Hermione told herself to not fall in love during the apocalypse.
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Dramione post-war fic. (COMPLETED)
18+
ALSO AVAILABLE TO READ ON MY AO3 (the username is @sixth_senses).
It took a while, a long while, for those words to stop replaying inside of Draco's head.
I'll see you, I'll see you, I'll see you.
Because he doesn't.
Draco didn't know how long he waited, sitting by the door, waiting for Hermione to come home.
A week, a month, two months. He ended up loosing count. He lost count the first time he crumpled to the ground with his head in his hands, his chest burning with grief.
He believed Hermione would come back, eventually.
He believed Hermione would come back, safe, to him.
But when he crossed the kitchen and saw the scissors Hermione dropped onto the counter the day she left, building with a similar layer of dust to the glasses that sit beside it-he knew she was gone.
Draco wanted to believe she had been rescued, taken far away until she can rescue him too.
Maybe she had remembered her life in the before. Maybe the memories had come back. Maybe she realised there was more out there for her happiness than Draco and the bathtub.
But Draco knew she was most likely taken to the Graveyard.
As Draco sat by the front door, his eyes streaming, he pulled his feet up onto his lap and traced the letter on his on his foot. H.
She has loved you forever, Draco. Even in the before. When magic flooded your veins. When you were cruel. When you were venomous. She always loved you, even if you cannot remember it.
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Thank you for reading. Reminder to follow me on tiktok; my username is @sixth_senses Don't forget to check out my other story - Anchor and Rose.
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