I Never Had a Choice

Chapter 30- Mourning

*TRIGGER WARNING: some mention of Suicide in this chapter. If this may affect you, I ask that you skip this chapter.*

I shouldn't have done that. I. Should. Not. Have. Done. That.

Kissing Granger was the best and the worst thing I could have possibly done. It was the best because it took my mind off everything. I didn't have to think about how everything is crashing down around me. It was just her lips on mine, nothing else mattered. Which is why it was the worst thing I could have done, because I never want to stop. I want to kiss her forever and not think about it.

But I can't.

She doesn't see me like that. She sees me as a potion gone wrong. She wants to fix me and make me perfect. She doesn't want anything else. She was just trying to back me off of that edge.

I am a cunning arsehole. I'm not a long term Hermione Granger love interest. I am a guy that every girl wanted to be with because I'm attractive and rich. I've never been seen as a person.

I'm a bank vault full of Gallions. I am I handsome face on a toned body. I am a seeker for the quidditch team. They don't see me as someone who feels anything. But that's my fault. I never let them see my emotions. I just wish, for once, that someone would look at me as a person. Not as a face, or a body, or a bank vault. But as an actual living, breathing, feeling person.

I slide down to sit on the floor in front of the fireplace and look around at the papers that are scattered about. According to the Ministry of Magic, these papers are Mother's life. Everything she's ever done is listed out in this paperwork.

Or so they say.

What they don't have listed out is all the times she stayed up with me and held me when I was upset. What they don't say is how hard she tried to talk me out of becoming a Death Eater. They don't say how many books she read while she stayed up with me when I was sick. They don't say how many hits she took for me. They don't say how she saved me. Or how much I strive to be as strong as she was.

I fold my arms over my knees and just let it out. I bawl into my knees. The tears flow down my face as the screams escape my throat. She's gone. Mother is gone. Narcissa Malfoy is gone.

My mother is gone and my life is falling apart. My school work has suffered all year, and I'm so close to losing my HeadBoy position. I have Mother's affairs to get in order. I have a dance to help plan. I have school work piled up on my desk. But the only thing I can do is cry and scream.

"I can't do this. I can't do this. Mother, I need you. Please, just come back. Help me," I cry out. "You can't leave me like this. I can't handle all this. I need you. How am I supposed to do all of this by myself?"

I feel a pair of arms wrap around my shoulders, but I can't bring myself to care. I turn and cry into their shoulder, "I can't do this."

The person starts stroking my hair, "Shhh, it's okay. Just let it out. You're okay."

"No I'm not. I'm broken. I'm screwed. Nobody wants me. I'm failing school. I'm going to fail life."

The person hugs me close, "No you're not. Shhhh. It's alright."

We stay in that position for a few minutes or hours, I'm not sure. But they hold me and stroke my hair, and for that time, it's like Mother is holding me. Until I pull away.

"Hermione."

"Hey you," she smiles and wipes my tears. "Wanna play a game?"

I shrug, "Whatever."

"Truth or dare?" Hermione asks with expectance in her eyes, I know she wants me to choose truth, she enjoys asking me questions and watching me have an internal fight on whether or not I should tell her the truth.

"Truth," I speak without emotion. I can see her face light up, I know I made a mistake, but I also know that I need to be honest if I ever want her to trust me.

"What do you pray for the most?"

I'm  stunned, this wasn't what I expected. I answer, "Depends on the day. " I can tell this confused her so I continue, "Some days I pray for patience. Other days I pray for a gun."

"A gun? Why a gun? That's muggle, so why would you need it when you can use your wand?" She asks, I can tell I freaked her out. I knew being honest would backfire.

"Because if I use my wand it'll be traceable. If I use a gun, nobody would know until it was too late. And even then, it could take months, days, even years to find me. Maybe it's better that way." I say nonchalantly without making eye contact. I know I won't be able to handle the look she's giving me. So without another word, I get up and go to bed, I'm not tired, but I don't want to answer anymore questions tonight. I know I'll be bombarded with them in the morning, but that can wait until then.