Even on my worst day,
Did I deserve, babe
All the hell you gave me?
“No one asked your opinion, you filthy little mudblood.”
Mudblood. Someone inferior. Someone with dirty blood. Someone who did not deserve magic.
A curse. A target on her back. A life sentence.
Or maybe, a young boy moulded by his father’s hatred for those who were not like him.
Someone who did not understand the gravity of his words. Someone blinded by his power.
An insult. More like a trifle. Something to make his schoolmates laugh.
Nothing too serious to worry about, right?
' Cause I loved you,
I swear I loved you
'Til my dying day.
A fifteen-year-old girl crying in her dormitory, her bedpost providing a safe haven for her with the curtains shut. Fully aware of the feelings she was developing for someone who did not deserve her. Someone with grey eyes carrying a thousand different emotions within, with his white-blond hair, pale skin and a tongue so mean it made Hermione’s heart tear open a little more each time he used it.
Hermione, who had untamable curly hair and whose face was covered in little freckles. The sweet scent she left behind her everywhere she went: he couldn’t quite name it, something fresh and... exciting. Hermione, with her olive skin and the mouth of an insufferable know-it-all.
Hermione, whose big brown eyes were Draco’s favourite feature. Those eyes, full of fire and fury. Always observing, contemplating, thinking, calculating. Sometimes he could see her brain work through them. Other times, for a fraction of a second, he would see the light dim, right after one of his snarky comments. He hated those moments, when he doubted his actions and words, because, eventually, he would find his mind drifting, wondering “what if…”.
He did not like that kind of thinking and neither would his father if he found out.
But the fifteen-year-old boy could not help himself, laying on his bed in the middle of the night.
Two souls pushed apart by decades of blood prejudices. Little did they know they would eventually find their way back together. It did not matter how hard fate was trying to keep them away from each other: their hearts were burning with longing desire in the exact same way.
And you’re the hero
Flying around
Saving face.
"You can't help yourself, can you, Granger?"
The sound of his leather shoes stomping onto the stone floor echoed in the empty hallway of the castle; his Slytherin robes ruffled with each step he took towards her direction.
"Just leave me alone, Malfoy." Hermione tried to walk faster, needing to be left alone.
She didn’t have the energy to face him. Not after everything that had happened in the last few days. She was still in pain, both physical and mental, and just wanted to go back to her dorm, finish packing her trunk and leave Hogwarts as soon as possible.
That day was one of those days when she was desperate for normalcy. She wanted to go back to her parents in Hampstead and act as if the Wizarding World didn’t even exist.
Apparently, Draco had decided to ruin her plans.
His legs were longer than hers and he reached her in no time. “Stop right now.” He hissed, grabbing and yanking her arm back. She whined at his roughness and stumbled on her feet, almost losing her balance and falling on the ground.
But Draco’s grip on her was like steel and the look he gave her was full of rage, making her stand still.
He breathed hard through his nose, examining her face and inching closer.
The boy repeated his question once more. “You really couldn’t have helped yourself? Following Potter right into his tomb.” He was fixated on her lips and his voice was barely a whisper.
Hermione believed she was hallucinating. This was surely the side effects of the relief potion Madam Pomfrey had given her.
And then his grey eyes were piercing into hers. “What. Were. You. Thinking.”
He marked each word with a squeeze of her arm, which was still held firmly in his left hand. Hermione stammered a sequence of incoherent words, unable to actually reply. She was lost, looking around, trying to find a reason for what was happening.
What was she thinking?
When? Where? What was he referring to?
Hermione’s expression was uncertain and confused, Draco seemed to realize.
He shook his head and moved his right hand to her back, pressing her against him. Hermione gasped in surprise at his actions and looked up at him.
He was taller than her so she had to bend her neck to keep looking into his eyes, which were once again staring at her lips, Hermione noticed.
She flushed at the realization but couldn’t quite manage to understand the meaning behind his behaviour. Was he planning on making fun of her? Had he discovered her feelings? It seemed unlikely, but not impossible.
She needed to find a way out of this situation.
Before she could come up with an excuse, however, he spoke once again. “I can’t risk…” Draco hesitated for a moment and showed signs of retreat.
This wasn’t a good idea.
But it’s her.
“You cannot die, Granger.” He stared down at her, brows furrowed and voice harsh.
She jumped slightly at his change.
Draco kept going on. “Stop playing the part of the hero and… just, don’t risk your life because of him, because of Potter. Let him be the hero, the one who risks his life. Him, not you. Why does it have to be you?” It seemed like he was referring the last question more to himself than to her.
Hermione opened her eyes wide and her mouth moved of its own accord. “Malfoy, you cannot possibly believe I will listen…” But her words died in her throat as he collided his lips against hers.
In the exact same moment Draco kissed her, Hermione felt something pull inside of her. It felt right to do this, so she gave in.
She tried to match his movements and energy. Draco was passionate, demanding, he was like a hunter looking for his prey. She was his prey. But Hermione was not running away from him, no, she was trying to reach him.
His mouth was hot and slightly wet as he kept claiming her lips. She brought her free hand behind his head, to keep him firm against her, while Draco interlaced the fingers of the one arm he still hadn’t let go of with his.
His tongue swiped over her mouth and she opened it to welcome him in. He tasted like mint, fresh and… exciting?
Draco slowed down for a moment, biting her lower lip and sucking on it. Hermione tugged at his hair then, desperate for more, and he picked up his pace for the second time.
They were a mess of lips, teeth clashing together, her tongue drawing imaginary circles on his, his hands grabbing her cheeks and pushing her face more towards his.
It was all rushed, but it was perfect. Because it was them and their souls had been waiting their whole lives to finally run towards one another. So Hermione didn’t mind his aggressive movements and he didn’t complain when she bit his lips too hard, he just held her tighter.
The moment he let her go - slowly and hesitantly - she feared his reaction. Their eyes opened simultaneously and they stood in front of each other without saying a word, listening to their ragged and uneven breaths.
Then he just left her. It was all over in a blink of an eye.
Standing there, in that empty hallway, Hermione watched Draco Malfoy’s back reach the end of the corridor and disappear down the stairs.
The two teenagers tried to ignore the burning inside their hearts as they boarded the train later that day, but their souls were screaming louder than ever. Because they had discovered what it was like to be together. And after that first kiss, they demanded more.
Maybe, it was the right time for Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger to give in to their true feelings.
You know I didn't
Want to have to
haunt you.
A kiss on her forehead.
“I’m so sorry.”
Then, one on the tip of her nose.
“You know I didn't mean any of that.”
Another kiss, this one on her lips.
“If there was another way… I didn’t want to drag you into this mess. I swear Granger, the only thing that really matters to me is keeping you safe - please, forgive me. Pleasepleaseplease.. .”
“Stop it, Draco.” Hermione took his cold hands into hers and stared at their intertwined fingers. “You have nothing to apologize for.”
She raised her head and took in his features. Regret was written all over his face. It always happened after one of those accidents, when he was forced to pretend and torture her and play the part of the bully. Except that Hermione did not blame him. She understood why they had to fake it and act as if they were still enemies, why they had to hide.
If someone had found out, the consequences would have been devastating for the both of them.
However, Draco’s guilt was consuming him, she knew this. That was because he wished he could have given her more.
For Salazar’s sake, Hermione Granger deserved the whole world and instead she had decided to settle on this, to settle on him .
On someone who was wrong for her in every possible way.
Because Draco Malfoy had become a death eater and was helping the dark side. He was working for the people who wanted her and the people like her, the muggle-borns, dead.
And Hermione knew this. She had found out the truth rather quickly, but decided to go against all odds and be with him.
I don’t care , she would tell herself. It’s not him, he doesn’t really want to do this, they are forcing him. It’s either this or the death of his family.
It doesn’t matter, I do not care, it’s not important.
She hadn’t given up and was not planning to let him go, since Hermione was fully convinced that Draco Malfoy had a pure heart and deserved her pardon.
I didn't have it in myself
To go with grace
'Cause when I'd fight,
You used to tell me I was brave.
“I don’t think I can cover for you any longer, he’s getting more and more suspicious. Especially after what happened with Ron.”
A deep breath. A beat of silence. Then, a kiss on her head.
“You don’t have to. I repaired it. It’s ready.”
His voice was a whisper against her ear.
He squeezed her more tightly from behind and they didn’t talk for a while, maybe an hour or two, but to them, it felt like merely five minutes had passed.
They spent what was going to be their last Friday hidden together in the Room of Requirement, holding on to each other. She kissed him slowly, trying to make the moment last longer. He stroked her cheeks and dried her tears.
After all those years, she would still cry for him, just like how she did the first time he had called her a mudblood. Of course, he had stopped insulting her blood status or appearance, so that was not the reason. No, she would cry because she was scared for him. She feared what would happen to him once he returned to his house, once he had accomplished his mission.
Hermione had tried everything she could come up with to find a solution. An escape for him and his mother, and - Merlin’s beard - even for his father .
Anything for him, she had promised.
“ I love you. I would do anything for you. ”
“Do you promise?"
“I promise.”
Little did she know that Draco would hold her up to that.
He had found her in the middle of the night, in their usual spot, surrounded by books and rolls of parchment scattered on the floor. She hadn’t left the room for three days. She had given up her classes for that time, saying that this was more important, his life was more important than attending a lesson about a new spell she could easily learn by herself.
She had to lie to her friends. And as much as Draco liked the idea of her being distant from the Weasel and his immortal friend, he knew she needed them. Just like they needed her. Like he needed her. But he was willing to give her up.
That night, like many other times, he had tried to break things off.
“Look what happened to you. You are not like this. I do not want to be responsible for your self-destruction. You should stay away from me, it’s for the best.”
“I will not leave your side. Not after all we had to do to be together. Not now, not ever.”
“Granger, don’t be daft. We are on two different sides in this war.”
“There’s still time. I’ve still got time. Please, let me try to save you.”
He hadn’t pushed the argument further, but she went back to her dormitory that night, while he spent his time repairing the Vanishing Cabinet. He regarded that as a small victory.
However, on a particular stressful day, when she brought up a new idea of hers, he wasn’t able to keep it in anymore.
They had screamed. Fired spells. Thrown random objects at each other.
But at the end of their fight, she was once more in his tight embrace.
“Anything for me, Hermione. You promised. It’s time to surrender.”
She didn’t reply, just tensed in his arms and cried more as he covered her with kisses and muffled ‘I love you’s.
So their sixth year came and went in a blur. Hermione remembered how nervous she had felt the first time she approached him after their kiss. He had made a fool of her for believing it had meant something and she was mortified. She considered herself delusional. Therefore, for a while, they were back to their shared hatred, even though it felt different, they both knew that. She was doing her best to avoid him, he was doing his best to avoid her.
Eventually, after dancing around each other for so many years, their souls had found their way back to each other and had become one. Hermione Granger was Draco Malfoy’s heart and soul, just like he was hers.
The school year had almost come to an end when something bigger than them was starting: a war. Everyone could perceive its presence looming over them, over the castle, over the whole Wizarding World.
Despite that, within the walls of the Room of Requirement, the war could not reach Draco and Hermione.
She shifted in his arms so that she could face him and look him straight in the eyes. She didn’t even blink as she spoke her next words because she wanted Draco to see how much faith she had in him.
“You, Draco Malfoy, are the bravest man I’ve ever known. And I am so happy to be able to call you mine.” She paused, choking back a sob and blinking away her tears. This was not the time to cry. Show him that you’re strong, be strong for him, she mentally scolded herself. “When this war is over…”
He interrupted her quickly. “Granger, don’t.”
Then, Draco rested his forehead against hers, closing his eyes. He was tired. Carrying a burden too heavy for his shoulders, the same ones to which Hermione had clung herself to.
“No… Look at me, Draco. When this war is over, I will be waiting for you. It doesn’t matter how long it takes for you to come back to me.” Her eyes were rimmed red and glossy, but behind them, he could see the strength and bravery of a fierce Gryffindor.
His fierce witch, his lioness.
“I’ll always come back to you, Hermione.” The admiration for her was clear on his face. Draco Malfoy loved many things and many people, but no one stood a chance with Hermione Granger. He had eyes only for her, he was devoted to her. She was a goddess and he was her faithful servant, and nothing, not even the Dark Lord himself, could keep her away from him.
At last, Draco kissed her one more time.
And I can go anywhere I want
Anywhere I want,
Just not home
And you can aim for
My heart, go for blood.
Malfoy Manor.
She was lying on the floor of Malfoy Manor. In his drawing room. In his home.
She was looking right through him.
He was paralyzed.
The woman he loved, tortured right in front of his eyes. He was powerless.
He had to watch. He had to hear her screams.
She hadn’t seen him in so long, he hadn’t seen her in so long.
I love you , she thought, as the pain burned under her skin.
Please, I love you, it’s not your fault.
I’m sorry , he thought, as he turned around so as not to witness that cruel scene.
I’m sorry, it’s my fault, I can’t save you.
And I still talk to you
When I'm screaming
At the sky.
A scream roared through the night.
Draco was panting with fury, the wand in his hand burning hot with the remaining trace of the spell he had cast towards the dark sky.
She was alive. But she had been brought to Malfoy Manor. But she was still alive.
Draco had to remind himself that Hermione had managed to flee. He had to stop imagining her body sprawled on the floor of his drawing room.
He was so tired of everything. Of this war, of fighting, of pretending, of hiding. He was tired, so so tired. He couldn’t take it anymore. The whole situation felt like a vice tightening against his throat and each day he found it harder and harder to breathe.
Before he could even realize it, tears blurred his vision, streaming along his face and falling at his feet; a sob escaped his throat. And then another. And another one. His shoulders were shaking with the force of them.
He fell to his knees, helpless.
There was nothing he could have done to spare her from this war.
Once more, his soul screamed out of despair for Hermione’s.
You had to kill me,
But it killed you just the same
Cursing my name, wishing I stayed
You turned into your worst fears.
Draco had been hopeful when he had arrived at Hogwarts.
This is it, he had thought, this is where we meet again. I will find her and we will leave as soon as possible. No fighting, no risking lives. Just Granger and I, far away from everything and everyone else.
Merlin’s beard, he was willing to kidnap her if it was necessary.
The only problem was that he hadn’t found her yet and it was driving him mad.
He made sure to check under every detritus and looked among the dead bodies that laid still on the floor.
Just to be sure, just to clear any doubt, he told himself.
Where is she? Where are you, Granger? Wherewherewhere…?
That single question repeated like a mantra in his head as he tried not to lose his mind.
And then, something pulled inside him. Draco froze in his steps at first, not quite understanding what was happening to him. It was a cold shiver down his spine that made him turn around.
That was when he saw her.
Hermione Granger stood in the middle of the battlefield, throwing curses at the two death eaters that were fighting her. Her face was covered in dirt and her clothes were stained red; she had a cut on her left temple from which blood was pouring.
But to Draco, she looked as beautiful as ever.
He smiled, admiring her in all of her fierceness.
Not wasting another second, he ran in her direction. She hadn’t acknowledged him yet and was managing to stun one of her opponents right at that moment. However, Hermione didn’t even have time to turn around as the other death eater took hold of her from behind, wrapping his arm around her throat and keeping her wand hand in his unyielding grip.
Since he was visibly stronger than her, she struggled in vain against his hold and cried out as he took a fist of her hair and yanked her head back.
His voice was cruel against her ear. “Look at you, dirty mudblood, you are powerless. Who’s going to save you now? I’ll tell you who… No one is com-”
His words died in his throat as a deep cut opened right in the middle of his torso.
Hermione felt the grip around her loosen and pushed herself away from the man. When she glanced in his direction, she saw him clutch his stomach with an expression of pain on his face.
She didn’t waver and raised her wand once more, ready to face whoever was behind the death eater.
But as he fell to the ground, Hermione couldn't believe her eyes; she was frozen in shock.
Draco. Her Draco was standing there, staring right at her.
She thought her brain was playing some tricks on her, because Draco couldn't possibly be here .
A thousand different questions came to her mind but it was like she had lost her ability to speak. But it didn’t matter , no it didn't, nothing else did because it was him and he was right here , right here in front of her .
Relief flooded through her veins as he moved closer and his arms found their way around her waist. He embraced her so tightly he was almost afraid to break her.
Hermione lost herself in his scent and finally felt safe; she felt her strength come back to her and hope burn inside of her.
Hope to win the war, to leave everything, to be with him.
“Gods, I missed you so much, Granger.” His voice trembled as he spoke, he had been full of concern for her safety.
Draco moved just enough to look into her eyes and then it was her turn to move. She stood on the tips of her toes and threw her arms around his neck, to bring him back down to her, so she could finally kiss him.
Her lips moved vigorously against his. It was her way of showing how much she loved him, how much she cared for him and needed him, how much she had missed him during the last year.
The moment was magic. It was as if they were the only people left on Earth, with no one around them to destroy what they had. Like two stars racing towards each other that ended up colliding together, leaving nothing behind.
Their souls had come back together, hopefully once and for all; their hearts beating for one another.
What a pity it was not what fate had prepared for them.
Draco was still holding the love of his life in his arms when Hermione was hit in the back with the Killing Curse.
She hadn’t let go of him yet as her body turned stone cold, limp, lifeless .
His worst fear had become reality and his whole world crumbled into pieces.
And you're tossing out blame,
Drunk on this pain.
Who did Draco blame the most for her death? A lot of people.
Firstly and foremost, he blamed Voldemort. Draco had spent the past few years hating on him for his stupid war and prejudices. The same prejudices that had kept him away from Hermione for so long. His war was the reason why she was dead, he had been the cause. Or so he thought.
He hated his father as well. Because he was the one who had raised Draco and had made him believe that muggle-borns, that Hermione, did not deserve to live. He had been the one who let Voldemort inside their home, who forced Draco to stand back and watch as she was tortured by his aunt. He had been the reason why his family was now ruined. Or so he believed.
Some days, not even Narcissa could escape his fury. She should have been stronger and gone against her husband. She should have taken Draco and fled the moment Lucius opened the doors of his house to that monster. Or so he reckoned.
However, he mainly hated himself. Because, deep down, he knew Hermione had died because he had not been able to protect her. It was the awareness of his fault that made each and every day harder and harder.
Why? Why had it been her and not him?
The pain he felt in his heart comforted him.
This is my life sentence, this is how I have to pay for my mistakes.
Draco seriously believed he deserved to suffer that agony, that was why he had welcomed his affliction with open arms.
Crossing out
the good years.
After her murder, everything had lost its meaning to Draco.
The sun didn’t shine anymore, the world had stopped turning; nothing was the same.
He was not the same anymore.
Bloody Salazar, he had forgotten how to live.
Was it important?
Probably not.
Was it worth living?
Definitely not.
Because Draco Malfoy would have chosen death over a life without Hermione Granger any day.
And you're cursing my name,
Wishing I stayed
Look at how my tears ricochet.
In the dark of the afterlife, where time and space no longer existed, two souls found their way back to each other for the last time. Fate had been terribly cruel to them, but now it no longer had control over them. They could finally be one, for now, and forevermore.