Thinking About Things I Should Have Said and Done
Draco Malfoy
Draco was sitting on the sofa in the library of Malfoy Manor. He'd been there for two weeks, three days, and four hours. Draco had a mission and he wasn't going to leave until he had succeeded. The only reason he was still alive was that the house elves were using magic to sustain him.
He had to save her life. If it took researching until his fingers fell off and his eyes dried out then he would do it. He was prepared to do anything to bring her home. He couldn't lose her just after he'd found her. She was the best thing that had ever happened to him and he wasn't about to lose that.
Cancer was out. She didn't have cancer. She was only twenty seven years old, for Merlin's sake! Why was she bloody dying! Draco abruptly threw the heavy book across the room. The spine of it hit the wall and ripped apart. It didn't matter. That book was just as useless as everything else in the library.
He was useless.
"Malfoy open this door right now! I'm not in the mood for you stupid mind games!"
Potter. Draco didn't know what possessed him to key Potter and Weasley to his wards. Someone had to stay with her, keep her safe, and he couldn't right now. He had to find a way to save her. There was no other option.
"I have to find the answer. I –
"It's too late." Silence. His ears muted, ringing with the loud silence. Draco's hands started to shake, exhaustion and dehydration taking over.
"Come on, let me in!" Potter insisted and the door blew open. Wood splintered over the slick library floor, but Draco hardly noticed. Did Potter just say it was too late? But….she had….two more weeks left!
"You bloody bastard. This is what you've been doing? Reading books while your wife dies….alone?" Potter looked angry, but not upset. Not heartbroken by the loss of his childhood friend.
Potter fell silent finally and stared at his face for a long time.
"She died. Two minutes ago, alone. You weren't there. Why weren't you there!" Potter screamed as suddenly as he had fallen silent.
Draco felt something lodge itself in his throat and his heart skipped a few beats. He slipped off the sofa, down to his knees and clutched Potter's legs. A scream broke through the mess inside but Potter remained completely still.
His wife was gone. Hermione was gone. He let her die alone. He should have been there, should have said he loved her. But he hadn't been there. He couldn't save her. She was gone.
A/N:This part of Draco had nothing to with Hermione and her daughter Taylor in the last chapter. It's entirely separate. Review!