My Savior

BY : ShelbieRae
Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione
Dragon prints: 16338
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter world or anything by J.K Rowling. She owns the rights to the books, movies, and plots. I do not make money off of the fandom.

A/N: Disclaimer. I do not own the wonderful world of Harry Potter,or anything by J.K. Rowling. She owns all things Harry Potter and the rights to the books and movies. If only right? Enjoy!

Pain. All she felt was pain. "What else did you take?" a voice screeched above her. She tried to speak, to scream even. She couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't speak. There was only pain.

Then she felt the cool metal of the dagger digging into the skin of her arm. A fresh wave of tears and screams washed over her. Maniacal laughter surrounded her. A sort of darkness surrounded her vision and all she could think about was how easy it would be to just let go. To let the darkness take her; to give up.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, the pain dulled to a slight throb. Hermione felt disconnected from her body. She couldn't control anything, she couldn't even stand. Silence. Dead silence. Somehow, in the back of her mind she knew this should worry her. But her mind couldn't even process the smallest of thoughts.

Click, click. The sound of high-heeled boots struck a hardwood floor and stopped right beside her. Suddenly, she heard deadly words fall from a woman's mouth and saw a blinding green light flash across her eyes…

Hermione shot up in bed, screaming. The place where she had been laying was damp with sweat. The sheets were twisted and knotted around her legs. Shaking, she climbed out of bed, grabbed her wand from under her pillow, and crept down the stairs of Number 12 Grimwauld Place, where her and Harry had temporarily moved in after the War, so that the Weasley’s could have time to grieve in peace.

As she made her way down the hallways of the old, rickety place, she examined and noted all of the progress that had been made in ridding the house of the creepy, dark objects and the loud, obnoxious portraits of the Black family.

She tiptoed into the kitchen only to find Harry already sitting up staring into the fire.

Hermione knew that Harry hadn't been sleeping very well since the Final Battle. It had been a month and a half and both he and Hermione were still plagued by nightmares. While Hermione's dreams consisted of Draco Malfoy's deranged aunt torturing her in Malfoy Manor, Harry's were about all the death, everybody who died for him. She knew the guilt still ate at him every day. She frequently heard him wake up screaming in the night, yelling out names of the deceased. Friends. Practically family.

She wove her way through the cabinets to sit next to Harry at the table. "Can't sleep?" she asked him quietly. He shook his head and answered, "By the sounds of your dreams you couldn't either." She shook her head sadly.

They sat in silence for a while till Hermione finally spoke up, "Penny for your thoughts?" Hermione liked muggle sayings like that. They brought about some normalcy after the year she had had. Harry laughed lightly. "I don't know Hermione. I'm just at loss for what to do now that He's finally gone. I mean I know I'm going to take Kingsley's offer and become an auror, but I just feel like it's all so pointless now. Like anything I do now won't make a difference.”

Hermione knew how he felt. The war had affected many people in various ways. Of course Harry had been affected more than most, but there was still loss… still mourning in the Wizarding World. If one were to walk through Diagon Alley, there was celebration yes, but there were also several funerals, several broken hearts.

The one that haunted Hermione the most, strangely enough, was Draco Malfoy. She had seen a picture of him the Daily Prophet after his and his mother’s trial, in which both she and Harry had testified in for them, and the look in his eyes was the saddest thing she had ever seen. Both him and his mother had been set free, but the look in his eyes would have told an onlooker something different. Like they were about to lock him up. Like he had no hope for life left. Like there was nothing in this god forsaken world that could save his soul from cracking into several fragments. Hermione had only seen that look in one other person, and that had been when she was looking in the mirror.

A few weeks after the war, Hermione had gone to Australia to find her parents. She visited all the necessary places before finally looking for them where she had sent them.It took her two weeks to finally find them. In the St. Augustine Cemetery. The moment she saw their names carved permanently into the stone, she fell to her knees. She could no longer hold herself up. She was so full of despair. She had stayed in the town for a few days and laid some flowers on her parents grave. A proper goodbye. Though the cause of death that had been officially reported had been that their hearts had simply just stopped, she could only guess that it was simply the Ministry covering their asses.

She had returned two weeks ago, tears still streaming down her face. Harry, in the process of walking down the stairs, didn't say a word. He didn't have to. They'd been so close so long he knew without her telling him.

He had held her all night till she had cried herself dry.

Harry spoke again, bringing her back to the present. "Are you going to take McGonagall's offer and finish your schooling?" Hermione nodded, "I sent my acceptance to her yesterday." Harry nodded and laughed. "I'm sure you'll blow through it. The Brightest Witch of Our Age. Would not have survived without you out there Hermione.  " he praised her while he slung an arm around her shoulders. She laughed in agreement. They sat in comfortable silence for the rest of the night, talking here and there, about little things, and about what was in store for them, till the sun came up.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed!



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