Chapter Twenty

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Hermione

"It's getting late," I say to Ron and Harry, "Perhaps we should head back inside."

"I agree," Ron says, rubbing his arms to fight off the strong chill in the air, "Let's go." We all begin heading to the main entrance of the castle. It's quite dark outside, and the temperature is almost bone-chilling; but, as always, none of us remembered to bring a jacket. A variety of sounds come from the Forbidden Forest, and the only light comes from the full moon and the dimly-lit castle windows. Overall, it creates an uneasy atmosphere... and the silhouette in the distance doesn't help.

I squint my eyes, trying to get a better view. Ron and Harry are deep in conversation, so I take their distraction as a chance to sneak off. As I get closer, I realize that the shape is definitely a person. They're slouched against the castle, barely moving at all. I edge closer to them, making sure my footsteps cannot be heard.

"Hermione!" I hear Harry's voice call, and the person jumps, looking around. I press myself against the wall and hold my breath, taking every precaution to not be seen. I wait a moment before tilting my head slightly to look at the person in the distance. They have relaxed, and I watch as they slide down the castle walls until they're sitting on the damp ground. They look around once more before hugging their knees and hanging their head. I take advantage of their unwise action by inching closer to them. I slowly reach for my wand, only to find that it isn't there. Oh well.

Finally, I'm standing directly beside the person. The moonlight reveals more of their appearance, and it was the only thing I needed to see to realize who it is: platinum blonde hair. Draco.

I reach down and stroke his hair softly, and he jumps, looking up at me with fear in his eyes and taking a sharp breath. His right hand is firmly grasping his left arm, which is no longer bandaged. He looks like a scared child.

"Draco," I say calmly, "it's me. It's Hermione." His expression softens once his mind registers my face and voice. I sit down beside him and grab his hand.

"I didn't... I didn't know who you were. I thought it would be..." He stops talking, trying to catch his breath.

"Who?" I ask, gently rubbing my thumb along his, "Who did you think I was?" Draco closes his eyes and rests his head against the castle walls. I watch him for a moment, noticing all that has changed in the past few days. He seems to be even paler than usual, and profound dark circles surround his eyes. He is thinner than he was just last week. I suddenly realize just how much I yearn to see his beautiful smile, to see the way it lights up his face once again. But from what I can tell, that won't happen for a while.

I lean over and kiss him, like I've been aching to do for days; but his lips remain motionless on mine. I pull away, leaving my hand placed on his cold cheek. His hand reaches up and covers mine, and he looks into my eyes.

"I can't stay here," He says. He gently removes my hand from his face, but keeps it enclosed in his.

"What do you mean?" I ask, concern edging it's way into my voice.

"I can't stay here," He repeats, "At Hogwarts."

"Draco," I whisper, in shock, "no. You have to stay, you can't just-"

"What's the point of it? I spend every minute trying to ignore the nasty looks I get in the hallways. People talk awfully about me, and they don't try to hide the fact that no one would care if this injury just so happened to kill me." He stops, tears forming in his eyes.

"You're Head Boy. Surely that has to mean something to you." I argue.

"Nothing means anything to me anymore, Hermione! Nothing but you!" He takes my hand and places it on his heart. "You feel that? That's for you. You're the reason I get up every morning. You're the reason I put up with all of the torment. You are my world, my everything. And frankly, without you, my life would be a living hell." Tears are falling from my own eyes now, as his eyes look at me, glistening. The look he gives perfectly captures every word he just said. I look at my hand, which he is still holding on his heart. "As long as my heart beats, it beats for you. And until my last breath, your name is the only one I will speak." A single tear cascades down his cheek. I give a small smile and kiss him once again; this time, he kisses me back.

"I love you." I whisper.

"I love you too," He responds, "which is why I have to let you go." My heart skips a beat.

"Draco, that doesn't make any sense, please don't-"

"Hermione, I do love you. And I want to make you happy... I just can't do that."

"That's all you ever do: make me happy! Please, you have to see that. My time with you has been so amazing, and it has perhaps been the happiest time of my life."

"Ask yourself this: how many times have you cried since we've been together? How many of your relationships have been damaged because of me?"

"None of that matters. You just... You came into my life and changed it for the better. And recently, I've realized even further that I care about you more than anything. It's natural for me to be upset when something happens to you," I explain, trying my best to reason with him. "When you're in love, your feelings are connected. When they soar, you soar. When they fall, you fall, too. But you make sure they get up before you do, because you would do anything to preserve their happiness," He looks away for a moment before looking at me once more. "So please, my love, don't let this fact lead you to make a bad decision. Stay with me." Our eyes look deeply into each other's as he contemplates his response, and I can sense a connection that I've never felt before.

After a brief moment of thinking, he says, "Always." Finally, he kisses me, and I smile, taking his hand. We stand up.

"Come on, let's head back inside. It's too cold out here, and I don't want you to get sick." I start walking, but he stays put, looking over his shoulder, obviously concerned.

"Draco, what is it?" I ask, and he squints his eyes before looking back at me.

"The forest..." He answers, shaking his head. His hand lets go of mine, and he puts it around my waist. His grip is tighter than usual. We walk back inside, taking pleasure in something we used to take for granted: each other's company.

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