red, you look in the pink (shecrows) wrote in telepathic_oreo,
red, you look in the pink

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I am crying over here, Moony. Why? Because of THIS:

Draco stood up, putting the Pensieve down on the bed. "You want help with that?"

"Oh. If you don't mind." She hesitated for a moment, then reached around and put the necklace into his hand. He looped the slender chain, bowing under the weight of the smoky topaz charm, around her throat, and paused, his hands just brushing the curve where her neck met her shoulder. She felt the tiny hairs all up and down the sides of her arms prickle as he looked at her, his eyes gone dark and serious, and suddenly she saw herself as he saw her -- the smooth curves of pale-peach skin rising from the bodice of cinnamon silk, the very dark curls of hair, so carefully arranged, looping like hyacinth tendrils around her face, her wide dark eyes, her full lower lip, trembling now with nervousness. The feel of his hands on her skin was familiar and not familiar -- he was so much a part of Harry, although he looked so different. If she closed her eyes, she had to remind herself whose hands were on her. Silver hair not black, gray eyes not green. She spun around in the circle of his arms and heard the snap as he closed the clasp of the necklace, and stepped back and away from her.

He was breathing quickly. "Done," he said lightly.

"Draco --"

"Don't," he said, and then, "You look beautiful."

And she knew she did, maybe more beautiful than she would ever look again. She spoke then without thinking. "Is there something between you and Ginny?" she heard herself ask.

The words hung there between them, and for a moment she saw him look suddenly vulnerable -- he had gained back some of the weight he'd lost during the past months, but his shoulders still seemed narrow under the thin cloth of his shirt, the planes of his face very sharp. He said, weighting his words carefully, "For there to be something between me and Ginny, there would have to be something of myself I could give her. And I don't think there's much of me left to give anyone right now."

"Draco. You're the wholest person I know."

"More so than Harry?"

"You're the same."

He shook his head. "I have to wait."

She bit her lip. "Don't wait to be happy," she said, her voice tight.

"Is that what you want for me?" he said, and there was a little edge in his voice, the bright cutting side of a razor. "To be happy?"

"More than anything," she said, and there was truth in that, and a little bit of a lie.

He stood there for a moment, very still. Then he turned and lifted the finished Pensieve off the bed. "Thanks for this," he said. "I couldn't have - not without you."

"Draco --" she burst out, without really knowing what she was saying, "if things were different -"

"Stop," he said, and she did. He looked at her for a long time, standing so still that every previous stillness of his seemed an incomplete copy of this one. Finally, he spoke, and she closed her eyes as he spoke, hearing only the cadences of his soft voice, and the words it shaped. "For a long time," he said, "I waited to hear you say that if there was no Harry in your life, then you would be with me. I waited, but you never said it, and finally I realized that you never would. Not because you don´t want me. Just because it doesn´t matter. Because you would never imagine a life for yourself without Harry in it."

She looked at him, profoundly shaken. Her voice, when she spoke, was just above a whisper, "You can love more than one person at once, you know."

"Oh, yes," he said. "I know."

"But you have to make choices," she said.

He looked away from her. The torchlight painted his pale hair with gold. "We are only given one life," he said. "I remember."

Her heart contracted. "Draco--"

"I´ll see you at the party," he said, and backed towards the door. She stared at him as he went out, letting the door slam shut behind him. Then Hermione stood and looked after him for a long time.


Draco and Hermione need to be together. Seriously. I mean, Harry and Hermione are cute, and I'd feel horrible for Harry if Hermione left him, BUT I DON'T CARE. I REALLY DON'T. Because my heart is aching and I am crying over here. GOD. T_____T

Dare I say it again? THREESOME. FUCK, MAN. *fumes* *sobs*

ETA: You totally pretty-fied the journal! Yei!

*goes back to sobbing*
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