(1) 𝐍𝐄𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐇𝐄 | d. m

Chapter thirty-eight

When Draco left, he took a part of me with him. A part I hadn't realised up till then, always belonged to him. 

My heart.

I wasn't angry with him. No, I couldn't blame him for leaving the way he did. He needed to get away, and I knew that. Nothing had been the same ever since Narcissa . . . And it was as if the past had a firm grip around his throat, refusing to let go.

As for Bellatrix and the others, well, disappeared like smoke, but it wouldn't be long until they came back; seeking revenge, because even though Bellatrix was the one who had killed her own sister, she would still put the blame on me and Draco. Mostly me. I guess she thought it was my fault that Narcissa was dead, despite her own act of evil. After all, Narcissa had jumped in front of me, she had saved me. Saved Draco. So I guess, in a way, I was to blame.

Harry, Ron and Hermione managed to make it safely to Shell Cottage, but unfortunately enough, Dobby the house elf, wasn't so lucky. In his heroic act of saving us, he had given his life. He died shortly after they Apparated to the beach house, and after his funeral, the trio had to keep going, as if nothing had happened. I guess that was what they had to do in order to move forward. In order to find out more about Voldemort and his plans for wizarding world domination.

Come autumn, I spent most of my time trying to find Draco and preparing for whatever would happen next. Despite my own understanding of his choices — why he did what he did — I couldn't seem to let go. The past wouldn't let me. My heart wouldn't let me.

I guess that's what you get for falling hopelessly in love.

I spent most days and nights in the manor, walking about the dark, empty, hollowed-out halls, wishing for things to get back to the way they used to be.

Waiting for the sun to come peaking in through the windows.

Hoping for something. Anything.

Praying he'd come back soon.

Because even though I knew of his reasons and understanding them — I couldn't let go of the possibility of his return.

I was clinging onto hope like it was the last piece of string, keeping me from plummeting to my death.

Because if he didn't, we'll — that would surely be the death of me.

***

To keep myself somewhat sane (which was not working out too great), I started writing letters to him. Letter's I never sent. Letters I held dearly and poured my heart and soul into.

***

My dearest Draco,

Nothing is ever easy anymore. I walk through these empty talks, waiting for the day that we'll see each other again.
Clinging onto the hope that we will. Because despite everything that has happened between us, I know you love me. As I love you.

Sometimes I think I see your shadow, sweeping through, keeping me company and protecting me from harm. Looking over me whenever I'm asleep and can't seem to wake from the nightmares. I tell myself it's real, that you're still here, but I know that isn't the case. I know that. I just can't let that feeling go.
I can't stop hoping you'll be here when I wake up. Eventually.

I've been trying to stay afloat ever since you left.
I really have been.
However, it's proven to be a lot more difficult than I could ever have anticipated. You occupy my thoughts close to 24 hours a day and your smile steals the spotlight of my dreams. Whenever I'm not having nightmares, you're there to put a smile on my face. A melancholic smile.

I know, one day, I'll have to move on. Pack up my bags and leave this place, never to return. Wipe the tears from my eyes and say goodbye. to a place where I've know love and pain and everything in between. Because if you don't come back (it pains me to even think such a though for even a split second), there's nothing left for me here.

The only real reason why I stayed, was because of you. Because of your piercing grey eyes and stubborn nature. Because of your reckless mouth and strong heart.

I'll love you till the day I take my final breath,

Lane.

***

After I finished whatever letter I wrote, I'd mark them by signing his name, leaving them to soak in the sunshine coming in through the window.

The letters seemed a way for me to communicate with him, even though he never received them. They gave me a sense of inner peace, in a time where I felt everything but. They where the source of hope I needed, giving me access to light in a time that seemed darker than ever. They were my friends, keeping me company in such a lonely and desolate place.

But most of all - they kept me sane. Brought me closer to him.

The letters were everything. Even when I had nothing.