My love will be in you
If you be the one to cut me
I will bleed forever
- Ghost Love Score by Nightwish
by Eilime
The library was almost empty when I heard him mutter “Hi.”
I looked up from my newly finished charms essay and surveyed him. He looked somewhat better; he still wore those dark circles under his eyes and he still looked as if he hadn’t slept in six months, but there was a slight improvement in his features. Maybe it was just the almost unnoticeable smile that graced his lips.
“Hi,” I replied with a daring smile of my own.
He sat down at my table and looked at his folded hands in front of him.
“Thank you for last night,” he muttered, and then snorted slightly. “I don’t seem to be doing anything but thanking you at the moment.”
“It’s a nice change,” I replied.
He glanced at me, and then looked away again.
“It was…” he hesitated, “somewhat… nice.”
“And unbelievably unusual,” I added, knowing how it must have taken him a lot to say that our conversation the previous night had been nice, and not wanting him to feel awkward about it.
“Hell, yeah,” he replied with a sigh. Of relief, I supposed.
“So…” I began hesitantly, not knowing what to say. “How was your day?”
“Boring as usual,” he replied mechanically.
“Not a school enthusiast?” I asked, smirking.
He looked up and returned it. “Definitely not. Not that I don’t like some subjects.” Then apparently thinking about it, he corrected, “‘Some’ as in ‘a few’… as in ‘two’, actually. Potions. And Defence Against the Dark Arts. Pretty fascinating, when we have a decent teacher, that is.”
True to my own self, I couldn’t help but blurt out, “That’s it? You only like two subjects? Out of all the captivating and inspirational subjects Hogwarts has to offer?”
Malfoy looked highly amused. “Loony, aren’t I?”
“Well… yes.”
Malfoy chuckled and let me have my opinions apparently as he changed the subject, “Come up to the North Tower tomorrow night, will you?”
“Oh, Malfoy, no,” I replied incredulously. “Not again!”
“No, not to help me,” he corrected hastily. “Just to… be there.”
“Oh…” I looked intently at him, willing his eyes to tell me something, anything, about that unexpected request. He didn’t elaborate, though, but merely awaited my answer, his face unreadable. “Of course…” I mumbled, feeling it was the only answer I could give.
He nodded and rose from the table, heading out of the library.
I stood in front of the small wooden door, contemplating what I’d find on the other side. Wondering why Malfoy had wanted me to come, even though he didn’t have a ‘meeting’ with the unidentified brutal person. My hand stretched out towards the doorknob. Hesitating, I folded my fingers and withdrew my hand. Though, as if my consciousness mentally kicked me, I grasped the handle and pulled open the door.
He was standing by the railing, alone. I walked slowly towards him. He turned around and nodded as in way of greeting, and sat down on the ground with his back against the stone railing. Walking up to him, I sat down next to him and muttered, “Good evening.”
“Hey,” he replied simply.
We didn’t say anything for a few minutes, and I felt terribly awkward. Malfoy, however, broke the silence with a shocking statement.
“I’ve got a present for you,” he said with a crooked smile.
I furrowed my eyebrows slightly and watched him extract something small from his pocket. He held it hidden inside his palm and said, “Put out your hand.”
He apparently sensed my hesitation, and so continued, “Don’t worry, it’s nothing lethal.”
“Let me guess,” I put in, a knowing smirk on my lips, “But I might loose my hand?”
“Well… I can’t deny that,” he replied with a grin. I eyed his hand warily, and he continued, “You’re just going to have to trust me.”
I raised a single eyebrow at that and looked him in the eyes, but he seemed to be sincere, and so, without knowing how sensible I was being, I stretched out my hand.
“Close your eyes,” he instructed.
I gave him a distrusting look, but closed my eyes nonetheless.
I felt him take hold of my hand with one of his, and shortly after got the feeling of something small and smooth falling into my palm. He let go of my hand and muttered, “All right, open.”
I hesitantly opened my eyes, but when I did, they fell upon nothing lethal, and nothing hand-threatening, for sure, but a small, deep red thing “ a cherry.
I chuckled at the innocuous fruit in my hand, and looked up to meet his eyes; they were in no doubt enjoying my surprised expression.
“Erm… thank you,” I said, looking strangely at the tiny fruit. “Though, I don’t really like cherries.”
“You don’t say,” he grinned. “Fine then.” And he took the cherry out of my hand and propped it into his mouth, savouring its taste. He spit the stone out onto the ground and turned to me saying, “Yum.”
“I’m glad you liked your own gift,” I replied with a smile.
“How was I to know you didn’t like cherries?” he asked with a wink.
“Beats me,” I answered sarcastically.
I looked away from his grin to face the sky. A raindrop had hit my hand as it rested on my knee, and, looking up, another hit my nose and trickled down its side. More came and I put out my hand, palm up, and let their coolness tickle my skin.
“I love the rain,” Malfoy said from beside me.
I looked at him and saw how he was, like me moments before, facing upwards, his eyes closed, letting raindrops caress his skin.
We stayed out there in the rain for a long time. No words were spoken, none needed to be, as we inhaled the smell of rain, how it seemed to clean the air, washing old grudges away with its clarity.
Breakfast on a Saturday morning was always a loud affair. Having slept later than on weekdays, the students were more rested and eager to use this day of relaxation.
I was sitting at the Gryffindor table with Harry and Ron, buttering a piece of toast.
“Harry, would you pass me some marmalade?” I asked.
“Sure,” he replied and handed me a jar with a deep red substance.
“This is cherry marmalade,” I pointed out.
“Yeah, and it’s good,” he responded and turned to his own breakfast.
I put the jar down, suddenly fancying honey instead.
Whereas Harry and Ron begrudgingly went to do their Transfiguration assignments that required a lot of time and energy and that I had, of course, finished a few days earlier, I went outside with Charm the Charmed to rest underneath a tree and enjoy being ahead in homework.
I sat down underneath a large tree a bit further around the lake where I found privacy and solitude.
Privacy and solitude, however, was deprived from me when someone shouted, “Boo!”
I shrieked in surprise and whipped around the find no one there. I got up and walked around the tree, yet only to find grass and bushes. Thinking it was Harry underneath the Invisibility Cloak, I said, “You should be studying.”
“And now you’re dictating me?” someone asked, from above. Someone who indeed wasn’t Harry.
I looked up into the tree and saw Malfoy sitting on one of its larger branches. “What are you doing up there?” I asked.
“Enjoying privacy and solitude,” he replied lightly. “That is, before you interrupted.”
“Well, I can go,” I replied indignantly.
“No need,” he responded and jumped down from the tree, landing a few metres away from me. “Enjoying the weekend? With… a book?” he added, casting Charm the Charmed a funny look. “How unlike you, Granger.”
“Rebellious, aren’t I?” I cajoled, mimicking his choice of words from an earlier conversation.
“Scandalously.”
I grinned as I sat down again against the tree trunk.
“Got a present for you,” Malfoy announced, as he sat down across from me.
“Another cherry?” I queried, eyebrows raised.
“A cherry?” he asked, frowning. “Why could I give you a cherry, you hate cherries.”
I smiled, as he prompted, “Close your eyes.”
“All right.” I closed my eyes and stretched out my hand. “It better not be redcurrant.”
I heard him chuckle as he dropped something into my palm. It was round and velvety, and definitely larger than a cherry.
“Open,” I heard him instruct, and I opened my eyes to see an orange fruit. “Apricot,” he stated with a half smirk.
I smiled as I looked down at the soft fruit resting innocently in my palm. “Thank you,” I muttered, lifting the apricot to my lips. “It’s not poisoned, is it?”
“Of course it is, what other goal could I have?” he replied casually. “It’s certainly not just an act of… what’s the word? Mindness… No, blindness… Kindness! That’s the one.”
Watching him smirk, I took a large bite of the sweet fruit and chewed it with gusto.
I could see how much better he was doing; he looked healthier, stronger and more comfortable. A few days had passed since the apricot incident in which we hadn’t spoken, but he had, however, smiled slightly at me whenever our paths crossed in the corridors.
Thursday morning one of the school owls delivered my daily edition of the Prophet, though with it, this time, was a note attached. I paid the owl and unfurled the little note.
Come to the North Tower tonight if you can. I’m going to need your help.
- DM
Knowing what he meant, my heart started beating slightly faster. It was one of those mysterious ‘meetings’ that left him unable to walk back down the corridors towards his Common Room without sliding down the stone walls in fatigue.
I looked over at the Slytherin table to find him in a reluctant conversation with another Slytherin boy.
I made the note vanish with a flick of my wand and headed towards my first class of the day, dreading the night.
That evening, I left the Common Room earlier than the other times I had found him jaded underneath the North Tower, now wanting to be there in good time. I walked along the final hallway in which the stairs to the Tower ascended, when I saw him coming down them and out into the corridor, holding a piece of parchment. But he wasn’t tired, weak-looking, or paler than he had been that morning. He did look slightly pained, though, but still had an air of confidence as he stood there crumbling the piece of parchment in his hand, watching it vanish as he reopened his palm. He looked up at me then, as I stood there transfixed, having stopped in the middle of the corridor. He walked swiftly towards me and when he reached me, he, to my great surprise, embraced me in a hug. I patted him somewhat awkwardly on the back, praising the moment when he let go of me again.
“So…” I began, not certain how to respond to this change of attitude. “Good, er, meeting?”
“Well, actually no, but in a way, yes,” he replied ambiguously.
“Erm, all right,” I replied uncomprehendingly.
“I know you don’t understand,” he said, “and you probably never will because--”
“You can’t tell,” I put in dryly.
“Right, so let’s just get out of here before a teacher comes by.” He took hold of my upper arm and steered me down the corridor from where I had come, and then, reaching the grand staircases, we went our separate ways, I walking in perplexity yet newfound happiness.
The next morning, Friday, at breakfast, the first thing I did was look in the direction of the Slytherin table to see if Malfoy was still in that inexplicable good mood or if he had deflated by now. He was, however, still in high spirits it seemed, and the dark circles under his eyes were almost unnoticeable.
One of the school owls arrived with my daily edition of the Prophet, once again with a letter attached. I unfolded it and read the shortest note I’d ever received.
NT 8PM
- DM
I chuckled at Malfoy’s succinct letter but understood the abbreviation. I just hoped it wasn’t an urgent request, but more like a casual meeting. Even though nothing was casual about Malfoy, I had come to realise.
I spent the day pondering the impending evening; wondering what kind of sight I was to meet.
It turned out, however, that Malfoy had not wanted me to come and help his weakened self.
“Hey,” he smiled as I stepped through the creaking door of the North Tower. That smile still caught me off guard even though he had graced me with it several times already through the previous meetings, but I guessed having spent years believing him physically unable to even get the corner of his mouth to twitch in the direction of an actual smile, still lingered on my mind.
“Hi,” I muttered, smiling shyly back. I walked up beside him as he leaned against the railing with his elbows, overlooking the grounds.
“Had a nice day?” he asked conversationally.
“Erm, yeah, fine,” I replied awkwardly. “You?”
“Boring,” he answered simply.
“Naturally.” I fidgeted with the edge of my robes, wondering what to say. “So, no fruits tonight?”
“Presents aren’t supposed to be quotidian,” he replied, giving me a look as though he thought I was greedy. “Otherwise their meanings will be lost.”
“So the fruits had hidden meanings?” I asked, chuckling. “Secrets?”
“You never know,” he replied, shrugging nonchalantly. “Some day you might get a fruit that positively exudes veiled meanings. Don’t underestimate them.”
“The fruits or their meanings?”
“Both.”
I grinned as I sat down, my back resting against the railing. Malfoy joined me soon after.
“And you were wrong about you not being garrulous,” I said, and he turned his head to look at me. “That letter you sent me this morning. Honestly, next time you want to meet with me, can you be a bit briefer? My eyes were stinging with fatigue already halfway through your loquacious note.”
Malfoy chuckled at my sarcastic input and rested his head against the railing. “You’re not at all as uptight as I thought you were,” he stated.
I raised my eyebrows slightly even though he couldn’t see it. “And you’re not as evil as I thought you were,” I retaliated.
“Wait and see,” he replied, eyes closed.
I straightened up fast, suddenly thinking about why on earth I was there. He apparently sensed my piercing stare, as he opened his eyes and looked at me, asking, “What?”
“You’re joking, right?” I asked, hoping.
“Well, yeah,” he answered as if it was obvious. I gave him a distrusting look, and he added earnestly, “I am.”
Believing him for the moment, I sat back against the railing, though now slightly nervous.
“Believe me,” Malfoy mumbled, something off about his voice, “that was just as shocking for me to hear.”
“What d’you mean?” I asked, looking at him as he frowned slightly.
“Well, I just said out loud that I wasn’t evil,” he told me, still not looking at me.
“Oh,” I uttered, my eyes widening slightly. “So you feel sort of heretical now, I suppose.”
“Heretical,” he nodded, then added, “but honest.”
“Am I the only one who knows?” I asked gently.
“Yeah…” he answered silently.
Neither of us said anything for a while; me, thinking he needed to think without me interrupting.
“I think I’m going to go,” he announced and got up. He held out his hand to me and helped me up but didn’t let go of it when I had got to my feet. “Thank you for coming,” he muttered and squeezed my hand, before turning around and walking away.
I walked out of the great front door that Sunday afternoon, heading for a sheltering tree, a book in one hand. I spotted Malfoy sitting underneath the tree where he had once given me the apricot. I walked over to him, and he looked up at me as I approached. “Hi,” I said as I sat down opposite him.
“Hey,” he replied, putting down the book he had been reading. “I’ve got a present for you,” he said, smirking.
“What now? A pineapple?” I asked, grinning.
“You’ll see. Close your eyes.”
I closed my eyes and let him take my hand. I felt him drop something in my palm, and when he let go of me, I opened my eyes and saw a strawberry, but not just a strawberry “ a half strawberry.
“A half strawberry?” I voiced, frowning up at him.
“I’ve got the other half,” he said, showing it to me, as if it explained everything.
“But you don’t like strawberries,” I pointed out.
He shrugged. “Sometimes you just have to see if what you once thought about something has changed. I might like them now even though I’ve detested them for years.”
“Well, yes, I guess,” I replied. “But that doesn’t explain why you didn’t just give us both a whole strawberry.”
“Now, where would the fun be in that?” he asked, eyebrows raised.
I shrugged and put the sweet fruit to my lips. Malfoy ate his half as well, but when he had swallowed, he said, “Still awful.”
I grinned, but thought it was nice of him to try. “Don’t you think it’s possible to change your mind about something?” I asked.
He considered me for a moment. “Yeah,” he muttered, “I do.” He was looking at me in the most unnerving way, but still, I liked the look. I didn’t know what it meant, but he didn’t break the eye contact and, suddenly, he was leaning over. “Definitely,” I distantly heard him say in the back of my mind, before his lips brushed mine in a soft kiss. I was sitting dead still, too shocked to move. I felt his hand reach around my neck and slowly pull me closer, and I found myself kissing him back. We broke apart slowly and, opening my eyes, I saw him look at me with a slight smile gracing his pink lips.
“Well,” I muttered. “That was unexpected.”
He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. It was good.”
I blushed and looked around myself. He leaned back against the tree trunk and I could feel him surveying me. When I chanced a look at him, however, he had shifted his gaze to his folded hands.
“I’ve been reading about the Dark Mark, you know,” he said without preamble.
I was perplexed by the change of subject, but even more unnerved by possibly finding out what he had read about it, and why. I knew he had been reading about it, since I had found the book several weeks before, but I hadn’t really thought about it since.
“I’ve been searching for a possible way to… deviate from it,” he muttered, still not looking up at me.
My heart skipped a beat. He didn’t want it.
“Can’t you just… not get it?” I asked weakly.
He let out a derisive chuckle. “Too late.”
“You mean,” I breathed, “You mean you’ve already got it?”
He looked up at me now, his eyes uneasily piercing. He only nodded.
I looked helplessly at him for some time, before waveringly asking, “Can… can I see it?”
“No!” he replied quickly, his right arm cradling the left as if protecting it from my gaze. The look in his eyes told me he was ashamed, and I felt my stomach lurching in pity.
“Sorry,” my weak voice hurriedly put in.
He was looking down at his hands again, and I found myself unable to find anything reasonable to say. I shifted my position to sit next to him instead and, biting my lip, I reached out to take his hand. He let me.
I was standing by the stone railing. It had been four days since our last meeting. We hadn’t actually agreed to meet tonight, but I thought I’d chance it. And sure enough, I suddenly heard a creaking sound behind me, signalling the opening of the tower door. I turned around to see Malfoy stepping out and walking towards me.
“Hey,” I mutter, my voice cracking.
“Hi,” he utters, equally silent.
You could tell how we both were embarrassed about what had happened last time, the kiss. I had used the past couple of days in the library trying to find a way to get rid of the Dark Mark, but I had found nothing.
“How long have you been out here?” Malfoy broke the awkward silence.
“Oh, just about ten minutes.”
Malfoy nodded and looked out onto the grounds.
I tried to think of things to say, to start a conversation. I thought about telling him I’d searched for books about the Dark Mark, but telling him I hadn’t found a cure wouldn’t be the best way to start. So, I said nothing and he didn’t seem to have anything to say either, thus we were left to take in the scenery in silence.
I didn’t know how much time passed, but I found myself getting tired and decided to go back to my dormitory. “I think I’m heading off now,” I said quietly, and quickly looked at him before turning around.
He grabbed my wrist, however, and pulled be back with a soft expression on his face. I had expected him to say something, but instead he kept pulling me slowly, until we stood breathtakingly close. Somehow I knew what he was about to do, yet I was still surprised when he tilted my head upwards and dipped down to kiss me. This time I didn’t need a moment or two to compose myself, but instantly returned the kiss.
We broke apart some blissful moments later, to gaze at each other, with amusement, of all emotions, in our eyes.
“You’re definitely not as uptight as I thought you were,” Malfoy smiled, retelling a former remark.
“And you’re not as untalented as I thought you were,” I retaliated, smirking.
“That one was mean,” he replied, though still smiling crookedly.
“That’s me; mean and menacing.”
“And maddening.”
“And magnanimous.”
“Machinating.”
“Majestic,” I smiled haughtily.
“Magniloquent,” he retaliated, smirking.
“Matchless.”
“Maleficent.”
“Magical,” I grinned.
“Mardy.”
“Magnificent.”
“Magnetic,” he muttered and leaned in once again for a swift kiss.
Blushing, I stepped out of his embrace. “We should probably head back to our common rooms.”
“Law-abiding in the most tempting of moments,” Malfoy observed.
He was quite straight-forward, I thought, and I knew I was still sporting that ridiculous blush.
“There’s nothing tempting about this,” I tried, but failed miserably, to state casually.
“Lying in the most tempting of moments,” Malfoy observed, amused. “I thought you praised honesty.”
“Praise, but not practice,” I responded, a smirk tugging at my lips.
“Hypocrite.”
“Hyena.”
“Hyrax.”
“Hippopotamus.”
“That’s with an ‘i’,” he pointed out.
“Your point being…?”
“You’re not following the rules of this game.”
“Oh, so we’re playing a game? I thought we were dealing with a certain situation the adult way,” I said. “Verbal slashing.”
He just shook his head and pulled me back to him. The butterflies came back tenfold as he kissed me again. I thought my stomach would surely burst with all the fluttering of wings, when he hugged me closer.
He grinned as we broke apart. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he muttered.
The sad part was that he was right.
I tried. I really did try. But somehow my head always seemed to look up at him whenever we were eating in the Great Hall. We often made eye contact, and he would wink at me, and I would blush, and he would wriggle his eyebrows, and I would blush deeper.
Two days after our rendezvous up on the North Tower, I got a note from him at the breakfast table, asking me to meet with him that night. I scribbled my reply that I sadly couldn’t since I had made arrangements with Harry and Ron. A couple of days later I got another note asking me to meet with him, but this time I had embarrassingly landed in a detention along with Ron, a detention I really didn’t deserve, but which nonetheless rendered me unable to meet with Malfoy.
Excuses upon excuses seemed to be the only thing I was communicating with Malfoy those days, but however sincere they were and how unfairly placed my arrangements may be, I still found myself having to decline his seventh offer.
I felt horrible as I turned down that last offer and watched as the owl flew back to Malfoy with it attached to its leg.
That night at dinner, I noticed how petulant he looked. He was snapping at the surrounding Slytherins or else stared moodily at his plate. I so wanted to go and talk to him, but once again my schedule was full.
The next day at breakfast, I painfully realised that I should have given him at least a few minutes of my time the previous night. He looked pale and drained, yet frustrated.
I walked after him after breakfast, wanting to have a quick talk with him before heading off for Ancient Runes.
“Malfoy,” I called out when I knew there wasn’t anyone there to see us talk together.
“Stay away,” he replied in a tired mumble, before turning a corner and walking quickly away from me.
My stomach lurched in remorse as I stopped in the hallway to let him go.
Intend upon catching him at another time, I set off for my first class of the day.
He didn’t show up at breakfast the next day, and I was getting anxious when I didn’t see him in potions either. He did, however, turn up at lunch, though the sight of him didn’t console my nerves. He looked drained, and the dark circles under his eyes that had for a long time been so delightfully unfamiliar had returned.
I spent every free second of that day trying to find him and talk to him, but either I couldn’t find him or he avoided me, and so, at eight that evening, I still hadn’t spoken to him, and I found myself walking towards the North Tower in hopes of finding him there.
I stayed up there for almost an hour. He never showed.
I walked back down, through empty hallways, hoping he’d suddenly come out from an alcove before I reached Gryffindor Tower.
Crossing the charms corridor, I noticed something move in the dark. I silently crept down the hallway, my wand at the ready. I couldn’t see much in the dim corridor, but kept my ears alert.
“Stop,” someone suddenly said from somewhere in front of me.
I noticed the voice immediately. “Finally,” I muttered into the darkness. I flicked my wand towards the unlit torches, and we were bathed in an orange glow.
“What are you doing here?” Malfoy asked.
“What are you doing here?” I smiled.
He didn’t smile back. “Leave,” he ordered in a mumble.
“But I want to explain,” I began.
“You’ve already explained in your letters,” he cut in, a derisive note in his voice.
“You believe me, then? That I’ve had so much to do lately.”
“It doesn’t matter now,” he muttered. “Now go.”
“No,” I replied. “Not when I finally am able to talk to you.”
“It’s too late,” he sighed.
“What are you talking about?” I asked. “And where are you going so late at night?”
He sighed heavily, but didn’t say anything for a while. He seemed to be contemplating me for a while. “I don’t want you to feel guilty,” he said tiredly.
“About what?” I asked, puzzled.
“It’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known.”
“What are you talking about?”
“It’s not your fault,” he repeated sadly.
“What is it that I have done?” I asked exasperatedly.
There was silence for a while, in which Malfoy seemed unable to meet my eyes.
“You helped me,” he muttered slowly.
“And that’s a bad thing?”
He fixed his eyes on me and slowly nodded. “It’s what’s been making me weaker,” he croaked. To say I was confused was an understatement; Malfoy seemed ambiguous, enigmatical, and apathetic, and it made me restless.
“But you couldn’t have known,” he continued slowly. “You couldn’t have known he’d find out.”
“Who?”
“Him…”
My mind was reeling. It wasn’t like I had helped Malfoy that much, what could Voldemort accuse him of? And what was all this nonsense about it ‘not being my fault’? What was happening?
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“About what?” I asked silently.
“About everything. But more importantly, what I’m about to do.”
“What are you about to do?”
Malfoy winced as if something had just burned him. I frowned as he reached for his sleeve and pulled it up, revealing a burning Dark Mark on his arm.
Realisation flooded over me. “Is he calling for you?” I asked.
Malfoy nodded. “My last calling.”
“Your last?”
“I’m glad I got to know you better,” he mumbled, taking a step backwards away from me. “Take care.”
“What?” I croaked. “Wait, what do you mean by ‘your last calling’?”
“He’s taking my life, Hermione,” he replied languidly. “I was doing his bidding, reluctantly, and therefore inadequately. He communicated with me through letters. Cursed letters. I could feel myself slipping away. His power over me, and anyone else of his followers for that matter, was too strong to cast away. It’s not easy to turn your back on the Dark Lord. But then you came… you made me stronger. And the Dark Lord felt it. He felt my newfound strength and my more profound reluctance. And he knows the reason for it. He’s been taking bits of my life ever since then. And now it’s my last calling.”
“But… But can’t you just not go?” I asked desperately.
“Whether I die here or there doesn’t really matter, does it?”
“But you said yourself you got stronger. Why can’t you fight it now?”
“I did get more strength. But I lost it again. When I lost you.”
“Don’t say that!” I exclaimed, appalled by the weight he was putting on my shoulders.
“I already said you shouldn’t feel guilty, Hermione,” he hurriedly replied. “I chose to let you help me. I chose to let you affect my life. I chose you. You can’t be blamed for any of my choices.”
“How can I not feel guilty?” I asked despondently.
Draco winced again as the Dark Mark darkened. “I have to go,” he whispered.
I found myself unable to speak; he seemed to have made up his mind. He took my hand in his and gently squeezed it, as he said, “Thank you for everything.”
He kissed my forehead and took a step back. “Bye…” he muttered, and with one last piercing look, he vanished into the darkness, never to return.
My fall will be for you
My love will be in you
You were the one to cut me
So I’ll bleed forever