A/N: The idea just popped in my mind to write a short and inspiring story. Enjoy!

Meaning Of Love

He heard someone floo into his living room, he walked to his living room to greet his guest. It was Derek, sent by his father; it wasn't surprising as this was Derek's third time visiting him this week. Derek was, like his father, a Death Eater. And he knew, after tonight, he would be one too.

"Hello Draco," Derek said in a sly and low tone.

"Derek," Draco replied casually, there was a hint of fear in his voice but he wasn't sure Derek realized it.

"I'm here to take you away," Derek announced.

"What? But the ceremony isn't until midnight," Draco stated, checking the grandfather's clock to make sure. It was only ten o'clock.

"I'm here to take you away so that you don't have to attend the ceremony. Your mother sent me here," Derek said in the same low tone.

"My mother," Draco said urgently, "How is she doing?"

"Sick, very sick. And her last wish was to be assured that you weren't a Death Eater like your father."

"I want to see her," Draco said.

"Then let's go," Derek said and with a crack, we apparated to St. Mungo's Hospital.

"She's in this ward," Derek told Draco.

Draco entered the ward tentatively, and at once, he saw the woman who brought him to live. Narcissa Malfoy was dying, and she knew she was dying. But seeing her son here today cheered her up. Draco, seeing his mother in this condition, couldn't help but feel sorry. He wanted to help her, even if it's just a little bit, he wanted to ease her pain. Derek was surprised to see Draco with compassion. Growing up with Draco, he knew Draco as a stuck-up and spoiled rich wizard. But seeing Draco with compassion today changed his views of him.

"Mother," Draco whispered softly, stroking her soft blonde hair.

Narcissa smiled weakly, "Draco my boy, you've grown up."

"He did this to you didn't he?" Draco said angrily.

"My boy, grow up to be the man I raised you to be. Don't make the same mistakes your father did," Narcissa spoke with a weak voice, stopping every so often to catch her breath.

"I'm not a Death Eater, mother. Never was and never will be," Draco assured his dying mother.

Narcissa smiled one last time and said, "That's my boy," before she released her last breath.

Draco finally allowed one lone tear to fall. The hot tear stung his cold cheeks like hot metal pressed on hot skin. Draco's heart hurt so badly as if a thousand hot knives were piercing into it. His mother, his mother who loved and cared for him even though he treated her badly, has just left him. And the realization struck him that no one else will love him as much as his mother had loved him.

"I never thought your mother will create compassion in you," Derek said slowly.

"What do you know about a mother's love? You killed your own mother to kiss the Dark Lord's feet," I shot at him.

Derek looked as though he had been slapped on his face. Derek spoke again, "Let's go or we'll be late."

"I'm not going to be a Death Eater!" Draco said in a final tone.

"You're going to give up glory for your dead mother?" Derek asked icily.

"Glory? And what does glory pays us off? Being stuck to the Dark Lord for rest of my life? Having to do all the dirty work for him? If that's what you call glory, then I don't want glory!" Draco shouted at Derek.

Derek shot Draco one last glare and apparated away. Draco sighed heavily and sat down on a chair beside his mother's bed. He could hear someone entering the ward, a healer perhaps.

"I wanted to believe in miracles, but miracles never exist. I wanted to believe that my best friend is still alive, but I saw him buried with my own two eyes. I wanted to believe that this war has end, but I see killings everywhere," a familiar voice said from behind me.

Draco spun around and saw a lady, with brunette colored wavy hair and dark brown eyes, a lady he knew so well from his schooldays.

"What are you doing here Granger?" Draco asked Hermione Granger, his schooldays enemy.

"I work here," Hermione told him.

Draco somehow felt her words earlier comforting. He wanted to hear more.

"Well, go on," he said, "Continue what you were saying just now."

"War is started by nations but it is men who has to pay the price. Everyday seems to bring more and more deaths, more and more tears. And when everything is gone, we retreat to our last resort, love, the only true gifts from the gods. Everywhere I turn, I see dead people, even if they're still alive, there're dead inside. They mourn for the lost of their loved ones; they don't feel like being alive anymore. Do the Death Eaters really like seeing dead people, I know I don't," Hermione said in a cracked voice.

"They did it because they didn't have any other choice. They did it because they were confused. They were lost in their own lies. They couldn't find themselves," Draco told her.

"The only thing left is love, but I questioned myself, what is love?" she asked in a soft and sad voice.

"Love is the soul's recognition of its counterpoint in another," Draco answered.

They remained silent for a while. In this war, we could expect nothing. We wanted it to end so badly, we didn't realize we were the cause of this destruction.

"I don't see a reason to live this life anymore, Draco. Do you?" Hermione asked him.

"I don't, Hermione," he answered.

And silence took over once more.

A/N: Was it good? Don't forget to review!