Chapter 1

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Author's note: The Burrow burned only in the Harry Potter movies, not in the books. In this case I decided to follow the books, so the Burrow still exists.


Hermione's POV

Ron was standing in front of me, in a room at the Burrow, his eyes wide. The clock seemed to tick deafeningly loud. He stared at me for a while after my announcement, his expression blank and empty. 

I didn't regret it; a breakup with Ron was probably the best idea. We weren't meant to be a couple. We wear meant to be friends, and this is something I was sure of. We didn't even look like a couple. He spent his time playing quidditch and when he was with me, we talked as usual, as if nothing changed in our relationship, as if we were just friends. Why would we need to be a couple then? There maybe was some love in the beginning, but it seems like it faded on both sides. 

After staring at me for several additional seconds with empty eyes, he finally said something.

«Yeah, you're right», he said.

«What?» I asked, surprised by such a short and simple answer.

«You're right. We should break up. We weren't meant to be together», he said calmly.

It was my turn to stare. I expected the break up to be way worse than this. Maybe yelling or something... Though our life as a couple was obviously not serious enough for us to have a hard break up. He started walking, heading towards the door behind me.

«Let's have breakfast», he said, patting my shoulder and giving me a small smile. «Oh, and get ready for Diagon Alley», he added, reminding me that we have to buy our books for our 8th year at Hogwarts, which was an additional year to compensate the 7th year, when no one even learned anything, and Umbridge's pitiful courses that she dared calling Defense Against the Dark Arts courses.

I was even more shook. That's all? Really? It felt as if nothing had happened. As if our first kiss or any of our very rare kisses, that we can count on the fingers of one hand, never happened. As if the battle never happened. As if the entire year that we spent fighting Voldemort never happened. All he said was about breakfast and buying our stuff for school. I followed him, getting past the door, feeling empty inside.

...

Draco's POV

Malfoy manor felt even worse than before in some way, even after Father has been arrested. It was luxurious. Big. Expensive. 

I didn't deserve to sit in such a place. Not after all I had done. At least, I killed no one. Very fortunately, I didn't have time to come that far. But still, I hurt way too many people. I didn't have an excuse. Father forced me to become such a person, brainwashing me with pureblood stuff that I was dumb enough to believe in. I. Was. A. Jerk. 

When I realised my mistake, I didn't do much to change things. Even though I didn't want to do the bad things Father wanted me to do, I didn't protest and made people suffer. I worked for the Dark Lord himself. I could have protested. I could have done something. But I didn't. I will never forgive myself. 

Sitting on my bed, I buried my head in my hands and tried to forget this room I was sitting in. Tried to forget these expensive clothes I was wearing, thinking about all the people who suffered because of my actions, remembering the scar left from the Dark Mark that was still on my left forearm and will stay there for the rest of my life, bringing all the negative consequences it could possibly bring. I deserved those consequences and still deserve them.

Suddenly, an idea came to my mind, and I stood up from my bed as quickly as I could before sitting at my desk, taking out parchment, a quill and ink. Writing frantically, I called for a house elf; three seconds later, I heard a small popping sound behind me. «Ask my mom to come up here», I asked, keeping my eyes on the parchment in front of me, continuing to write. Another popping sound resonated, and after a short while, Narcissa Malfoy stood behind me.

«How much property do we have?» I asked my mom without saying anything else or bothering to look at her.

«A lot.» She replied.

«Yeah, I noticed this, but we probably have more than just this manor», I answered with an ironic tone of voice, keeping my eyes on the parchment in front of me, thinking of the words I should write next.

«We have a few islands», she said casually, a pinch of impatience in her voice.

«Good. Can I sell them?» I asked, using the same casual tone she used, turning around on my chair to see her reaction. Her eyes widened.

«All of them?»

«Yes», I said, perfectly confident.

«What for?»

I handed her the two letters I just wrote. She read them, looking confused at first, before a small smile slowly started spreading on her face.

...

Second note (sorry for that): This chapter is pretty short, but don't worry. The next chapters will be longer.

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