write it all down, but he knew he needed to. He had to preserve the memory of her somehow, some way, in any way. He was grateful they hadn't taken his journals away from him. His hands still itched for his wand, though.
Darkness filled the room, but he was used to it by now. He crossed the room blindly, using his hearing and his touch to guide him. He found the couch, curled up on it, raised his fingers to the scratches he'd made on the wall, one for every day he'd been imprisoned. The earliest ones were beginning to be smoothed over. It had been so long. He wondered what they'd done to her. If she was still alive.
The window creaked suddenly, and Draco tensed, pushing himself against the cushions. A longer creak followed, then silence. The room was pitch black; there was a new moon out. Soft, soft footsteps made their way across the room, so quiet that if Draco hadn't been wary of them, he would not have heard them. He huddled against the couch, desperately trying not to make any noise. The footsteps drew closer and Draco was sure the thudding of his heart was leading the intruder to him, it was beating so loud, and his breathing grew ragged and he screwed his eyes shut and Merlin, he didn't want to die, not without seeing her again, feeling her skin against his one last time-
-and a hand reached out and grasped his and wrapped his fingers around something thin and wooden and warmth spread through Draco, the same warmth and security he'd felt all those years ago, in a wand shop in Diagon Alley. He gripped his wand tightly and opened his eyes. Nothing, just utter blackness. He saw nothing, heard nothing but his own breathing. He traced a finger across the wand to make sure this wasn't all a dream.
And the a voice spoke, urgently, quietly, a voice Draco hadn't heard in months. A voice that brought back memories of a lonely boy watching a red-haired girl from between library shelves-
"Hurry."