Memoirs of a Dragon Lover

Memoirs of a Dragon Lover

Chapter 4 - Venus

'I'm watching from the wall,

As in the streets we fight.

This world all gone to war,

All I need is you tonight.' - P.J Harvey, One Line

The two years in the interval of our story, I will not easily forget. On the night Draco was called, Voldemort put into action the plan that he had had 17 years to formulate, and he did so with a vengeance.

Finally we had to stop hiding behind our affinity for good. We had to gather our strengths. Hide our weaknesses. Call upon our courage. But most of all, we had to hope that all of the stories we had heard of good overcoming evil were true. And that the same rules applied this time.

We were unprepared. Amongst veterans, there were people like me. Fresh out of Hogwarts, green, scared, too attached to the theory of life. We were thrown into battles, we became foot soldiers, guerrillas, assassins, disillusioned. We fought in a war that was hidden from the rest of the world. A war, that like all others accomplished nothing but death. Our friends fell at our feet. Our mentors fell beside us. Our husbands, wives, children, brothers, sisters, boyfriends, girlfriends ceased to exist. Our hearts fell. Our enthusiasm paled in the wake of so much death. We wished that it were us decaying beneath the earth. Because perhaps there, there would be no pain.

I was an assassin. I was a killer. A murderer - but of course there's no murders in war. Only justified death. My duties took me many places. I was given a name...and was not to report back until that person was dead. I killed so many people. I ache when I think of it now. I never questioned the tasks that I was given. Never did I ask what the 'target' had done. Not until one day, a November day. I remember it so vividly...it was the day my world came crashing down around me. The late Autumn air was crisp, and you could smell the frost in the air. I was due to receive a new target that day. As Harry handed me the case folder I felt an overwhelming sense of horror, and when I opened it I knew why. There, staring up at me from the page was a name. My target. My enemy. My love. My dragon. Draco Malfoy, wanted dead for operations aiding the cause of the Dark Lord Voldemort. I felt bile rise in my throat, and dizziness swept over me. I couldn't do it.

"Hermione, are you alright?"

"Yes. Yes Harry, I'm fine."

"Well. Good luck."

"Yes. Yes, thankyou."

I left. Walked out into the cold air. Resigned myself to the fact that it had to be done. I had to kill the man I loved. Because I did love him. Still. After two years. He haunted my dreams and I couldn't escape him. How could I? He was a part of me. And soon he would be gone. Forever.

Draco Malfoy, last known location - London, England. I was to find him there. And find him I did, only two days later. I could have killed him then, I could have destroyed him. I didn't. I followed him. I was putting off the inevitable, and I knew it. I reasoned with myself that I was finding a way to do the operation covertly. I knew that I was lying, never before had I had to stalk a target. But then, never before had my target been Draco Malfoy. He was beautiful still. His silver hair hung over his face. He was thinner than he had been, but nothing was more intriguing than the aura of power that hung about him. Enveloped him in with it's very core. He was intoxicating, just as he had been two years previously. Maybe it was nostalgia, maybe it was stupidity, and maybe it was love, I don't know what made me confront him. But I did.

It was in a coffee shop. It was night. I was scared. I walked inside, out of the bitingly cold air. He spoke to me without turning around.

"Hello Hermione."

"Draco. How, um, how did you know I was here?"

"Hermione, really, you've been following me for days. Take a seat will you?"

I sat on the low chair opposite him.

"So tell me Hermione, why exactly have you been following me? I know you have been. Is it just because I'm gorgeous?"

"Well Draco, the truth is. Oh. Don't worry about the truth."

I knew then that I couldn't do it. I couldn't care less about the Ministry and its needs and wants. I'd been doing the Ministry's bidding for the past two years, they could wait for me now. We talked then. Oh, how we talked. It was like no time had passed at all, like the clock had stopped ticking, or had gone into reverse, and we were back at Hogwarts, at the safest place we knew. And we didn't have to kill, or hate, or despise. We just had to be.

It was late when we went home. That sounds beautiful doesn't it? We went home. Just like it had been in my dreams. Of course, it wasn't like that at all. We went back to my home. Which is so different, and much sadder. I guess we made up for the time that we spent apart that night.

It was a clear night, and the stars were out, the opposite of our first night together. It was cold in the house as we made our way up to the bedroom, holding each other's hands, like we never wanted to let go. I didn't want to let him go. The mattress was soft beneath me, and Draco was hard above me, and fire ran through my veins. That dragon fire, that was almost like ice. He was mine that night, and I was his, and it seemed to me that there was nothing I had ever heard that was more beautiful than when he screamed my name to the sky, to the gods. Forever linking us together, even in death. We stood at the window, just as the sun was rising over the mountains to the east. The sky was pink, and Venus glowed still in the morning air. Draco's arms wrapped around my waist felt like heaven.

"I have to go."

"I know Draco."

"I'll never forget tonight. I...Hermione?"

"Mmmm..?"

"See that star?"

"Yes, it's Venus."

"Well, whenever you see that star, wherever you may be, whatever you're doing, promise to think of me?"

"Of course." I kissed him on the jaw.

"I have to go."

"You said that before."

"That doesn't mean it isn't true."

"I know."

"Well, good bye Hermione. We may meet again somewhere."

"I don't think so."

"Yes, well. Goodbye."

I gave him one last kiss, and I could feel my heart breaking again. I slipped a small piece of paper into his hand.

"Read it, after you've left. Goodbye."

He let go of my hands, turned around and walked out of my house, out of my life, out of the world as I knew it. I cried.