Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, or the world they live in. Everything in this story belongs to J.K. Rowling... She can even have my plot if she wants. LOL. Also, the line in italics toward the end of the story belongs to Glassesfreak206 whom I stole it from. LOL. I fell in love with it and felt a need to use it in this story.
Tear. It's such a simple word and yet, it symbolizes so many things and resonates differently with everyone. For some, the word is a part of their reality. They suffer this word and all of its torment every day for the simplest reasons. Whether it's watching a movie, or winning a race. Tears can appear in the most unlikely places. Even love. In fact, love is often associated with tears because it is a reminder of pain, suffering, the unthinkable, and even betrayal. For Hermione Granger, love had become pain and pain had become love, there was no difference in the two; they sat side by side, like enemies joined together; black and white; Muggle and pureblood.
Draco and Hermione.
The love was never supposed to occur. It wasn't supposed to happen. They loathed each other and every time their presence was bestowed upon the other, it was a punishment from the gods. It had to be. But if they hated each other so much, why did they end up falling for each other? How did it happen? Each of these questions is perfectly understandable. But, I'm afraid I cannot explain it to you, for not even Hermione and Draco understand it to this day. It just happened. Similar to the way thunder always follows lightning; there is no clear explanation. It just is.
Until he left. Until he ended it all. Until he broke her heart and tore it to pieces. Until he ripped it apart and left it in the ever pouring rain, ragged and broken beyond repair. It wasn't supposed to happen, but that's probably why it did.
Let me take you back in time. Back to when it all ended. For the beginning of a story is never as interesting as the end and I assure you, this is no exception.
Hermione woke up, looking around the room. Her vision was still slightly blurred, suggesting she hadn't fully woken up yet, so she rubbed her eyes, slowly, while swinging her legs out of bed. After shrugging on a shirt, a pair of jeans, and brushing her bushy (although less so then it had been in her days of Hogwarts) brown hair, she made her way down the hall and into the kitchen of her four room flat.
Malfoy was waiting for her.
Hermione stopped, her heart performing a back flip in her chest. She and Malfoy had been "going out" for three months now after a very long, hard, distressing period of time in her life when she had been battling with the ways of fate. As she had learned then and was, unbeknownst to her, about to learn again, fate always won out. The details of that year will not be revealed here. All you need to know is that ever since they had finally revealed their new status, Malfoy had always made it a habit to call before paying Hermione a visit at her flat, and he never visited at 7:30 in the morning, under any circumstances.
Until now, that is.
Hermione opened her mouth to talk but found that no words came out. What is he doing here? Were the only thoughts occupying her mind other than, God, he is so hot! But she was trying to move that one aside and focus on the main dilemma at hand.
"Hey," Draco drawled, only a hint of the boy who had occupied his body from Hogwarts left in his voice.
Hermione cleared her now very dry throat. "H-hi," she answered, her voice higher than usual from surprise. "This is certainly a surprise."
Malfoy's smirk increased. "I needed to talk to you so I thought I'd stop by." He stood up from the chair he had been sitting in and made to walk over to her and kiss her on the cheek, but Hermione moved her head out of the way and stepped back.
"Without calling?" she asked, her normal, in-charge, bossy attitude returning to her voice.
Draco loved this about her and loved the way she crossed her arms as she said this. He loved everything about her down to the very last frizzy hair on her head. He didn't know why he had fallen in love with her. After all, there were plenty of other girls at Hogwarts who had been better looking then she, and yet it had been she who had grasped his attention in every class; Hermione who had stolen his heart; she who had strayed him from the path his father had laid out for him; and it was now Hermione, his beloved Hermione, who was standing in front of him, completely unaware of the information he was about to unload on her which was sure to break her heart.
Malfoy's smirk turned into a smile as he watched her adorable figure react to his snobbish, arrogant attitude that he could go where he pleased without bothering to consider other people's schedules. But this time there was a reason, a big reason. And it was killing him from the inside out. "Well, I thought you'd be asleep, so I thought I'd surprise you when you woke up."
Hermione looked skeptical. "What did you want to talk to me about?" she asked politely, trying to cover up the slight sign of fear in her voice.
Draco hesitated. He didn't want to tell her like this, not now. Not when she was still in such a fragile state of mind caused by her peaceful slumber. But he had no choice. He knew Hermione well enough to know that she wouldn't drop the subject until he had told her every last detail. Every last bloody detail.
Finally, after hesitating for a moment, he answered, without looking at her, "I'm leaving."
Hermione said nothing. The tension in the room was so thick it could have been cut with a knife.
Draco cleared his throat and continued. "There's nothing for me here and I was offered a very good job in America."
Hermione's breathing was shorter now and she felt slightly dizzy at his words. Above all, though, she felt love and anger pulsing through her veins.
"It's not permanent, yet," Draco tried again, sensing her awaited anger bubbling just below the surface. Any minute now she was going to explode, rid her mind of all emotion and just yell at him. And then she would cry. The tears would be that part that would kill him. Those glossy brown eyes leaking those perfectly formed tears down her tan face.
Silence followed his words. Draco watched as emotion after emotion washed across her face. Finally, as if deciding on the best-fit emotion for the situation at hand, she started to tremble in fury and her hands automatically flew up as she exploded, just as Draco had predicted.
"Oh, that’s encouraging!" Hermione shouted in Draco's face. "After everything that's happened, you're just going to forget about it? What about me? What if I want to remember? What if I want to learn from everything that's happened between us?!"
"Then learn from it!" Draco bellowed, his voice overpowering hers and his anger matching her own. What was her problem? Couldn't she see this was killing him as well? It wasn't his fault!
"Well, what about you?" Hermione shot at him, tears now lining her eyes. "What are you going to do?"
Draco shook his head and sat down in the chair, placing his head in his hands. "I don't know," he whispered. "I just don't know."
Silent tears spilled down Hermione's face. Her chest was heaving in anger but her eyes couldn't handle it. They leaked tears like a rain cloud due to burst months ago but which had withstood everything until the day it finally cracked.
A day seemed to pass, then two. Hermione looked at Draco and said in a tone barely audible, "I love you, Draco. I love you so much."
Draco looked up at her and watched as the tears spilled down her face, cascading down her cheekbones and disappearing below her chin. His heart broke for what felt like the millionth time that morning as he watched her and drank in her words. They were the most perfect words in the entire world and he savored the way they had sounded from her lips.
She carefully kneeled down beside him and brought his chin up to look at her. His stormy gray eyes peered into hers. It felt like he was looking into forever. Hermione leaned toward him very slowly her lips inching closer and closer to his. When she was finally an inch away, he regained consciousness and pulled away, his hands pushing her in the opposite direction from him in the process. Hermione looked startled and more tears seemed to spill from her eyes. What was going on? Where was her beloved Draco? The one who savored every kiss they shared and had promised her forever with the drop of a hat?
"I can't," Draco said. "Hermione, I just... I just can't."
"Why?" Hermione sobbed. She reached out for his arm and pulled it, trying desperately to get him to look at her. "Why not? Why are you going? Why are you leaving me? Why can't I just kiss you? What's going on?"
"I don't know!" Draco yelled, turning around to face her so abruptly that she stumbled backwards in surprise. "I'm still trying to figure that out myself, damn it!" He turned around as if searching for the answers somewhere in that room, his hand automatically running through his perfect, blond hair.
"What do you have to figure out, Draco? What's there to consider?" Hermione was yelling again and as she did, she took a step forward to prove she wasn't scared. "I'm right here! I'm not going anywhere! And yet, you're just going to walk away from everything! What am I going to do when you're gone? How am I supposed to go on in life without you?"
"Hermione, listen," Draco said, lowering his voice and turning to face her again.
"No, you listen. I have done everything for you! You have no right to just leave on me. I love you and it will kill me if you leave. Do you understand that?" she asked, her eyes boring into his and searching desperately for a sign of recognition.
His heart was torn by her words. He was having a very hard time keeping all trace of pain, anxiety, fear, and love out of his eyes. If she saw any of these signs in him, she would know how weak he turned out to be when around her. It was just an act. His tough front was just an act. He had to be strong for her but he couldn't be. He needed her just as much as she needed him.
"It will kill me, Draco," she repeated. She was making no attempt at covering up her feelings. She knew Draco could read her like a map, and she wanted nothing less. She wanted him to see what he was doing to her and all of the pain he had caused. No, was still causing.
Draco's heart was beating faster now. He had seen every emotion Hermione was feeling in her endless brown eyes and he couldn't take it. He wanted to make it all better, to keep her safe forever, to love and hold her, to give up the stupid job in America and just stay with her. Forever. But it couldn't be. He couldn't keep living off of his family's money. He had to make his own fortune in life. He needed to. As much as he loved staying with Hermione almost every minute of every day, he needed to experience the satisfaction and pain you receive from a job. So he had found one. A little inconvenient, yes, but he had found one.
Hermione finally let her hand reach up to her cheeks and wipe away the tears. They kept coming, seemingly on a never-ending cycle at the moment, but the action seemed to hold a sense of resignation in it. "Just answer me this, Draco. Did any of it mean anything to you? Or was it just a game? Was there ever a time when you loved me?" The tears seemed to come at a more rapid pace as she revealed the fear she had been storing ever since she had found out he was leaving her. Why did he want to leave?
"Of course there was," Draco said. His heart shattered again at the idea that she thought he had never loved her. This wasn't about her; it was about him! Why didn't she understand that? "I love you with all of my heart. I need you to survive. You were the person who finally dug me out of my hole and helped me see the light."
"Then why are you going back inside?" Hermione asked. "Why are you giving up all that I've worked to achieve with you? Why do you have to leave? Why does it have to be this way?"
"This isn't about you, Hermione, it' s about me! I can't keep living off of my family's riches. I need to feel like I've achieved something in my life. I can't do that by just sitting around living happily forever. I need to work. I want to feel like I'm supporting this relationship and when I propose to you, you'll have money to live on."
Hermione let out a sob. "Did... Did you just say you were going to propose to me?" she asked skeptically.
"Hermione, I love you and I would do anything for you," Draco whispered.
"Then do me a favor. Don't break my heart. You've already shattered it beyond anyone's repair but your own. I need you to stay and fix it for me. I need you. How am I going to survive without you there with me?" Hermione sobbed.
"I need to do this. I have to," he said, watching the tears trail down her face at his words.
"Then what are you going to do about us?" Hermione questioned. Draco looked into her eyes and watched as they moved down to look at his pink lips, lust and want forming in her eyes. "We can't have a relationship over seas, so what are you going to do?"
Draco couldn't handle it. He stepped forward so that Hermione was looking up at him and whispered "This," before kissing her passionately on the lips. Both of their chests were heaving from the energy they had been using up for the past hour. All emotion seemed to have been drained from their bodies and both were left with the desperate need they had for the other one to show them just how much love they truly possessed. Hermione had only hesitated for a second, due to surprise, when Draco had started kissing her, but after feeling the amazing sensation she received from his lips covering her own, she soon realized that she needed this. She wanted this. Her hands began to snake their way up to his delicate mop of bleach-blond hair and entwine themselves among the many strands. Draco's own hands were moving down to the small of her back and pulling her forward so that their chests were pressed together and not a breath of wind could pass between them. Hermione let out a moan of longing as she felt his tongue slip along her lips, asking for entry. Without hesitation, she allowed him to quickly pry his way inside, his tongue battling with her own as they stood there, forgetting their previous distress and concentrating on one thing only.
Each other.
Draco was getting restless. He began to, slowly, move Hermione backwards toward the wall, which was about five feet behind her, without ever breaking their contact. When Hermione's back finally reached the wall, Draco pressed her against it, holding her in place with his own body. He then proceeded to remove his lips from hers, replacing them on the sides of her face, then her ears, then her neck. As his hands began to move upwards, toward her perfectly formed, in his opinion, curves engulfing her chest, Hermione stopped him. She pushed him away and just stood there, her back leaning against the wall, her body panting from their intensity. His own condition was not much, if any, better. Nevertheless, as they both stood there, recovering from the odd moment that had just taken place, smiles began to peek out from the corners of their mouths.
It took Hermione a good two minutes to finally get her breathing under control and recall the incident they had recently been fighting about. As she did so, a wave of distress seemed to wash over her. "Are you really leaving?" Hermione asked, a new tear making a trail down her face. Draco let his thumb stop it when it reached the corners of her lips. Without stepping any closer, he lightly caressed her cheek and watched as her eyes closed at his touch.
"I have to, Hermione," Draco answered softly, regretting every word he was being forced to utter. "We've been out of Hogwarts for three years now and I still haven't done anything with my life."
"You've made me happy," Hermione answered, still holding on to denial. "You... you can't just leave me here."
"Then come with me," Draco tried, excitement entering his voice as he thought of the possibilities they could withhold if they both moved to America for his new job. "We could live together, get married... I just... I don't want to leave you."
"Then don't," Hermione whispered, clenching her eyes shut against the world. She shook her head and continued. "Draco, I... I can't leave London. I've finally made something with myself. This is my home. I can't just leave it."
Draco leaned down and kissed her softly on the lips. "I love you, you know that, right?"
Hermione smiled at him behind her tears. "Of course I do. I need you here, though."
Draco sighed, stepping back from her in the process and rubbing his face with his hands. "I can't, Hermione. I have to go. I need to do this. For us. I need to get a job and make something of myself," Draco responded.
"Then get a job here. Why do you need to move to America to find a job?" Hermione asked, holding on to every last shred of hope she could find. She didn't want to lose him. "Just, stay here. With me. Find a job here. Just, please. Don't go." Another tear followed the previous one as she watched emotion after emotion erupt on his perfect face and then wash away as if an invisible force was keeping it at bay.
"I have no choice. People started moving out of London after the war hit, you know that. There just aren't many job openings here," Draco reasoned. "And I need a job. I'm so sorry, Hermione. I have no choice."
"No." Hermione whispered, defeat evident in her voice. "Don't. You can't. I can't. Draco, please! I can't. You can't go! I need you!" Hermione sobbed. She leaned forward and allowed him to embrace her one last time, his muscular arms wrapping around her frail body and enveloping her. Her body shook with the force of the tears, but it only caused him to hold her tighter. He was determined to take away all of her pain and load it to his own shoulders before he left her.
They stayed that way for five minutes, neither of them speaking, both of them refusing to let go of the other. But after the minutes had passed, Hermione removed herself from his grasp just enough to look into his eyes. Draco leaned down and kissed the top of her head, letting his eyes close as he left his lips sitting there. Hermione, too, had her eyes closed.
Finally, Draco whispered in a tone barely audible, "I have to go. My colleagues are waiting for me at the apparition point three blocks from here."
Hermione looked at him, her eyes glistening. "No. Please don't," she whispered. She could literally feel her heart breaking into two pieces of unequal size. You always hear about that sensation in books, movies, tales, but she had never realized that the sensation could actually happen, that she would ever be able to actually feel it. But now she could. She ran her fingers over the place in her chest where she could feel the splitting sensation occurring.
Draco backed away, his front facing her the whole time as he carefully backed up toward the door. "I love you, Hermione. Don't ever forget that. I love you so much. Please, write to me."
"Draco," she cried, her voice cracking. "No. Don't. Don't go. Draco, please. Please! Don’t go! No!" Tear after tear erupted from her eyes, running down her face as she fell to her knees, sobbing into her hands. As she sat there on the floor, she continued to whisper the same word, over and over again, as if trying unsuccessfully to engrave it in her mind.
"No..."
Draco walked forward so he was directly in front of her and kneeled down so that his right hand was resting on the top of her head and his left was clutching her hand. He then took the opportunity to whisper one last thing to her before leaving. "You helped me live, Hermione. You need to let me go. I need this, and I promise I'll come back. I promise. I love you so much."
And he was gone.
That was it. Hermione stayed on the ground in the kitchen of her flat for two days. She didn't sleep, she didn't eat, she barely moved at all. Ginny Weasley came to visit her on the third day of her solitude. She had received a notice from Hermione's manager asking if she knew why Hermione hadn't shown up for work in two days. Still, Hermione barely ate. Her soul seemed to have followed Draco to America to a point of no return. Her life was over, and she knew it. How could it go on without him in it? How could she continue living at all?
A week passed and finally, a brown eagle owl flew through the window of Hermione's flat. Detaching the letter, she opened it up and read the words inside.
The day I find it will be the day I stop loving you.
I will come back. I promise you. Wait for me until then.
~Draco
Love is a strange thing. It can be a lifesaving experience or it can cause the ultimate suffering. For Hermione Granger, love plagued her life. It turned her perfect, wonderful, beautiful life into a life she never wanted to look back on.
Draco Malfoy did come back, although the condition in which she saw him when he finally returned was about as far from what she had hoped for as she had expected. Draco Malfoy was returned to Hermione in a pine box, with a dark, maple coat of finishing on it. He had gone to America to become an Auror for the ministry in a town not far from Washington, D.C. It was hidden from Muggles but very similar to the capital the Muggles used; except, of course, the obvious differences such as the main attractions. Unfortunately, an article accompanied the newspapers, about a year and a half after Draco left Hermione, stating that Death Eaters, who had escaped Azkaban and fled to America to escape the Aurors, had killed him in a surprise attack.
Hermione was devastated and had been extremely close to committing suicide because of the incident. The only thing that had saved her was Harry, bursting into the room and wrapping her in his arms. That had been the start of their relationship. Harry knew that he would never be able to replace Draco and that their relationship was only because of a default, but he loved her nonetheless. They were eventually married in a church in England, Hermione wearing a white wedding dress and crying all the way down the aisle. Her tears had erupted not from despair alone, but from confusion. Why was she following through with this? Why was she marrying Harry? Why did life have to be this way?
A tear is an interesting substance. Not many things are created from emotion. For a tear to truly be a tear, it must come from a person's eyes. Scientists can recreate its substance, but it will never be an actual tear until it is created by a person's body and emotion and falls from their eyes.
A/N: Well, are you as sad as I am? I think I cried three times at least while writing this story and I hate ending it this way! I hate it because I don't like sad endings! But I had to do what I felt was right. I am thinking of creating a full-length fiction that I would write as a sequel to this story. I have a basic idea of what it would be about so if you would like information on it, contact me or write your email address in a review and I'll send you more information. If you have any ideas for a sequal or anything else relating to this story, (or not, whatever you want to write is fine :)) please leave a review with your thoughts and thank you so much for reading this story. I would like to thank my truly wonderful beta reader, HavaBisqitPotter. Thank you!
Love to you all!
Caitlyn, PhoenixCGandAC