Best I Ever Had

"I'm leaving."

That was it. She was leaving. She was leaving everything she had and ever wanted. She was going away and it was all because of him. They had shared so much, loved so much, but it was still impossible. He made it impossible. He made it impossible because despite everything that transpired, he never stopped believing that it was impossible. So she had to go. She couldn't stay. It was too much. The memories, the love, the pain-it all added up to her leaving. She would've given up the world for him, but now she'll never have that chance.

He was still seated in his chair. He saw her pick up her suitcase, turn on her heels and walk out the door of their hotel room. He was in pain. There were voices screaming inside his head to stop her, to hold her back, to just hold her and forget the world. Damn the world. But he didn't do that. He watched, pain scorching away at his heart, as she walked out the door-out of his life- and it slammed shut behind her.

**

It was a year ago that they had broken up. He hadn't seen her since. Draco Malfoy stared out at the soft raindrops at the window. It would've been their anniversary today. His mind involuntarily drifted back to thoughts of her.

So you sailed away

Into a gray sky morning
Now I'm here to stay
Love can be so boring

Nothing's quite the same now

I just say your name now

It had never been the same without her. A part of his life had gone missing. He knew that, but he also knew he couldn't do anything about it. They had risked enough.

But it's not so bad

You're only the best I ever had

It was time for both of them to live the lives they were destined for, the lives they both believed in. That was his thought then and it was still his thought now.

You don't want me back

You're just the best I ever had

He was engaged now. Not that he loved this woman, because he didn't. But it was time to marry and she was the most appropriate choice. What's the point in brooding about Hermione? She would never come back, not after what he put her through. He had let her go, freely. He had watched as she walked out of his life and made no move to stop her. Who was he to claim her back? Who was she to want him back? No, it was hopeless to even think about it. It was over.

So you stole my world

Now I'm just a phony

He tried to stop thinking about her, but found that he couldn't. He only remembered too well how Hermione Granger had changed him and his world. She gave it meaning, she gave it hope. She put unimaginable joy in his existence. Despite the absurdity of such a relationship, it had happened and it forever altered who he was. He couldn't help but feel insignificant with her gone, without her around. Days don't seem so bright anymore and nights don't provide much comfort either.

Remembering the girl

Leaves me down and lonely

Draco sighed. This was pointless. He was just making himself feel worse. This was not healthy. He was getting married. He should be happy. But he wasn't. And he knew why.

Send it in a letter

Make yourself feel better

Many times he had picked up his quill and parchment. Many times he had actually dipped the quill in ink and let it slide into words on the parchment. And many times he had crumpled it all up and thrown it shamefully on the floor. He wanted to write her, wanted her to know. It gave him excitement, pleasure, hope at the thought of her reading his words. He wanted her still. But he knew there was no way. Any hope for them was lost now. So nothing ever got sent. And really, nothing ever got written long enough to be considered anything worth sending anyway.

But it's not so bad

You're only the best I ever had

You don't need me back

You're just the best I ever had

But that didn't stop him from hearing things. He heard about her-he had his ways. She still kept in touch with her old friends, though she was an ocean away. She seemed to be doing fine and getting along well with her life overseas. Of course she would be; Hermione wasn't a quitter. Hermione was a winner. She was a hard, diligent, and faithful worker. And she was good, so very good. She would make it anywhere and everywhere all by herself, and no one else. She was doing well, upping the ranks in her job. She was making new friends. Last he heard, she was also starting to see someone again. It only confirmed for him how irrevocably gone she was from his life and his world. He had completely lost his first real and only love.

It may take some time

To patch me up inside

Draco gave up trying to work in his study. He knew he wasn't and never will be completely over Hermione. He would move on, yes he would, at least to the eyes of the world. But he knew he never could and would stop loving her. Maybe one day. he'll stop hurting. But that day wasn't today. And it won't be tomorrow either.

I can't take it

So I run away and hide

Nobody knew, but Draco had a hidden chamber. It was connected to a bookshelf in his bedroom at Malfoy Manor. And that was where he was heading now. The room itself didn't have much-just a desk, a chair, soft cushions, and single bookshelf. There were no windows, no paintings, no lavish tapestries that would identify the owner of the room as a Malfoy. It was simple, bare, and even cold at times but it was his solace. It was his escape, his way to shield himself from the outside world that had ruined so much for him. Walking out of his Study, Draco hurriedly climbed the stairs and strolled down the hallway of his floor. Finally, he reached his bedroom and went inside without hesitating. Slowly he closed the door to his bedroom and locked it with a special charm. He then proceeded to the bookshelf, tapped on the blue book on the third shelf three times, and the shelf shifted outwards, like a door. He slipped inside the opening stealthily and closed the shelf behind him firmly. No one would ever find him there, in that room. Without stopping, he marched straightaway to his desk. He knew what he would find there. The diary. And it wasn't really his personal diary, though it was indeed personal. It was where he wrote-to her. What he never could say in those crumpled, unsent letters, he wrote in that diary. What he could never bring himself to openly write; what pain, regret, and anguish he could never freely admit on those sorry rolls of parchment he poured out into the faded pages of the diary, one of now most treasured possessions. Upon reaching his desk, his hands flew automatically to the drawer where he hid the leather-bound book. In almost no time, he had a quill ready and like the many countless times before, he let his heart flow through his hands, opening the gates for his river of desperate words.

Dearest Hermione,

My love. It is our anniversary today, and I know what I would've given you, if we were still together. It would've made you the happiest of women and witches, yes it would. It is raining now, not a single sunshine in the sky, the last I looked. It matches my mood quite perfectly, now, doesn't it? I miss you still and always will. The wedding is a month away. I can't say I'm looking forward to it, but I have no choice. I've made the decision, and now I can only live with it. But I will never stop writing to you. You know you're always here, with me, in this book. It's as if I'm really speaking to you, and you're just pleasantly listening in. And though I ache for you to somehow respond, to talk back, I know you can't. Even a shout, a yell, anything from you would be welcome. Hell, I'd go as far as to call you MudbloodGranger again so that you can slap me. As long as your hand rests on my face, I'll be satisfied.

I will never stop loving you, Hermione. I never can. I had no idea true love could be that strong a spell, but I should have guessed it so, since it came from you. Look at me, writing like a lovesick puppy. Bet you'd never imagined I'd be capable of all this, would you?

You're right Hermione, I am not happy. I am hurting, just like you, and though I can never forgive myself for hurting you, this is how it must be. I can't make what's impossible possible-I wish you had understood that. I don't have that power, but by Merlin, I wish I did. But you're right, you always were, you know. About everything. You were right about me, and about us. And about this.

I may find in time

That you were always right

You're always right

I'm sorry, Hermione. You're right and I'm sorry. A part of me will always regret breaking us up, but the other, more realistic part will never feel so. Because we both know it would've happened sooner or later. Life was not on our side, no it wasn't. Fate was against us. I can only hope that one day you will realize this and find it in your heart to forgive me. Perhaps in another lifetime, fate would be kinder.

So here I am, left with memories of you, so bittersweet they are. And here I suffer, eternally. You need not plan any revenge on me, feisty Gryffindor, for this is it.

Draco paused as he heard someone tap on his bedroom door outside of the chamber. He strained his ears to listen if that person spoke.

"Mr. Malfoy, Miss Parkinson has arrived, sir."

It was his butler. Hastily, he closed the diary and shoved aside his quill. No one could know about this place. Quietly, he slipped back out of the chamber, pushed the bookcase back to its original position, and answered his butler.

"Tell Miss Parkinson I'll be down in a minute."

The fading chorus of footsteps told Draco that his butler had gone from the door. He then approached his mirror to check on his appearance. A few strands of his silver blond hair was dangling loosely about his forehead, irritating his sad gray eyes, and he heaved them back.

"You look as immaculate and handsome as ever, Young Master," the mirror said, "but the sad lines on your face do tarnish it somewhat a bit."

"I didn't ask for your expert opinion, you know," he grunted in reply. "It doesn't matter, really. Smiling gives you lines on your cheeks just as well."

"But those with happy hearts would not mind, good sir," the mirror replied, completely oblivious to Draco's state of mind.

Without responding, he turned away from the mirror and exited his room.

So you sailed away

Into a gray sky morning

Now I'm here to stay

Love can be so boring

His thoughts returned to Hermione again, as he deliberately slowed his pace towards the spiraling staircase. As he came towards it, he took a quick peek downstairs and caught the glimpse of a woman's long golden blonde hair. Not the sweet curly chestnut. He sighed once again, shaking his head.

What was it you wanted?

Could it be your haunted?

Why couldn't he get what he wanted, what he desired? Why couldn't he give her what she wanted and desired? The answer was so simple, yet so utterly complicated; the paradox formed a hopeless labyrinth inside his head. He mentally slapped his head to wave away his thoughts and stepped down the stairs.

The blonde woman heard him and rushed excitedly from where she was to the foot of the stairs, happy to greet him.

"Draco, finally!" she cried most jovially, as he approached her.

But it's not so bad

You're only the best I ever had

He tried his best to give a smile as they embraced, or rather, as she embraced him. He then pulled away, and out of habit rather than desire, snaked his arm around her waist. They both then headed for the dining room, where she had been invited as usual for her weekly dinner.

I don't want you back

You're just the best I ever had

If Hermione could see him now, she would shudder. He was always a professional at putting on façades and masks, and to anyone's eye, it would seem as though he was content to be with this woman, who clung onto him fiercely. But he wasn't, and he didn't want Hermione to ever see him this way. Even if it meant they would never see each other again. Because this façade would last long- possibly for the whole duration of his marriage, if the woman turned out to be a bearable wife. No, he'd rather not ever see her again, if she must see him live a lie this way.

They promptly entered the living room to the beaming eyes of his parents, who were already seated behind the elegant dining table. Draco gave a slight nudge to his fiancée and they assumed their designated places at the table.

This is my life now, no matter how I feel. No matter how hard I crave, dream, and continue to love you. You will always be the one, Hermione. But this is my life now; this is how it must be. You're the best I ever had, and ever will have. I love you. But we've all got our own separate lives to live now.. And by hell, I'm going to live it.

Draco smiled at his parents and they all began to eat and exchange the usual aristocratic pleasantries. As he took his bite and a conversation started, thoughts of his dear Hermione Granger began to fade away, waiting only to resurface sometime later on.

The best I ever had

The best I ever had.