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September 19th, 2004, 5:42 am
He couldn’t sleep.
It’s not like he wanted to sleep, due to nightmares, but he was exhausted. Today was going to be a long day. It always was.
He decided that if he couldn’t sleep, he might as well try and start off the day earlier than planned. He didn’t have much to do to keep himself at least a bit busy this afternoon. It was his wife’s birthday. He mostly had everything together for the date. He had some food in the fridge for himself, he had an empty parchment and a quill for a letter for her, and he had her favorite flowers--tulips--sitting in a small, clear vase in the middle of their kitchen island that he had bought the day prior. He only bought this bouquet specifically for her today, despite the fact that he had his own vase of tulips in the bedroom on his nightstand.
The smell of them reminded him of her. He needed as many reminders as he could physically grasp.
He decided to start the letter.
9:30 am
It took him what it felt like years to write that letter and finish it. He started off dry eyed, attempting to convince himself that he was okay. Now, his cheeks were stained with tears while he sat on the floor, head in his hands. The letter was sitting on the right side of the bed--her side of the bed--while the ink was drying.
He never cried. He had thought that his life could not get worse than it already was.
Ex-Death Eater, no parents, barely any remaining friendships that Draco had were gone, and now she-
No.
She was not gone. Not to him.
10:56 am
Draco decided to shower to start to get ready. Their date was at 2:00 that afternoon. It’s not like he had far to really go honestly, just a room over from their bedroom but he wanted to make sure that he looked decent.
Draco heard the Floo from the living room, someone was here. No one came to visit anymore. He walked out into the living room to be greeted by Theodore Nott, Pansy Parkinson, and...Harry Potter?
His life could definitely get worse than this.
“Draco. Hi,” Pansy said, looking at Draco.
Draco hadn’t seen Pansy or Theo in two years, not since the incident. He started to stray away from his friends, even Theo. Draco and Theo grew up together and Theo was meant to be there for him, but Draco didn’t allow him to be. And Harry? Harry wasn’t there for him. He was there for Hermione.
“Pansy. Theo. Potter. What can I do for you guys?”, Draco asked, looking at the three of them.
“Hey mate, we know today is going to be a hard one so we’re here for support,” Theo said with a smile. Draco thought, “How could he smile on a day like today?” He knew he just was putting up a facade.
“I don’t want support. I just want to spend today with my wife,” Draco snapped.
“Malfoy-” Harry started to speak.
“You are the last person I expected to see but I’m not one bit surprised. You aren’t here for me, Potter. You’re here for her, for Hermione. But you don’t get to see her, none of you do,” Draco pointed to everyone in the room. “This is her birthday and I’m sorry to deny you all of seeing her but she is my wife and today is a horrible fucking day but I do not want to hear your apologies. I don’t want comfort. I don’t want to be told to move on because I can’t. I won’t.”
“Draco-”, Pansy said, reaching her hand out to place on his shoulder. Draco flinched and moved back, looking at her in disbelief almost.
“And you. You, you were her best friend. Not once did you ever say or do anything about this. Is that what friends do now? Huh? Tell me, Pansy,” Draco yelled in her face. He didn’t mean to have an outburst like this, but it had been so long since he had gotten genuinely upset.
“Draco, you know that I tried don’t say that. She was my best friend, there’s nothing more any of us can do, she’s gone and you have to understand that.”
“Get out.”
“Mate, please-” Theo tried to speak but was cut off by Draco’s yelling.
“Do not try and console me, Theo. I don’t want it. I don’t need it,” he said. He was crying again.
“Let’s just go. He’s too fucking stubborn to understand simple things like this,” Harry snapped.
“Fuck you, Potter.”
Pansy went back up to Draco to hug him, his arms still laying down at his sides. She gave him a light kiss on his cheek. She had pulled back when Theo came up to squeeze his shoulder. Harry just stood, watching.
They left.
The second that they had walked out of his flat, he grabbed the nearest thing and threw it with all the strength he could gather towards the wall next to him.
He quickly realized what he did and let out a sharp gasp, followed by sobs. He walked towards the broken glass on the floor, picking up the broken picture frame. In his hands was a picture of Draco spinning Hermione around, the light from the camera making the new, large diamond ring on her finger shine. It was the night when Draco had proposed to Hermione, a tear falling on the corner of the picture in his hands.
12:00 pm
Draco had cleaned the mess he had made in the living room and decided to go out to Diagon Alley to get a new picture frame. He also decided it would be a good idea to get out for a little bit.
He arrived at the shop where he was going to buy the frame. It took no more than five minutes. He just needed the fresh air honestly.
On his way to the apparition point, he stopped at Flourish and Blotts, just to see what was in there. He walked up and down the aisle, just browsing at titles. When he reached the end of one row, he looked at the end to see a girl reading a book. He stopped in his path.
This girl had frizzy, untamable hair, brown just like his wife’s. She was nose deep in a book with a familiar cover to him. It was Hogwarts, A History. Hermione?
It took him no more than three long strides to get to this woman. “Granger?”, Draco asked the girl.
She looked up from her book, staring at him quizzically. “No, sorry,” she said, closing the book to put it back on the shelf and leaving.
Gods, he really needed to go back home, this wasn’t a good idea.
He walked out of the bookstore, walking faster, practically running to the apparition point when a blond head grabbed his attention.
It was a little blond haired boy, no older than 3, running around the streets of Diagon Alley. He had the biggest smile on his face, just enjoying being a kid. This brought a pain to his heart, almost feeling his heart shatter. He remembered then that him and Hermione had been trying for a child.
1:30 pm
He was a mess after he got home, crying once again that day. He never cried much, he truly hated it honestly. Draco felt as though crying made him look weak, and being weak was one thing he absolutely hated. Hermione used to tell him that he was a strong person for going through what he has, but she wasn’t able to tell him this anymore.
It was nearing the time for their date so Draco had decided it was time to get ready. He decided to keep it very simple since it was just going to be the two of them. He dressed in a nice white dress shirt, with some black dress pants along with black shoes. He kept his hair in his natural state with nothing in it, the longer pieces of hair coming down in front of his face.
Hermione enjoyed seeing his hair untouched with no product, being completely natural. She used to always tell him how horrible his hair looked when they were younger and it was slicked back and Draco agreed as well. He wanted to make sure that he looked his best for her. Of course, she had seen him at his absolute worst during school and through the loss of his parents, but she deserved more than a badly put together outfit, she deserved so much.
He went into the kitchen and prepared the food for himself. He was about to enter the room to see her, when he remembered something he had forgotten. The letter.
He entered the bedroom and found the letter still sitting on Hermione’s side of the bed, ready to be read off to her.
2:30 pm
Stepping out of his bedroom, he made his way to the room. This room he prevented from going in too often, the last time being the year before, her last birthday. His hand wrapped around the doorknob opening the door.
He walked in and turned around to shut the door. He made his way to the chair sitting in front of the fireplace, with a portrait above it.
This was a portrait of Hermione Granger, his wife. She looked stunning in this picture, wearing a red dress, her hair pinned up with two strands coming down to frame her face. It wasn’t really Hermione to Draco though.
She heard the door open and went to go back to her rightful place in the portrait. She looked at him for the first time in a year. She wanted to cry. He wanted to cry, but he wouldn’t.
He set down all the things he was holding except the letter between his shaking fingers.
He inhaled an unsteady breath and went on to read the letter to her.
“It’s been a year. I’m not sure what to say. I come here every year, I’m sure that you were expecting me.
I can’t even try to put into words how much I miss and think about you.
I can’t sleep most nights because I have nightmares about that day. The day that you were taken from me. And if I don’t have nightmares, it’s because the bed is too cold and empty without you in it.
I don’t think that you can speak, considering you haven’t yet, but it’s alright. I do miss your voice. I can’t remember it anymore.
I would do anything for you. I still would. I would die for you, to see you again. I would do anything to be able to hold you in my arms, protect you from every horrible thing in this world. But I couldn’t do that before. I couldn’t protect you.
I blame myself for why you died that day. It was supposed to be a day where you enjoy yourself, your own birthday. Now, it’s a day that is reserved for mourning. I know it’s not my fault that you were killed, but I should’ve always protected you, every second I got. I let my guard down and that resulted in losing you.
Your favorite flower is tulips. I got you some yesterday, as a birthday gift. I also keep some next to my bed stand. I make sure that they are always fresh so I can smell something that will remind me of you every day.
You never leave my mind, Hermione. You never will.
I sometimes hope that this is a horrible nightmare that my mind has made up that will end at some point. I’ll wake up and this will all be a dream.
I will forever be in love with you, I will never forget you, I will always miss you.
Please come back.”
Draco looked up at the portrait to see a small glint in her eyes. He missed her eyes. They were like beautiful, swirling pots of honey that brought warmth to his body every time he looked into them. The eyes now that he was met with was a thick piece of fabric with colors on top. It wasn’t the same.
He stood up to pick up the flowers and smell them before setting them on top of the fireplace for her.
“Happy Birthday, Hermione. I love you,” Draco said, sitting back down on the chair, looking at the crackling fire before him, a stray tear falling down his cheek.
“I love you too,” he faintly heard, looking up at the portrait before him in disbelief, seeing Hermione smiling down at him.