All I Ask Of You (Sequel to "The Point Of No Return (Draco Malfoy)"

Chapter One

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Draco

                I hate the summer. It reminds me of her. Everything I do, everywhere I go reminds me of her. It’s like I’m stuck in one spot for the rest of my life. I see her when I walk into a room. I hear her voice when things are going bad. I feel her skin on mine. I feel her pulse. I feel her eyes on me.

            No matter how far I run, she’s always there. I want it to stop. I need it to stop. I hate seeing my mother. I avoid her. Seeing her is like seeing Natalie. They’re sweet when they want to be, but they’re confident and passionate other times. The only difference is that I need Natalie in a way that I don’t need my mother. I need Natalie as my friend and more. I don’t want to need her, and yet I still do.

            I hate hurting her. I hate myself for hurting her. I knew what I was getting into and I still didn’t stop. I could have stopped that train in the beginning, but then we got detention. I would blame her but that would be arrogant. I have to take responsibility. I knew I couldn’t do that. I knew I couldn’t be close to her.

            Father told me from the beginning. He told me what I would have to do and that it would be the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my entire life. He told me that I would have to sacrifice anything that did not already belong in our world. If the people I associate with aren’t on the same side, I have to give them up. I always have to give everything up.

            He told me after Christmas supper. He reminded me that I cannot get involved with anyone. He reminded me of what I have to do someday and that the day is coming rather quickly. He reminded me that things would change and people would be hurt, but that it was what needed to happen.

            I haven’t seen my father this summer. He’s been “away” on “business”. That’s what he always says when he’s preparing things for the Dark Lord. It’s better that he’s not here to see me like this. I can only imagine what he’d say if he saw me. He’d tell me to be a man, that’s what he’d say. He’d tell me to suck it up and get over her. He’d say she’s a waste of time. He’d say she’s a filthy mudblood who doesn’t deserve a moment of my time.

            I’ve spent most of the summer looking out the window in my bedroom. I stare out that window all day and watch her walk around the garden with flowers in her hands. She’s so happy when I see her. She wears a light blue dress with cherries on it and the wind plays with her hair. Her skin is flawless and has a slight glow to it. When the sun goes down she pulls on the gray hoodie I’ve had for a couple of years now. She never wears shoes. She sits on the bench with a cup of tea, in her bare feet. When the moon begins to show, she lies in the grass and watches the stars all night. I’ve never seen a night that she’s fallen asleep. She’s always awake when I am. She’s there when I wake up in the morning, tugging at the weeds, and she’s gazing at the heavens when I fall asleep.

            I swear I’m going crazy. It would be foolish of me to think that she’s actually there, but it’s so real. I’ve gone out there before. I’ve searched for hours. I searched all day one time at the end of June. I looked everywhere she’d been. She was never there, but when I’m at my window, she’s always there.

            I’ve accepted that she’ll be there and for awhile I began to look forward to seeing her. Then I realized that I’m torturing myself. Seeing her doesn’t take away the pain. It doesn’t satisfy the need to feel her next to me. It doesn’t make the burning in my hands go away. It doesn’t take away the yearning for her hand in mine.

            I hate the summer. It is her. She is summer. She is here and I am here but in a whole other sense, she’s never going to be here. I want to die. I would rather be dead than have to live with this guilt. I would give anything to have one more chance.