Don't know where this came from! Who's seen HP7 Part 1? It's epic (:

I'm in an angsty mood. All my life seems to be angst - so I hope I've conveyed the mood appropriately!

Enjoy. x

There are words of triumph shouted down the corridor, and Ron and I run after Harry, arms full of Basilisk fangs.

Suddenly, we're in the door and oh, Draco. He's there and I almost forget that there are others are here, because he's alive – he's safe. I did hear rumours that he was punished for his loss of us from the Manor, and it scared me more than a little. (I try to ignore the obvious bruises on his neck and arms - results of the cruciatus curse that I can clearly feel in myself.) There's a little nudge in the back of my mind that I am hurting Ron by this, but I decide he's hurt me more.

"Mudblood," he hisses at me; grey eyes steely and deceitful.

He doesn't mean it.

A part of my heart rips, ever so slightly. He has promised me to never, ever utter that word – even in acting. I almost yell at him, before remembering we're not in love, not here, not now.

Only ever behind close doors and drawn curtains would he ever kiss me tenderly, caressing my face as if it was the most prized jewel in the world. In this room, I am the Mudblood Granger, and he is Malfoy.

He doesn't mean it.

I can barely hear the disagreements of Ron and Harry – my eyes are locked with his ever so tightly that they begin to water. I just hope he doesn't notice - that anyone does. I'm meant to be the strong one, so what would that say if I shed a drop of liquid, translucent pain over a silly, immature word?

Not even if they knew what context it was said it. How much it hurt coming from what he was – what he meant to me. Like any person would need oxygen to breathe, I need the other side of him, the kind and caring and utterly surprising side.

I need him, Draco, like I need blood, magic, friends, happiness (and even books, yes – I could never neglect that part of me). And oh, Ron could never be enough for me.

He doesn't mean it.

Then, I realise when everyone else turns away, running, for one split second that maybe he didn't mean his promise.

It hurts, but I can truly see a world in which he could be and is everything his father ever was.

Then it breaks my heart when he looks at me with pity, confirming everything I've just thought. I try to block him out of my head, but he's too strong and I'm too broken to even stop him. I barely flit through the memories we shared – every happy about them.

Yes, I do believe that it was real, but without the blinding quality of blissful love pulsing through my veins, I can see that in this situation, realistic things are all that are going to be reachable.

"I know," he whispers, almost sounding sad. "We need to be realistic. A relationship needs to be built on more than happiness."

A tear slowly drips down my cheek, the only outward sign of pain, while I scream curses at him in my head.

His arm lifts slowly, almost if he wanted to brush my tear away, but he drops it like it burns.

The smoke is getting thicker, and although this quick exchange barely happened in the space of seconds, it felt like the pain of a lifetime.

He almost looks sorry, but I can't believe he is.

"Just don't die, okay?" I choke out. "I could never… live with that."

"I'll try," he says.

Ron comes towards me now, oblivious of our intimate conversation that was just shared and broken into a thousand pieces – my heart, my heart, my heart. Suddenly, it starts to hurt, so damn much.

I almost start to curse him – because I want to yell and scream and make him hurt just as much as I do, but Ron starts to kick the broom upwards.

"Have a nice life," he coughs.

I give him a curt nod as we fly into the thick smoke, and I silently pray that he makes it out of there. Even though he broke my heart, I could never wish death on him. I saw a side of him that no one else has ever seen, and I'll forever treasure that in my memories.

He meant it.

I shed another tear, for the things we would never be. Married, parents, grandparents. He was the only person I could ever imagine to take the place. I take a deep breath and the pain in my throbs slowly.

I clutch Ron tightly and pretend – for one second – that he is Draco, and everything is alright. That we are safe, in love and he would never give me up.

Then I open my eyes and we're in the middle of the final battle. As we dash away, I can't bear to give him a second glance.

But I do. Because I always gave him a second chance, not matter how much it hurt.

And trust me, it hurt too much this time.

Anyone like? Review please!

Go on, flame me.
I dare you.

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