In the Cold Cold Night
By Cedar1
Disclaimer: usual am afraid to report. JK Rowling 4 characters and the fab White Stripes for lyrics and inspiration.
A/N thank you thesexyflower, Forever Dracula's Bride, thalion, mesmer and lucy for reviewing
You guys are all stars!
okay am now just over half way thru. Only 2 more chapters to go after this one, so ure running out of chances to review hint hint so its probably best if u do one 4 this one as well (subtle. no?)
Thanx to jewel 4 bein amazing and betaing
In the Cold Cold Night
I can't stand it any longer
I need the fuel to make my fire bright
So don't fight it any longer
Come to me again
In the cold, cold night
In the cold, cold night
Chapter 4: So don't fight it any longer
Her cold fingers gripped the frayed material as she tried to wrap the tattered shawl tighter around her body, but the bitter chill was still able to penetrate through the wool and bite the flesh of her body. She had been stamping her feet on the ground so much that her footprints were clearly out lined in the mud. Anything to stop the cold from freezing her insides.
Where the hell was he?
She was angry. No, she was livid. That night had been perfect. A time when all the shit that had happened in her life had vanquished into a world where it didn't matter, where it was all forgotten. That night hadn't just been sex; it had been- to coin a phrase, which she had always thought was the epitome of cliché- 'making love.' She remembered everything. From the way his fingers would tease the skin of her neck to the way his lips felt on the curve of her hip as he had kissed his way down her body. Every part of her had felt alive in his arms, the tips of her toes, the hair on her head, even her damaged heart. He had done that. The feeling that reached through her, wrenching out all the sadness and despair that lay within, replacing it with the heat of love and hope. And it wasn't just the sex that had made it so special, so wondrous.
They had slept together, not just in the biblical sense but also in each other's arms. Her head had lain on his chest, her arm draped over his stomach, while his own had wrapped itself possessively around her waist. She had felt so safe, so far away from the war, from death. Sleep had come to her easy that night. His smell and his fingers running through her hair coaxed her into sweet darkness and dreams.
Then she had woken, and he was gone. No note. No flower. No sign that he had ever been there, that it had ever happened.
It had been two weeks since then. Two weeks and no visits. Not even a word had past between them. There were times that she thought she had made a mistake. That she had pushed herself into believing something that never could be; that never existed. The idea that they could love each other would seem preposterous in her head. A Malfoy and a Mudbood! What the fuck was she thinking?
But hadn't he whispered he loved her in her ear as he had entered her?
Hadn't she screamed it back to him when they had climaxed?
No, it had been real. All of it: the words, the feelings. He was just scared. And it had angered her. What kind of man was he? Running away from the only light that lit their dull lives. He was pathetic. He was gutless. He was weak. She had been furious enough to partake in his game of denial for a week. Stubborn in her belief that he would have to grow up, and that she wasn't going to baby him and tell him it would all work out in the end. It wouldn't. Their future together wasn't going to be one of sweet smelling roses and heart shaped chocolates. But there was a future and they were meant to be together and Hermione wasn't going to help him figure that out.
Then she remembered what that attitude had led to between her and Ron. Nothing. A big fat hole of emptiness. She had put a stopper in one relationship, and she wasn't going to ruin another. She wouldn't stand around and waste another round of years pining for a life that she herself had prevented by her stubborn and mulish attitude. He had filled her with something that she had thought she would never feel again. That she thought she had lost. That she now missed so much it hurt to think about it.
'I can't stand it any longer'
Now that she had had it, she didn't want to let it go. She felt empty without it. How many times had she used that word to describe the feeling inside her? Several? Hundreds? But she couldn't think of a better one. She felt like there was nothing in there. Just air. Useless, unfeeling air that swept through her diluting any thing that was left in her. She was just a body. Getting up. Fighting. Going to bed. She went through the motions like every one else, but there was nothing driving her except the ingrained programme that told her she had to keep going. She felt like a robot. Cold. She couldn't stay like this. She needed it.
She needed love.
'I need the fuel to make my fire bright'
When she was with him there was a voice within her telling her to keep fighting, to keep going on. And it wasn't just a sentence on continuous loop. It was an order that screamed at her, telling her that there was something worth fighting for, that there would be something waiting for her at the end of it all. And she knew he felt the same thing. He heard that same voice, but he was ignoring it, trying to block out its words.
'So don't fight it any longer'
Fuck it! She wasn't going to stand outside his house any more like some love- sick schoolgirl. If he wasn't going to come to her, well, she was damn well going to go to him.
'Come to me again'
Her legs kicked into action, her feet pounding on the ground as began to run to any place she could think of. The borders, the mess, the squalid tents that called themselves bathrooms, she would find him no matter how long it took. As the wind whipped her hair into a tangled mess and cut through the skin of her cheeks she began to realise what was holding him back, for it was the same thing that had had her crying in a mess on the floor.
Ghosts.
People haunting them, whispering in their heads, telling them what they should do, what they should feel, making sure that they would not forget them.
Ron's memory had done that to her, twisting the thoughts in her head, making her feel guilty for wanting something he would not have been happy with it.
But the truth was, they were the ones that were alive. They should be living the lives they want.
Her lungs were burning and her legs were beginning to ache with the lactic acid that was tightening her muscles. But she still kept running. Determination kept her from collapsing and giving up.
Giving up was the easy way out.
The option that got you nowhere.
'In the cold, cold night
In the cold, cold night'
A/N short chapter I know, but the next one is the climax and I'll be spending more time on Draco's point of review.
So please REVIEW and make this rather poor student v. happy! And u never know I won't leave a quillion weeks b4 I update!
