Damaged Goods by slytherin_after_dark

Chapter 44

- NOT MY STORY!! ALL CREDITS TO @slytherin_after_dark ON A03!!

Draco

She slumped against him and he scooped her up, carrying her lifeless body to his bed and gently placing her there. For a moment he allowed himself to just look at her and then it came all crashing down on him. When he was going to wake her, she would have no recollection of him over the past months. Everything that had happened between them would be erased.

He fell to his knees, unfamiliar with that sort of pain that spread in his chest now. It burned through him.

This had always been the inevitable outcome, unless she had come to her senses earlier and realized that she deserved so much better than him. He would die of the runes one day, by Snape's calculations that day was approaching rather quickly, so this shouldn't be this shocking. This painful. And yet, seeing her on his bed, her curls sprawled across his sheets, he didn't want to let her go; didn't want her to forget. He closed his eyes and felt tears drip to the floor. Breathing felt increasingly difficult.

These last few months with her had been the happiest of his life. For a moment he had experienced what it felt like to have someone worth living for. It had never bothered him that he was going to die of the runes. He had done horrific things and this was the toll it took. But then came this witch with curly hair and shifted his entire universe.

He let out a scream of pent-up anguish and let it roar through his chest; tear through his lungs until he felt hoarse.

Then he went quiet. Pull yourself together. He locked his feelings away like he had done on so many other occasions, though this was more difficult. He focused on his occlumency and locked his heartbreak and sorrow, his loss and love—everything to do with her, it was locked away for the moment.

Quietly, he stood and got dressed. Then he turned to her, wearing nothing but his white collared shirt, which went to her knees. His heart ached at the thought of never seeing her in one of his shirts again.

He cleared his throat, combed through his hair with his hand, and made sure he looked the part. When she woke up, startled that she was in his house, in his bed nonetheless, he would tell her something vile, something to block out the erased memories. It needed to be shocking. He had come up with it a while ago. He'd tell her he'd been slipping love potions in her drinks as a test to see how easy it was to manipulate Mudbloods.

She would be disgusted with him and storm out of his house and his life.

He grabbed his wand but hesitated. He didn't want to see her stare at him with hate in her eyes. Not after everything. Part of him wasn't sure he was going to be able to bear it.

Fuck, pull yourself together. She deserved better than to watch him go through the last stages of the magical poisoning from the runes. Finally, she was happy. Free of the dark magic in her. He didn't want to be the reason she'd suffer more.

As his hand on the wand tightened, he felt the hold on his occlumency slip. Memories in his mind replayed themselves. Hermione telling him she loved him. Her eyes beaming at him with adoration and joy. Her curls between his hands. The way she moaned his name softly when he was inside of her. Her infectious laugh. Her incredible intellect and curiosity. He inhaled and placed all the memories inside of a box in his mind and locked it away and with the next exhale, he flicked his wand to wake her up.

He swallowed hard, steeling himself for the look on her face. But she didn't move. He flicked his wand again. Nothing. He went closer, using a different spell. Her eyes remained shut. Panicked he felt her pulse, which was still beating against his finger in steady motion but it seemed slow. He used another spell but nothing seemed to work.