Give It Away

Give It Away

"'Cause love isn't love . . . 'til you give it away . . . you gotta give it away . . ."
~Michael W. Smith~

"I'm not going to ask you to choose. I can't ask you," she said in her usual soft, wise tone. "And I'm not going to fight this." He couldn't believe she was saying this. And saying it so calmly at that. Because frankly, if he were in her shoes, he wouldn't be saying it at all. He'd be kicking and screaming, fighting for their love. But that was what made her a better person than him, in his eyes anyway. Her ability to look at every situation in such a logical and unselfish manner. She never cared about her own happiness, as long as those around her were happy. It was just how she was, and he loved her for it. However, right now, it was frustrating.

"I don't understand. Don't you want to be with me?" he asked, confused and angry. He wanted to take her by the shoulders and shake her until she saw sense and fought back. But he didn't do that. He knew it would hurt her, and he could never in a million years do it. She just smiled sweetly at him, tracing his jawline with her fingers.

"I want to be with you more than ever. But it's not my choice to make. It never has been," she responded. "You know how I feel, you've always known. And I know how you feel, even if you can never say it aloud. But that's simply not enough. There are too many things holding you back, binding you to the past and to unnecessary obligations. It doesn't have to be that way, you just choose to let it be, because it's easier. And that's alright. I can live with that." He glared at her, his mouth hanging open. Part of him was furious with her, feeling she should fight a little harder for him, but part of him knew she was right at the same time. He couldn't help thinking, as he watched her, that she was an even stronger person than he'd ever realized. He loved her more than anything in the world, and yet he wasn't prepared to do what she was doing. She was walking away from him, setting him free of any obligations he had to her.

"How can you live with the knowledge of how I feel, how you feel, the memories of all that we've shared, knowing that it didn't have to end, you just allowed it to? How can you live with that kind of regret?" he questioned, running a hand through his blond hair. He sighed in frustration. "Because I can't. I can't live my life without you in it. And . . . dammit . . . I know you can't live yours without me! So why are you doing this? Why are you doing something that you know will haunt both of us for the rest of our lives?"

"Because that's just how love works. I love you so much that I want only for you to be happy, nothing more, nothing less. Whether that be with me or someone else. And while I feel that we are meant to be together, I'm not willing to fight for it. Because it's not my battle," she told him. She clasped his hands in hers and looked pleadingly into his grey eyes with her brown. "If I begged and pleaded for you to choose me, and you did - you still wouldn't be free of the things that hold you back. If I kidnaped you or asked you to run away with me, and you chose to, you would still continue carry around the chains of your obligations with you for the rest of your life. No, Draco . . . the only way you will ever truly be free, truly be happy, is if you make your own choice, free of the opinions of others, follow your own heart, damn everyone else, including your family. You have to do what you want, regardless of anyone else, you have to stand up for it. You have to fight for your happiness, for me, if that's what would make you the happiest. I can't do it for you. But either way - I still have to live my life, with or without you."

"But does that mean you have to be miserable too?" he said desperately, tears filling his eyes. He touched her cheek, her own eyes filling with tears as she closed them against his touch.

"I won't be miserable, whatever happens. As long as you're happy, that's all that matters. It's all that has ever mattered to me. You've blessed my life more than you'll ever know, being with you, even for a brief time, has contented me for a lifetime. But I can't live with you in my life unless I know that you're truly happy, that you're following the path that you're meant to follow. I love you too much to do that. And I refuse to continue carrying on as we have been or run away with you, because it's not going to solve the problem. You'll just keep walking around in those chains that restrict you so much, dragging both of us down. So I must give you up, let you find your own way. I know that may not make any sense to you, but it's just how things are," she explained. She shrugged, her voice still mellow-sounding. "It may sound stupid or cheesy . . . but love isn't love until you give it away. If it's meant to be, it will come back to you someday. I love you, and I honestly trust that you will find your way to me, however long that may take. It's up to you now." Tears were streaming down her cheeks as she leaned forward and kissed him gently one last time. Then she turned and walked out of the room as quickly as she could, leaving him standing there in shock. He sputtered for a few seconds, wanting to stop her, but no sound would come out.

"Wait!" he finally managed to get out, but there was no point in it. She was far gone.

Biting back tears, he turned to the mirror once more and continued to get dressed. He was getting married today. To a girl he didn't love or even know. His parents had picked her out for him. Supposedly she came from a long line of purebloods and was loaded with money, so the match was advantageous in his parents eyes. He couldn't have cared less. He just wanted to get the whole thing over and done with already.

There was a knock at the door, and his father stepped into the room. Lucius Malfoy was getting on in years, and it was starting to show. There were streaks of grey now in his once white blond hair, and his face was wrinkled and tired-looking. He smiled as he saw his son.

"A wonderful day this is, my son. Wouldn't you agree?" he said jovially, an uncharacteristic cheerfulness to his demeanor. Draco rolled his eyes, fumbling with the tie on his suit. He felt like bursting into tears and screaming angrily at the top of his lungs all at once. He was trapped, and there was no way out. Atleast, not that he could see.

"Not particularly, no," he responded in a monotone. If Lucius had noticed his son's sarcastic tone, he didn't let on that he had. Instead, he patted his son heavily on the back and laughed. Draco glared at his father's reflection in the mirror as he pitched forward from the force of the blow.

"This marriage is a good thing, you know. The Andrews are well-established and respected in the wizarding community. They followed the Dark Lord as we did, they believe those filthy Muggle-borns should be wiped from the face of the planet. Yes, I believe you and Helena Andrews will be quite happy together," Lucius continued. "I'm very proud of you, my boy." It took all the strength Draco had not to make another sarcastic comment. Instead, he just plastered a false smile on his face and turned to face his father.

"I'm glad, Father," he responded.

"Well, I'm going to go check on your lovely bride now. Make sure everything's going according to plan," Lucius said seriously, turning and heading out of the room.

"You do that, Father. You just do that," Draco grumbled to the old man's back.

Draco loosened his tie and sunk down into a nearby chair. Putting his head in his hands, he closed his eyes. Visions of her spun through his head. He could still remember the first time he kissed her as clearly as if it were yesterday. The feel of her rosy lips against his, running his hands through her long, soft hair, the way she wrapped her arms around his neck and lifted one foot as she leaned into him. How was he ever going to live without her?

"You have to fight for your happiness . . ." Her words reverberated in his head over and over, making his heart ache like nothing he'd ever felt before. Fight? Fight for what? A girl who had walked away from him because she loved him that much? For his freedom from the expectations of his family? All his life, he'd known exactly what he was supposed to do. Go to Hogwarts, get good grades, get a top job in the Ministry, marry a rich fellow pureblood, have lots of pureblooded children. But what he was supposed to do and what he wanted were two different things. And what he wanted more than anything else in the world was to spend the rest of his life with her. To love her, to grow old with her, to have children with her. But how was he to do that, when he had to marry someone else?

"I love you, and I honestly trust that you will find your way to me, however long that may take . . ." Love? What was love? He hadn't even known until he found her. She'd taught him, about love, about so many other things. She was his rock, his strength. She kept him grounded, loved him for who he was, no matter what he did. She'd just given up her own happiness for him. No one had ever made that kind of sacrifice for him before. Would he do the same for her, if placed in the same situation? He knew he would. And he wasn't sure if he could take waiting very long to make his way back to her.

"But love isn't love until you give it away . . ." Those words hit him the hardest. Had she meant simply that love meant waiting until the right time to be with someone, and not trying to force it? Or had she meant that love wasn't really love until you showed another person that you loved them, until you shared the love inside of you with others? Until you loved completely, unselfishly? Perhaps she'd meant a little bit of both. He'd never been able to tell her he loved her, even though he loved her more than life itself. He'd barely been able even to show it most of the time, so afraid of his parents finding out, of others finding out, too worried about their expectations and opinions. Love . . .

It suddenly occurred to him that if his parents had really ever loved him at all, they wouldn't have tried to force him into some marriage he didn't want. They would have encouraged him to find true love, to find his soulmate. But they hadn't. They'd been too worried about their position in the wizarding world, about holding on to their power and money, to care. He pitied them. They'd missed the boat completely when it came to understanding real love. He knew they cared about him, but they didn't know how to really love him or anyone else. He himself hadn't known how to love until her. She loved him . . . and made him love without even trying . . . Why was he letting that go? Why was he giving up his hopes and dreams, his soulmate, for the hopes and dreams others had for him? Why was he flogging his guts out trying to be someone he'd never be, someone his parents simply wanted him to be?

Standing up, he exited the room and made his way across the back of the crowded chapel to the bride's room. Pushing the door open, he was showered with shrieks and shouts of, "You're not supposed to be in here!" and "It's bad luck to see the bride before the wedding!". But he no longer cared. He pushed past the bridesmaids to his father, who was sitting in a chair nearby.

"Father . . . I can't be who you want me to be," he began. His father stood up and moved to speak, but Draco put his hand up to quiet him. "I've never been the sort of person you and Mother wanted me to be, I've just been pretending. And I can't do that anymore." He smiled, feeling a little better, but still having more he needed to get off his chest. He yanked on his tie, ripping it off. "I refuse to continue following your orders for how I should live my life. I hate your version of my life. I've never been a supporter of Voldemorte, I've never cared a bit about whether someone was pureblooded or not. And I don't want to marry someone I don't love. You have no power over me or my life. And I have no obligations to you or the family to do as you wish. I'm not a puppet, and I wasn't born to carry out the family duties. I have my own life, people who really care about me, someone who loves me. I'm not going to give that up anymore for some . . . some fantasy you have about me being the perfect son and heir. I'm sorry." He shrugged, then turned to Helena.

"Look . . . I'm sure you're really nice and all. But I don't want to be with you, and I'm pretty sure you probably don't want to be with me, so let's just forget about it, okay?" She nodded as he said this, stunned. He looked to his father again, pulling his coat off and unbuttoning the top few buttons of his shirt as he spoke. "I'm going to go find the person I really love. And unless you can accept me for who I am, love me for it, and accept her, I don't want anything to do with you again." He grinned, looking around at all the shocked faces in the room. "Give the guests my regrets, will you? Ta!" And with a laugh and tossing of his coat to the floor, he made his way out of the room and the church.

As he stepped out onto the front steps of the church, he opened his arms outward and looked up into the sky. It was sunny, not a cloud in sight. He could hear birds chirping nearby and smell the fresh spring flowers. He took in a deep breath and spun about a few times. And for the first time in his life, he felt liberated. He let out a small, happy sigh before coming to his senses. He had to find her!

Quickly, he made his way down the street, hoping she had not gotten too far. He waved and greeted those he passed, suddenly filled with a delight and a love for mankind he'd not had before. He looked on the world with new eyes.

Finding no sign of her anywhere, he stopped under a street light, catching his breath. He looked about. Where was she? She couldn't have gotten that far. They were in a Muggle city. It wasn't as if she could disapparate - people would see her and become suspicious.

Frustrated, he looked up at the sky again, silently begging to whatever god, if there was one, that he could find her. As he looked down again, that was when he saw her. She stood across the street, staring at him, her cheeks tear-stained and a whimsical smile on her face as she saw him. His face lit up, and his heart soared.

Waiting until there were no cars, he hurriedly made his way across the street to her. When he reached her, he stopped, not sure what to say or how to apologize for all that he'd put her through.

"I . . . I . . . ," he stuttered. She put a hand to his mouth to quiet him. He took that hand in his, lacing his fingers through hers.

"It's alright. There's no need to say anything," she said in her quiet way. He smiled, pulling her to him.

"Yes, there is. There's something I need to say, and I should have said it a long time ago. I was just too scared to," he responded as she buried her head in his chest. He tenderly smoothed down her curly brown hair, resting his chin on top of her head. With her in his arms, the rest of the world just seemed to melt away into a blur. "I love you . . . I always have. Just sorry for not saying it sooner."

She stepped back and looked up at him, her chocolate-brown eyes full of tears. She grinned and laughed a little before standing on tiptoe and kissing him.

"Well, it's about time," was all she said before he pulled her into a passionate, fate-sealing kiss.

The End