I Remember...Part Two.

I knew he was coming towards me before I even saw him. I could just...feel it. Like I could feel he was angry, and unhappy, and regretful. All at the same time. I didn't think that a mark on my forehead, and the name that I bear could force me in to a future I had never wanted. But it did.

I told him about it a few weeks before it would happen. Things weren't the same after that. We didn't laugh like we used to. Everything became so...awkward.

I didn't want to leave him I would have taken the sun from the sky if it meant I could stay. But despite my efforts, there was nothing I could do- I had to leave him.

My last night, I really wanted to be alone, well, either with him, or alone.

I remember it, the feeling, so clearly. In a way I wish I couldn't remember it, that way it would be a lot less painful.

Without looking I knew when he was close to me, it wasn't even instinct, it was more a sense of...knowing.

He didn't say much when he reached me, just stood by me in silence and waited. I knew he wanted me to say something, but what was there to say?

His hand brushed my cheek, and I took it in my own. Gently pulling him forward.

He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but I cut him off with a kiss.

We hadn't touched like this since the night I told him I was going. It was sad. I could say heart wrenching, I could say painful, I could say that because of it I wouldn't walk another day. But no, it wasn't like that. The only word for it is sad.

He begged me to stay, and it takes a lot o get a 'Malfoy' to beg. I cried when he did, and I'd never done that before, I had always known my parents were dead, bit I never cried about it.

Why is it me that always loose the ones they love most?

'Malfoy'... haven't used that expression in a while.

It wasn't until that night, the night that I would be leaving him that I realised he loved me. I knew he liked me, and I knew he liked me a lot. But love? That wasn't even mentioned, it was avoided at all costs. And yet now, without even having to tell me, I knew that he was in love with me.

Damn the Ministry. I don't want to work for them.

He was in love with me.

He was in love with me.

He was in love with me!

Damn the ministry.

He returned that kiss with an energy, a need almost, that you only ever hear about, the ones that you never dare to imagine you will experience. I knew why, he didn't want me to go either.

Well of course he didn't want me to go. He was in...he was.

It was cold that night. I would have been reluctant to let him take my clothes off, had it not been for the fact that I wanted him to.

Everything about him was perfect, his skin, his lips, his eyes...why did this have to end?

There was something playing on his mind, I could feel it. Something was bothering him, I could still feel it as we melted to the floor, still clutching him to me.

I could feel it all night, all, night, long. All night as we made love, all night as we said goodbye. All night there was something bothering him, And I still don't know what.

When morning came, I found it almost impossible to leave him. He was there, I was lying in his arms, and in a few minutes I would be on my way, never to see him like that again. Ever.

What was it that was bothering him? What was it?

Reluctantly I left him, dressed, and walked away. Walked away from him, walked away from us.

All the same, I knew one thing.

He loved me.

He loved me.

He loved me.

Damn the Ministry.