Different Paths
By Cedar1
A/N Am sorry for the lack of updating over these past few mths, but have had sum really horrible exams and my computer broke down and i lost all my coursework as well as a few chapters I had typed for my stories. So am not a happy bunny!
But managed to "borrow" i.e. nick my sis's computer and type this. Its not a covential romance story, but the two characters do feature heavily in it and it's ultimately about Draco coming to terms with the life he has chosen. Again I just jump into a situation, so there will be some holes in the plot. But I hope it all makes sense and you enjoy it!
Warning: Bit of swearing, hopefully nothing that will exceed the PG13 rating.
Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns the beautiful universe of Harry Potter and Evanescence for inspiration and lyrics. As 4 me, I think the plots mine?
Hello
'Playground school bell rings again'
The bells rang out from the various battle stations, signalling the end of yet another bloody day of intense fighting. Wizards across the muddy land sheathed their wands and wandered as if in a daze back to their respective camps. Their hands, although invisible to the naked eye, were tainted red by the blood from their victims, their enemies. It was curious this daily ritual; suddenly stopping mid -spell, mid-kill, respecting the rules that official war would take place at only certain times of the day. So civilised, and yet at complete odds with the actions that brought about the litter of bodies that lay strewn motionless on the ground. The players would respectfully bypass their dead colleagues, their eyes looking any where but down, hoping it was not a friend or an aquantaince that lay at their feet. But it was coming to the stage when everybody was a friend, the war had gone on for so long that names eventually went with faces, and recognition of those dead inevitable.
'Rain clouds come to play again'
The tears that streaked down their faces were made insignificant as the heavy rain came upon them once more, the wet, fat droplets putting their own tears to shame. It had been raining every night for the last two months without fail. Streams stained with crimson red criss crossed the ground, effectively washing away the lives of the dead. And as they walked back, some outstretched their arms in front of them, praying that the rain would wash away their sins of the day.
The field was nearly empty. Gone were the battle cries and the shrieking curses, silence blanketed the land, except for a patch just to the side of the forbidden forest where two figures could be found. One on the floor, the other kneeling by the side.
*****************************************************
Draco wound his fingers round the tangles of her knotted hair, the course strands cutting into his fine flesh. He was straddling her now, practically sitting on her flat stomach. His hands that cradled her head, brought it closer to his own.
"Granger."
"Granger."
"Granger."
Each time the word slipped from his chapped lips, the more the emotion of desperation leaked into his voice.
'Has no one told you she's not breathing?'
"For fucks sake Granger, speak to me!" he pleaded once more. But to no avail, her eyes remained expressionless and glassy, their gaze unchanging. Her skin was beginning to take on an unnatural shade of blue, the previous redness of her cheeks succumbing to the death that crept over them. He dragged one hand down to her neck, trembling fingers anxious to feel a flutter of a pulse. He pressed harder against the skin of her neck, the flesh turning white with the pressure, desperate to feel something, anything.
How could she be dead?
How could he have killed her?
***********************************************
They had found him lying next to her body, his face buried in the crook of her neck, his hands wrapped possessively around her stiff torso. At first they had failed to recognise him as one of their own, the mud coating his hair hiding the most obvious sign of a Malfoy descendent. But on further inspection they had realised who it was, and after the initial shock of finding such a man, in such a position, reported the situation to their superiors.
It had taken three grown men and a lot of effort to pry his fingers from their hold. He had shouted at them, swearing that he would kill them if they did not leave him alone. But they had their orders and as so were deaf to his threats.
***********************************************
Draco wasn't sure when he had been moved from the wet earth to the cosy bedding of his tent. Nor did he care.
She occupied all the chambers of his brain, every nook and cranny, there was no room for anything else. Her appearance changed regularly, memories flashing through his brain, disregarding any chronological order as she grew from a girl to an adult, spiralled from a young woman to a teenager. Sometimes she was pictured in front of the backdrop of the great hall and others with her back pressed up against the tree, her eyes screaming with fear. It was this last image that he wanted to get rid off, wanted to ignore. He hadn't wanted that to be the last time they would ever meet. However his subconciousness refused to give into his demands, as that was the picture that stuck in his head, replicating itself on every one of his brain cells.
Never letting him forget.
And so she was there, ever present, staring at him throughout the night. Not letting him sleep, her features frozen in that expression of terror. Rushes of guilt and sickness would travel with the blood of his veins, reaching his heart, poisoning it with the intense emotion they carried. He would squeeze his eyes shut, begging that he would be forgiven and she would leave him alone. But she was as stubborn in death as she was in life, and persisted in his torture..
It was in the middle of one of these sleepless nights that she spoke to him. It was almost as if she was there next to him, curled up by his side, whispering in his ear. He could feel her breath stroke the shell of his outer ear, her hair tickling his cheek as she bent her head to speak.
"Draco."
She called him by his first name, that was the first and only indication he needed to know that she wasn't real; that it was purely his mind conjuring up her image and her words, either to torment him further, or to cure him.
'Hello I'm your mind giving you
Someone to talk to'
Even with this knowledge he answered her call.
"Hermione," he whispered in the confines of his tent, the wind that blew outside lengthening her name in the atmosphere.
He could imagine the smile that tilted her lips as he called her by her first name. A blush rising from the centre of her cheeks as his voice added a touch of longing and desire to her name.
"Draco."
'Hello'
They talked throughout the night, touching on old memories, past arguments. He confessed that she intrigued him that he found himself thinking of her when he shouldn't have been. She asked him whether he loved her and he replied with a definite 'no.' The traditions and lessons that marked his childhood and background could not be that easily overthrown and loving a mudblood was beyond his capability. But she was always in the back of his mind, occupying several forbidden thoughts. She couldn't help the smug look that graced her features from surfacing when he had said the word 'forbidden,' her eyebrows raised questioningly. It was his turn to look bashful as he began to tell her of his desire to touch her, to feel her skin beneath his fingers, to taste her lips and the mouth that lay hidden behind them.
"Why? If you didn't love me."
It had taken him a few seconds to think of an adequate reply, as he tried to filter and process the jumble of feelings that she sparked within him.
"I don't know why exactly. But you could always light emotions in me so easily. Emotions that I hardly felt. Those that found my heart pumping so hard that I thought it would burst, those that would cause the blood beneath my skin to boil. My life had always been filled with such coldness, it was governed by etiquette and custom, driven by ambition and the need for power. There was no room for passion and lust, there was no warmth. That was until you would come along and fill my world with heat. I suppose thats what it was, I wanted to feel that kind of heat next to me, filling me up, melting the ice that had formed within me."
The words that spilled from his mouth surprised her, as well as himself. It was the first time he had actually made sense of his attitude towards her and in truth it scared him.
"Do you want to know what it feels like?"
His mind elsewhere, he was slightly confused by her question. He was about to ask her what she meant when he felt a gentle pressure being applied to his lips. The roughness of her wet tongue stroked them, asking for permission to delve further into his soul. And he granted it, opening his mouth allowing her tongue to caress his own. Her hands wandered down to his chest, fingers playing with the buttons of his top, popping them off one by one, revealing bare flesh which was the next territory explored by her nimble hands. She broke from their kiss, but was not parted from him for long as she made her way instead to his neck, licking and biting the tender skin. He was finally able to know what it was like to be consumed by heat, and a smile of contentment rested on his face.
'If I smile and don't believe'
He didn't want to believe that she was dead and that he would never have the chance to feel what he was feeling right now again.
However he knew deep down inside that this was not happening, that in reality she was just a corpse, and was stone cold.
'Soon I know I'll wake from this dream'
His hands grasped her shoulders and he pushed her away from him. Her lips were throbbing with a vibrant red that had been the result of their actions. Her eyes widened in confusion, the brown orbs puzzled by his sudden outburst.
"What's wrong?" Two slim fingers moved to brush strands of blonde hair that had strayed over his eye. Annoyed by her tenderness and want to help him, he slapped her hand away from his face.
Anger flashed across her delicate features, "What are you doing?" Her voice had lost its gentle quality, and instead the tone was harsh and demanding.
"Why are you doing this? You hate me! Stop trying to be nice to me! What the fuck am I talking about you're not even real, you're just a figment of my imagination."
'Don't try to fix me I'm not broken'
Draco stared up at woman crouched above him, and as if highlighting his point he began to see subtle indespcrepancies in the Hermione his mind had created and the one that had actually existed. The face in front of him was slimmer, the nose sharper, and the hair silkier. He had created an illusion. But the slightly unnerving thing were the eyes. They were identical to the real ones, not a shade of brown was missing or altered in their depths.
"You're right I'm not really alive." She smiled sweetly at him. A sweetness that would surely be followed by a sour hitting taste. A hand placed on either side of his head, she brought herself closer to him.
"Do you remember why?" She dared him to answer.
"It was you. You who pointed your wand at my beating heart." One small hand encased one of his larger ones and held it against her chest.
"You that spoke 'Avada Kedavra'." She guided his hand up to his lips.
"You that watched me fall to the floor"
Draco's heart was beginning to pound hard once again as surges of that familiar feeling of guilt crashed within him. Like a naughty school boy he came up with any excuses that formed in his mind. Anything to push the blame from himself.
"But I didn't know it was you, you're hood covered you're face. By the time I knew it was you, it was too late."
But she shook her head at his pathetic attempt. "Would it have really mattered?"
Draco said nothing. He didn't know the answer.
"That's why I'm here now, at your will. Giving you something you have never and will never have; happiness, contentment, warmth. You think that conjuring me up, imagining my lips on yours will cure you? Don't be so naive. Don't try and hide from the truth........
'Hello I'm the lie living for you so you can hide'
........You were a cold, heartless boy who has grown up to be a cold, heartless man. There's nothing in there." She placed a finger on the left side of his chest, pointing straight through to his heart.
"And that guilt you feel for my death is not really about me. It's about you. Its always been about you. You're finally beginning to realise who you are, who you've become, and it scares you. Killing one of the only things that gave you any feelings akin to love, passion; you've sealed your fate. There will only be coldness in your life Malfoy. Harsh, sharp, unfeeling............empty."
Each of her words pierced through the cool exterior he had created for himself through the years. Her sentiments slashing through the barrier, bringing it down to a useless pool of pride and self-control at his feet. Free from constraint he finally allowed himself to give in, to let everything out.
She watched as crystal clear tears left their streaky wet trails on his porcelain features. She traced the streams with a finger, the tip soaking up the moisture. He felt her alter her position above him. She was by his side now, no longer covering his body with her own. She planted one final kiss on his cheek...
'Don't cry'
"Don't cry Draco. You made your choice. There's nothing you can do now."
And with that she was gone; reduced to a breeze in the wind that slipped out of the tent through a crack in the flaps.
Draco was once again alone. His tears subsiding, the remnants of those that had past crystallising as his cool nature began to form once more. She was right, he was dreaming if he believed a few fantasies could alter the man that he was. This was reality. This was the life he had elected for himself.
'Suddenly I know I'm not sleeping'
****************************************************
The clash of the bells vibrated through the still air of the battle ground. The weary wizards emerged from their respective tents, their eyes blurry from the last vestiges of sleep that dulled their minds. But it would not last long. It could not if they were to survive through this day. However there was one who did not share their tiredness.
Draco Malfoy stared at himself in the mirror. The granite eyes reflected back at him radiated with determination, any warmth which may have lingered in their grey pools long gone. Hermione may have been dead, but he was still here.
'Hello I'm still here'
He had chosen his path, and he was going to be great. He raised the hood of his black robe over his head and strode out of his quarters.
The day had marked the defeat of the light side and the fall into the abyss of darkness. And in the midst of the shadows stood a figure, with pale hair and even paler skin. All around him his peers collapsed to their knees, their heads bent in respect.
'All thats left of yesterday'
************************Fini**************************
if uve read till the end cud u do me a massive favour and review please! ta ducks!
A/N am seriously not sure on this one, its quite short and i don't know if there is actually any point to it.Just to clarify Hermione is dead and its all just a figment of his imagination. Does it make sense? Please review and let me know what u think. Thanx!
Bear hugs to those who reviewed last time: Spaced Out Space Cadet, Shadowsong11, hello!, Harshipper,