“The present is the ever moving shadow that divides yesterday from tomorrow. In that lies hope.”

~Frank Lloyd Wright


Draco fell to the icy floor in excruciating pain. He had reached the climax of the transformation, whether he wanted it or not; he could no longer avoid it. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead and one by one descended down his brow and over his cheeks. He closed his eyes and tried to picture her face. The pain would not ease but just the glimpse of her eyes could lessen the ripping at his soul. He could not believe this was happening to him, all his life he could never have imagined it. What would he become in the end? Who would he be? Would he remember any of their faces? Fear lashed at his heart and attacked his mind. He could feel his old self dying and this new evil being reborn within him. The pain was so immense he screamed out loud, his body shivering he grasped at the frigid stone of his basement. He was starting to think he would not survive this unwelcome transformation. Blood had started to seep from his eyes and his nose; he could taste it coming up his throat. The coppery thick substance of crimson liquid made him start to choke. He felt now this had to be the end. And as fast as the transformation had started to take place, it ended. Everything for Draco Malfoy suddenly went black.




Hermione was banned from the funeral; she had already figured this much. But she did wait outside the graveyard for the mourners to leave. She may not have been welcomed to celebrate the life and death of Ginny, but that could not stop her from saying her goodbyes. She watched everyone’s faces as they solemnly left the gravesite. Harry she could tell had tried to linger, but Ron had managed to forcibly get his feet to move. As they past her Ron continued to look at the ground, but it was Harry’s face that brought the tears to her eyes. He looked at her with remorse and hatred at the same time. Hermione didn’t look away from his teary stare, and she bid her eyes to message “I’m sorry” to his. She waited for them to pass her before she stepped over the threshold of the massive iron gate that bid entry into the place of resting souls. It was then Harry had grabbed her arm, she spun around in shock. There were no words exchanged between them, but Hermione could tell by his eyes that he didn’t hate her. It may take him awhile to understand her reasoning of Draco over Ron, but he still loved her; she felt that from his look. She cupped his hand in hers pulled it to her lips and kissed it gently. He pulled it away from her and turned back around to rejoin Ron. Hermione was left standing alone, and for the first time in a very long time she actually felt utterly isolated.


Draco had no choice but to abandon her, Ron hated her, Harry needed time and Ginny was gone forever. There was no one left for her. She turned back around and approached the gravesite of her friend slowly. There were so many wreaths of flowers; it was beautiful; just as her friend had been. There was no grave stone yet, it was too soon, but there was a large white angel instead. She knew Harry must have picked it out because he had always called Ginny his angel. She knelt down and gently ran her fingers across the freshly laid earth on top of her friend. It still didn’t seem real. She expected to her Ginny running up behind her and yelling just kidding from out of no where. Only she knew that was a cruel joke Ginny would never have played. They had all been affected by death growing up with the first war. And now Hermione feared there would be another, she feared what would happen to Draco more then anything. She could sense the times were changing and she yearned for the more innocent years. Back when everyone was still alive, when death was the farthest consequence from any of their minds. At some point tears had started to fall and she had not even noticed. She sat down, tucked her knees into her chest put her head on her arms and hid her tears from the world; even if there was no one there to see them.




The door to the Malfoy manor’s basement blasted open. Draco emerged and as he soon as the death eaters that had guarded the door laid eyes on him they all dropped to their knees to bow, he was their new ruler he was their new Lord of Darkness. Draco paid them no mind; he was looking for one person, the one person who would know where she was. He found Narcissa in the library with several other death eaters. Upon his entry into the vast room the death eaters all bowed but Narcissa did not. This angered him.


“You do not bow when you see me?” he asked with a cool tone to his voice, though it seeped wickedness.


“I am the mother of the Dark Lord, should I have to bow?” she asked with a powerful tone.


Before Narcissa realized it he had appeared even closer in front of her. She had not seen him move, yet there he was; his cool breath in her face.


“I do not care to whom you gave birth, bow before me until I demand otherwise,” he hissed.


Narcissa had never in her life ever feared her son, but she was soon to realize the real Draco was lost inside this other person. This man that stood before her was no longer her son, and her eyes quickly looked to the floor as she bowed in respect.


“Stand,” he ordered. She did as she was told.


“Where can I find her?” he asked, his voice was wickedly calm again.


“Who?” Narcissa asked trying to pretend she didn’t know who he was inquiring about.


In a flash movement Draco grabbed her by the neck and shoved her against the wall. His grip was so tight she could hardly breathe much less speak. He leaned in closer to her ear and whispered, “Do not play with me old woman.” Narcissa was hurt by his words because the fact he had just referenced her as an old woman stung. She had always been so vain with her beauty.


“I would expect she would have attended the funeral of the Weasly girl,” She choked out her answer. He released her neck from his grip and smiled as she fell to the floor. She bowed her head in respect and with a CRACK he was gone.


Hermione was so lost in grief and thought that she did not hear Draco walk up behind her. It wasn’t until he was towering over her that she felt his presence. He held his silence until she looked up at him and when she did she let out a gasp. He was still the beautiful man she had seen two nights ago, but there was something more sinister about him. He seemed paler, darker circles had settled deep under his gray eyes and his face had bits of blood stains on it. He was dressed in all black and wore a long black overcoat that whipped about him fiercely each time the wind picked up. She knew then it had happened and she wondered if he had come to kill her or to love her. He held out an insipid hand to help her to her feet. She took it and his skin was as glacial as death. What had he become?


Without speaking he gently pulled her into his chest into a loving embrace. He ran his fingers through her hair and kissed her head. She breathed in his smell, it had not changed. They stood like that in the graveyard as the sun kissed day turned into the empty gray of dusk. Light and dark embraced as one.


“Is it done then?” she asked barely above a whisper. He pulled away from her slightly just enough to look her in the eyes and nodded.


“And do you still want to kill me?” she asked but not with an ounce of fear in her voice.


“It is a battle that rages against my soul, yes.” He answered. She sighed and looked away but he pulled her face back to look at him.


“I hate you, but I love you more,” he said. She thought for an instant that she seen a glimmer of warmth behind his vacant cold eyes when he spoke the words to her.


“I don’t care,” she said with a shaky voice, “I don’t care if you kill me tomorrow as long as I can love you right now, then my life was worth living.”


“Do you mean that?” he asked calmly.


“Do you still honestly love me?” she asked, “No matter what you have become?”


“Yes,” he did not hesitate to answer.


“Then I mean it,” she said.


“Then you are mine Hermione Granger, you belong to no one else.” He said.


“I have never belonged to anyone but you my love,” she said with a smile.


“And it will remain that way,” he hissed and pulled her into a violent kiss.


His mood had changed so suddenly that it threw her off guard. He had gone from charming to extremely frightening in the split of a second. She pulled away from him and stumbled backwards, her lip bleeding from the hard kiss. She wiped the blood from her mouth and stared at him with uncertainty.


“Remember, you belong to me” he said with a sinister smile and then disapparated

A/N: Hope you like it!!

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