Fragile
If blood will flow when flesh and steel are one
Drying in the color of the evening sun
It had finally dawned upon us. The dark ages had risen again. All those who had no power and all those to weak to defend themselves perished. Only the strong survived this deadly onslaught. The rise of the Dark Lord was finally at hand!
Hermione sat in a broken down building, clutching her only protection, her wand to her chest. She glanced frantically at the boarded-up windows. The rain fell from the sky in torrents. The gods were angry at humanity for being so foolish as to destroy what they had so kindly placed upon its shoulders. It poured ages, years of hard times upon their head just like the rain that fell ceaselessly.
Hermione shuddered as a cool wind blew threw the wooden door. How little protection this small building offered, but in this world of sinister evil so little protection can be found, unless under the wing of Voldemort himself.
Hermione rose to her feet, staggering to the door on unsteady legs. She had just been in a fight with one of the death eaters. She had been cursed. A curse she didn't know much about. It seemed to drain her of her powers and leave her weary and tired.
She pushed open the wooden door, glancing for a place to run. This building was not under any circumstances safe. She cursed herself for never learning to apparate. Slowly covering her head with her cloak, she stepped into the dangers of the street.
Tomorrow's rain will wash the stains away
But something in our minds will always stay
Perhaps this final act was meant
Draco Malfoy, second in command to Voldemort himself walked down the deserted city street flanked by about six death eaters. Draco's black cloak was charmed to not get wet, it brushed around him, untouched by the rain. His hair was no different from when he was young. Its pale blond locks were perfectly gelled back. His grey eyes scanning the perimeter for any escaped Muggle or Mudblood.
His eyes were drawn to a specific alley way, when he heard a loud crash of a falling trash can. His hand swung out, stopping anybody from chasing after the noise.
To clinch a lifetime's argument
"I'm going alone."
"But sir, the noise could be coming from a wizard. A powerful one, at that," Xavier, a new death eater, still young and naïve in their ways, warned.
"We have Harry Potter in our grasp. What other wizard could possibly be more threatening to the dark side?" Draco questioned, as he pulled his hood over his blond hair.
Xavier said nothing more as his commander walked towards the alleyway cloaked in darkness and shrouded in arrogance.
Draco entered the alley, automatically disgusted by the looks of it. Trash sprinkled the ground and the air smelled of death. He glanced around quickly searching for the maker of the noise. His trained eyes landed on a shape in the corner. A hunched shadow.
He glanced behind him, at a run-down shack and then he made his way stealthily to the figure. He figured it was a person by the shape it took.
That nothing comes from violence
And nothing ever could
Hermione watched as one of monsters that dared to call themselves people walked to the end of the alley way. It stood there, directly in front of her, staring at the dead end wall. Her breath shook as it came out. She clasped her hand over her mouth, in fear that she would be heard.
The figure did not move, it just stared at the wall as Hermione stared at it. Suddenly, a pale hand struck out from the cloak. It grabbed the front Hermione's, clasping tightly. Hermione did not scream; she just shook with all the fear that could find no other way to vent itself.
For all those born beneath an angry star
Lest we forget how fragile we are
She was drawn towards the figure and from the dark recess of the hood she saw one thing she recognized. Grey eyes. They were masked by all that they had seen over the past four years, but they were still the same grey eyes. She didn't know if that was a reason to pray or a reason to curse her pathetic luck.
The eyes, she could tell grew confused. Another hand rose from the cloak and removed her hood, "Granger?"
Hermione nodded, unsure whether to do anything else.
"What are you doing here?"
"I was running from monsters like you," she whispered.
Draco nodded, releasing her cold, wet robe. "Why aren't you charming your cloak?"
Hermione shrugged, "I don't have the strength."
On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star
It was then Draco realized how tired her eyes really looked. "What's wrong with you?"
Hermione laughed softly, all that she could manage. She raised her arms, "Look around Malfoy. Can't you see what your kind has done to this land? You have ruined it!"
Draco looked around, "We may have, Hermione,"
"May?!" She snapped before he could finish. "I think you have." She choked and began to cough.
Draco watched as she doubled over from the coughs that racked her small form. He could tell the symptoms of the curse anywhere. He was the one who invented it. Tardus Nex (I don't know if that is exactly right. It's in Latin, but I translated it on the internet. I don't know Latin. It's supposed to mean: slow death. Boring title, right?)
Draco glanced back at the street, worried the other death eaters might hear her hacking.
She stood up straight, her Gryffindor pride shinning through after so long. "Leave me alone, Malfoy." She pushed past him.
Draco grabbed her robe once again, shoving her into the wall. "I was sent back here to kill you!" he snarled.
"Well, do it!" she snapped back.
He laughed, "You are already dying. I'll be surprised if you'll live to sun-up tomorrow."
Like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
Hermione eyes bored into his. With the last of her dwindling strength, she pushed him away and made a dash for the exit of the alley way.
Draco's breath caught; if they saw her she would be dead before dusk. He rushed after her. He broke into the street to find that the band of death eaters had wondered away, perhaps to feed on another helpless prey.
Hermione on the other hand, stumbled down the road.
How fragile we are
How fragile we are
Draco walked after her and spun her around, "You are an idiot."
"No, you are the idiot, Draco Malfoy. You could have helped preserve this world. You could have been great. You… could have been happy."
"How do you know I am not happy?"
"Because, you, even though you have your bad times, are not the type of person who enjoys killing."
His liquid-silver eyes met hers, "I am who I am, Hermione."
"You are who your father wanted you to be. Not who you are," she coughed again. Her hand came away from her mouth, splattered with blood. Quickly, she wiped it off on her robe so Draco wouldn't see.
But Draco had seen and he felt horrible for her. He loathed himself for ever creating such a spell.
On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star
"You were always strong, Malfoy. You just didn't use your head," she continued. "You could have stood up to him."
"If I thought I could I would have, but it is not your business to tell me what I should have done," his menacing tone was back.
"You're right, Draco. I shouldn't tell you how to live your life."
Like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
She looked up at him, a droplet of water tracing down her face. He couldn't tell whether it was rain or a tear. Her honey eyes locked with his, "But, I will tell you to enjoy it. It is brief. Just a flicker of forever." She smiled.
How fragile we are
Draco watched as she turned from him, making her way down the road. Her form huddled in on itself as if to keep the last remaining energy. This would probably be the last time he would see her. Ever.
That moment, that picture was seared into his mind forever. Hermione cloaked frame, surrounded by dying buildings and the lonely, fading sky. Darkness just befalling its edges.
He sighed.
How fragile we are
He turned from the image of her, making his way back to Voldemort's castle that he had erected at the beginning of his rise to power. All this had left him with one thought:
How fragile we are
Humans are fragile creatures. Made to be loved and cared for. Some can stand the beating, the mental breaking. But most suffer and eventually wilt. Our bodies were not made to withstand all pain. But we have one thing most animals do not. We have hope. The hope that tomorrow will be a better day, encasing in its sunlight a brighter future. A future where people fight for what they believe in. Not give up, because they think they are too fragile to win. If every body gave up, where would we be today? Besides, it is better to be brave and die valiantly than to die and never have tried.
How fragile we are…
Note: I was just taking a break from How did you fall in love? Which, by the way, if you have not read it, is also a Harry Potter. Draco and Hermione fic. It's a chapter story. I think it's good and would appreciate it if you would read it and review it. Speaking of reviews, why don't you click on that little button down there and drop a review.