Draconian

Verus Amor Mortem

A/N:  This is a relatively short chapter, but it was fun to write.  It has a huge twist since I'm planning on making this story pretty long (over 100 pages).  I think I made Ami and Draco fall in love a little too quickly, so I'm making them enemies/not exactly enemies again.  

This chapter was really fun to write as well.  I'm not sure how well I executed the last conversation, but hopefully it turned out okay.  

I'm not going to update until Dec. 22 when my Christmas break starts!  Expect a lot of chapters then!  I'm going to try and finish up everything I've planned out for Ami and Draco's 5th year!  

Comment if you want to!  I'd appreciate feedback!

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Letting my body slide down the cold cobbled stone wall, I found myself in a fetal position.  More than anything, I hated being weak, and I despised crying.  Yet I had been doing a lot of mourning in the past couple of weeks.  Facing an epiphany, I realized that I didn't need to depend on anyone to make myself feel stronger.  All my memories served as a constant reminder of the strength I'd need to carry on.  Relying on Hermione, Ron, Harry, or even Draco would only weaken me even more. 

Love - the very emotion that fortifies bonds also damages them.  Love would serve as the fatal mistake, and Voldemort  would attempt to use all my weaknesses against me.  Love would only cause me to suffer on the brink of tearing myself apart.  Love would not be the glue; love would be the scissors. 

Draco's passionate words reverberated in my head, and after a few minutes, I had deciphered their meaning. 

Think about it, and then tell me your theory. 

Although I had known for some time, I hadn't brought myself to admit that I had been the one who Draco had been talking about in front of the Mirror of Erised.  The truth was, amidst our faults and differences, Draco and I symbolized the same person.  We'd both been hurt in more ways than one, and we'd somehow always take the role as the pariahs - the ones who no one else would quite understand.  Sure, we'd belong to a social group, but in the end, we would always deviate from the rules and regulations. 

Draco comprehended that he had found meaning and requited understanding in me.  Although our personalities clashed at times, they were compatible.  Even though Draco had initially scoffed at the idea of falling in love with me, he subconsciously had.   For him, love served as his ultimate fear, but by trying to understand me, he had somehow vanquished his fear and allowed it to become part of his emotions.   Along the way, I had become the outward trophy of his conquest, and he had become mine.

Or so he  thought.  Draco hadn't helped me supplant my fear; in fact, now he existed as my greatest fear.  He believed we could continue living as though we were sharing the most complex secret love affair the world has ever known.  But had had miscalculated one thing, and one thing only - my feelings.  Draco assumed that I would feel the same way. 

But I didn't.  Yes, I had fallen in love with him - in fact, I had loved him more than I could ever love Harry.  This in itself was a terrible transgression; I had fallen in love with the enemy who would never help me achieve my vengeance.  Draco would only get in the way, and by doing so, he'd get himself killed by his father's lord.  All because of me.  All because of my undying love.   And in the end, I'd only feel more hollow. 

True love served as a twisted, warped, intricate evil little emotion - the incarnate of the devil himself. 

And suddenly, standing up on my two resolute feet,  I knew what I'd have to do.