The dream is over; This is the morning. C.S Lewis

Chapter 13

A/N: I can't believe we've made it this far! I'm at number 13! It's so amazing.  But nothing amazes me more than the fact that people are actually reading this! I love you guys J  And I did make it to-and past- 100 reviews! But I want to get to 160 by chapter 18! You guys had better review K Or else! LOL! Really, though, I'm only going to update if I get 10 reviews from different people per chapter.  SO THERE. Hehehe! Enjoy, guys!

Hermione's POV

As soon as I shut the door on Malfoy's face, I fell onto my bed and cried myself to sleep.  I never can fall asleep during the day- usually the thought of homework hangs over me- but this was an exception.  I missed my last two classes with scarce recognition and didn't feel like getting up at all.   But I did, and when I opened my door he was standing there.  I knew my hair was tousled and my face was tear-stained and my nose was probably really red too.  He didn't seem to notice, though, strangely enough.  He didn't say anything.  He just looked at me in desperate hope and I hesitated before pushing past him to our kitchen.  He followed me there, still not speaking, and when I opened the pantry he stood next to me and cleared his throat.  I gave in and turned around, looking at him expectantly. 

"Hermione," he began.  "I am really, really, sorry.  And I thought that even if you hate me even more than before I should probably at least tell you what made me react so harshly."

"You don't have to tell me," I said in an emotionless voice, but I desperately wanted to know.

"I want to," he said softly.

His hand brushed against mine and I flinched, trying hard not to show any emotion.

He paused, taking a deep breath, and began.

Draco's POV

I told her everything, starting with the horrible memories I have of my Father to my most recent encounter with him.  She listened intently, but there was a cold, emotionless expression on her face.  When I was finished, I offered a weak, half-smile, but it was not returned.  She took a deep breath and looked me in the eye.

"I don't see how this changes anything," she said coldly, "Malfoy."

My mouth was slightly open in shock and disappointment.  I couldn't believe that she was going to do this – end whatever it was that we'd had – with barely an apologetic look in my direction.  I looked at her, memorising the honey-brown waves of her hair and the gold tinted eyes that I would find myself drowning in so often. 

And then she was gone. 

I was unsure of what to do with myself after that.  I found myself lounging on the sofa that had come with my room, numb.  Suddenly, of its own accord, my body made its way over to the chest of drawers in the corner.  I rummaged through the letters I had saved in the bottom drawer, unsure of what exactly I was looking for, when my hands closed over a piece of parchment folded to a tiny square.  The letter was creased as though it had been read and re-read hundreds of times.  I unfolded it and, withdrawing my breath quickly, I noticed my Mother's handwriting.  I remembered this letter: I had received it in first year and had secretly cherished it ever since, for it was the only letter Mother had ever sent me – or been allowed to send me.  She had simply written a short rhyme rather then a long letter, as I was accustomed to, but this poem meant more to me than any letter ever could have.

I let my eyes run over it again and again, following the elegant curls of her handwriting.  My fingers traced the parchment where her hand must have once touched and I inhaled deeply, smelling the perfume that she had always worn.

Draco

Look past the despair

You'll find something there

And

When your path is hard to see

I promise you can turn to me

Love always, Mother

Something wet shone on the parchment.  It took a few moments for me to work out that it was a tear and that I was crying.  I made no effort to wipe the tears away or muffle the sobs.  I shook with grief, my head in my hands.  I did not notice that the lamps had somehow turned off all by themselves, or that the fire had suddenly died out of its own accord.  The room was dark and empty and I noted absently that it looked similar to the way I felt so often now.  In fact, often was an understatement.  I felt this way virtually all the time.  I realized that the only times I hadn't felt this way was when I was with Hermione. 

This hardly made me feel any better.  I had lost Mother and I had lost Hermione.  What more was there?  My father, a murderer and a Death Eater?  Or Hogwarts, where I wallowed in my misery and despair, all alone?  I had nothing to live for any more.  I almost felt angry, but I knew now why Hermione had done it.  I was a mess and she didn't want to be around someone so depressing so she had simply stopped and left me alone, as she probably thought I wanted to be.  And now I was alone.  Completely.  Utterly. 

I found myself feeling drowsy and let my eyes close.  After all, I couldn't think of anything better to do. 

A/N: Yes, Yes, I know how short this was, but don't you think that was the best way to end it? I couldn't very well put anything else in here after poor Draco has drifted off to sleep.  I suppose I could have made him dream of bunnies and rainbows but it hardly suited the mood, did it? Yes, I think you'll agree.

REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!!!!  Seriously, I won't update until I have ten reviews.  I know my chapters are short but that's just the way I write.  Sorry guys!  I love you all soooo much!!

KellieBean xoxoxoxo.