Cemetery

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any related characters, settings or plotlines.

Hermione Granger walked solemnly along the narrow pathway. The moon was high in the sky above her, only days from reaching its maximum visibility to the world. The soft white light from the heavens cast a silver glow across the land around her; trees were silhouetted flawlessly, branches spread across the sky as leaves rustled gently in the soft breeze.

As the wind picked up, Hermione pulled her cloak tighter around her. She was clad all in black from the cloak on her shoulders to the shoes on her feet. The only thing that stood out was the diamond ring on her left hand, the pale moonlight causing it to shine brighter than ever before.

Reaching the end of the pathway, Hermione paused, suddenly apprehensive. She looked down at the ring, moving her hand in order to see it from every angle. It seemed to shimmer as though almost alive. Oh, if only …

She felt tears welling up in her eyes and blinked them back furiously. She did not want to cry. This night meant so much to her that she refused to spoil it with pointless tears.

Determined now, she took a deep breath and stepped off the path onto fresh dewy grass. She walked a few metres before realising she was still holding her breath. She let it out with a sigh, nerves calmed slightly by the knowledge that she was still breathing; still alive.

The next hundred metres or so seemed to take hours. She was so close now. So close to freedom. So close to …

Then, in the blink of an eye, she was there. She could see the pale silver shape in the ground; feel his presence around her. She sat down, tucking her legs underneath her and staring at the solitary object in front of her. She ran her fingers over the scripted writing, feeling the words she knew to perfection. She had been here so many times that the words had become imprinted in her mind for eternity.

Draco Malfoy
1984 – 2005
Devoted husband and friend
If only more people could have seen the real you
My love for you is eternal

She closed her eyes, afraid that if she kept them open, the tears would begin to fall again. She had cried so many tears at this very spot over the years; but she refused to cry anymore.

Ten years was too long to be alone; too long to live without the one you loved.

He had died to save her. Ten years ago to the day it had been his sacrifice that had kept her alive. But though he didn't realise it at the time, it was this sacrifice that had killed her. She was nothing without him. An empty shell with no perception of space or time. She had faded away to oblivion.

She had made her sacrifice to be with him in the beginning. Her love for him caused all her friends to leave her, her family to disown her. But she had not cared. He was everything to her and her life was nothing without him.

Just as it had been for ten years. A meaningless black hole. The only thing that kept her alive was his memory and the knowledge that he had died because he wanted her to live. But even that wasn't enough any more. She was sick to death of living a lie. Sick to death of living …

She reached a hand deep into the pocket of her cloak and pulled out a small knife, running her thumb gently along the sharp blade. Taking the tip of the knife, she pressed it into the end of her finger until the dull metal pierced the skin and a few drops of blood appeared on the surface. She held the finger over the silver plaque and watched as a droplet of the red liquid fell silently onto the metal.

"I love you Draco," she whispered into the night before taking the knife and plunging it deep into her heart.

Pain shot through her entire body and she gasped, taking in her final breath before she fell lifelessly to the ground, the dagger still penetrating her long-broken heart.

She opened her eyes slowly and found herself surrounded by a warm golden light. She looked down and saw her soul-departed body lying on the ground. There were tears in her eyes but not one of them had fallen to the ground.

Suddenly, she felt a soft touch on her shoulder and looked up, too much at peace to be startled by the sudden action.

As she looked into the silver-grey eyes that she had craved so long, she knew immediately that everything would be alright.

"It's time to go Hermione," he told her, his love for her lingering on every word he said; every look he gave her.

Hermione took a last look back at her lifeless body and knew he was right. She took the hand he was offering and let him pull her to her feet.

As he wrapped his strong arms around her, the outside world faded slowly away. But Hermione cared for none of that. With his arms around her, she was safe; she was protected; she was home.