August

August 31st 1998

After dinner, I felt my mind racing. I had had a lazy day, feeling comfortable that all my work was done, but I was unsettled. I knew what was coming.

I walked up one step after another, knowing where I was headed. I opened the trapdoor and walked round, before seeing the back of head which was familiar to me. The artfully styled mop of blonde hair was facing the skyline, as the sun was setting over the hills. His hand were down by his side, leaning against the floor, as he kicked his legs back and forth. He wasn't expecting me, and I wasn't expecting him. I suspect he was drawn to the place, much I like was.

I walked over and sat down next to him, interlinking our hands together. He squeezed my hand and looked at me, before moving his lips and kissing me gently. I kissed him back, tentatively and full of emotion. He looked back at me, his eyes large and borderline watering, full of pain and fear.

"Hey." I whispered, so quietly I could barely hear myself.

"Hi." He whispered back, his hand holding tightly onto mine.

We sat there, holding hands, neither wanting to let go of each other. I was afraid that if I let go I would fall. I didn't want to fall. I wanted to be saved. And he couldn't save me anymore.

I looked out at the scenery beyond my feet, the sky fading into blue-black from pinky-lilac. I circled my fingers on the back of Draco's hand, softly. I felt safe, even up so high, aware of the impending height. I was safe because I was with him. He made me feel safe.

I looked over at my boyfriend, and in the dim light I could see the stain of tears that was running down his cheek, glistening in the near moonlight. A pang of pain coursed through my chest, seeing him crying.

"Don't cry, please don't cry." I said, my voice cracking with hurt.

I didn't want to cry either, but I could feel my eyes beginning to fill with water. They slowly trickled down my face, but my pain did not ebb away with the salty tears. Draco lifted his right hand and turned to me to wipe the stream off my cheek. I took his hand in mine and kissed it, before letting it go.

"I'm sorry." He sniffled, looking down at his feet.

"For what?"

"For crying. For trying to be strong when I can't. For being weak."

"You aren't weak. Don't say that."

"But I have to let you go. And I can't. That's weak."

I felt a strain on my heart, as though it was breaking when he said this.

"It doesn't make you weak because you have feelings."

"It does...it does."

A solitary tear fell down my face.

He wasn't weak.

He was strong and brave and intelligent and caring and kind and loyal.

He was amazing.

But he wasn't mine.

Not anymore.

I took his hand in both of mine, clutching it tight, trying to hold on. I didn't want to let him go, he seemed too vulnerable. I didn't want to let go and watch him crumble. I could do that to him. He was my angel.

"But we had some fun. Lots of fun. Remember our first official date, or the big picnic, or the double date, or the walks round the lake, or the visits to Hogsmeade, or  all of the movies we've watched. They were amazing times and can be incredible memories. We can appreciate those, and not look back on this with pain, but with happiness and joy." I whispered, letting him lean his head on my shoulder.