(no subject)
Author: Irisri
Title: The Two Worlds We Live In
Rating: PG right now
Summary: And how she wished now she hadn’t been so much a coward that she’d left her husband in the dead of night.
Pairing: Draco/Hermione, side pairings of Ron/Hermione
Words: 787
Prompt: Leaving - My Choice (dhr100
Prompts Completed: 36/100
Warnings: AU
Disclaimers: I own nothing, JKR and Warner Brothers and whoever else involved owns all, no profit is being made except for my own personal pleasure. So please don’t sue me.
Leaves littered the forest floor, and as the wind grew angrier, they blew and lifted before falling when the gods had lost their mad for the time being. Times had changed, she thought, and fingered the fallen red leaf that had grown brittle. She closed her fist over it, opened her palm, and saw the little, almost powdery remains.
Her eyes scanned the forest, then looked overhead, at the sky, or what she could see of it, and the calm darkening of her world. How long had it been, she wondered now, since she’d run away from everything and everyone who had mattered to her?
She couldn’t remember, nor did she want to. She could still remember their faces, the faces that instead of being angry and dark with rage, they were laughing, grinning, and eyes were filled with mirth. Because that was how she’d left them. They hadn’t known it would be the last time they’d see her. Alive, anyway. They couldn’t have known.
And how she wished now she hadn’t been so much a coward that she left in the dead of night without a word to even her husband. And how she missed her husband. She closed her eyes against the pain, the pain that he’d found her anyway. He’d let her go. She could still remember the icy coldness of the formal letter, telling her about the divorce, and all she had to do was sign her signature when the paper arrived.
He didn’t try to track her, and that hurt. The papers had come, as he’d said they would, and she signed them. There had been no tears, though they had threatened, and she had breathed a sigh of relief at the knowing, or at least the formal knowledge, that he had moved on. She wanted him to, she reminded herself as bitter jealousy rolled through her. She needed him to. How could she live knowing she’d left him and he hadn’t left her, hadn’t moved on? It would tear her to bits. Sometimes it did.
She couldn’t explain her reasoning for leaving, or leaving like she did. But she’d had to. That was something she realized, had realized for a long time. Something had been tugging her, and it hadn’t been an urge, and it hadn’t been longing. It had been something more. She still didn’t know why she was here, or why she didn’t leave when she could.
A rustling and the cracking of leaves broke the silence. She tensed. She’d been here long enough to tell an animal scurrying along the floor or stalking its prey from a person tromping through the forest. She stood stock-still, knowing she couldn’t move without making noise as well. Then, as suddenly as the sound had started, it stopped.
“Hello, Granger.”
She jumped. It had been so long since she’d heard that name, or any name for that matter. Time had been filled with the voice of silence, and her own unused unless she was muttering to herself. Slowly, she turned around, fully ready to face the voice that was filled with snide mocking.
“Hello,” she whispered, her eyes staring into those of someone who’d left long before her. His eyes were the same, though they seemed older, wiser. His face was no longer perfect, now it was marred by a scar slapped across his forehead, stubble along his jaw and chin, his skin no longer looked smooth as a young girl’s. “It’s been a long time,” she said after she cleared her throat.
A smile. “Hasn’t it?” he stepped forward, she stepped back. The smile vanished, and he looked slightly annoyed. “Are we playing this game again, Granger?”
“It’s never been a game,” she whispered. “I want to know where you’ve been.”
His eyes became hooded. “I cannot tell you that.”
“Then tell me why you left.”
He remained guarded, but gave her a twisted smile. “I am here the same reason you are. I am not the only one who left someone I loved.”
“Don’t speak of him,” she spat.
He nodded his head. “As you wish.” He turned away. “Perhaps I should leave.”
She almost wept, and she was appalled by it. The fact she didn’t want him to go was a sure sign she’d been alone too long if she craved his company. It was the want that had her voice snapping like a whip. “Yes.”
He paused a moment, unsure of what she wanted. “As you wish,” he repeated. “Granger.”
She looked back at him, surprised to see his body becoming transparent. “My Queen says to tell you it’s almost time.”
She found herself looking at an empty space of air. And she wondered, almost time for what?
Title: The Two Worlds We Live In
Rating: PG right now
Summary: And how she wished now she hadn’t been so much a coward that she’d left her husband in the dead of night.
Pairing: Draco/Hermione, side pairings of Ron/Hermione
Words: 787
Prompt: Leaving - My Choice (dhr100
Prompts Completed: 36/100
Warnings: AU
Disclaimers: I own nothing, JKR and Warner Brothers and whoever else involved owns all, no profit is being made except for my own personal pleasure. So please don’t sue me.
Leaves littered the forest floor, and as the wind grew angrier, they blew and lifted before falling when the gods had lost their mad for the time being. Times had changed, she thought, and fingered the fallen red leaf that had grown brittle. She closed her fist over it, opened her palm, and saw the little, almost powdery remains.
Her eyes scanned the forest, then looked overhead, at the sky, or what she could see of it, and the calm darkening of her world. How long had it been, she wondered now, since she’d run away from everything and everyone who had mattered to her?
She couldn’t remember, nor did she want to. She could still remember their faces, the faces that instead of being angry and dark with rage, they were laughing, grinning, and eyes were filled with mirth. Because that was how she’d left them. They hadn’t known it would be the last time they’d see her. Alive, anyway. They couldn’t have known.
And how she wished now she hadn’t been so much a coward that she left in the dead of night without a word to even her husband. And how she missed her husband. She closed her eyes against the pain, the pain that he’d found her anyway. He’d let her go. She could still remember the icy coldness of the formal letter, telling her about the divorce, and all she had to do was sign her signature when the paper arrived.
He didn’t try to track her, and that hurt. The papers had come, as he’d said they would, and she signed them. There had been no tears, though they had threatened, and she had breathed a sigh of relief at the knowing, or at least the formal knowledge, that he had moved on. She wanted him to, she reminded herself as bitter jealousy rolled through her. She needed him to. How could she live knowing she’d left him and he hadn’t left her, hadn’t moved on? It would tear her to bits. Sometimes it did.
She couldn’t explain her reasoning for leaving, or leaving like she did. But she’d had to. That was something she realized, had realized for a long time. Something had been tugging her, and it hadn’t been an urge, and it hadn’t been longing. It had been something more. She still didn’t know why she was here, or why she didn’t leave when she could.
A rustling and the cracking of leaves broke the silence. She tensed. She’d been here long enough to tell an animal scurrying along the floor or stalking its prey from a person tromping through the forest. She stood stock-still, knowing she couldn’t move without making noise as well. Then, as suddenly as the sound had started, it stopped.
“Hello, Granger.”
She jumped. It had been so long since she’d heard that name, or any name for that matter. Time had been filled with the voice of silence, and her own unused unless she was muttering to herself. Slowly, she turned around, fully ready to face the voice that was filled with snide mocking.
“Hello,” she whispered, her eyes staring into those of someone who’d left long before her. His eyes were the same, though they seemed older, wiser. His face was no longer perfect, now it was marred by a scar slapped across his forehead, stubble along his jaw and chin, his skin no longer looked smooth as a young girl’s. “It’s been a long time,” she said after she cleared her throat.
A smile. “Hasn’t it?” he stepped forward, she stepped back. The smile vanished, and he looked slightly annoyed. “Are we playing this game again, Granger?”
“It’s never been a game,” she whispered. “I want to know where you’ve been.”
His eyes became hooded. “I cannot tell you that.”
“Then tell me why you left.”
He remained guarded, but gave her a twisted smile. “I am here the same reason you are. I am not the only one who left someone I loved.”
“Don’t speak of him,” she spat.
He nodded his head. “As you wish.” He turned away. “Perhaps I should leave.”
She almost wept, and she was appalled by it. The fact she didn’t want him to go was a sure sign she’d been alone too long if she craved his company. It was the want that had her voice snapping like a whip. “Yes.”
He paused a moment, unsure of what she wanted. “As you wish,” he repeated. “Granger.”
She looked back at him, surprised to see his body becoming transparent. “My Queen says to tell you it’s almost time.”
She found herself looking at an empty space of air. And she wondered, almost time for what?