My Savior

My Savior

He saved me.

I would be dead now if it were not for him. He risked it all for plain, simple me.

I can still remember, perfectly clear, the last moments of his life. He laid in the dark alley, blood in puddles around him and a muggle dagger through his heart. He tried so hard to muster the strength just to say something, but fate stopped him. He had spoken half my name when he died in front of my eyes.

Then I remember Ministry wizards, apparting around us, and my husband running towards me, screaming my name. He hugged me tightly in his arms. My hands and clothes were drenched with blood, his blood.

"Are you okay?" he had asked me. I didn't reply.

I don't remember what happened next. I just remember the next morning, waking up in my bed.

Then I remember the funeral. I had showed up, though I was not invited.

His mother and father didn't seem sad. There were no tears around his grave. His father spoke dryly about him, just saying very little.

Once everyone left, I stood alone, still staring at the grave.

"God," I had muttered to no one in particular. "I can't believe you did that. I never got to thank you. Thank you so much, you have no idea how much it means to everyone. My husband, my kids, my mother, my father, and me."

I laid some flowers, roses, down on his grave and left. Not to return until now.

Now, as I stand over his grave with flowers in my hand, tears come to my eyes. I bend down to remove the old, dried flowers that I had replaced a year ago at his funeral and replaced them with the new ones I had.

I miss him even though he had never really been part of my life. I don't know why I never visited before. I still have not told anyone, not my husband, my daughter, mom, anyone, that he saved me. I have tried, but I end up telling them about something else. They just think that I had found him, dying, and went to his aid.

I must say, at first my husband seemed to act oddly around me.

"Why did you save him? He deserved to die and suffer. He has killed others, and he deserved to die," my husband had said.

"Maybe he changed. You don't know that he killed people, you simply are holding a school boy grudge," I had replied, and then he went on about how that was ridiculous.

But my husband never knew that we had been in love.

In our school days, we were inseperable. Our relationship was a secret, due to our families, but it ended. I told myself we weren't really in love, but I still never forgot him. I later went on to marry my husband, but he never married.

"I never forgot about you. I still think of you every night in my dreams. I...I miss you."

My hand brushed over the top of the plague in the ground, removing the dust that had collected on his name

Draco C. Malfoy

We miss him dearly.

They lied. They did not miss him at all. They never came to visit him. I was the only one who ever came here, to place flowers on his grave. I was the only one who had paid my respects.

They didn't know that he died a hero. I suppose they would cringe at the thought that he could have saved me, an enemy to their family.

But he did. No one can deny it. The only reason I am here right now is because of him. And for that I am grateful.

I know he changed. He is now in heaven now, and I hope I can repay him there when I join him.

Oh come oh ye faithful,

Joyful and triumphant.

Oh come ye, oh come ye,

To Bethlehem.

Come and behold him!

Born the king of angels!

Oh come let us adore him.

Oh come let us adore him.

Oh come let us adore him!

Christ the Lord.

~End~