Join me in death

Hermione was walking thought dark corridors in the Ministry of Magic, in the Department of Mysteries. Her bare feet weren't making any sound on the freezing stone floor. It was the only place she could go now to be alone. Her eyes were swollen red from all the crying. Salty tears burned her cheeks, which were smeared with drying blood, just as was her hospital gown.

She couldn't take it anymore! She hated everything! She was in hell on earth now, with no one to love and with nothing to treasure. There was nothing worth living her life for. There was nothing left only a meaningless abyss. Hurt and hopelessness burned her insides like acid. Crying no longer helped. Tears just rolled off her cheeks dripping on the cold stone floor at her feet. Cold… cold as her life, cold as her soul… and so lonely. Her knees gave way and her form crashed onto the floor with all the force. Something cracked colliding with the grey cave-like rocky ground, but she didn't even notice that pain. The hurt inside her was far worse. Her sobs echoed off the walls, circling her, trapping her./b

She felt so empty clutching at her stomach and feeling nothing now except the sticky crimson blood, serving as a reminder to her, as a torture. She wanted to cry herself to eternal sleep right there and then, lying on the cold stone floor, shivering and gasping for air, all alone. But death was reluctant to come. Was fate laughing at her misery and her destiny? Why did it take the only two joys away from her? Whatever she has done to deserve this

She clutched onto her mutilated stomach and curled into a tighter ball. She was becoming delirious and feverish, slipping in and out of consciousness. Tears. Too much of them. They were choking her, mocking her… Life went flashing in front of her eyes…

Hermione was a brilliant witch, ever since Hogwarts, and so she had no trouble getting a job at the Ministry of Magic in the Department of International Magical cooperation. After some time she was married to Ron Weasley. They were dating ever since their last year. He was the only guy ever interested in her, a bookworm and a study freak, plus they knew each other for years. Everything went well for the first year of their marriage but then… fights began. Ron was always jealous and paranoid without any apparent reason. Then, after a while, he started locking her up in the house. Work was the only place she could go. She couldn't meet up with friends anymore; there were never any guests in their house. It was horrible the way he treated her. It seemed as if she was his property and nothing else.

Hermione thought Ron became like this after the Great Battle. Most of his family and friends died. Harry died, taking Voldemort with him. But as much as she felt sorry for her husband sometimes, it was impossible to live with the man. When she went to a store without him, beatings took place. There were two motivations: spending money and going out. Ron was extremely touchy about finances, although they were both working and getting good wages.

The only place she was happy at was her work. Nobody knew anything of what was happening to the brilliant young witch, who was always friendly to everyone and eager to help, when she got home. Hermione couldn't run away because the moment Ron got her home, her wand was confiscated. She mourned. First of all, for herself, second of all for the friends she missed, those who died, and third of all, for Ron. He wasn't the sweet boy she knew as a teenager, there was nothing left of him. He was even more dead then Harry or Ginny or Neville. Her husband was a different person that scared her, crazy with mourning his friends and family.

Hermione, being who she was, tried to burry herself in carrier and books, as she usually did, but with time these things lost their healing qualities. She began to realize how lonely and meaningless her life was. She cried harder during the nights than she ever did.

That was until Hermione met him. Instantly everything changed. She breathed and lived only during the moments they were together. He became a god, her life and soul. She was miserable when they were apart. When she was in his arms, nothing else mattered. Her world consisted only of his touch, his lips, his scent, his skin…

It was the end of the last day of her working week. Hermione was gathering her papers. The sense of dread came nagging at her, as it usually did, when she was thinking about two full days in the house with only her horrible husband for company. Tears swelled up in her eyes. He was supposed to come any minute to take her home. She hated it.

"Are you ready?" said Ron without any emotion in his voice, grabbing her from behind by the elbow.

Hermione swallowed the tears that were forming a ball in her throat and blocking her lungs. Why, why did everything have to be so horrid? Why did he have to be so horrid? To think, they could've lived happily together for years! And he had to become like this. Suddenly anger boiled inside her and, even despite knowing she will get herself in trouble, Hermione jerked her elbow away from his grip and turned to face him.

"Let go of me! What right do you have always trailing me as if I am a dog on a short leash! I hate you, don't you understand! I don't want to be with you and I despise your stupid face! I am leaving and I want a divorce! You can do nothing to stop me!"

Hermione dashed for the door, trembling all over from fear and rage. But just as she was about to throw it open, Ron grabbed her by the hair and flung her back. He was furious.

"Can do nothing to stop you, is that right, you little wh0re? Huh? What do you say now, b!tch?"

He slapped her with all the force he had, catching the skin on her cheek with his nail, leaving a wide bloody scratch right across the red mark of his hand. With the force of the slap Hermione stumbled back and fell, banging her head on the corner of the table. She was sprawled on the floor with tears flowing freely from her eyes. Her cheek and her cut eyebrow stung badly. Her head spun from the blow. The young woman could see her husband's figure standing a couple of feet away from her. He was saying something. She didn't hear him. She was seeing her chance of escape.

Hermione mustered all her strength and, swiftly rising, charged at Ron's feet. He felt. She ran to the door as fast as she could and, in a matter of moments, was outside in the corridor, running wherever her feet would take her. There was no one in the halls. When she finally realized there was no pursue, Hermione was far in the labyrinth of the Department of Mysteries.

The woman slowed down to a pace and after a couple of meters exhaustion and dizziness swept over her and she slid against the wall to the floor, clutching her knees to her chest. Her heart was pounding from fear. What is going to happen now? She had nowhere to go. She had nothing. No friends. No money. No home. Tears came back. Why was everything so bad? How did it turn out this way? Where did she go wrong?

The young woman sobbed her heart out during the hour she sat there. She didn't even notice a tingling sensation in her mind when it came and went. She didn't even notice the sound of swishing cloak. She didn't even hear the footsteps of the person watching her. It was dark where she was; only a little candle gleamed some meters away.

After awhile her head started throbbing from all the crying. There was nothing to live for, then why try? She felt her pockets and got out a little knife. The last gift from Harry. She always carried it around to remind herself of the good times that were. Everything would be so much different if he was around…

Now the knife seemed pretty handy to her. Hermione rolled up her left sleeve and put the little silver blade to the blue wire on her wrist. Could she do it? She remembered Harry, his laughter. She loved him so much… of course only as a friend but that was enough. That love was much purer. Then her memory flashed to his disfigured body, washed by the post-battle rain. She could see the blade gleaming in the dull light, hazy because of the newly formed tears. She pressed it. Blood flowed… She was slipping out of consciousness as she heard someone very near to her.

"Oh, no, no, no…"

"You are safe now", someone whispered in her ear softly and she felt warmth of the lips on her forehead.

Hermione opened her eyes with difficulty. She was still in the stone corridors. Her head was placed on something soft and there was a something under her to keep her off the floor and there was a warm blanket covering her.

"Can I have some water?" she said quietly.

Her throat was dry. After a moment she felt a cool fountain hitting her tongue. She lapped at it hungrily. She thanked the person, when she was finished. She still couldn't see him, because he stood with his back to the light, so his face was in shadows, but she could see blonde hair gleaming in the mysterious candlelight. The young woman sat up. Everything started to come back to her.

"Who are you and why did you help me? I didn't want to live…"

"No, you did. You just didn't know how", the voice was male and charmingly husky. "I helped you because… because I think that I love you…"

Hermione stared at the man in front of her. She didn't understand. He leaned in towards her. She didn't stop him. His lips collided with hers. The kiss was soft and gentle. Her head spinned. The kiss became deeper. He cupped her face in his hands and traced her cheek with his thumb. Every touch sent tingles and electricity through her. That's what it supposed to feel like, she thought. She felt that this was the person she was mean to be with. She didn't know who he was, but it felt right, just as it supposed to be. It never felt that way with Ron, even when he was still normal and they had feelings for each other.

After what seemed like ages they broke apart. To Hermione this was heaven. She never felt that way before. She gazed at the outline of the man in front of her. He felt so dear and so right. At the moment she realised she loved him even before she met him and they were meant to be together.

She got up and slipped her clothes off and went into his arms.

Draco Malfoy. Her life. Her love. Her soul. That's who he was from now on. Hermione knew he felt the same towards her. The knowledge was just so natural that they needn't even voice it out loud.

The two days of her weekend were spend right there in the corridors within each other's arms. They talked as if they knew each other forever and ever. He was an Unspeakable for the Ministry and his life was spent right in those corridors. Draco was cleared after the war, because he never fought for Voldemort, never been a Deatheater. Veritiserum was used on him for a long time until the Ministry was convinced of his full innocence and so they took him in.

When Hermione came to his corridors, crying her eyes out, he read her mind, everything about her and he just fell in love. He didn't know how it happened. When he saw her bring the blade to her wrist, he understood that she was his life and nothing would ever change that.

Hermione couldn't stay with Draco there forever. She needed to go back to work; otherwise people would notice she isn't there. But she was scared of Ron. Draco convinced her it would be alright, that he will make Ron forget what happened. And he was as true as his word, although Hermione didn't know how he did that. She went back home but she and Draco met as often as possible. She breathed only when she was in his arms. The rest of the time was a torture without him. He was always on her mind.

One day after a month of secrecy, they decided to run away together. Draco promised to send her a note at the right time. That day she was extremely nervous. Lunch passed and there was nothing from him. When at the end of the day there was still no note, she could stand it no longer. Her heart was beating fast. She knew something happened. She ran to the Department of Mysteries as fast as she could, not even taking notice of people staring at her.

Her scream echoed through the silent dark corridors. Draco's body was lying not far from the exit. He faced down. It was clear someone attacked him from the back and he wasn't aware of it. Hermione didn't noticed people arriving around her. Her eyes were dry. She just stood there, looking at her dead lover. How beautiful he was, she thought then.

Hermione didn't speak for two weeks. Everyone thought it was the shock of seeing a dead body. Ron was glum and quieter then usual around her. She didn't care. She was thinking of following her love to a better place, where he was now, probably waiting for her.

After two weeks, she was happy again. She was pregnant. The child wasn't Ron's. They were sleeping in separate rooms for a year now. So knowing there was a part of Draco in her, she found something worth living for again. That was her new strength. Only Ron scared her. He was still very silent.

Six month after Draco's death, Hermione woke up to find her stomach no longer concealable. She panicked. Today was her holiday and Ron was somewhere out. She was cleaning his room manually. He had her wand with him at all times and locked everything when leaving her alone. Under his bed she found a crumpled piece of paper. She unfolded it, having no idea what it was. After a moment it fell out of her hand and she paled, almost fainting. She sat on his bed and cried for the longest time. It was Draco's note. He sent it to her and was waiting for her to come. Ron must have intercepted it somehow, got there and killed him.

She couldn't believe it. How could he? How? After sometime she could cry no longer. She wrapped her arm protectively over her stomach and wanted to go downstairs for a drink of water. She didn't want to damage her baby's health by stressing. Hermione still clutched the note in her hand.

She was so shocked to find Ron at the top of the stairs. He flashed his eyes at her stomach, which was exposed to him for the first time. He had a dangerous look about him, which made her break into chilly sweating. His ever-penetrating eyes spotted the note in her hand.

"You wh0re!" he hissed through gritted teeth and pushed her.

Hermione's heart skipped a beat as she felt herself losing consciousness, looking up at Ron from the foot of the stairs where she landed after he pushed her.

After that her baby was gone. She was sent to a hospital, where she apperated from to the dungeons that were so dear to her once, when there was a lovely grey-eyed phantom dwelling here. Now they were as cold as her body, as she was lying here, clutching at her bloody stomach, sobbing pitifully in the darkness. Her lips were dry and swollen. Her eyes were red and puffy and her whole body cried with pain… but it wasn't as painful as the wailing of her heart. It was broken…

Hermione's tears ceased, as she turned feverish. Her breathing was laboured. She peered into the darkness. Was she seeing things or there was someone approaching? She thought she saw a gleaming outline of blonde hair… no, it couldn't be…

Draco! It was him! His shape was silvery and transparent but it was unmistakeably her love! Hermione's heartbeat fastened. He was beckoning and smiling. She smiled back and got up. Nothing ached anymore and she felt perfectly fine. She came closer to him and he circled his arms around her, kissing her forehead.

"You are safe now, my darling", Draco whispered so softly.

Their hands entwined and they walked away into the darkness, smiling at each other.