The free bird leaps on the back of the wind and floats downstream till the current ends and dips

his wings in the orange sun rays and dares to claim the sky.

But a bird that stalks down his narrow cage can seldom see through his bars of rage his wings

are clipped and his feet are tied so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings with fearful trill of the things unknown but longed for still and is tune is

heard on the distant hillfor the caged bird sings of freedom

The free bird thinks of another breeze an the trade winds soft through the sighing trees and the

fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn and he names the sky his own.

But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream his

wings are clipped and his feet are tied so he opens his throat to sing

The caged bird sings with a fearful trill of things unknown but longed for still and his tune is

heard on the distant hill for the caged bird sings of freedom.

Maya Angelou

...

It had been months since he had seen her, yet the image of her face was seared into his very being.

A harsh reminder of the consequences of forbidden love.

Every morning, he would begin the day with the monotonous act of pouring himself a glass of firewhiskey. It had been long since it had burned his insides, instead a feeling of numbness took its place with every swallow.

And every morning as faithfully as he breathed, he would pluck a photoframe from the table and look at the woman in the photo.

Her hair swayed with the light breeze, a cherry tree in full blossom behind her.

The fomer Slytheryn would often awaken with a sharp, burning sensation in his gut, yet every night he would take a flask to his lips. He felt the humanity slipping from his fingers with each morning. He was on a perpetual path to self destruction, and the only option he felt viable, was to drink himself into oblivion, because happy endings weren't meant for people like him. In a way he thought himself a coward for doing so; drinking the sorrow away rather than confronting it.

...

A dusky trail of stubble took its place on Draco Malfoy's jaw, giving him the illusion of someone much older.

The dark bags under his eyes had only strengthened this illusion. He hadn't slept properly in weeks, unable to do so without the warmth of a certain Griffyndor. Her cinnamon scent and her sweet voice were like a lullaby; saving him from the darkness that was beginning to cloud over his existance so ominously.

Outside his window, an ominous grey sky hovered over the manor, and he wondered if it had transformed itself to reflect his soul. He dropped his head into his hands, cradling it for a few moments before continuing his day. This routine would only last a few moments before he would go on to other things.

Her memory was killing him like a poison. Slowly but surely. He hated not being able to forget her; knowing well that she had forgotten him a long time ago. Perhaps she was sitting with her husband now sipping the bitter black coffee she had always preferred.

...

The distinct sound of the golden door knocker against the large oak enterance resounded throughout the silent manor; snapping the blonde back into reality. Slowly, Draco Malfoy made his way to it, stumbling through the corridors.

He pulled the door open with unecessary force; unwilling to face humanity.

There she stood, her ethereal presence eminating a foreign glow. A smile spread across her features; the first genuine smile in months.

He feared that his loudly beating heart would give him away. He swore under his breath, wishing the trecherous thing would stop beating for a moment or two. It seemed that the firewhiskey was fucking with his mind, blurring the lines between dreams and reality.

"Draco..."

Before she could finish, he pulled her into a deep kiss; an all too familiar moisture collecting against his cheek. Tears leaked from her eyes and she felt as if her heart were coming undone with the mere contact. He ran his fingers through her hair, unable to believe that it was her. He needed to study this angelic being before she disappeared into thin air, leaving a lead like weight on his heart. He feared that he would awaken from his drunken stupor to an empty bed.

But she remained in the doorway. Her hauntingly beautiful eyes shined with mischief. Her smile stealing his breath as it so often did.

"I missed you so fucking much," he sighed.

"Me too," she whispered... "I love you."

"Do you wish you didn't?"

"Never."

He grinned, lifting her hand; gently kissing her fingers until he came into contact with the ring. Slowly, he slippped it off of her ring finger and set it onto a small table. The symbolism of the act was great. She felt free. She was released from the cage that held her restricted, scared.

She was free to love.

~Fin~

So that's it you guys. :) Whatcha think? Did you like the story, let me know! Thanks for reading. Much love.