It All Went Wrong
Okay, here is a little one-shot that I came up with a while back, but I just recently finished it. It's Dramione and full of angst. I hope you enjoy x]
Title: It All Went Wrong
Author: johnnypickalot
Rating: 15+
Summary: Voldemort is defeated, but the wizarding world goes to pot as the remaining Death Eaters come back with the vengeance. This is a one-shot about Hermione coming back from the final war, finally at peace, to say her final goodbye to the love of her life. DracoxHermione
Disclaimer: Not mine. All belongs to J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury.
It was a cool, damp morning in the middle of November. There was still fresh dew on the tiny blades of grass that caressed the many stones surrounding several mounds of turned soil. The air around them was stale and smelt like clay and dust. Even the sweet smell of the roses circling them could not overpower the feeling of death in this place.
But, of course, death was all around them for they were standing in the middle of a graveyard.
Though, this was not just any graveyard. This happened to be the resting place of Albus Dumbledore himself; along with many others who died in the war between good and evil.
Even though the war was over, many of the defeated did not take so kindly to being locked up in Azkaban. They came back with a vengeance and struck hard. The witches and wizards who fought in the war were not surprised that they sought revenge on the people that caused their Dark Lord’s downfall. They were only shocked by the force they came back on. No one had expected it to be this serious for there were only a few Death Eaters that were willing to come back and fight again.
But, the few that did come back were relentless. They stopped at nothing and at times, it seemed like they didn’t even rest.
Everyone had thought that they’d be safe after Lord Voldemort was vanquished, but they were wrong. Many perished by the hands of his followers.
But at last! Everything was finished and everyone was safe again. And now it was time to look back on the losses.
Hermione Granger, for one, lost most everything that was dear to her. She lost her home. She lost her friends. She even lost her dog. But what pained her most, was the fact that she lost part of herself. Her soul. Her heart.
She sniffled as she looked down at the mound before her. The grave was about a month old, but this was the first and only time she’d been able to visit it. She had been too busy helping all the others end the madness the Death Eaters brought to return and attend the funeral.
Hermione reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a deep green handkerchief which she used to wipe the dampness from her eyes.
He took her heart. Hermione didn’t give it to him, he took it. And now, she was never going to get it back for it was buried six feet under along with the body of her old lover.
He could have it. She didn’t mind much. It wasn’t like she had any use for the damned thing any longer.
There was no point or need to take it back, because now, she had no one to love with it…No one to give herself to.
Because he was gone…And he wasn’t coming back.
Hermione’s throat felt like it was about to close as she came to terms with the truth in her mind.
He wasn’t coming back.
She never was going to be able to hold him again. She wasn’t going to be able to kiss him again.
A single tear slid down the side of her cheek.
She could never tell him ‘I love you’ again.
Her bottom lip began to tremble as she examined the grave. She held her hand to her mouth as she noticed that there were barely any flowers adorning the spot. She raged inside. How dare they not put anything on his grave. He deserved the same treatment as anybody else.
But the fact was that nobody else cared that he was dead. To be quite truthful, everyone else was happy to see him go. And that sickened her to no end.
With her wand, she conjured three huge bouquets of assorted flowers and arranged them around the tombstone. Hermione did it very precisely, taking great care in her work. When she was finished, she gave a small smile and looked around her. There weren’t many people here. Four to five at the most.
They were only there to pay their respects, nothing more. Not to grieve. Not to mourn. But just to make Hermione feel better. To let her know that she wasn’t alone.
But she was. She was more alone than she’d ever been in her twenty two years of living.
She looked up to see the feeble smile of George Weasley. Hermione nodded to him, not able to work the muscles around her mouth to even attempt to smile. He nodded back in understanding. George seemed to be the only one who understood. Harry and Ron didn’t even understand. They hadn’t lost someone that close to them. Yes, Harry lost his parents but he barely knew them. And yes, Ron lost Fred, but there relationship couldn’t even come close to Fred and George’s relationship. They were twins; it was what was expected.
It had been five years since Fred’s death, but it was like it had happened yesterday to George. They had came to the conclusion that he would never get over Fred’s passing. It was impossible for him. It was like a part of him was missing. Like some had cut him in the middle and taken half away. The better half.
Hermione felt the same way. That was why George understood. And that was why Hermione accepted his comfort.
She wiped the lingering tears away from her cheek as George stepped forward and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, squeezing one of them in reassurance. She felt the eyes of her best friends on her back as she stared at the grave, almost waiting for him to pop up from the ground with one of his cocky smirks on his face and tell her that it was all a dirty trick. Then she would slap him but would feel so unbelievably happy that he wasn’t actually gone.
But, sadly, that was not the case.
Hermione tried to look back on the good memories but was only haunted by the bad. The days when he teased her relentlessly. The times when he called her that filthy name. The last time she saw him, bleeding out on the floor.
She mentally shook out the memories from her head, and tried so hard to focus on the good. The days when he noticed how much she had changed. Back to the times when he used to stalk her, but denied to do so. The time he told her that she was more to him than a pretty little thing to pester with. The moment when he told her that he was falling in love with her. Making love to him till early in the morning. His proposal. Her agreement.
So many beautiful moments between them, tainted by the gruesome event of his death.
Hermione bowed her head in grief and the tears fell yet again. God, how she missed him. And the last memory she had of him was an argument between the two of them, concerning their marriage.
“Why do you have to be so damn stuck up all the time!” Hermione screeched to the tall, lean, blonde man in front of her.
He just smirked in turn, “Come now, Granger. Do you expect anything less of me?”
She fumed, “Oh, excuse me, Mr. High-and-Mighty. I forgot that you’re the King of Right and the purest one of all.”
He just rolled his eyes, his hair falling across his face in that gorgeous way that Hermione absolutely hated and loved at the same time, “Well, how else is a pureblood supposed to act? Can’t rough around like Weasel-bee and Pothead, can I now? It’d give me a bad image.”
Hermione growled. She knew that he just said those obnoxious comment to get her riled up. But, though she knew, she could never stop herself from getting angry anyway.
“You’re so prejudiced!”
He turned and pinned her with his stormy, gray eyes, “I am not prejudiced…” Then, slowly, he broke out into a smirk, “I just simply hate everyone.”
Hermione, feeling a little shot down, stepped back and cried out in frustration, storming into the kitchen.
Looking back on it, Hermione cracked a smile at how sarcastic and narcissistic he was. And the only reason that he did it was because he absolutely adored seeing her angry. It was one of his most favorite pastimes - literally.
But, Merlin, how she adored him. Even against her better judgment, she always ran right back to him. But it was all worth it.
Sighing, she placed another set of white lilies on top of the grave, and looked at the slab. It was unmarked. She fumed in anger but let it subside as she took out her wand and started to carve in beautiful calligraphy.
DRACO MALFOY
1986-2009
Loving and caring man; even when no one was watching.
George read what she wrote aloud and a small smirk crept up on his features. He looked down at the crouching Hermione and stroked her hair. She stood up and nodded at him. George nodded back before they all turned around and headed back to the car.
Hermione kept her head down the whole trip back to her empty apartment. Concentrating so hard so the image of her lover’s face wouldn’t fade into the deep corners of her mind.
She opened her eyes slowly and looked down at her hand, the ring he gave her glinting the sunlight.
She would never take it off.
For that was the only true part of him left; other than the moving pictures at home.
And she would never, ever let that part of him die from her.
Title: It All Went Wrong
Author: johnnypickalot
Rating: 15+
Summary: Voldemort is defeated, but the wizarding world goes to pot as the remaining Death Eaters come back with the vengeance. This is a one-shot about Hermione coming back from the final war, finally at peace, to say her final goodbye to the love of her life. DracoxHermione
Disclaimer: Not mine. All belongs to J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury.
It was a cool, damp morning in the middle of November. There was still fresh dew on the tiny blades of grass that caressed the many stones surrounding several mounds of turned soil. The air around them was stale and smelt like clay and dust. Even the sweet smell of the roses circling them could not overpower the feeling of death in this place.
But, of course, death was all around them for they were standing in the middle of a graveyard.
Though, this was not just any graveyard. This happened to be the resting place of Albus Dumbledore himself; along with many others who died in the war between good and evil.
Even though the war was over, many of the defeated did not take so kindly to being locked up in Azkaban. They came back with a vengeance and struck hard. The witches and wizards who fought in the war were not surprised that they sought revenge on the people that caused their Dark Lord’s downfall. They were only shocked by the force they came back on. No one had expected it to be this serious for there were only a few Death Eaters that were willing to come back and fight again.
But, the few that did come back were relentless. They stopped at nothing and at times, it seemed like they didn’t even rest.
Everyone had thought that they’d be safe after Lord Voldemort was vanquished, but they were wrong. Many perished by the hands of his followers.
But at last! Everything was finished and everyone was safe again. And now it was time to look back on the losses.
Hermione Granger, for one, lost most everything that was dear to her. She lost her home. She lost her friends. She even lost her dog. But what pained her most, was the fact that she lost part of herself. Her soul. Her heart.
She sniffled as she looked down at the mound before her. The grave was about a month old, but this was the first and only time she’d been able to visit it. She had been too busy helping all the others end the madness the Death Eaters brought to return and attend the funeral.
Hermione reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a deep green handkerchief which she used to wipe the dampness from her eyes.
He took her heart. Hermione didn’t give it to him, he took it. And now, she was never going to get it back for it was buried six feet under along with the body of her old lover.
He could have it. She didn’t mind much. It wasn’t like she had any use for the damned thing any longer.
There was no point or need to take it back, because now, she had no one to love with it…No one to give herself to.
Because he was gone…And he wasn’t coming back.
Hermione’s throat felt like it was about to close as she came to terms with the truth in her mind.
He wasn’t coming back.
She never was going to be able to hold him again. She wasn’t going to be able to kiss him again.
A single tear slid down the side of her cheek.
She could never tell him ‘I love you’ again.
Her bottom lip began to tremble as she examined the grave. She held her hand to her mouth as she noticed that there were barely any flowers adorning the spot. She raged inside. How dare they not put anything on his grave. He deserved the same treatment as anybody else.
But the fact was that nobody else cared that he was dead. To be quite truthful, everyone else was happy to see him go. And that sickened her to no end.
With her wand, she conjured three huge bouquets of assorted flowers and arranged them around the tombstone. Hermione did it very precisely, taking great care in her work. When she was finished, she gave a small smile and looked around her. There weren’t many people here. Four to five at the most.
They were only there to pay their respects, nothing more. Not to grieve. Not to mourn. But just to make Hermione feel better. To let her know that she wasn’t alone.
But she was. She was more alone than she’d ever been in her twenty two years of living.
She looked up to see the feeble smile of George Weasley. Hermione nodded to him, not able to work the muscles around her mouth to even attempt to smile. He nodded back in understanding. George seemed to be the only one who understood. Harry and Ron didn’t even understand. They hadn’t lost someone that close to them. Yes, Harry lost his parents but he barely knew them. And yes, Ron lost Fred, but there relationship couldn’t even come close to Fred and George’s relationship. They were twins; it was what was expected.
It had been five years since Fred’s death, but it was like it had happened yesterday to George. They had came to the conclusion that he would never get over Fred’s passing. It was impossible for him. It was like a part of him was missing. Like some had cut him in the middle and taken half away. The better half.
Hermione felt the same way. That was why George understood. And that was why Hermione accepted his comfort.
She wiped the lingering tears away from her cheek as George stepped forward and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, squeezing one of them in reassurance. She felt the eyes of her best friends on her back as she stared at the grave, almost waiting for him to pop up from the ground with one of his cocky smirks on his face and tell her that it was all a dirty trick. Then she would slap him but would feel so unbelievably happy that he wasn’t actually gone.
But, sadly, that was not the case.
Hermione tried to look back on the good memories but was only haunted by the bad. The days when he teased her relentlessly. The times when he called her that filthy name. The last time she saw him, bleeding out on the floor.
She mentally shook out the memories from her head, and tried so hard to focus on the good. The days when he noticed how much she had changed. Back to the times when he used to stalk her, but denied to do so. The time he told her that she was more to him than a pretty little thing to pester with. The moment when he told her that he was falling in love with her. Making love to him till early in the morning. His proposal. Her agreement.
So many beautiful moments between them, tainted by the gruesome event of his death.
Hermione bowed her head in grief and the tears fell yet again. God, how she missed him. And the last memory she had of him was an argument between the two of them, concerning their marriage.
“Why do you have to be so damn stuck up all the time!” Hermione screeched to the tall, lean, blonde man in front of her.
He just smirked in turn, “Come now, Granger. Do you expect anything less of me?”
She fumed, “Oh, excuse me, Mr. High-and-Mighty. I forgot that you’re the King of Right and the purest one of all.”
He just rolled his eyes, his hair falling across his face in that gorgeous way that Hermione absolutely hated and loved at the same time, “Well, how else is a pureblood supposed to act? Can’t rough around like Weasel-bee and Pothead, can I now? It’d give me a bad image.”
Hermione growled. She knew that he just said those obnoxious comment to get her riled up. But, though she knew, she could never stop herself from getting angry anyway.
“You’re so prejudiced!”
He turned and pinned her with his stormy, gray eyes, “I am not prejudiced…” Then, slowly, he broke out into a smirk, “I just simply hate everyone.”
Hermione, feeling a little shot down, stepped back and cried out in frustration, storming into the kitchen.
Looking back on it, Hermione cracked a smile at how sarcastic and narcissistic he was. And the only reason that he did it was because he absolutely adored seeing her angry. It was one of his most favorite pastimes - literally.
But, Merlin, how she adored him. Even against her better judgment, she always ran right back to him. But it was all worth it.
Sighing, she placed another set of white lilies on top of the grave, and looked at the slab. It was unmarked. She fumed in anger but let it subside as she took out her wand and started to carve in beautiful calligraphy.
DRACO MALFOY
1986-2009
Loving and caring man; even when no one was watching.
George read what she wrote aloud and a small smirk crept up on his features. He looked down at the crouching Hermione and stroked her hair. She stood up and nodded at him. George nodded back before they all turned around and headed back to the car.
Hermione kept her head down the whole trip back to her empty apartment. Concentrating so hard so the image of her lover’s face wouldn’t fade into the deep corners of her mind.
She opened her eyes slowly and looked down at her hand, the ring he gave her glinting the sunlight.
She would never take it off.
For that was the only true part of him left; other than the moving pictures at home.
And she would never, ever let that part of him die from her.