Until the end Dramione

Chapter 22 Separated

Apparently, the Dark Lord was not indifferent to this new attack, for he lost his grip on Hermione, who landed with all her weight on the stones. She took advantage of the Dark Wizard's moment of confusion to reach the spot where her best friend was still lying.

He seemed to be regaining consciousness. But she didn't believe it right away. She thought she was hallucinating and had gone mad. It wouldn't have surprised her anyway. Yet Harry was indeed waking up. His eyelids opened slowly and the first thing he noticed was the crimson color that had taken over Hermione's face. Her tears wet his shirt. She had never felt so relieved. And as she sobbed, she gave Harry her best smile, helping him to his feet.

There was no time for a proper reunion, as Harry hurried off to face the Dark Lord once more. And once again, after whispering to her best friend to be careful, Hermione also had to move away. But just when she thought she had to fight Draco once again, he had already disappeared...

*

Two months had passed since Lord Voldemort's defeat. The wizards had held a celebration worthy of the name. Harry had triumphed, but as much as he would have liked to enjoy his victory to the full, his best friend's announcement had left him in a state of disarray. It was no doubt obvious that she wasn't keen on it either, but the circumstances had been too great. Hermione Granger had had to make certain demands.

The wound Draco Malfoy had left on her heart didn't seem to be healing, or even scarring. But even though he had destroyed all the hopes she had so naively clung to, she couldn't stop thinking about him, missing him. To miss all the good times they had spent together, however short they had been.

Hermione was sitting in her bedroom. Her new bedroom. New decor, new perfume, new world. In fact, everything was new to her now. Looking melancholy, she gazed at the bed she was to share with another man. She looked at it as if she hoped it would disappear any second. As if just looking at it might change something. But she could just as easily have watched him for hours on end, and nothing would change. And the idea seemed so unfair. Now she felt as if the bed was laughing at her. That it was throwing back in her face everything she had hoped for so long ago.

She had hoped to find herself one day, in a new home, alongside the man she loved, sharing a bed. But her hopes now remained mere fantasies. She would no longer feel that smooth, diaphanous skin on her, those long, slender, deft fingers caressing her. That silky, impressive platinum-blond hair would no longer slip through her fingers, and that warm breath, that suave voice, would no longer speak her name. Hermione had a vision of a strong man hugging her, placing a soft kiss, more precious than she'd ever imagined, on her lips. But now they were just memories.

In that moment, when her thoughts were jumbled together in an attempt to form an acceptable pile of the few good moments she could remember, she felt like a stranger. A stranger to herself. Nothing seemed real, or meaningful. She had entered a world that was no longer her own. Everything was different now. And she had trouble finding her place. People smiled at her. She probably smiled back without really knowing why, as if by automatism. She could laugh, but was she really laughing? She could nod, but was she really understanding? The life she was leading was no longer her own. She'd made herself a prisoner, and nothing could change that.

- Honey? Are you there?!

Mrs. Granger's voice roused Hermione from her thoughts. She rose slowly and closed the door behind her. Her mother had just entered the living room.

- Hello, Mum," Hermione said, striving to smile.

- Hello darling," she kissed her. Look what I've found!

From the package she was carrying, she withdrew a small round box which she held with an expression of triumph.

- You can make him some this afternoon. I'll help you bake some cupcakes to go with it, if you like.