Like we meant nothing at all
I gave and gave the best of me
But couldn’t give you what you need
You walked away, you stole my life
Just to find what you’re looking for
But no matter how I try
I can’t hate you anymore
Nick Lachey – I Can’t Hate You Anymore
Murdered in a Werewolf Attack
Draco gazed at the gravestone bitterly. A thousand tears he had cried for her – one for every day of torment he’d suffered through since her death. Each one had fallen into the cracks in the stone, into the pungent, damp earth, to remain forever unreciprocated. Still he had returned each night to shed one more tear, hoping, with such diligence and fervour that he’d nearly driven himself mad, that it might just turn the hands of time back and allow him to repair his blunders.
So far, his hopes had not been answered.
Then again, he had never really grasped the notion of hope. He supposed she had implanted that tiny seed of hope within him, a glowing, golden flower which had withered away upon her departure, leaving him colder and emptier than ever. For one glorious moment, he had even imagined a world with her, a world where he would never be alone – a world that had existed only in his mind, and then not at all when she walked away.
Draco lowered himself to the ground and touched the inscription of Hermione’s name. Sighing, he reached into his pocket and pulled out an ink bottle with a four-pointed star engraved into its surface. It was half-filled with black ink. Now that he no longer worked at the Ministry, Draco didn’t need it. Nevertheless, he kept the bottle with him always, unable to part with the ink it contained – for it was yet another reminder of Starlight and the letters he’d written to her.
Draco paused for a few seconds, and then placed the ink bottle on the cracked slab of stone that marked Hermione’s grave. He sat back on his heels, willing the fog in his mind to clear. It was nearly time for him to leave, but he wanted just one more moment with her.
He opened his mouth, but could think of nothing to say, so he closed it again. That time in the tea shop had been the last time he saw her before word of her death reached him a month later. Since then, his deal with Greyback combined with her inexorable presence in his mind through it all had made his life living hell. He had myriad things he wanted to say to her, but he realised, as he fought to form coherent thoughts against the sinister power starting to seize control of his mind, that it all really just boiled down to one thing. And even though he had said the words many times, as the dark clouds shielding the moon began to part, Draco didn’t hesitate to whisper them one more time:
‘Hermione, I loved you…’
Draco stood up, leaving the protection of the shadow the gravestone had cast over him and submitting to the full moon’s authority. These were the nights he now lived for: the nights when he found solace in solitude and apathy, in the agony that ripped away his identity and the alluring scent of fresh blood that teased his heightened senses under the solemn moonlight.
His mind shrieked in simultaneous anguish and release the moment his pale skin met the even paler glow of the moon. He collapsed to the ground as translucent tendrils of moonlight tightened around his writhing body, crushing his bones, squeezing his flesh, eroding his skin. A terrible scream ripped from his throat as his human body and thoughts were cleaved apart and moulded back together to form those of the wolf’s. The pain lasted but a few seconds, and when it retreated, a hideous, wolf-like creature stood in Draco’s stead.
The wolf tossed its head and snarled. The cool breeze carried with it the presence of another living creature somewhere nearby, and the desire to kill was suddenly all that mattered. Turning on its heel, the wolf sprang off into the darkness without second thought.
As the creature ran off, one of its long legs grazed the ink bottle sitting at the foot of the gravestone. The bottle teetered dangerously; for a moment, it appeared that it would right itself again, but then it tipped over, hit the stone with a crack that resounded in the still night, and shattered into a million fragments of crystal that gleamed under the luminescent moon.
The ink the bottle had held spread out quickly, running into the cracks in the stone and spiderwebbing outwards like tainted blood flowing through cold, petrified veins. It coloured black a set of words that had been roughly carved into the otherwise blank slab of stone:
I Know Because I’ve Tried
Neither Will A Thousand Tears
I Know Because I’ve Cried
Meanwhile, in the shadows of the forest that surrounded the cemetery, the wolf raced against the wind, whimpering in pleasure as it enjoyed the freedom its silent surroundings allowed it. Overhead, just above the canopy of trees, a snowy owl soared on outspread wings, pure white against the starless black sky. It followed the path of the wolf beneath it for a short distance before swerving away and disappearing off into the distance.
Somewhere, in the deepest recesses of the wolf’s mind, its human side observed the significance of this. It understood, finally, that it was all over, that there was nothing that could prevent it all from ending in such a way.
And, in acknowledging this truth, the wolf’s other self finally conceded defeat. He knew he would never be whole again.
Baby it's all I know
That you're half of the flesh
And blood that makes me whole
Clay Aiken – Broken Wings
A/N: First of all, yes, I'm alive. I've been busy with life and other stuff, but none of that is really important right now.
This is the last chapter of A Thousand Words. I've actually had most of it written since I started writing the fic, and I'm happy that the story reached this ending. However, if you want to read an alternate version in which no one dies, please refer to the pre-chapter author's notes.
Now, I'd like to thank every one of you (or at least most of you :P) for being patient and supportive and all that other good stuff. It's been over two years since I posted the first version of ATW on MNFF, and finally, the journey's over. I won't launch into a novel-length author's note like I did in The Sweetest Sin, but I really do appreciate all of your support more than I can express :)
Thanks for reading! If you have any final questions, ask me in my Yahoo! group (link in my profile) or send me an e-mail.