after you | dramione

2. thinking of you.

During their years at Hogwarts, even before they had started dating, (more like secretly started seeing each other) Hermione had known Draco Malfoy as a big bully who fed on others' fears and insecurities to boost his already huge ego, one of the very victims had been her own self. She did, however, notice how he'd always have an ideal judgement of his surroundings; he'd always know who was watching him and who was thinking what, it had been a Malfoy instinct, Hermione had concluded in the later years when she had asked Draco herself. She had asked him how he could be so stoic after knowing what everyone was thinking and plotting against him. He had laughed at her words until his eye crinkled at the corners and his stomach hurt.

Then, ever so gently, he had stroked her cheek with his slender index finger, saying the words she remembered till this date.

“It is both a blessing and a curse to feel everything so deeply.”

Hermione opened her bedside drawer, removing several books to reach a secret compartment under the debris. With a tear-stricken face, she looked at the object before her with great intent and contemplation. Almost instantly, her breathing became laboured, making her close her eyes the overcome the sudden pang of pain in her heart.

There lied her wand.

The same thing that had helped her obliviate her lover all those years back, ever since that incident, she had tucked away the god-forsaken item in the sanctuary of her secret drawer, vowing to never use it again; she refused to use the thing that had made her life so miserable, tore her off all her happiness and given her nothing but grief and sadness.

But now, things were different.

She had seen Draco in the streets of Muggle London, he was engaged, he didn't know about his own daughter, about her and—

It was too much to bear.

Tears pricked her eyes as she grasped the wooden article in her trembling hands, feeling her skin prick already.

She had given up magic long ago but now, now it was an excuse, an excuse to shut out everything she had endured today.

“Muffliato.” she muttered.

And then, she screamed, she screamed until her lungs gave out, until her vanity mirror had been smashed to tiny pieces, a visual representation of her heart at that moment, until her vocals chords gave up on her.

Until she drowned the memory of Draco Malfoy, only to realise that she couldn't.

She couldn't.

Because the ones we loved, stayed with us forever.

~~~~~

“Astoria, are you absolutely sure we've not seen that woman anywhere before?” Draco Malfoy, on the other side of Muggle London, growled at his fiancé who only kept her eyes on the excessive amounts of bags she bought from today's shopping spree.

The dark haired woman rolled her eyes, she clapped her hands together joyously for some bizzare reason, still refusing to answer the blond. In the snap of an eyes, a tiny house elf appeared before her.

“You're so useless,” she rolled her eyes, “Take these bags to my room and ugh, do something about that awful stench in the kitchen, what did you burn now?” before anyone could comprehend what was happening, Astoria had already pushed the tiny house elf with her right foot, waving a dismissive hand vaguely as if she had more important things to care about.

"You know that's very rude, Astoria. Even for the likes of you." Draco commented softly, he didn't want to say anything that would rile up the woman and start another pointless argument with her. Lord new how difficult it was to talk to her and make her understand something.

Astoria's cold eyes snapped at him, "They're filth, Draco that's precisely why we must treat them that way." Draco urged to smack some sense into her, as odd as that seemed. "And you're saying it like you treated them any better in the past."

That made him purse his lips in a thin line.

His gray eyes watched Astoria stroll outside the room they shared until she waw out of sight.

The past.

It had always seemed like a dark place to the lad.

It had been a difficult topic to breach for him, a very difficult and painful one.

It was painful because he couldn't remember almost ten years of his life, but it was worse, he thought that he remembered those ten years just some specific, very specific details and events had been completely erased from his mind. Sometimes, it seemed absurd to even ponder upon such an unrealistic idea but something, just something made him want to dig back into his brain and extract the remnants of his memories so he could know; what had happened to him.

But it was too torturous, digging into a grave of forgotten promises and memories made his head spin, a thriving headache would form in his head, almost immediately pulling him back to the present reality; because of this one factor, he had been unable to do something about this. The pain was unbearable of he tried to trigger his memory, but then again it could be something stupid because he didn't know for absolute sure that something had happened to him in the past. He remembered all his fellow class mates from his time in Hogwarts, but somehow, he failed to realise how did this all make sense?

How did he not take part in the great battle of Hogwarts and was pardoned without joining either sides? What explained that he had felt like a fish out of water during the battle, like he didn't belong here, like he had no clue how did he end up here? How was he the only one who managed to escape while everyone else, including his parents, died?

These were the questions that haunted him.

Yet, after giving up trying to trigger his memory for something, anything, he had felt the familiar pain sear through his nervous system today, today, when he caught that little girl in his arms and saved her from falling, it was only minute but it was there, he knew it. It wasn't until his eyes landed on that beautiful woman who had been her mother, that he felt his insides churn; the pain had skyrocketed and he felt dizzy, numb almost.

That had to be something, right? He wondered to himself, running a hand through his platinum blond locks, as he sat himself in a large armchair, his fingers massaging his aching temples at the mere thought of the two girls he had encountered today.

After I had tried to give up triggering anything, why did I feel the sensation again when my eyes opened to a stranger woman and her stranger child?

Question and more questions, yet, he had no answers.

But surely, he had a lead, didn't he?

A/N : hellllooooo guys! What's up? How's everyone? Did you all enjoy this one? I put my heart and soul into this one, so pelase leave a vote if you liked it and leave a review regardless. Love you all. xx