Shell of Darkness Broken

We were not allowed to feel anything but indifference. We were taught to be cold to the world. But after I left her, I realized the ice in my heart was merely a shell carefully guarding fiery emotions.

Every time I sat to relieve past years, waves of anger coursed through me, chiding me for my foolishness. As of now, it had been four years since I had taken second-in-command among Lord Voldemort's supporters- the Death Eaters. It had been four years since I started killing Muggleborns and their families. I remembered so vividly the looks on their faces as they recognized me, the infamous Draco Malfoy, before they crumpled to the floor in a heap. I remembered every single face: Seamus Finnigan, Justin Finch-Fletchley, the Patil twins, Dean Thomas...my list had grown chillingly long since then.

And at the very end, I always remembered her. Her frozen, smiling face in the Muggle photograph. A photograph on her parents' night table...

~Four years before~

I stealthily entered their yard, my black cloak pulled over me, the hood hiding my face. The full moon loomed overhead, following my every move intently. I scowled, then silently I unlocked the door and slipped inside.

Lucius had told me to finish the night's last job; he didn't give any name, just this location with strict instructions to kill everyone in the house. I had accepted the task, not wanting to start an argument that undoubtedly I would lose. So here I was, climbing the stairs to where they slept.

The bedroom door was ajar, and both were sleeping peacefully, a mid-forties couple, who looked familiar, but I didn't give it a second thought as I finished them off with 'Avada Kedavra.' I was preparing to Disapparate when I saw her face, smiling at me from the dead couple's night table.

Her parents, I thought dizzily. I killed her parents.

On an impulse, I broke the frame and snatched the picture, then Disapparated from the house forever...

That photograph, her face, kept haunting me on the nights when I dared to stray my eyes onto it. When I dared to remember the girl who had been my life. As I sit here, Hermione's words yet again run through my head, cutting my soul.

"I love you, Draco."

My betrayal to her haunted me. Her laugh, her smile, her beautiful eyes were all lost to me, and in their place I would see her alone, crying bitterly. I tried so hard to remember the way she smelt, the way she felt, the way she tasted. I remember nothing. It is all lost to me...except...

...when she sleeps. For when she sleeps, she knows not who is watching her, waiting for the time when she will forgive him, and take him into her arms. This is my hunger, my longing for the woman whom I could easily take but wish to coax, instead. This is the way in which I demonstrate my longing for Hermione Granger.