Chapter 1

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October 2nd, 1996

In the darkness of the heartache, a speck of light shone through.

His bright blond hair was like a hand reaching out to keep her from drowning. Hermione could have laughed, if she wasn't in such agony. The same person that could save her from anything, was the one causing her the torment. Her vision blurred with tears but it was clear in that moment, her heart was being torn apart.

It was as though she was exploding and she had burst into bits so strongly, every part of her was so far, she could never find the pieces, let alone even put them back together.

"Listen, Granger, this was fun but it was bound to end, you are a muggle-born, I am a pureblood, did you really think that our relationship was ever going to be something more?"

How ironic that he was absolutely right, yet she knew with every part of her being that he was lying.

She stared at him in disbelief, and he almost dropped his facade. "You're a terrible liar, Draco." she crossed her arms over her chest and felt a reluctant tear fall down her cheek.

He laughed. This empty, hollow, fake laugh that she could swear he regretted right after it came out of him. "I am not lying," he stated, his cool mask back into place. "I can never be more than your secret illicit affair and you know it. My family would disinherit me, your friends would hate you forever. This was simply an affair. And I am ending it now."

For a moment, she almost believed it. Not the part where he'd be disowned and she'd be a monster to her friends, of course, that part is true.

For a moment, she almost believed that he cared.

She may have been getting to know him for a little more than a year but she would know him blind. This may have in fact been a fling of theirs, but they both very well knew that it had turned into so much more. They didn't acknowledge it, but it was an unspoken agreement, up until that moment, that is.

Drago Malfoy might be the Malfoy heir, and to his friends he might be the prejudiced arsehole who does not care about anyone other than himself, but with her, he could drop any pretenses and be himself. He'd told her so, in fact. He was so much more than what he acted as. He did care about Hermione. So much that he was doing this, she knew.

There had to be some secret reason for this. He was not doing this on his own volition, it was as if he was being forced, he really was a awful liar.

Perhaps his father had something to do with it. He never really talked about his father but she knew that at some point he looked up to him. Maybe he was dying, and his last wish had been for Draco to marry someone pureblooded. Or perhaps it had something to do with Voldemort.

"I still don't believe you. People don't act they way we did when it's just 'an affair', Draco,"

"Stop saying my name."

"What do you want me to call you? Coward?" he winced and she wanted to take the words back, "Or a liar, perhaps?" she placed a hand on his arm and he shrugged it away. "If you could just tell me what's wrong, I could help—"

"No you can't help!" he snapped. So he was being forced. "I am just ending whatever it is that you want to call what we had, it cannot go on anymore, Granger." he said calmly.

"Draco, please,"

She was so frustrated and worried that she could drop to her knees and beg. She could. She was considering it.

If he could just tell her what was making him act this way she'd—

She'd—

She could find a way—

If they were together, they could overcome anything.

"Please," she said, another tear streamed down her cheek and she sobbed faintly. His face changed.

It was as though he was considering leaving it all behind for her. As if he was considering doing something dangerous for her.

She didn't know what to think. This whole thing was absurd. What could possibly make him act like this? What could make him lie and treat her this way?

She grabbed his face in her hands with all of her strength so he wouldn't be able to wrench himself away, and said, "Do not do this!" She gritted, "Just tell me what I can do, please! Don't do this," she pressed her forehead his, he closed his eyes and sighed. Then he opened them and took a deep breath.

He gently pulled at her wrists to step back and said, "This is how it has to be, Hermione." She had never heard him speak this calmly, she did not think she could get more infuriated.

She didn't know what else to do, the impotence was maddening, she wanted to drag him to whole in the ground and curl up with him there forever.

He was a prick. She wanted to help and he wouldn't let her. How could she help if she didn't know how?

I love you, she almost said.

It would have been a low blow, but it would have been true. She'd been wanting to say it for some time now.

Would he say it back? Probably not, given the circumstances. But did he feel it?

Yes, she thought, yes he does.

What if she said it now? Would he still walk away? Would he be willing to run away with her? Leave everything behind?

Jesus, she could not believe she was even considering leaving everything.

What one does for love.

Fuck her whole life, she would. All she needed was him. He was her home. Wherever they were, as long as they were together. If only se were certain he would go with her.

She wanted to hug him and tell him everything will be alright because they'd be together, and that was reason enough, but she held back, she knew that that would somehow motivate this decision of his.

How could he do this? Could he not she how her heart was breaking? Could he not see how much she was suffering? She was sobbing in front of him for God's sake, and he was standing there, looking at her as if she were crazy.

She could not help it.

It was the way his eyes said something his mouth could not.
It was the way his shoulders were tense, as if holding himself back. It was— It was that he just existed.

"I love you," she murmured.

His expression visibly changed through her blurry gaze, his mouth opened slightly, he was taken aback. He did not expect her to say that.

He opened his mouth and closed it several times.

Say it back, say it back, say it back.

She almost collapsed.

He took her hand in his and squeezed. Looking into her eyes with... Pity? Regret?

His eyes were her favorite thing about him. She had never seen anything like them. She loved them. She loved him. She loved everything about him, and he didn't know. And he'd never know. And nobody would ever know how great it feels to love someone this much.

He brought her hand up to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. He pressed his lips to her hand and closed her eyes. She swore he did that for almost a whole minute.

He lifted his head and looked at her, and she suddenly knew that she'd never see his eyes in that intimacy again.

He dropped both their hand in between them and stared at them, before gently letting her hand go, and she felt every part of her soul and heart explode like a supernova, lighting millions and millions of years away.

Except—

Except there was no light. It was just darkness.

Hermione watched him leave while he had just taken the most fundamental and crucial part of her. And it felt fucking unbearable.

Because Hermione could try to live and pretend that he hadn't just taken her heart with him, she could pretend that the pain would someday stop, but she knew that without your heart, your life becomes pointless. And a life without Draco Malfoy is a life she did not want to live.

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