Watching Her
A/N: this is a fanfic written in Draco Malfoy's POV.
He watched her. He'd always been watching her, since forever.
He watched her from when she first put on the old, cratty, sorting hat and as she proudly walked to the Gryfindor table, oh how he wanted her to be with him.
He watch her when she be-friended The-Boy-Who-Lived and that Weasel.
He watched as she walked off with the giant Hagrid and Weasel as they searched for the unicorn in their first year.
He watched as she left to go with her muggle parents at platform 9 ¾.
Over the summer holidays, he yearned to see her, but never did.
Second year came, he watched her. That year passed, and yet again over the summer his desire for her grew.
Third year came and went, and he still watched and wondered when he might have the strength to over come his Malfoy instinct to insult those who are not pureblood. Then maybe he might be able to ask for her forgiveness and tell her his feelings.
But he couldn't, and so he suffered another lonely year.
Forth year. That damn Victor Krum. The Yule Ball, if only he could have just asked her, it would have been him that was holding her hand, not that stupid, damn, Krum! Just because he was so famous didn't mean that he could just waltz in and take over her.
Fifth year came. Nothing happened between him and Hermione. He just didn't know how to get to her. And that damn Weasel. That damn red-headed Ron Weasly! He was getting way too close to her! Draco felt like smashing him.
Sixth year. That Golden Boy had started dating Weasel's sister, Ginny. That Weasel had started dating my love. I loath him. Oh how I hate him!
Summer holidays. His father told him of the news of how he was to become a death eater. Instead, out of anger (towards his father) and love (for Hermione), he plucked up the strength and power to pull off the most deadly unforgivable curse with his father's wand. No witnesses, which was good. Draco's mother got home, saw Draco crying, "What's wrong she asked?" "Look! Look! Look at Father!!" Draco yelled in anguish tears. His mother owled the ministry, the ministry officials apparated instantly.
Draco had done it, he couldn't wait til school started again. Without his father overlooking all his actions anymore, he wouldn't have to live with the guilt that he loves a non-pureblood.
Seventh year. Draco caught Hermione after the sorting ceremony feast, just before she began on her way to the Gryfindor common-rooms.
"Hermione, I love you. I always have."
She slapped him and ran off searching for her boyfreind.
Draco cried that night and that whole month at night in his bed.
Graduation ball. Weasel proposed to Hermione. Everyone cheered. Golden Boy held his girl, Ginny in his arms lovingly, wide grin on his face expressing his happiness for hisbest friends. Hermione accepted.
Draco ran out of the Great Hall. Tears escaped from his eyes. Too soon for his liking. He hadn't even reached to door before the tears came. But that was just how it was. He was miserable. Suicidal.
He killed his father for nothing. Denounced evil for nothing. Seven years for nothing. He was worth nothing. Unwanted. Unloved. And alone.
Next morning, students were ready to exit the school grounds and rush towards Hogsmead station ready to board the Hogwarts Express. But not before the whole school heard Pansy cry. She cried and wailed even louder if anyone tried to comfort her.
An old man with a very long silver beard entered the Slytherin boys dormitory, closely followed by a greasy-haired professor with billowing robes.
"What has happened?" inquired Dumbledore, who was looking down gravely at the bloodied body.
"Professor," said Crabbe "Look at this note. It was found in the Slytherin common-room." He handed the old Head Master the folded note.
Inside, written neatly in red was:
Dear Hermione,
I told you I loved you. And I did, and still do. I loved you with all my heart, and you rejected me. You were my life, I longed to see you look in my eyes and tell me that too. I yearned to hold you in my arms like Weasley held you. But no. You wouldn't have it.
So here I am, writing in my own blood, just to tell you, I died for love.
I died for you.
Love you Hermione, Draco Malfoy.
A/N: well that was it. It was just a fleeting idea and I thought that I might put it on paper, well actually not paper but on the computer. Well I hope you liked it. if not tell me so. Tell me how I can become a better writer if you think I need improving, I wont disagree with you if you think so.
But anyway, please review.