Bitter Tears [PG-13] for ldymusyc
Title: Bitter Tears
Author/Artist: ebilgatoloco
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I disclaim ownership, and intellectual rights of the HP series, owned by JK Rowling. I am making no money or profit of any kind. I also disclaim from the ownership of the song lyrics “Bitter Tears” by INXS, which I used as inspiration for the title and part of the plotline as well as the intro/outro.
Warnings: Character Death, Angst
Summary: Caught up in a storm of emotions will they ever be able to forgive the other?
Notes: I wrote this for ldymusyc and I hope she likes it. I’m not sure if I met your prompt but I tried. I enjoyed writing it. Thanks hpsmall for the last minute betaing. I owe you since I know you don’t beta!
In the mist
Of my endless search
The best in life
Becomes clear
Heavy silence permeated the couple like an iron curtain cast between the two; they sat staring at the void of deep darkness threatening to envelop their hearts. Carefully avoiding each other’s eyes, and ignoring the other’s presence, they struggled for words that couldn’t make their existence known as they lay hidden behind the fresh pain of their loss. Tears spilled forth from her brown eyes, leaving a quiet trail of bitterness in their wake. He looked guiltily away, pretending he couldn’t hear her gentle cries, his own heart clenching painfully. Her soft sobs shook her frame but she sniffs her pride back into her persona determined to portray forth her false bravado. Standing abruptly, she futilely wiped at the salty mess on her cheeks as they burned with embarrassment and shame for showing him weakness.
“I need to go,” she murmured into the darkness, unsure of how she would get home in her current distressed state. She didn’t want to Splinch herself over him. She’d already been to St. Mungo’s earlier that month and didn’t need a relapse. Healer McCormick wouldn’t be happy if he saw her in the halls of the old hospital anytime soon. He had specifically stated her body needed time to recover and at the top of his list of recommendations were stress-free related activities. However, determined to escape the feelings of self-hatred that haunted her, Hermione had come to Draco because she wanted to hate him as much as she hated herself.
Sighing, Draco tentatively reached for her, but his traitorous hand stopped him an inch from her arm as she began walking to the fireplace. He dropped his hand, heavy with regret and anger at his weakness, knowing she wasn’t his no more. She never truly belonged to anyone, but only to herself.
“I’ll take you home,” he offered, still trying to be a gentleman for his own sake more than hers. He needed to know if she would make it home safe, that she’d forgive him somehow, someday, for his trespasses and sins towards her and him.
“No,” was her angry reply and didn’t turn around knowing she’d hex him if she did. She hated his cool demeanor and lack of emotion to the current situation.
The resentment and hurt of his rejection was finally beginning to settle deep in her stomach and flaring to life in her thoughts, words, and actions. As much as she wanted to hate him, she wanted him to feel her pain. Why wasn’t he hurting as much as she was? She wanted him to hurt like she did. She wanted Draco to feel the emptiness deep within her; to know how it felt to be dead inside. Instead, he had looked ahead, avoiding her piercing stare when she’d told him the reason for the unexpected visit months after they had officially broken up. His stony silence at her announcement had been overwhelming, and the pink that shaded his cheeks signaled his anger and blame towards her. Hermione couldn’t deal with it anymore when she burst into tears and he looked away; once again, she tried running from her pain.
“Hermione, please, let me take you home. You’re in no state to Apparate by yourself,” he pleaded, standing up as well, slowly moving closer to her.
“I can manage alone, Malfoy!” she spat angrily, marching quickly to the fireplace and searching desperately for the Floo powder in an effort to escape his person. Tears blurred her vision as she swiped the mantel, knocking over the green powder. It spilled all over the flawlessly-clean-wood floor, a spiteful spirit grinning inside her.
Before she could kick the rest of the powder around so that it would spread over the rest of the floor in a very vindictive manner for her character, she felt his presence behind her, hovering protectively in that insufferable way of his, yet not touching her. Dropping her head in defeat, she sighed heavily while closing her eyes as bitter tears slipped past because he was so close to her and yet so far at the same time. She wished they could go back to a more carefree time in their lives when they used to hold hands beneath the sun and wish upon stars. But he had made sure that those times were gone from their lives. Their frail relationship began to move from an experimental fling, scorned by many, to an earnest emotion that neither was willing to admit existed. The words he had uttered three months ago still stung her heart and soul, and nothing would repair the damage that was done. She’d seen it in his face, the malicious pain he wanted to cause her as if reveling in her tears. It was of no surprise that he’d have no reaction to the words she shared with him tonight. A fresh wave of sorrow washed over her and she closed her fists trying to draw the pain away.
Draco’s shadow loomed over her for several seconds as the heat between their bodies increased exponentially. Neither one moved, afraid of the other’s reaction. A slight movement signaled to him that she was clenching her fists. Silently, he reached over her shoulder, gently grazing her cheek in the process, in order to grab a pinch of the Floo powder that hadn’t spilled to the floor. As his fingers closed around the soft grains of sand, she fell backwards into his chest, fainting from the emotional exhaustion of the day. He caught her easily, cradling her head against his shoulder, breathing in her scent. His heart beat painfully as he carefully carried her to the nearest sofa. As he lay her down, Draco called for his house-elf Mopsy and asked her to prepare the guest room for Hermione. Biting his lip, Draco looked down at the sprawled figure of the woman he’d once given his heart to. In his mind he’d thought that breaking it off with her three months ago would have spared her the pain of dealing with his prejudiced parents, and the silent treatment from her friends. Instead, he’d hurt her more than he could have ever imagined. Had he known that she was with child, with his heir, perhaps he wouldn’t have been so hasty to deny his feelings to himself or her. Perhaps, he would have survived.
As slight tremors shook Hermione in her sleep, Draco swallowed the bitterness that crept into his heart. He’d been selfish and arrogant by pushing her away. If he’d known, he would have stayed regardless of the arguments and bickering that would have ensued between them. At least then they would have been able to sustain her pregnancy…together. Alone, a witch wasn’t able to carry a magical pregnancy to full term. How hadn’t she known? She had been an insufferable know-it-all in school. And if she had, why hadn’t she come to him earlier? Was she arrogant enough to think her magic was that powerful? He had been angry when she told him earlier that evening the reason for her visit. But he’d also been ashamed of his own behavior. What reason did she have to come to him after discovering her pregnancy? He’d given her none.
Scowling in disgust at his own behavior, he didn’t hear Mopsy announce it was ready. Careful not to jostle her, he gently picked her up and carried her to the resplendent guest room next to his. After tucking her in, Draco stood next to the bed, lost in thought observing as gentle sobs wracked her body spontaneously. He wanted her to rest but felt guilty for leaving her alone. Therefore, he crawled into bed next to her and carefully cradled her, molding his body to fit hers. Tentatively, he reached over her body with his arm and splayed his fingers over her still slightly curved stomach. Hot tears rolled down his cheeks, full of shame, hurt, and anger, that there wasn’t a child within her no more. As he closed his eyes to guard off the surge of emotion running through his body, he was overcome with grief. The emotional roller coaster of the day caught up with him, and he too, drifted off to sleep, clutching tightly to the woman he still loved.
***
Hermione woke up the next day to soft puffs of air gracing her neck. Disoriented, she didn’t recognize the bedroom or the bed as hers. However, when she tried to move, an arm tightened around her waist.
“Did it hurt?” a soft voice she’d recognize anywhere asked.
“Yes,” she croaked, her throat dry from crying.
“What…what did it feel like?” he tentatively continued, moving his fingers in lazy circles across her abdomen.
Hesitant to answer, she tried to move away but he continued his stronghold of her.
“Please, Hermione, let me share your pain. I know…that I don’t deserve it, but I’d like to know.”
Tears welled up in her eyes, the memory of waking up amongst blood soaked sheets and the panic that ensued been too much. The pain was raw and refreshed as she recalled the Healer’s words: “You’re experiencing a miscarriage, Ms. Granger. I’m sorry to tell you that your magic wasn’t enough.” She had screamed, cried, and hexed everything in that sterile hospital room until she was sedated by the staff. She’d been too numb the rest of the time to fully comprehend the situation, but a part of her was gnawing on the inside, clawing at the unfairness of it all.
So lost was she in the past that she didn’t realize she’d close her eyes shut until she felt his move around. She couldn’t face him. She didn’t want to know he understood her pain. He couldn’t know. He wasn’t there. Draco hadn’t felt the life growing inside of her.
“Hermione,” Draco whispered, moving over her so that they’d face each other. Gently, he moved his warm hand over her cheek, softly caressing the skin she allowed him to touch without flinching.
Opening her eyes, Hermione was shocked to find sorrowful grey eyes staring back at her. Emotions flickered back and forth between them: hope, anger, resentment, and love. She hadn’t been ready for the assault. Gasping for breath, she felt the burden she’d shouldered for the past three months didn’t have to be hers alone.
“Empty,” she finally replied. He nodded once before holding her closer to him. They lay together locked in an embrace full of promises. Enjoying the quiet words exchanged between their souls, they began drifting off to sleep again, caught up in the dreams of tomorrow.
The rest just begins
To fade by itself
That's a trick I learnt
Though it took so long
ferretbush_post is the account the mods use to post gifts, it has not authored or created any of the gifts.
Author/Artist: ebilgatoloco
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I disclaim ownership, and intellectual rights of the HP series, owned by JK Rowling. I am making no money or profit of any kind. I also disclaim from the ownership of the song lyrics “Bitter Tears” by INXS, which I used as inspiration for the title and part of the plotline as well as the intro/outro.
Warnings: Character Death, Angst
Summary: Caught up in a storm of emotions will they ever be able to forgive the other?
Notes: I wrote this for ldymusyc and I hope she likes it. I’m not sure if I met your prompt but I tried. I enjoyed writing it. Thanks hpsmall for the last minute betaing. I owe you since I know you don’t beta!
In the mist
Of my endless search
The best in life
Becomes clear
Heavy silence permeated the couple like an iron curtain cast between the two; they sat staring at the void of deep darkness threatening to envelop their hearts. Carefully avoiding each other’s eyes, and ignoring the other’s presence, they struggled for words that couldn’t make their existence known as they lay hidden behind the fresh pain of their loss. Tears spilled forth from her brown eyes, leaving a quiet trail of bitterness in their wake. He looked guiltily away, pretending he couldn’t hear her gentle cries, his own heart clenching painfully. Her soft sobs shook her frame but she sniffs her pride back into her persona determined to portray forth her false bravado. Standing abruptly, she futilely wiped at the salty mess on her cheeks as they burned with embarrassment and shame for showing him weakness.
“I need to go,” she murmured into the darkness, unsure of how she would get home in her current distressed state. She didn’t want to Splinch herself over him. She’d already been to St. Mungo’s earlier that month and didn’t need a relapse. Healer McCormick wouldn’t be happy if he saw her in the halls of the old hospital anytime soon. He had specifically stated her body needed time to recover and at the top of his list of recommendations were stress-free related activities. However, determined to escape the feelings of self-hatred that haunted her, Hermione had come to Draco because she wanted to hate him as much as she hated herself.
Sighing, Draco tentatively reached for her, but his traitorous hand stopped him an inch from her arm as she began walking to the fireplace. He dropped his hand, heavy with regret and anger at his weakness, knowing she wasn’t his no more. She never truly belonged to anyone, but only to herself.
“I’ll take you home,” he offered, still trying to be a gentleman for his own sake more than hers. He needed to know if she would make it home safe, that she’d forgive him somehow, someday, for his trespasses and sins towards her and him.
“No,” was her angry reply and didn’t turn around knowing she’d hex him if she did. She hated his cool demeanor and lack of emotion to the current situation.
The resentment and hurt of his rejection was finally beginning to settle deep in her stomach and flaring to life in her thoughts, words, and actions. As much as she wanted to hate him, she wanted him to feel her pain. Why wasn’t he hurting as much as she was? She wanted him to hurt like she did. She wanted Draco to feel the emptiness deep within her; to know how it felt to be dead inside. Instead, he had looked ahead, avoiding her piercing stare when she’d told him the reason for the unexpected visit months after they had officially broken up. His stony silence at her announcement had been overwhelming, and the pink that shaded his cheeks signaled his anger and blame towards her. Hermione couldn’t deal with it anymore when she burst into tears and he looked away; once again, she tried running from her pain.
“Hermione, please, let me take you home. You’re in no state to Apparate by yourself,” he pleaded, standing up as well, slowly moving closer to her.
“I can manage alone, Malfoy!” she spat angrily, marching quickly to the fireplace and searching desperately for the Floo powder in an effort to escape his person. Tears blurred her vision as she swiped the mantel, knocking over the green powder. It spilled all over the flawlessly-clean-wood floor, a spiteful spirit grinning inside her.
Before she could kick the rest of the powder around so that it would spread over the rest of the floor in a very vindictive manner for her character, she felt his presence behind her, hovering protectively in that insufferable way of his, yet not touching her. Dropping her head in defeat, she sighed heavily while closing her eyes as bitter tears slipped past because he was so close to her and yet so far at the same time. She wished they could go back to a more carefree time in their lives when they used to hold hands beneath the sun and wish upon stars. But he had made sure that those times were gone from their lives. Their frail relationship began to move from an experimental fling, scorned by many, to an earnest emotion that neither was willing to admit existed. The words he had uttered three months ago still stung her heart and soul, and nothing would repair the damage that was done. She’d seen it in his face, the malicious pain he wanted to cause her as if reveling in her tears. It was of no surprise that he’d have no reaction to the words she shared with him tonight. A fresh wave of sorrow washed over her and she closed her fists trying to draw the pain away.
Draco’s shadow loomed over her for several seconds as the heat between their bodies increased exponentially. Neither one moved, afraid of the other’s reaction. A slight movement signaled to him that she was clenching her fists. Silently, he reached over her shoulder, gently grazing her cheek in the process, in order to grab a pinch of the Floo powder that hadn’t spilled to the floor. As his fingers closed around the soft grains of sand, she fell backwards into his chest, fainting from the emotional exhaustion of the day. He caught her easily, cradling her head against his shoulder, breathing in her scent. His heart beat painfully as he carefully carried her to the nearest sofa. As he lay her down, Draco called for his house-elf Mopsy and asked her to prepare the guest room for Hermione. Biting his lip, Draco looked down at the sprawled figure of the woman he’d once given his heart to. In his mind he’d thought that breaking it off with her three months ago would have spared her the pain of dealing with his prejudiced parents, and the silent treatment from her friends. Instead, he’d hurt her more than he could have ever imagined. Had he known that she was with child, with his heir, perhaps he wouldn’t have been so hasty to deny his feelings to himself or her. Perhaps, he would have survived.
As slight tremors shook Hermione in her sleep, Draco swallowed the bitterness that crept into his heart. He’d been selfish and arrogant by pushing her away. If he’d known, he would have stayed regardless of the arguments and bickering that would have ensued between them. At least then they would have been able to sustain her pregnancy…together. Alone, a witch wasn’t able to carry a magical pregnancy to full term. How hadn’t she known? She had been an insufferable know-it-all in school. And if she had, why hadn’t she come to him earlier? Was she arrogant enough to think her magic was that powerful? He had been angry when she told him earlier that evening the reason for her visit. But he’d also been ashamed of his own behavior. What reason did she have to come to him after discovering her pregnancy? He’d given her none.
Scowling in disgust at his own behavior, he didn’t hear Mopsy announce it was ready. Careful not to jostle her, he gently picked her up and carried her to the resplendent guest room next to his. After tucking her in, Draco stood next to the bed, lost in thought observing as gentle sobs wracked her body spontaneously. He wanted her to rest but felt guilty for leaving her alone. Therefore, he crawled into bed next to her and carefully cradled her, molding his body to fit hers. Tentatively, he reached over her body with his arm and splayed his fingers over her still slightly curved stomach. Hot tears rolled down his cheeks, full of shame, hurt, and anger, that there wasn’t a child within her no more. As he closed his eyes to guard off the surge of emotion running through his body, he was overcome with grief. The emotional roller coaster of the day caught up with him, and he too, drifted off to sleep, clutching tightly to the woman he still loved.
***
Hermione woke up the next day to soft puffs of air gracing her neck. Disoriented, she didn’t recognize the bedroom or the bed as hers. However, when she tried to move, an arm tightened around her waist.
“Did it hurt?” a soft voice she’d recognize anywhere asked.
“Yes,” she croaked, her throat dry from crying.
“What…what did it feel like?” he tentatively continued, moving his fingers in lazy circles across her abdomen.
Hesitant to answer, she tried to move away but he continued his stronghold of her.
“Please, Hermione, let me share your pain. I know…that I don’t deserve it, but I’d like to know.”
Tears welled up in her eyes, the memory of waking up amongst blood soaked sheets and the panic that ensued been too much. The pain was raw and refreshed as she recalled the Healer’s words: “You’re experiencing a miscarriage, Ms. Granger. I’m sorry to tell you that your magic wasn’t enough.” She had screamed, cried, and hexed everything in that sterile hospital room until she was sedated by the staff. She’d been too numb the rest of the time to fully comprehend the situation, but a part of her was gnawing on the inside, clawing at the unfairness of it all.
So lost was she in the past that she didn’t realize she’d close her eyes shut until she felt his move around. She couldn’t face him. She didn’t want to know he understood her pain. He couldn’t know. He wasn’t there. Draco hadn’t felt the life growing inside of her.
“Hermione,” Draco whispered, moving over her so that they’d face each other. Gently, he moved his warm hand over her cheek, softly caressing the skin she allowed him to touch without flinching.
Opening her eyes, Hermione was shocked to find sorrowful grey eyes staring back at her. Emotions flickered back and forth between them: hope, anger, resentment, and love. She hadn’t been ready for the assault. Gasping for breath, she felt the burden she’d shouldered for the past three months didn’t have to be hers alone.
“Empty,” she finally replied. He nodded once before holding her closer to him. They lay together locked in an embrace full of promises. Enjoying the quiet words exchanged between their souls, they began drifting off to sleep again, caught up in the dreams of tomorrow.
The rest just begins
To fade by itself
That's a trick I learnt
Though it took so long
ferretbush_post is the account the mods use to post gifts, it has not authored or created any of the gifts.