Lunar Cost - Dramione

(•_•)...16...(•_•)

Once he entered his room, he rid himself of the disguise and wept.

He remembered that day. The day he was ordered to kill the elder Pierce girl. The Dark Lord didn't call her by her name though. Voldemort called her "Deadweight."

Truth is, Voldemort always knew she was a traitor. Fed her false intel to give to the ministry. He was just waiting, saving her for Draco.

Draco cried for weeks after that day.

He heard the slight scraping of his bookshelf on the carpet, letting him know someone was coming in. Tami Lynn didn't even know how to enter his room so he had no motivation to fix his appearance or cower behind something. He simply stood next to his desk, his back facing the bookshelf. Mindlessly messing with the quill on his desk with his left hand.

"I haven't seen you look like this in months."

"Yeah well, you won't be seeing me like this ever again after holiday, so drink it up while you can, Granger," he spoke in a flat tone. He did not turn around and instead walked over to his nightstand, opened the cabinet underneath and pulled out a vial with a translucent purple liquid as its contents. "I'm not sure it'll do you any good, but I have no use for it anym—"

"Malfoy, what do you mean I won't be seeing you lik—"

The pair was interrupted when they heard the bookshelf slowly start to open. A faint but joyful "Avi, come look what I've found!"

Hermione and Draco looked at each other in panic.

Tami Lynn was in the doorway, facing the hallway, calling out for her friend who happened to already be in the room.

"Avi? Taviyis! Come..." she turned around into the room and saw the unlikely sight of Hermione Granger and the Draco Malfoy in the same room. "...look."

Draco stood by awkwardly, hoping the situation wouldn't turn out of hand.

Tami Lynn stood in the doorway staring, terrified, looking deathly pale, at her sister's murderer, standing about 5 meters away. Her bottom lip trembled oh so faintly and her eyes were stained red with tears that didn't dare to fall.

Before any of them, including herself, could process what she was doing, Tami Lynn advanced onto him with lightning speed. She threw her hand up and swiped it across his pale, sad face. His head was whipped to the side and his tears were pulled to the floor. Draco let his head hang and Hermione looked at the scene with confusion.

Tami Lynn's hands continued to punch Draco on his arms, anywhere she could reach. Her arms flailed with passion as she began to scream at him. He didn't do anything to stop her, he simply stood there taking it for a while. Finally he lifted his hands to place them gently on her shoulders, to push her back slightly. The rate of her hits declined and her screaming turned to sobbing.

She stopped punching him and ripped his hands off of her shoulders, inhaling sharply and audibly.

"Get off of me!" she sobbed and proceeded to exit the room as quickly as she could.

Draco stood there with a sad, blank expression on his face. Hermione thought of what she could say. She opened her jaw slightly a couple of times before coming to terms with the fact that words would fail. The pair stood there in complete silence, Draco's eyes were fixed on a nonexistent point of interest on his bed.

He was filled with memories of helping Hermione into the very same bed every morning after a full moon. He remembered their quiet conversations at night. He remembered her scent and her warmth. He remembered and tears welled up in his eyes once more.

Hermione followed his gaze to the black t-shirt with a drawn on silver snake that was folded and placed on top of her pillow—his pillow. Her favorite shirt. She allowed her eyes to fall and felt tears forming in her eyes as well.

"Look Draco, I just wanted to tell you how sorr—"

"Granger, I don't need to hear anything from you. It's quite obvious you want nothing to do with me." He made his way to leave the room, but before he left he turned back to Hermione. "I trust you'll see your way out."

With that, he left the room. Hermione grabbed the shirt and did the same.

***

Dinner was an awkward occurrence. Taviyis washed away whatever was left of Draco Malfoy and sealed his bedroom with a simple password lock. He, then, removed the password from his mind, leaving Draco Malfoy's childhood lost and forgotten. He adopted a new room, down the hall from Tami Lynn's.

They had gotten into a quarrel about how he hadn't told her Draco Malfoy would be there; in which Taviyis told her that he didn't know he would be there and that he would ask Malfoy to leave. Tami Lynn was still upset at him.

So the three women and Taviyis sat at the black finished wooden table in silence only filled by the occasional scraping of silverware on plates. Narcissa tried to make conversation but it was all for nothing as when anyone would start to utter a word, they'd gain the unwanted attention of everyone else in the room and promptly cease conversation.

Hermione was the first to finish her food. She thanked Narcissa for the delicious meal, excused herself from the table, and made her way to the kitchen, where she cleaned her dishes by hand while a bewitched hand towel dried them once she rinsed them. She was joined by Taviyis who had set his plate down to the side of the sink.

Hermione scrubbed away but began to speak, never taking her eyes off her task.

"You aren't changing back, are you?" Her voice was sad; like a piece of her had been completely ripped away. "The wizarding world will never see the likes of Draco Malfoy ever again, will it?"

Draco stood there, staring at the side of her face, admiring it, the way he used to. He hated himself for missing her presence, her scent. Her concern.

"It's just what's best, Granger. No one has any good memories of him. He does the wizarding world no good. He doesn't do good by anyone and he never has."

His eyes fell to the beautifully dark countertops and flicked up to her slim, gentle hand gripping his plate, lifting it into the sink to wash it.

"You know, once upon a time, Draco Malfoy did a lot of good by me. In fact, without Draco Malfoy, I wouldn't be where I am today. I don't think he should run from his issues by erasing them. I don't think he should be erased. It's not up to me, but if he thought for even a split second that he could do it, I think he should stay."

With that, she turned the faucet off and dried her hands. Her face turned to his just long enough to connect both their sad and longing eyes for a brief moment. She left him in the kitchen and went to her room, put on her favorite shirt, and wept.