You Were Mine

You Were Mine

Sometimes I wake up crying at night,

And sometimes I scream out your name.

As she slept, the memories played through her mind relentlessly. Freezing her heart, stinging her eyes once again. He'd infected every portion of her life. When she drifted off to sleep, he was there, very much alive, and once again hers. She could see his silvery hair, blowing softly in the wind. She shuddered as she recalled how cold his ice-blue eyes could be. The strong arms that wrapped around her... his warm lips pressed to hers...

She woke up feverish, calling out his name. But as she opened her eyes, she saw she was still alone. And the absence of him brought her to tears.

I can find a reason to hang on,
What went wrong can be forgiven,
Without you, it ain't worth living alone.

She couldn't find a reason to let go. Not after all she'd given, just to love him. Not after the ways she'd changed, the ways she'd thought he had changed. The love she had felt for him from the moment they first kissed still lived inside of her. She couldn't give it up. She'd risked so much, and now he'd left, as if it had all been for nothing. She couldn't imagine that the five years she had loved him were nothing. Now that chapter was ending, and she had nothing left, nothing to show for her pain. She couldn't see herself without him. The man who was once her enemy.

Even though those pictures have begun to fade,
Please tell me... that you're really coming home to stay.

He'd been gone so long, it seemed, though she knew she could probably count her days without him on her fingers. But nothing mattered, only that she needed him, and she wanted him back.

She couldn't make herself see that he wouldn't be coming back. He was gone from her, forever.

She remembered the day he left vividly. The war had ended, Voldemort was gone. She'd imagined the end would mean they were free, they wouldn't be forced to hide their love. But, as Draco had explained, it didn't.

The Death Eaters were still alive, repairing their ranks. People were preoccupied during the war, they were able to hide, keep their relationship secret. Now that it was over, they couldn't continue as they had been doing. They would be found, their love would never be allowed, whether Voldemort was alive or dead.

"No," she had whispered, clinging to him. "We'll find a way. We always have. We can run... anything. Please... just, just don't go."

But he had know what had to be done. It had to end. There was nothing for them anymore, at least nothing he could see.

She remembered the cold, painful blankness of his eyes.

"We can't," he had said. "Hermione, I love you, but I can't."

What right does she have to take you away,

When for so long, you were mine.

And now he was marrying that pug-face whore. Draco didn't love Pansy - she knew it. He was pleasing his father, just as he always had. He was keeping up his damned reputation, and his damn pride. His pride was what kept him from her.

What right did he have to leave? He was hers. He had told her so.

"Mine," he had whispered. They had been sitting in the library at Hogwarts. She was finishing her homework, as usual. He was watching her.

"What's yours?" she had asked, not looking up from her parchment.

"You are. And I'm yours. It's always been that way. It always will."

"Don't be silly, Draco. People don't belong to each other," she had told him, smiling.

But people did belong to one another. She knew that now. And he belonged to her.

But as he left, she could see the difference between them. She was the brave Gryffindor; he was the cowardly Slytherin. He wasn't strong enough to stay with her. He wouldn't fight his pride, his family, his past, to keep her.

Now, she wasn't sure if she was brave enough to carry on without him.

But she knew one thing was true.

Pansy might marry him, and maybe Draco would grow to love her. But no matter what, he would be Hermione's. Always.

I remember when you were mine.