I will wear your sadness like it's mine
Hermione wasn't afraid of death - really. During war, death was tangible, she was able to smell its odour, to almost touch it. And she survived.
But sometimes, like when she had been hunting Horcruxes with Harry and Ron, she imagined how she could die. If that would be dying during battle or dying from her wounds. She wondered how it feels to die.
If dying is like flying away from the body, if consciousness lasts to the final moment? Or if you just fall unconscious to pass away? And the last breath - if you know that this is the last time?
She wasn't afraid of her own death, really. Death wasn't something scary, it didn't make her feel frightened.
But this wouldn't apply to the death of someone she loved.
It was a gloomy, dark day. Rain was pouring heavily. There was a crowd standing in the garden outside of Malfoy Manor. Everyone was wearing black clothes.
"Mrs Malfoy, please accept my condolences." Hermione nodded.
"Thank you," she said quietly and smiled weakly.
She lost track of how many times she was thanking and accepting people's sympathies.
"Hermione." His low voice was near to her. "I can help you with handling this."
"Thank you, Draco. I am fine." She replied, but she noted how he decided to stay by her side. He didn't believe her, she was lying and he was aware of this fact.
"I know you are. You always are," he grabbed her arm and squeezed gently.
Hermione realised that they were her own words. One year ago Draco was standing here and he was the person approached by mourners. He had buried Astoria in their garden as well. Hermione and Lucius were standing next to him and then she said, "I can help you, Draco." He had replied, "I am fine, thank you." She took his hand and whispered, "I know you are. You always are."
He wasn't fine, he was far from being fine. If it weren't for Scorpius, he would have had a mental breakdown.
Today, the roles had changed. The difference being that Lucius was no longer with them.
Lucius had died peacefully in his sleep. He'd passed while Hermione was sleeping beside him. If he could decide, it would be the best possible way - not to worry her instantly.
She was screaming and crying the morning she'd woken up and found his cold body.
Her whole world had collapsed, she was frozen, unable to go anywhere. Everything seemed blurred.
She felt so broken, so helpless, so… lifeless.
Hermione was holding his hand tightly, refusing to let him go.
Only Draco made her do it. He knew precisely what she was feeling. She was the one, one year earlier, who had made him stand up and face the rest of his life.
Like with Astoria, Lucius' death wasn't unexpected. He was sick, but no one, besides closest family, knew. Hermione had been aware that it would happen eventually.
As much as she wasn't afraid of her own death, the thought of Lucius being gone…
He was gone too soon.
The first night after the funeral was the worst night Hermione had ever had. Those two days between his death and the ceremony were so exhausting, leaving her no time to think.
But once the mourners had left Malfoy Manor, Scorpius went back to Hogwarts and only Draco stayed, she had plenty of time to look back. To think.
There was silence. Deafening silence and powerlessness.
Their big bed was so empty now, she was touching his pillows, trying to retrieve a bit of his scent. And she could feel him. The smell had not yet faded away. But it was only a matter of time, she knew that.
Hermione went to his closet and burst into tears. She sat in the corner, pulling her knees up to her chin, wanting the ground to just open up and swallow her so that she could disappear. It didn't happen, but she fell asleep. It was a really shallow sleep, mixing reality with dreams.
In her dream Lucius was standing in the gardens, smiling at her. He looked younger, healthier, happier. He was in his best suit, with his most elegant cane. His hands in white gloves were holding red roses.
The most handsome husband she had ever had.
When she took a step to approach him, everything started to blur. She was no longer in the garden. He was no longer beside her. The day was dark and in the blink of an eye, it started to rain, a storm brewing. She was standing all alone, in the pouring rain.
She woke up screaming in Lucius' closet. Her whole body went numb and she felt a headache starting.
"Hermione?" Draco's voice was coming closer. "I am here." He said and he opened the wardrobe. He looked at her and knelt down beside her.
"I am by your side," he whispered and he squeezed her palms comfortingly.
"I am fine, Draco." She murmured and felt the tears falling down her cheeks.
"I know you will be," he touched her cheek and wiped away a tear. "One day."
Draco stood up and took Hermione's hand, pulling her up to stand.
"You shouldn't be alone today." He said. "And you won't be."
Hermione's eyes were blank and once he looked at her, he remembered how she had helped him. One year ago, he was sitting on his and Astoria's bed. He had a plan to get drunk to the point of oblivion. But before he could she had stepped into his chamber and said plainly: "You will not be alone today. You need to live."
It was harsh then, but from the perspective of time, she was right.
He needed to live, he had a son. At least he should do it for Scorpius.
"I can hold you if you want me to, Hermione." Draco whispered after a few moments.
She was silent, feeling so many tangling emotions. She wanted to bury herself in mourning and perish; allow herself to cry and to scream; allow herself to slowly die.
She wasn't afraid of death, really.
But living without Lucius seemed unthinkable, way beyond the bounds of possibility.
"I know exactly…" Draco started softly, "how you feel now."
And she believed him.
"I don't want to be alone tonight." Her voice was hoarse.
Draco led Hermione outside of her room and they vanished from Malfoy Manor.
She was really surprised, and hadn't expected to leave her home.
'You shouldn't be alone in the Manor." Draco explained briefly and brought her into a different room, one she didn't recognise.
"Where are we now?" Hermione was confused, it was the first time she had ever seen this place.
"It's Scorpius' flat. Once he leaves Hogwarts, he will inherit this place. As he is not yet of age, I am the owner." That explanation was clear, but still she was feeling a bit odd. "It's not a big one. One bedroom, with a small living room and kitchen. I tend to call it "cave". Hermione followed his voice and she found herself in the kitchen.
"I was living here after… After Astoria passed away." He took a bottle of whisky from the fridge. It was an actual Muggle fridge. "It just felt more… appropriate." He grabbed two glasses from a cabinet and handed them to Hermione. "As Astoria didn't like this small space."
Hermione smiled weakly. "I bet she didn't. "
The living room was tiny and the only word that felt fitting to describe it was to say that - it was cosy.
They sat on the sofa and Draco poured whisky into the tumblers.
"Is whisky alright?" He asked and she nodded. She spotted the label and…
"It's Lucius' favourite one." Hermione mumbled and her hands trembled. "It was."
The atmosphere became dense. After a moment of distraction, Draco realized that Hermione's mind was far, far away from London.
"He loved you very much, Hermione." He took a sip of the amber liquid and looked closely at her face.
He could see the endless pain in her eyes. It felt so familiar.
She blinked a couple of times and managed to whisper, "Don't leave me, Draco."
"I won't." He squeezed her hand gently as confirmation of his words. "I'm by your side."
Hermione felt dizzy and her heart was pounding like crazy. She put the glass down, as she wasn't sure whether it would slip from her grasp and crash to the floor.
She felt very hot, but her hands were like ice. She felt a tingling sensation around her mouth and on her fingertips.
"Hermione…" She heard Draco say her name, but his voice seemed so far away. She started shaking and was on the verge of losing consciousness.
His warm hands grabbed her shoulders and wrapped her in his embrace, rocking her. "Hermione," his voice grew louder. "I am here."
She started to sob and Draco allowed her to cry.
They were sitting in silence, cuddling so tightly that they may as well have been one person. Hermione's arms were wrapped around him like chains and he cradled her head on his shoulder to make her more comfortable. Her tears were soaking his shirt, but it didn't matter.
It should be awkward, as she'd never been held like this, at least not by Draco. But it wasn't.
His hold was so tight and she felt safe. She even started to calm down.
Draco's body was warm, vivid, quite the opposite to hers. She desperately needed warmth, she was seeking comfort.
Her head felt heavy and her sight was becoming misty. Her vision blurred, and almost everything around her was gone. Besides Draco. Reaching her hand out, she brushed her fingers against his arm, across his fair, soft skin.
Draco was here, by her side.
Hermione leant her head against his chest and she heard his heartbeat. She breathed easily as he began to caress her hair.
He cleared his throat and his heartbeat picked up.
"Hermione." His voice was low.
She looked at him and she realized she could smell him. His scent was a mix of forest, pines with a musky fragrance. So familiar, and at the same time so new.
He wanted to say something, but she shook her head. She had stopped the world from turning for a moment which was enough before she raised her head to look up at him. An odd sensation was perceptible.
Draco's hand touched Hermione's neck, like butterfly wings, he could feel the warmth of her skin.
Unawares, her lips brushed his. Shyly, hesitantly at the beginning. Unsure of what she might find.
"I'll wear your sadness like it's mine." He whispered against her lips, when they broke apart from the kiss.
Hermione's eyes were teary, blurry. His eyes were carrying all the strength she needed.
Draco's lips pressed harder against Hermione's, without hesitation, he kissed her, like he would never be able to do it again. He had only this moment, here and now.
They both needed it, so that was the reason they melted into it.
Draco was falling fast, craving her scent and the feel of her so close to him, unsure where he ended and she began. Their kiss was a desperate one of two people seeking comfort, looking for a warmth, for… hope.
Their kisses became more intense, his hands were brushing her skin. She parted her lips, pressed closer to him, and moved her hand to his thigh. He welcomed the invitation. Her senses went crazy. He was panting and so was she.
In a few moments, Hermione's breasts were pushing against Draco's body, he was pushing against her lower abdomen. It was primal behavior, they didn't think about it anymore.
They didn't want to be alone today. They needed each other.
Before long, pieces of their clothing landed on the floor. Slowly and gently, he was caressing her body at first, but there was no time, Hermione decided. She slid her leg over his torso, so he was pressed against her lower abdomen without issue. And then, he was guiding himself. Easing inch after inch inside of her. Skin on skin. She cried out, moaned, looking astonished. She was panting every time he thrust into her, her breathing getting more and more ragged.
Draco pulled Hermione even closer as he climaxed inside her. She knew that feeling very well, but it felt different today. It felt like deliverance. Like solace. Like relief.
Pleasure flooded their bodies in waves. He was stroking her body, alone barely on the verge of consciousness. She screamed and he was kissing her cheeks, trembling with her.
He was panting and so was she.
"Hermione." Draco wanted to say something, but she hushed him, her fingers on his lips.
She just hugged him tightly, body to body and said softly, "Please hold me, Draco."
He wrapped her and cradled her head on his shoulder. He was touching her skin, her cheeks, her lips.
They were laying in silence. Words weren't needed.
This day was already hard for both of them.
Because maybe
You're gonna be the one that saves me
And after all
You're my wonderwall