Scared

"Me? I'm scared of everything. I'm scared of what I saw. I'm scared of what I did, who I am. I'm scared of walking out of this room and never feeling for the rest of my whole life, the way I feel when I'm with you." -Dirty Dancing

He could remember it like it was yesterday. Why wouldn't he remember it? It was the day he gave up everything without a second thought. He gave up the glorious life he had, the wonderful woman, and all her love. He threw it into the wind like it didn't matter, all for a man who didn't care if he lived.

Why hadn't he known it would happen like this when he accepted the offer? The offer for power, money? Why didn't he notice that no where in the deal was happiness, life, freedom?

Draco could still smell the smoke, the fire on the air as it whipped around his head. As he signed the contract that sold his soul away. He felt the mark burned into his skin like a ripping into the soul. Like a tearing of his heart.

And in that moment, when all reason returned, he could see her eyes. Bright, swirling chocolaty orbs. How sad they seemed, how depressed and let down. He blamed himself for their misery.

He could never look at her the same way; never stare into her smile thinking she knew. Never watch her eyes, wondering what knowledge they held. It all came down to this. It all came down to this very moment…

 He would have liked to ask for forgiveness. Beg for it. Staring into her sorrowful eyes, he wanted nothing more than to wrap himself in her scent of lavender and roses and whisk himself away on fake dreams and hopes lost. Why couldn't she accept him? Why couldn't she help him? Together they could find a way out of the mess he coiled himself in. Together they could do anything…

But, she just didn't want that. Did she not want to give him, give them the chance to make it? She said she couldn't live with someone who devoted their life to something like him. She couldn't live waiting up at night to wonder if he was okay. She couldn't take the chance to toss their children into such a life. Not with daddy killing and them coming home, hands stained with the invisible blood, but yet tucking them in and giving gentle kisses on their foreheads.

He couldn't let her go… That feeling, the one he got every time he looked into her eyes, watched her smile, brushed a kiss along her knuckles. Would he ever experience that again? Or would this be the only? The last? And he didn't savor it… he wasted it…

"Hermione… no, please don't. I'll go to Dumbledore. I'll talk to him about it. It was a simple mistake, all men prone to them."

Hermione turned around, and slowly, ever so slowly, she nodded her head. "Okay, you talk to Dumbledore and I'll stay."

Draco jumped to his feet, bringing her towards him in a passionate kiss, wrapping his arms around her waist. He had found his solid ground again and wouldn't ever come that close to loosing it again. He vowed to never hurt her ever.

"But, Draco, if I ever here that you go to those meetings I won't cast you a second glance. No matter how much I love you, I can't deal with that." She returned the kiss, burying her head into his shoulder.

Draco rested his chin on her head, staring out the window. No, he didn't need Voldemort to make him feel powerful or rich. Here in the arms of this woman, he had all he needed. And she…

She alone…

Made him feel like the richest man alive…