Part Two
He looked horrible. The guard had hit him twice and the back of his chair was covered in blood. His lip was bleeding and he had a black eye. This wasn't how I wanted to remember him. The guard asked him if he had any last words. He said he did. Somehow I knew they were meant for me. I sat up straighter and caught his gaze.
"I've made a lot of bad choices in my life," he said, and paused slightly. A lot of people murmured in agreement. "My worst choice was that night in the library. Maybe if I hadn't made that choice, said those things, then things would have turned out differently and I wouldn't be here, you wouldn't be here. I'm sorry that I hurt you; it's something that I have to live with everyday. I wish I could take away all the pain that I put you through. I'm not perfect; I've done a lot of things I'm not proud of. The worse thing was hurting you. I'm so sorry, but I'm not afraid to go." He stopped and was finished speaking. I squeezed Ginny's hand and kept my gaze trained on him.
I love you, I mouthed at him. I was relieved to see him smile. That was how I wanted to remember him. The Dementor's mouth closed over his and I screamed, unable to contain myself. I couldn't believe that I was sitting there, watching it happen. I couldn't believe that Draco was going to be no more, that he apologized too late, that I could have stopped all of this from happening. I dropped Ginny's hand and ran from the room.
"Hermione!" she called and followed after me. There was a cheering as the Dementor finished his job and Draco sat, still and soulless. I stopped at the doorway and looked back. The entire Weasley family, minus Ginny, was giving the Dementor a standing ovation. Is this what its come to? I asked myself, appalled at my second family's reaction, cheering one of the foulest creatures on earth just after it took the soul of a man? Ginny caught up to me and turned to look at her family. Her features were softened when she looked back.
"You've got to understand, Hermione. The Malfoys have always been our biggest enemies. They never quite forgave him for hurting either of us. No matter how much we told them we were okay, I would pass by their doors late at night and hear them talking about killing him. They wouldn't, of course, but they still liked to plan," she said, laying a hand on my arm. Tears ran down my cheeks.
"But to cheer them. Do they realize they were cheering Dementors? The same foul creatures that guarded the prison when your dad was there? The same things that tried to kill Harry, Sirius, and me in my third year? The same creatures that have been in league with Voldemort in the past?" I asked, my confusion and sorrow turning into anger.
"Hermione…" Ginny starting in what should have been a soothing voice, but I cut her off.
"THEY ARE CHEERING BECAUSE THE ONLY MAN I HAVE EVER LOVED HAD HIS SOUL SUCKED OUT!" I screamed at the top of my lungs and ran down the corridor and out of the building. I vaguely heard Ginny calling after me, but I ignored her.
It was pouring rain when I got outside. I didn't mind; I always loved rain. I stood outside the door and let the rain soak me. The door opened behind me and I was engulfed in a hug.
"Look, Hermione, I know that this is really hard for you, but he was really foul, you know?" Harry said with his usual tact. I pulled away from him and glared at him.
"Can we not talk about it?" I snapped irritably. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
"I was just trying to help," he said. My tears started again as he unconsciously echoed something Draco had said to me before we started dating. I had been sitting in the library, struggling on a particularly nasty essay for Snape, when he sauntered in and sat at my table.
"What do you want, Malfoy?" I asked, warily. He had broken up with Ginny the day before, and I didn't know why he was still hanging around. He just flashed me a grin, which made me even more suspicious, and sat down next to me.
"What are you working on?" he asked, pulling my essay away from me. "Ah, Snape's essay. Quite easy, really." He slid it back to me. I glared at him.
"What do you want?" I asked again, more icily this time. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. His nice silky hair, mussing it up and making him look more human.
"Look, I was just trying to help, but apparently you don't want it, so I'm just wasting my time," he said, irritated. He left the library before I could say anything.
After a few of those occurrences, I stopped scaring him away and began to enjoy his company. Before I knew it we were dating, and I loved him. Then the incident in the Library occurred, and I fell into a slight depression. I spent all of my time studying, pulling away from all my friends. Ginny finally helped me get through it all.
"Hermione, I need to ask you something," Ginny said, barging into my room without knocking. I was too tired to glare so I just looked up at her and raised an eyebrow.
"Who broke your heart, Malfoy or your friends?" she asked, sitting down on the bed that was across from the desk I was sitting at. My jaw dropped slightly and stayed there for a moment before I could answer her.
"Malfoy. You know that," I said icily, glaring at her. I didn't like to be reminded of him. She ignored my glare and got off the bed to walk closer to me.
"Then start acting like it was him and not us. Stop ignoring us and being rude," she said and left before I could say anything.
I spun away from Harry and walked down the street, my pace hurried and my eyes stinging with tears.
"Hermione!" he called after me. I gave him the finger and stepped into the nearest shop to use the Floo to go back to my apartment.
The first thing I noticed when I got to my apartment was a crazed owl that was trying to get the window to open on its own. I opened the window and the owl flew haphazardly into the room and crazed into the table.
"Oh, you poor dear!" I whispered softly. I took the soggy letter from its beak and carried it over to the owl perch that I kept for Hedwig to stay when she was delivering a letter to me. I picked up the envelope. The front held no address, just Hermione, written in a flowing script that I recognized at once. It was Draco's. I sat down at the table and opened the envelope. A letter, which had obviously been spelled to stay dry, fell out. I picked it up and read.
Hermione,
I'm gone by now. I hope you came to the ceremony; there was so much I needed to say, needed you to hear me say. I did take precautions in case you didn't go, or in case you didn't understand. That's why you're receiving this letter, even if you've just come back from the ceremony.
I'm sorry you had to see it. I'm sure the guards treated me like shite. They do on a daily basis, and they won't miss an opportunity to abuse a Malfoy in public. In spite of war, of death, and of Voldemort, a name still means so much. It's funny, isn't it, that something as unimportant-seeming as a name can mean so much. I wish it didn't, and then maybe we wouldn't have gotten into all this mess.
When I was younger, my father would drill it into my head what it meant to be a Malfoy. I used to search the libraries at the Manor to find The Official Guide to Being a Malfoy. I suppose I wanted to memorize the book and impress my father by not needing any more lectures. I never asked him about the book, though. If there was one thing Lucius Malfoy hated, it was questions. I learned that at a very young age.
When I went to Hogwarts, it had been drilled in my mind that I was superior to everyone there, even, and especially, Dumbledore. It wasn't until I started dating Ginny, and then you, that I realized how wrong father was. But that didn't stop me from following in his footsteps, did it?
I suppose you're wondering why I did it, got the Mark, that is. I was weak. I loved you- I still do- but that couldn't stop me from joining. I still feared my father back then, and if he wanted it, I would do it. It wasn't until after I had gotten the Mark that I saw how my father feared Voldemort. My father, the very one that taught me to fear no one, except for himself, was scared of this pathetic half man- half monster. My father lost all my fear, but I couldn't back out.
Once we had that fight in the library, I just knew it was all over. I didn't care what I did any more; I didn't care what people thought of me. I had hurt the one person I cared about, and I wasn't going to have a second chance. I didn't even try to redeem myself, did I? Perhaps I should have; then I wouldn't have such a guilty conscience. But there's no use for "what if's" and all that nonsense.
I'm not afraid to go. Instead, I'm rather glad I am. I'm glad I'm receiving the Kiss instead of a lifetime in Azkaban. If they truly wanted me to suffer, they would have chosen that. I'm guilty of every charge laid against me, and probably more. I did what Voldemort asked without any questions. I even reveled in it sometimes, I'm sorry to say. I would take out my anger about you, me, and the situation on the poor innocents. I never killed children or a woman that was with child. Any time I would turn my wand to one, I would think, that could be your child or that could be Hermione carrying your child. I couldn't ever bring myself to kill them.
A lifetime in Azkaban would be hell. The Dementors around would make me relive my all-time lows, something I've been doing for the past month. They've given me a bit of sanity, allowing me to write my final good-bye in a room devoid of the presence of a Dementor. There's just a guard standing by the doorway. I suppose they'll read it before they send it, but I rather hope they don't. I might have loved, and still love, you, but I don't want to be seen as weak.
Time's running out. Cliché as it might be, I wish time could stop
and it could just be us. But it hasn't stopped for the greatest lovers before
us, and so it won't stop for us. C'est la vive. The guard is
telling me I only have a moment. There's only a moment before they prepare me
for the Kiss, only a moment of sanity, of life, left. And I can't spend it with
you.
Please, remember the good times, but never forget the bad ones. It's time. I'll
be waiting for you.
Draco
I read it through three times before I could set it down. There was a knock on my door. I put the letter down on the table and opened the door while wiping my eyes. Harry was standing in the doorway looking very repentant.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled and hugged me. I hugged him back, resting my cheek on his shoulder. We stood for a while before I pulled away from him.
"I'm going to change into dry clothes. Go ahead and make yourself at home," I said and headed for my bedroom.
"What are you talking about? This is home…home away from home, of course, but still home," he called after me. I smiled slightly and the bedroom door behind me. I opened my wardrobe and chose a thick burgundy sweater and jeans. I pulled my wet hair into a bun and washed my face. When I went back into the room, Harry was sitting at the table, reading my letter. I snatched it out of his hands.
"Is there no privacy?" I snapped at him.
"I'm sorry. It was sitting on the table, and I was getting bored, so I looked to see whom it was from…and my curiosity got the best of me," he said, not looking ashamed at being caught. I glared at him.
"Curiosity killed the cat," I said icily. He gave me a strange look. I sighed. "What is it now?"
"You sound like him. He would have said that exact thing, in that exact tone. I think he rubbed off on you a little too much, Hermione," he said, still wearing that strange look. I continued to glare at him but didn't speak. Instead, I entered the kitchen and started to make tea for the two of us.
"Look, Hermione, I hate him. I always have, I always will, but I am sorry you're feeling badly about all of this," he said, coming up behind me and resting a comforting hand on my shoulder. I sniffled. Tears threatened to fall, but I wouldn't let them.
"I know, but no one seems to just let me be sad, not even Ginny. I just want to miss him properly like I would anyone else without people saying how glad he or she is that he's gone and stuff. It's just not right," I whispered, pouring tea into the two cups. He hugged briefly, and then opened his mouth to speak. I put my finger to his lips and said "Shhh. don't, please?" He closed his mouth and nodded, hugging me again. I smiled slightly and leaned into the hug. It was going to take a lot to get over Draco, but this was a good start, a very good start indeed.
Disclaimer: nothing belongs to me; it all belongs to the wonderful J.K. Rowling.
Author's Note: And so the story ends. I didn't mean to make it seem like Harry was hitting on Hermione or anything, but it kinda seemed that way to me. *Shrugs* the story writes itself; the author is merely there to put the words onto paper. Or computer, in my case. Thanks so much to the two reviewers I had. It really meant a lot to me. To my first reviewer, I know that the Kiss only sucks the soul…I mean to mention in my author's note of the first chapter that he was saying die because to him, it was dying. I suppose. Oh, who knows how my madness works. I sure don't. Anyway, this is going un beta'ed, so ignore all mistakes.
