Chapter 9 : IX
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Hermione was torn, she wanted to stay and be with her loved ones and yet she ached to find Draco. She could not believe he had killed his own father and could only imagine he must be going mad with grief. And why had he killed him; for her? She could hardly wrap her brain around that thought, she felt insane even thinking it. There was no way he would have done that, absolutely no way.
“Hermione, where are you going?” Ron asked his voice hoarse from crying. She had not even realized her feet had started to carry her away from the Weasly’s kitchen and out the back door. It was as if she was under some sort of spell. She turned and groggily looked at Ron.
“Where are you going?” he asked again. She shook her head, she didn’t even know.
“I,” she stumbled with her words, “I need to,” but she just couldn’t admit it to Ron’s broken eyes.
“You are going to him aren’t you?” He asked anger filling his tone. She just stood there and blankly looked at him, how was she supposed to answer him?
“My sister is dead because of him and his kind and you are just going to run after him like some love sick puppy?” he asked, rather demanded at this point.
“He killed his father,” she said barely above a whisper, tears filling her eyes.
“So,” Ron spat. “As far as I am concerned he deserved to die.”
“It isn’t how you think Ron,” she started to try and explain. “He has no one, no one cares about him.”
“So it’s your job to care about those who deserve no such emotion?” he argued.
“You will never understand Ron,” she sighed as tears started to stream down her face.
“No Hermione I won’t,” he said hotly, “She was my sister, your best friend and Harry’s life how can this possibly compare to him and his loss?”
“It doesn’t, but that does not mean he is not entitled to grieve and he should not have to do it alone,” she stated her voice more stern, “If you never forgive me then I guess I will understand but this is just something I have to do.” And with those words she disapparated.
Draco stared at the moon; it had always held something unknown to him. He wished right now he could go there and be alone for the rest of his life. He had killed the man that he knew as his father and was changing more and more since he learned the truth. He could feel the evil coursing through his veins.
CRACK! The sound startled him though he didn’t flinch. He knew it was her, he knew she would come. He wished she hadn’t but she did. He could feel his love for her leap into his chest and at the same time he felt the sinister part of him burn hate for her.
“Draco,” she softly said.
“Don’t come any closer,” he demanded as gently as he could. He would not turn to look at her; he could not let her see what he was becoming. There was a long pause and he could tell it was killing her to stay so distanced from him.
“Why?” she finally asked. And he knew what she meant.
“Your life means more then his ever would.” He answered.
“Tell me the truth Draco,” she said. She always knew when he was lying. He hated it.
“That is the truth,” he said. He heard her move closer. Without thinking he turned and looked at her, his eyes pleading her to stay away.
Hermione gasped in shock. It wasn’t that he looked ill but something far worse. She could sense the evil from him and it terrified her. But her fear was not as strong as her love for him, and she took another step closer.
“Please Mione,” he begged her, “Don’t come any closer I do not know what I will do.”
She studied his face. It was hard and paler then usual. He had deep circles under his eyes, but his eyes alone still held kindness. A kindness only she was familiar with. Swallowing any trepidation she had she walked all the way to him, took his face in her hands and stared intensely into his eyes. He shivered at her touch. He wanted to both strangle her and kiss her. He could not distinguish which feeling was stronger; he only hoped it was his love for her and not the seeding hate he could not control.
“Tell me the truth, Draco,” she persisted. He tried to look away from her but her eyes were too compelling.
“He came there to kill you,” he answered in defeat.
“But you had to kill him?” she asked
“He would have never stopped until you took your last breath.” He replied.
“I don’t understand Draco,” she said pulling her hands away from his face but not taking her eyes off him, “Your own father?” It was now he knew he would have to tell her everything, and then say goodbye.
“He wasn’t my father,” he said quietly. She shook her head in confusion. But before she could ask any questions he started to explain.
“I learned tonight that I am a horrible monster. Lucius was never my father, only assigned to look after me and my mother. He was a guardian of sorts I assume. I guess now I can understand why he resented me my entire life. My mother confessed that Voldemort is my father; she was apparently his chosen one to carry his heir. Her pure blood line was exactly what he needed. And she has explained to me that well basically in about two more days I am going to become the next Dark Lord. It doesn’t even make sense to me yet.” He said with a huge exhale.
Hermione stared at him half in shock and half in horror. He reached down and took her hands and pressed them against his chest, near his heart.
“Don’t you see Hermione, if all she says is true and I know it is because I can already feel it; we can never be together. I will be torn between loving you and hating you. I killed Lucius tonight because no matter what I become even if I can’t be with you as long as I know you are living there is a part of me that is still good. Some where on this earth and that would be where ever you are, you will have that part of me. As long as you live you will hold my sanity, even if I am without it.” He said.
She was crying now, she didn’t know what to believe. She started to back away from him and it was then he grabbed her fiercely by the arms and pulled her up almost off the ground and as close to his face as he could.
“You have to go back to him, you have to get them to forgive you and you have to promise to never look for me again.” He hissed, and the fact that his demeanor had changed so suddenly frightened her even more, but not enough to defy his demand.
“You can not force me to stop loving you, and as long as I love you I will look for you,” she cried.
“Don’t you understand,” he said and he lightly shook her not even realizing he had done it, “I can’t control myself around you. Right now even I want to kiss you and then this other half of me wants to kill you,” he said, his voice shaking now with mixed emotions and the sheer fear of the truth his words held.
Without thinking Hermione broke free from his hold, threw her arms around his neck, pulled him in as tight as she could and kissed his lips. He tried to fight it but he couldn’t resist her. He kissed her back with such force that he bit her lip, and the taste of her blood in his mouth set his soul on fire. But as the anger and hate tried to build a stronger force was taking over, his love for her was winning. The love they had never lost was pushing past his hate for what she was.
“I will never stop loving you, Draco” she whispered in between kisses. Her words sent shivers down his spine. He knew she would never stop and that frightened him worse then the reality of his identity.
He pulled her closer to him and whispered, “Love may be the death of you.” He pushed her away from him gently as he could and disapparated. She didn’t fear him and it was because of that he feared the worst.
A/N: Hope you liked this chapter =)
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