Summary: Written from Draco's point of view after his romance with Hermione
and how his father killed her when he found out. One shot short fic.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, just the plot. Please don't sue me.
No Longer Love By SilentGoldenEyes
Salty tears run down my face. I can taste them on my cracked lips, feel them rolling down my cheeks. Tears that have not stopped for seven weeks. Seven weeks of pure torture at the hands of my father, because I dared defy him. Dared to love.
For the last seven weeks I have sat here and cried. The stone wall digs into my back, but I haven't shifted my place. I am starved, yet I cannot eat. Bruises throb incessantly, and cuts scab over. My hands shake with fury, and my heart burns with anguish. And love. My heart burns with love. My mind is full of thoughts of her. Of our time together. Of our final moments. Of her torture, her pain. She died for me. Died for love.
I don't know why, nor can I explain it. I don't understand how after years of hatred of her and her type was drilled into me, I did what I did. I am not a person taught to love. I was taught to hate. And yet love is what races through my veins, through my thoughts. Even now.
She haunts my sleep and my waking hours. Her voice has reduced me to this. It has led me to a life one would never expect for the likes of me. I am no longer sane. No longer me. No longer anyone.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, just the plot. Please don't sue me.
No Longer Love By SilentGoldenEyes
Salty tears run down my face. I can taste them on my cracked lips, feel them rolling down my cheeks. Tears that have not stopped for seven weeks. Seven weeks of pure torture at the hands of my father, because I dared defy him. Dared to love.
For the last seven weeks I have sat here and cried. The stone wall digs into my back, but I haven't shifted my place. I am starved, yet I cannot eat. Bruises throb incessantly, and cuts scab over. My hands shake with fury, and my heart burns with anguish. And love. My heart burns with love. My mind is full of thoughts of her. Of our time together. Of our final moments. Of her torture, her pain. She died for me. Died for love.
I don't know why, nor can I explain it. I don't understand how after years of hatred of her and her type was drilled into me, I did what I did. I am not a person taught to love. I was taught to hate. And yet love is what races through my veins, through my thoughts. Even now.
She haunts my sleep and my waking hours. Her voice has reduced me to this. It has led me to a life one would never expect for the likes of me. I am no longer sane. No longer me. No longer anyone.