13 Envelopes | By : TrinityLayne Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 1814 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by J.K Rowling. We are not making any money from this. |
Authors: TrinityLayne & Ravenesquesky (aka DragonFire10 here on FF)
Notes: This is before Deathly Hallows! (It NEVER happened)
Disclaimer: We own nothing but the plot (and 2 really nifty computers) All else belongs to JK...
It was time to go.
It was her last chance for one last dance...
Prologue
They would never be the same.
Harry sat at the table at Number 12 Grimmauld Place, sipping a cup of tea, glancing around the room. Nothing would be the same. A darkness hovered over them even in light of their victory. A shadow of those missing, those that will never return.
And yet their lives were supposed to continue...pick up where everything left off. Harry just sat there staring at his supply list for his last year at Hogwarts wondering how they were all supposed to go back as if they did not just fight in a war...as if they were still children through and through.
No, they would never be the same.
And those places at the dinner table will remain empty.
Mrs. Weasley entered from the kitchen door, food floating ahead of her and she gently set it in the middle of the table. Harry sighed, not really hungry and folded his supply list away. Ginny looked up from playing with Crookshanks, something she did often to try to distract herself from the loss around her.
"Theo, dear," Mrs. Weasley said. "Would you please take this tray up to her? Perhaps see if you can persuade her down here?"
Theodore Nott looked up from his own supply list and nodded. He didn't bother to fold the list, shoving it inside his jean's pocket as he stood. Pushing his hair out of his eyes, he grabbed the tray and turned, making the trek up the stairs of the old house, ignoring the pictures along the walls and the snide comments from the pureblood ancestors of the Black family.
He hesitated outside the door, pausing to gather his thoughts. She was on the other side of that door, drowning in her own grief and yet he waited...cause she was worth waiting for.
And he made a promise...
A promise to protect her...to watch her...to be there for her...to make her happy.
He knocked gently, just loud enough for her to hear, but there was no answer.
"Hermione?"
Still nothing.
Fear started to grip his heart. Had he failed so soon?
"Princesa?" He asked, almost in a whisper as if he knew.
Closing his eyes, he leaned his forehead against the door and whispered.
"Please, Princesa...please." He feared what he would find.
With a deep breath, he pulled away, balancing the tray in one hand as he slowly turned the knob.
He sat the tray down on a nearby table and looked around.
There he stood, running his hand through his messy hair, heart pounding as he stood in an empty room. The only movement, the wind pushing the sheer curtain floating elegantly in the room.
She was gone.
You know what to do... click and review... It is our drug of choice, and great motivation!
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