Prologue
This is it. This is how it ends. The world of Harry Potter. The life of magic. The majesty of Hogwarts. This is where they go their separate ways. This is where they were headed for so long. Fighting for the end. There was so much fight and so much tragedy that they forgot to wait. To slow down. To stop and think and wonder. Wonder at their life. Wonder at themselves and what they have become. Wonder if it all went by so quickly that they never had the chance to wonder at all.
Hermione looks down at her suitcase, overstuffed with things she has never actually used. Sweaters and winter hats and toiletries. She takes a long look at the small bookshelf in the corner of her room, almost imperceptible under the pile of books. She sighs and heaves the suitcase up, spilling its contents over onto the bed. She walks over to the bookcase and starts to collect the books strewn around it and gingerly piles them into the newly emptied suitcase.
Once she's gone through about a third of the books, she lifts the lid of the suitcase over and attempts to zip it up. She groans when she hears a tear somewhere. Unzipping the case, she starts to look for the source. As Hermione tries to zip it up once more, having been unsuccessful in locating the tear, she leans into the suitcase, willing her slim body to compress the volumes in the case enough for it to close.
"Need some help there, Granger?"
In an attempt to be graceful, Hermione slips off of the suitcase and stands up, looking at the open door to her dormitory. Draco Malfoy, lopsided smirk and all, stands in the entranceway.
Hermione straightens her back but remains rooted to the spot, not knowing how to react. Just the other night they were sworn enemies. Before the end. Before the beginning. Before all the time that just dropped on her lap for which she has no place and no use. Before the wonder.
He looks tired. As if he hasn't slept in weeks. His eyes are bloodshot, even from a distance. She could see the dark bags carrying his gaze. His smirk isn't lively as she would expect, but weary and wavering, as if he were concentrating on keeping up appearances.
"Shouldn't you be in Azkaban by now?" she manages to say.
He doesn't move a muscle. Even his smile remains intact, although the corners of his mouth flicker.
"If only," he finally says.
A long moment goes by before Hermione speaks again.
"What is it that you want?" Malfoy's face is the reminder of everything that was. The more she watches him, the harder it becomes to breathe without crumbling. Her friends – Fred, Lupin, Tonks – all gone, maybe not because of Malfoy, but not in spite of him either. How could he stand here and just be? He has no right.
Draco shakes his head, tightening his lips. He bows his head slightly, breaking his gaze with Hermione, and lifts his hands in the air, backing away.
"What are you even doing here?" Hermione calls angrily as he retreats into the corridor. "Are you lost?"
Hermione heaves a colossal gasp and collapses onto her bed, sobbing uncontrollably. She grabs at the loose articles of clothing strewn upon the covers that were previously discarded from the suitcase and buries her face into them. Her cries are not quiet but nobody comes. Everyone has gone. Gone their separate ways. After all, it is the end.