All it Ever Does is Rain | By : ariel Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 1262 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
All it ever does is Rain (sequel
to “To Hermione”)
All it ever does is
rain. Hermione walked through the
wet graveyard thinking those thoughts.
It never stops raining anymore.
The world was crying and everyone in it joined in, tears for the fallen,
tears for themselves, and tears for the unborn that are coming into a world
full of secret misery.
Secret misery. Hermione shook her head at the irony. No one knew secret, personal misery quite
like her. Harry and Ron didn’t, she
couldn’t tell them. She couldn’t tell
them about the secret friend she lost.
She couldn’t tell them about Draco.
The world was coming to an end, and yet she still thought
about him. Hermione looked around the
graveyard. Fresh graves littered the
grass. Last minute graves. Improper.
Some burials didn’t even receive true funerals, not when there was
another attack.
I’m so tired of being
here
Suppressed by all my
childish fears
Hermione was alive, but she felt dead. Her best friends would surly give her a
lecture when she returned to the safe house, if she returned. Maybe that’s why she was out there, maybe to
see how invincible she really was, daring some cloaked figure to step out of
the shadows and challenge the former Head Girl.
Head Girl. That was
three years ago. Three years ago today,
in fact. Draco died three years ago,
saving Hermione’s life. Draco was dead
before he hit the ground, long dead before she could even tell him she loved
him, before she even read his letter.
She loved him. Lord, she loved him. Maybe she loved him the samy shy she loved
Ron or Harry, but Hermione didn’t think so.
This was a different sort of agony that ripped her heart apart. She missed him with a passion. A searing burning in her chest that was
constantly with her. Hermione half hoped
he would come back as a ghost. A ghost
of his former self, but still there in spirit, but she knew better. She knew Draco didn’t fear death. Draco was brought up to embrace it, and he
even wanted it at one time.
The first day they had a true conversation, without the
snide remarks, was the day Draco almost died.
He was alone in the astronomy tower, alone he thought at least, but
Hermione was there, there first, under a cloak that belonged to her best
friend.
She figured that Draco had come to scout the highest tower
for snog spg space, she never expected him to throw himself out the window,
headfirst to the ground.
Draco did not achieve his end though; the old school had
special charms to ward off accident, or not accidents, such as falling to the
ground. an>Han>Hermione knew this of course,
she read it in Hogwarts: A History.
After Draco’s form floated back to the safety of the castle
floor, Hermione took the cloak off and reveled herself. Draco tried to deny it, of course, but you
can’t argue with a running jump.
And so a strange sort of bond was formed. Draco finally had a friend, but the world
never knew.
A secret friendship.
To Hermione, it was all a bit of a story. Girl meets boy, boy turns over a new
leaf. But the girl doesn’t know the
demons the boy battles, she never really would.
Draco had told her that she deserved to live. He never said whether he didn’t, or did, only
that she needed to live for him.
Hermione tried, she really did.
For three blasted years she tried, but the sun hasn’t shined since the
day he died.
If you have to leave
I wish that you would
just leave
Cause your presence
still lingers here
And it won’t leave me
alone
Voldemort unleashed Hell onto the world. Vampires prowled the very ground Hermione was
standing on. Muggles were dying out, their were not many left. Dementors freely kissed whomever they came
across, but Hermione could fight them with a fierce patronus. A patronus of a strong dragon, the only clue
Harry and Ron would ever get.
Hermione was once a happy person. Before her parents died, she lived a charmed
life, both literalnd nnd not. She was
quite well off, in the muggle world, and she was making a name for herself in
the Wizard world. At one point she
wanted to be mistress on magic, but the late Cornelius Fudge turned her off on
that job, so she dedicated her time to being the best Auror in the business,
with Harry and Ron at her side.
It was always the three of them. Hermione wouldn’t be crushed if it was any
other way…but Ron. Poor Ron.
Earlier that year, Ron asked Hermione to marry him. They weren’t dating, they weren’t even
talking about dating, but Ron gave a long speech about how they needed to seize
the moment, to use their time now, before it was too late.
Hermione burst into tears when he asked her, she completely
lost control and screamed and yelled.
She was harboring a huge secret her friends didn’t know existed, and she
was buckling under the pressure. She
screamed at Ron for being so blind to the fact that they were in the middle of
a war, a war that wasn’t going to end, and he had the nerve to ask her to marry
him- to break apart their group of three and to take her away from her only
memories of Draco.
It was unfair of her to turn on Ron like that. They made up quickly and Ron brushed it off
as just the pressure of the war, no doubt he would try again another time.
These wounds won’t
seem to healo:p>
This pain is just too
real
There is just too much
that time cannot erase
Hermione’s wet hair clung to her face as she maneuvered
around the new gravestones. Peter
Pettigrew. Remus killed him, and
Hermione found she was glad he did. Cho
Chang, dead by the hand of Bellatrix Lestrange, she stood in a crucio for half
an hour before she died. pour transformer un ennemi en ami
Hermione gave a small smile in his memory. Dumbledore had chosen the French inscription
for Draco’s grave. Love is the only force strong enough to turn an enemy into a friend.
“Oh Draco,” Hermione
said, calling to her fallen friend.
“Don’t you see? You haven’t saved
me from anything. This world is
wrong. Everything is wrong, and
terrible. There is no beauty anymore, no
love and no light. You were right,
Draco, the light side can’t win this time.”
Hermione reached into a pocket in her cloak and pulled out a
bottle of liquid. The draught of
sleeping death. Hermione knew that one
drop of this and she would sleep for days, maybe months, but taking the whole
thing- well, she wouldn’t wake up.
You used to captivate
me
By your resonating
light
Now I'm bound by
They life you left
behind
Your face it haunts
My once pleasant
dreams
Your voice it chased
away
All the sanity in me
The wind blew around her as she toyed with the bottle. The rain kept coming, splashing her face sendsending
chills down her spine, and suddenly, Hermione felt as though she wasn’t
alone. There was someone in the
graveyard with her.
The feeling was overwhelming, but as Hermione looked about
her, no one could be seen. A feeling ran
through her body, like she jumped into a pool of freezing water.
“Draco?” Hermione
asked quietly, her teeth beginning to chatter.
“Draco, are you there?”
There was no answer, but the wind blew fiercer, giving
Hermione hope.
“Draco, I miss you,” Hermione said to the air, throwing
caution to the wind. “I miss you so
much, and I can’t help it. Why can’t I
live anymore? I’m dead inside Draco, and
now I just want to rest.”
Hermione steadied her fingers and started to untwist the top
of the bottle, but just as she managed to unscrew the top, the wind blew her
backwards, causing her to drop the poison.
“What!” Hermione
cried. “Please! Let me rest, I need it,
please!”
Hermione felt the air around her condense, as if trying to
take a physical form, but couldn’t.
“Draco?” Hermione
called again. The wind blew.
“You don’t want me to die, even now, do you?” Hermione asked. The passersby, she would seem crazy, but
Hermione didn’t care anymore.
“Do you still believe?
Do you still believe that the world is going to get better? Do you believe I will ever be happy?”
Hermione didn’t get an answer, but she felt it. She felt like she was being filled with
hope. Letting out all her frustration at
this three year old grave
I’ve tried so hard to
tell myself that you’re gone
But though you’re
still with me
I’ve been
alone...alone
“Draco…” Hermione
whispered. “I still miss you, God…I miss
you so much, but I can’t rest, please tell me everything will be alright. Tell me that in a couple years these days
will seem like someone else’s life…please Draco”
The wind blew and the rain came down. Hermione sat on the ground with her head in
her hands. She came here with every
intention of not coming back to the land of the living, but she felt him.
She felt him all around her. Comforting
her, whispering nothingness in her ear.
She felt his spirit, even though she couldn’t feel his being.
Finally, after a short eternity, Hermione struggled to her
feet and faced the cold stone of Draco’s grave.
“I’m going to try,”
She said. “I’m not going to ever
forget you. I’ll be back here next year,
I promise. Goodbye Draco.”
Hermione turned away, brushing back the tears in her
eyes. The wind was still howling, and as
the small brunette left the graveyard, a soft voice could be heard…
Don’t let me have died
in vain…Hermione…
~
A year later Harry
finally killed Voldemort. Dumbledore
died, and Ron asked Hermione to marry him again. This time Hermione said yes.
A year after that Harry and Ginny married. And Hermione and Ron had their first
child. A little brown haired, blue eyed
boy named Draco.
That’s when the entire story came out. The secret friendship. The battle.
The yearly disappearances of Hermione.
When Draco was born, Hermione told her husband and her best friend everything.
~
“Hush darling,”
Hermione cooed to her small child.
It was around three in the morning, and the whole world was asleep,
besides Hermione and her little Draco.
The window to the nursery was open, and a breeze came
through the blue curtains.
“Let me tell you a story,”
Hermione whispered. “I’ll tell
you about the man you’re named after.
His name was Draco Malfoy, and he
saved my life…”
Hermione talked to her soto tto the morning, long past since
he fell asleep. At dawn she waiting for the
dreary grey to signify a new day, but today it was different.
Hermione, who was still holding Draco, walked over to the
window and looked out in wonder.
The sunrise was brilliant.
Orange and reds and yellows
were exploding in the sky and it took Hermione’s breath away. It wasn’t raining. For the first time in years, the sky was
clear and it wasn’t raining.
Hermione pushed the curtains back some more and welcomed the
familiar breeze.
Thank you
When you cried I’d
Wipe away all of your
tears
When you scream I’d
Fight away all of your
fears
I held your hand for
all of these years
But you still held on
me…
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