Here we go... the end. Now don't get angry... I said in the begining that this wasn't going to be a long story. Thank-you so much to everyone who read the story and loved it as much as I do. I hope you like the ending, I thought it fit very well, with not only keeping in mind this story, but the prequel Lost to Memory, as well. So enjoy and thank you all again. Crystal
Right before I drown, she resuscitates me...
"Thank-you for taking the time out of your schedule to meet with me Healer Randall." Lucius said formally before taking a seat on the sumptuous leather sofa.
"I was pleased to hear from you Mr. Malfoy." The healers responded as she took her seat across from him and pulled out a thick folder. "Please, let me also tell you how sorry I am for all the emotional turmoil you must be going through. From what I've seen and gathered, this situation is so heartbreaking."
"It has been difficult, but I have finally been given a taste of hope where none existed before." He smiled which was something he hadn't done for quite some time.
Since Weasley had visited a few days earlier, he had quickly found himself walking with an extra spring in his step and a lighter feeling in his chest. To be honest, he felt younger than he had in years. His life had just seemed to disappear on the day Hermione had married Ronald Weasley. Every moment had increased tenfold since then.
He lived his life in constant fear that her memory would haunt him forever. With every visit that Weasley made, he sat there in terror knowing that the man could possibly tell him that the woman he loved was pregnant or that he wouldn't be continuing his visits. It killed him, the way his thoughts tore him apart.
It wasn't only that, it was the heartbreaking loneliness and the regret that he harbored inside. He, of course, believed that perhaps he deserved it. He knew, that despite his reformation, the core of what and who had been could never be as good as she was.
His thoughts plagued him constantly and he had wondered and wished on several occasions if he was right. Did he make the right decisions in letting her go? Would he do it again, knowing now what he didn't know then? His mind was always on her, always living with her voice in his head, her love running through his veins.
"You have every right to hope, Mr. Malfoy." Healer Randall smiled brightly, leaning forward and placing her hand on his sleeve but then sent him a questioning look. "You don't completely trust what you are hearing, do you?"
"You must understand," Lucius started, his voice faltering slightly as it always did when he spoke of her. "I've lived without her for so long, but in the same moment, it's as if she has been with me all along. I dare not allow myself to linger too long on the possibility of a future."
He watched as she pulled out a thick folder and sat it on the table.
"I have some research I need to do..." She began, standing up from her chair. "Perhaps you would like some time alone to look over her file. We usually don't allow these kinds of things, privacy and all, but I truly feel that the only way to give this situation closure is for you to read about it from a clinical point of view."
"I would greatly appreciate that." He thanked her, his long manicured hands already reaching for the folder.
"I understand that you like facts, Mr. Malfoy." She nodded with approval. "That is something that I can understand. So much of therapy is hypothesis and uncertainty, but we do occasionally get concrete evidence of what's going on."
"Is there much mention of her marriage?" He asked, sounding like a jealous fool, but at the moment, her current marriage was not something that he wanted to know the intimate details of.
Claire Randall smiled compassionately. "No, there isn't. Our sessions pretty much directly focused on the memories that were always out of her grasp." She pointed to the folder again. "In the file, you will find my notes from her sessions as well as the journal that she kept while seeing me. I think that you will find that you were never far in her thoughts."
Lucius stood, it was the gentlemanly thing to do when a lady left the room.
"Thank-you Healer Randall... for everything."
"Think nothing of it. I'm just pleased that we were able to get somewhere and hopefully all of this will end well for all you. To be honest, it's not very often that us healers can get to the bottom of things in this field, so when the results are as satisfactory as they have been in this case... well, I feel quite pleased that I was able to help in any way."
He bowed slightly as she shut the door behind her.
He reached out for the folder after sitting down, but found that his hand was shaking as it reached for the folder. Had she been thinking of him? Her face swam before his eyes and he wondered if his own had crossed her mind as often as it had him the past few years.
He picked the folder up and read.
His hands skimmed over my shoulder and down my arm as I leaned against him. I vaguely remember dark woods and pale carpets. Over the fireplace there is a photograph, a muggle photo, but I can't exactly make it out. I think I was half asleep in the memory.
His chest is bare as I lean against it. I'm relaxed as I rest against his skin. I'm tired, so very tired. It goes deep into my bones. But him, his scent, his touch, his presence... just being with him makes the world disappear.
I can feel his fingers threading through my curls, separating them carefully. My left hand is resting at the corner of his neck. He's so warm, so full of life.
Lucius sat aside another copied page from her journal and rubbed his neck at the base of his skull. He was tired, drained really. He remembered the night that she described. It was one of the worst of his life. It was the night that he not only almost lost Draco. In that dark street, he realized that he had to have her in his life to make him complete. He had decided on that night, during that battle that his life would cease to be his own. His heart, and therefore his life, would be her's.
It wasn't very often that she was able to make it to the manor. The war had escalated to a fiery violence and her presence, as well as his, was required on the battlefields.
When he felt her calling him through his ancestral ring that she now wore, he had been surprised. He had just gotten back from a mission with Severus and Draco for the Dark Lord. There had been a minor skirmish in Diagon Alley as they had come up against the Order.
The three of them had been careful with their spells, never directly harming a member of the Order as they were all on the same side. A stray spell, however, from Dolohov had sent the facade of Flourish and Blotts to come falling down into the street, capturing Draco underneath.
He heard Hermione's cry of anguish as she noticed what had happened. She loved Draco like family now. They had put their past behind them, although on occasions they did slip up. Her shattering cry captured Dolohov's attention once more. The killing curse would have hit her if she hadn't tripped on her way over to the fallen building.
Signaling to the other Death Eater's that it was time to go, they disappeared as Lucius levitated the wreckage off of his son. She rushed over to him and used her own wand to heal not only his cuts but Draco's as well.
"Get him out of here." She cried, while helping him stand with his son in his arms. "Tonight was too close. Go back to the Manor where I know you will both be safe."
He watched as hot tears streaked down her cheeks. Lucius thanked the God's again for giving him this woman.
"As soon as I finish with the order tonight, I'm coming home. I need you, Lucius."
Lucius sat there, he didn't know for how long, the folder opened in his lap with her glimpses of their short life together scattered around him. He couldn't take it anymore.
He needed her. Couldn't live without her any longer.
He quickly cleaned up the mess and shrank the papers into his robes. He politely thanked the healer on his way out, but didn't wait for a reply.
His body and mind were possessed as he ran the cobblestone lengths of Diagon Alley. He ignored the startled looks from the people he passed. His Italian leather shoes were slick on the damp pavement as he passed the various shops that lined the street. His breath was coming hard as the pressure in his chest intensified, his need to touch her and be near her, so great. He caught sight of his image in one of the windows, his robes were swinging around his legs, his hair flying out behind him.
The crowd behind him faded away and the image that was always with him became real, all of her features were there in the glass. It was the first time his mind had conjured her up in such stunning clarity. Then he realized as his heart clenched painfully.
She was there.
He closed his eyes and tried to calm his heavy, erratic breathing. His mind had played this trick on him too many times. Everyday since she had been gone, it wasn't unusual to see an image of her sitting in the library, feel her hand touch his arm across the dinner table.
So he turned slowly, still not opening his eyes, afraid that the vision before him would disappear as it had so many times. He prayed, begged every god that he could think of, that when he opened his eyes, she would still be there.
He counted the seconds until his silver eyes finally opened and looked into her soulful amber eyes.
He simply looked at her. He searched her face, her hair, wanting to see through her to her heart. He could see that her body was visibly shaking as she took him in as well. So many years had passed, he thought, as he stood there in the street with her only a few feet away.
He stretched out his hand as his feet took an unsteady step towards her, a heavy rain began to fall from the sky. He wanted her to move forward, to have the strength to take those few extra steps that he just couldn't find the courage to make.
His heart pounded an excrutiating rhythm as she finally moved, her delicate hand tracing the thread that was now glowing on her skin, the piece of himself that he had left so long ago. The golden path so vibrant and visible on her satin skin. She looked up at him as heavy tears made their way down her graceful cheeks. She took the remaining steps separating them.
He sank to the ground.
He felt her hands threading through his hair as he buried his face into her stomach and wrapped his arms around her, inhaling the scent of lemon and vanilla that was uniquely her, the scent that he had been starving for. If he had lived without her for fifty more years, he knew that he would love her just as much. His love for her was the reason he breathed.
Her fingers slowly swept along his cheeks, brushing off the drops of rain that could have very well been tears. He felt her touch lifting his face up to see hers. Lucius watched in slow detail as she slowly fell to the ground next to him. And then it happened.
Her arms wrapped around him as wracking sobs shuddered through her body. He was home, she was home. They were together. He trailed his hands along her back, moving in slow, comforting circles as he nuzzled his face into her chocolate curls, wishing that he could melt into her so they could never be parted again.
"I don't know who you are." She whispered quietly into his ear, her breath sweat and fragrant against his skin. Hermione brought her face back around to his, her hands on each side of his face, her thumbs exploring the stubble on his cheek. "I don't know who you are, but I want to. I need to. I don't remember everything and I can't promise that I ever will, but I love you. I've loved you for years and I can't be without you. You're a part of me, a piece of my soul that I can't go on without."
Her last words were a trembling cry as his hands wound into her hair and pulled her lips to his. He would take whatever she was offering. This, her being here, touching him... it was enough. If he never saw her again, this would suffice in seeing him through for the rest of his life because she was all he needed.
He pulled back from her slowly and pushed her rain soaked curls off of her face. Lucius searched her eyes for confusion, for signs that she didn't know him. Instead, their depths held clarity and understanding. She didn't need her memories to remember him, he remembered enough for the both of them.
Time seemed to stand still for him as he held her in his arms, simply content to look into her eyes as the rain fell heavily around them. Their clothes were soaked through and a crowd had gathered around them, but he didn't care. To him, this was the culmination of his life. It didn't matter what had happened in their past and the future was still a mystery. He understood that there were no guarantees in this life and he was willing to accept that there was a possibility that this could be it. This was enough.
He pressed his lips to hers once again, placing all the passion and love he could muster into it. He was alive, awakened. This was his happy ending and whatever it turned out to be, he would take it. As he pulled away from her, he looked down at her. Her eyes were shining with tears lining her lashes.