She ran. She ran faster and harder than she had ever ran in her entire life.
Hermione was scared. Scared of what could happen…scared of what she may become if she fails…scared of what she would be if she triumphed…
But…she was mostly scared of her feelings.
Moon…her best friend…just told her he loved her. She knew something was the matter, but…
She didn't know that it was this strong of a feeling that was troubling him.
Love…that simple three letter word changes people's lives every second of every day. Your true love could tell you he loved you and, faster than you can blink, you are a married couple. The one you've been chasing after for months on end finally gives in and tells you he loves you. Most of the time, they're just being nice, but it means the world to you.
But there are instances where you are about to embark on a dangerous mission and your best friend leaves a note on your desk saying he loves you.
There was no real trouble with him telling her that he loved her. There was just one tiny little problem that made this whole thing skyrocket to the ground.
She didn't love him back.
It was not as though she didn't love him as a friend…she just wasn't interested in him romantically.
Hermione's legs began to cramp up, but she kept running. Her thoughts kept her going.
Who was this all-powerful Serpent Tongue? He seemed so familiar and yet…he didn't.
For some reason or another, the person she kept referring him to was a silver-blond boy at Hogwarts whom everyone hated.
'But it couldn't be him,' She thought to herself. 'He was shorter…his hair wasn't so long…and he never had such a stern look upon his face…'
She began to trip slightly, but nothing stopped her onward progress. In fact, she had been running for so long…
She forgot why she even started.
Those thoughts now kept her legs moving in their forward motion. Why did she even start running? Was she so scared of what she had told Moon just before she left?
Was she so terrified of what was to come?
Hermione was a little scared of actually killing a man. She had never killed someone in her life…but they expected her to kill this man.
She didn't want to kill him.
She didn't want anything to do with him, if it came to that.
He ran. His feet slapped against the ground so hard, pain shot up his leg in sharp spurts. But he didn't care. All he cared about was getting as far away from that graveyard as possible.
Draco hated it there. No matter how much he told himself it would get better, it never did. And now his best friend wanted power.
He wasn't going back.
He never wanted to go there in the first place.
It was the only life that he saw for about a hundred miles the night he ran away from home.
His breath was heavy in his chest, but he kept running. In fact, if he died right here right now…he wouldn't care.
Nothing mattered to him anymore.
The moment he lost the girl he thought he loved was the moment when everything ended in his life.
She was so beautiful…her hair was just perfect…the way it fell upon her shoulders in such a way that made an angel's hair look horribly ugly. Her eyes…so open, so alive…
To Draco, Kate was going to be the one. She was the one who made him laugh…made him cry…made him wish he was with her every single moment of every single day.
But the moment she told him she had to go back to America…his life came to a crashing halt.
He lost the girl he truly loved and she truly loved him in return.
Love, in Draco's point of view, was something wonderful when you had it, horrible when you lost it.
Love was beautiful when the sun shined, horrible when it rained.
He hated love at the moment…he didn't want anything to do with it…
He didn't want anything to do with this girl he was supposed to kill either.
Draco took one look at the picture of this girl and was disgusted. She looked so perfect…her hair was perfectly pulled back into a bun…her eyes were full of laughter…
She looked like Kate…but she wasn't exactly like her.
The way she smiled was like Kate…
The way her eyes were always full of spunk and happiness was like Kate…
But her physical features differed.
Oh, whom was he kidding? He knew he would never see Kate again…and no one could ever replace her love.
The passion she gave to him…
His feet began to burn from running for too long, and he was sure that if there were any blisters on them, they had broken open and began to bleed.
Staring ahead, Draco saw a figure running towards him…
A figure that looked very much like a girl…
Nothing stopped either person's onward process except for one thing.
A direct collision into each other.