Second Time Around

Death

Hi everybody, my beta Elantil is fixing the story from chappie one. So, any new fans – Yey! You get to read the new and improved chapters. And any old fans, if you ever want to read this again, then here's a nice new one. I like the idea of chapter songs (something i only started doing in later chapters) so much i decided to go back and put one in for every chapter.

I do not own Harry Potter.

CHAPTER ONE

Death

"I'm so tired but I can't sleep
Standin' on the edge of something much too deep
It's funny how we feel so much but we cannot say a word
We are screaming inside, but we can't be heard

I'm so afraid to love you, but more afraid to lose
Clinging to a past that doesn't let me choose
But once there was a darkness, deep and endless night
You gave me everything you had, oh you gave me light"- I will remember you ,Sarah Mclachlan

It took Draco Malfoy almost seven years before he could finally admit he was in love with Hermione Granger.

Now seven years later, at age twenty three, he was still hopelessly in love with Hermione Granger, if not more so.

He watched her from afar as a red haired man held her hand and nuzzled her cheek.

Why had he bothered to come?

He had patrols, hunts, missions. The Dark Lord would probably scan his mind later when he realised Draco's absence. He should be practicing his Occlumency.

Instead he watched as she married Ronald-bloody-Weasley?

But he knew why. He couldn't bloody help it. 'I must be a masochist,' he thought gloomily.

He'd polyjuiced himself as one of the guests; the real Mr Albert Nightingale had been stunned and left lying in some ditch with a few empty bottles as an explanation.

He watched from just beyond a small crowd; the Weasleys had stupidly decided to hold the wedding in the Burrow's garden. As if the last Weasley wedding hadn't ended in complete disaster at the beginning of the war, they'd planned another one for right in the middle of the same bloody war.

A hearty cheer went up from the guests of the party as the bride and groom, after being provoked by the cries of 'Kiss, Kiss, Kiss', complied. It hurt. It made his stomach churn to see Hermione Mudblood Weasley kiss her new husband.

Although truthfully, he had stopped caring about her blood status long ago; even the word burned in his mouth.

It had been in his seventh year, when he watched as his Aunt Bellatrix carved the word Mudblood into Hermione's flesh and he found himself wanting nothing more than to cast a Cruciatus on his dear demented Aunt. And it was because he hated seeing her hurt and screaming.

Her blood wasn't dirty, it was the same colour as his own and the realisation shook him. The word 'Mudblood' was no longer associated with his supremacy, but with Hermione Granger writhing on the ground in her own blood and every time, the thought made him sick.

Draco didn't know when he'd realised he loved her properly; he just saw her one day and knew.

As sappy as it sounded, he had just found her in the library, chewing her pencil while surrounded by a mountain load of books and he found himself smiling. With all the added stress of the vanishing cabinet, she had looked so pretty and calm, then he suddenly knew.