Two Voices In The Night
You're so unpredictable and I'm so typical
I tried to sell you a heart before you saw the world
I will sing a melody until the fluid starts choking me
And when my eyes are paralyzed I'll stare up at you my star
That I could never reach
Draco Malfoy sat in his study at the manor, blankly staring at an empty glass of firewiskey as though not really seeing it at all, but seeing past it. It had been this way ever since his last year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He had tried to tell her his feelings for her, but he had choked. He had practised the speech over and over again in his mind until it was his only thought, repeating itself like a broken record. But when it had come time to do it, the words froze inside of him.
He had run up to her after the graduation feast and grabbed her elbow. When she whipped around to face him, her eyes glazed over with hatred. Draco knew that the hatred she harboured wasn't for him per say, but for everything his name represented and for his actions towards her and her two best friends. When he set his steely grey eyes on the vision before him, his breath had caught in his throat and had to remind himself to breath.
"Well, What do you want Ferret?" She demanded impatiently. Her face was set with a brazing determination that he had never seen before, but had thought that it made her look even more beautiful. He had opened his mouth to answer, but couldn't get the words to form on his lips. Instead he just stood there, mouth opened dumbly, looking like a floundering fish.
"I just…I just w-wanted…I just wanted to tell you that I'm glad this is our last year hear because it means that I won't have to look upon your filthy, Mudblood face again." He spat; with as much fake hatred as he could muster. Inwardly, he was kicking himself a thousand times over. Her face didn't show any hurt whatsoever, on the contrary, it hardly changed in expression at all.
"Well, if that's all you wanted to say, then I'll be going. It's really getting stale Malfoy, you'd think that over the years you'd be able to pick up some new insults, but then again, your not that verbally inclined, are you? And with that she roughly pulled her elbow out of his grasp and stalked off, bushy brown locks bouncing behind her.
Draco closed his eyes, as if the mere memory brought him pain. Last he had heard, she had travelled to Kenya for her medi-witch training. Why had he lost his cool then? Why had he been such a love struck fool? He took his fist and pounded the dark mahogany wood of his desk. He quickly grabbed the bottle of firewiskey and pulled the stopper out of it, pouring the remainder of its contents into his, now formally, empty glass. This was how he numbed the pain every night. This was how he temporarily forgot about Hermione Granger, the beautiful witch that had his heart and probably didn't even know it or want it.
"She'll never want you. You're a Malfoy, soon to be Death Eater. She'll never love that. You're a stupid git to think that she ever will. Stop living a fantasy and come back to reality. There's only one way to stop this. One way to end it all, permanently. You've got to do it. Do it. Be free or have this pain forever.Your worthless anyway, who'd care?"
He could never have her. She was like a shooting star. His shooting star. So beautiful, yet impossible to reach. He silently twirled his wand around in his pale hands, deciding his fate. There was no point in waiting for love. He only wanted her love, but she didn't want him to have it. He was the last person she would want to love. Or so he thought.
I'll wait for you if you want me to I promise you I wont change a thingI wont be any more or any less
Your secrets safe I'll take it to my...
You're so unpredictable and I'm so typical
I keep tearing away at the skin
To see what's underneath
I will sing a melody until the fluid starts choking me
And when my eyes are paralyzed I'll stare up at you my star.
That I could never reach
Hermione Granger sat in a small tent in Kenya, reading through mountains of paperwork, but not really letting the words sink in. Her thoughts were occupied by a memory. A memory from her last night at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It was a memory that haunted her dreams every night. A memory where a tall, pale boy with white blond hair and steely grey eyes grabbed her by the elbow as she walked out to the lake after the graduation feast to meet Harry and Ron. She had pretended to be mad that he had graced her with his presence, but secretly wondered if he saw the way her cheeks flushed when she turned to face him. He was an absolute hunk, in her opinion. His hair fell messily into his face, hiding his eyes. The eyes that gave he shivers when she made contact with them. She had gazed at him, taking in his toned abs and pale complexion, until she realised that she had been starring. She made it look as if she was annoyed that he was keeping her, franticly wondering if he had noticed her staring, although it had appeared that he hadn't. She had called him a ferret, mentally punching herself a thousand times over, determined for him not to see the hope that lay behind her hazel orbs. Was he going to say something nice? Her expectations had been crushed mercilessly however, when he had come out with another of his usual insults. She had retorted back and quickly stalked off before he could see the tears welling up in her eyes. Later, when Harry and Ron had asked her why she was crying, she had told them that it was because they were never coming back to Hogwarts.
Hermione sighed and blinked forcefully as though the memory brought back old tears. She had been so stupid to think that he could have feelings beyond loathing for her, Then again, she was a muggle-born. A Malfoy and a muggle-born would have never worked, right? He was a Death Eater as far as she knew and she had a promising future ahead of her.
"But what good is a future if it's lonely? He'll never love you. Better to stop it all now. End all this pain the only way possible. If you don't do it, Voldemort or one of his Death Eaters will. Do you want to die at the hands of that or on your own terms? They wont miss another medi-witch; they've got four more. Go ahead, do it. It's the only was to be truly at peace."
Her thoughts repeated themselves until she believed they spoke true. She had only wanted his love but she knew that he hated everything about her. Draco Malfoy would never love her. She was living in a childhood fantasy. She pulled up her sleeve to reveal the scars that marred her porcelain skin. It was the way she got rid of the pain. She would cut a new scar every night and let the pain flow from her in the form of her own blood. It reminded her to feel something other than sadness. It was the only way, she had thought. Until now. She slowly picked up her wand, deciding what to do. Draco Malfoy had her heart, but she knew he didn't know it or want it. Or so she thought.
I'll wait for you if you want me to
I promise you I wont change a thingI wont be anymore or any less
Your secrets safe I'll take it to my...grave
Two voices echoed, breaking the stifling silence of the night. One male, one female. One from a Manor, somewhere in London, the other from a small tent in Kenya. Two voices, belonging to two extremely different people, but with one common purpose. To make it all end. The voices were different, but the words that were voiced were the same.
"Avada Kedavra"
