by Black-Diamonds
 
 

Chapter 10
Emotional Surrender / Rain-Dissolved Truth
 

Every rain-soaked day brings drama to our lives. The dull greys and splatters of ice-cold hail
stir something in our souls. Rain seems to drive our inner-most emotions and push back the
surface of the facades we put on. Every window holds a secret, yet reveals one too.

Draco stood at a window, peering out from inside dark curtains. Again, it was raining, the
sky a menacing bruised greyish-blue-black. And she was out there again. The rain seemed to
call out to her, seemed to beckon her to come outside. He watched her lithe form, shoulders
slumped, clothes soaked thoroughly. Draco watched her approach an apple-tree, her fingers
reach out and grasp a plump red apple from a low branch. She raised the fruit to her lips, and
raised her eyes up to his in the window. A look that clearly said I-know-you-were-looking-at-me
appeared on her face, and her pale soft lips curled into what could have been a smile or a smirk.

“You love her don’t you?” A low voice almost growled from behind him. “You’re growing
weak, you pathetic love-struck boy.”

“Be quiet Severus...what do you know of love?”

Draco whirled around to face his old potions master, now a faithful advisor to him.

“Enough to know that look on your face.”

“What look?

Snape didn’t answer him, instead picking up a book from the desk, his long pale fingers fiddling
with the latch on the book.

“I asked you what look you are talking about. I don’t have any feelings for that...mudblood.”
Draco spat out, his eyes avoiding Snape’s.

“She intrigues you...you want to call her your own. I’m not stupid boy, I can tell obsession from
hate. Mudblood or not, she IS what you want.”

“You’re a useless old fool. I don’t know why I listened to you through all those boring potions
lessons.”

Draco became fidgety, and played with his pearly white finger nails. “You bore me.”

“Without me, you wouldn’t be where you are today.”

“Shut up!” Draco hurled a violent curse at him, causing Snape to wince in pain as the bones in
his left foot gave way with a sickening crack. Draco smiled, perfect white teeth against pale
pink flesh.

“Aint no satisfaction...”

With what dignity he had left, Snape turned sharply, sending his long black cape flying around
him like a blanket of darkness, and limped out of the room. Draco cautiously turned his eyes
back to the window, his singing fading away. She was once again playing at the edge of the
water, soaked with rain. She moved almost casually to a rock on the side of the
rain-drop-dimpled pond. Turning her face gently towards the sky, she smiled, just once...

Realisation and truth come in lightning-like flashes.

Draco suddenly knew what Hermione intended to do.

As he opened his mouth to cry out, Hermione had simply given herself to the cold dark waters
of the pond, her hair fanning out around her face like billowing silk. In a single moment, a terrible
aching filled him. All magic forgotten, no difference between hate and love, Draco tore himself
away from the window and dashed out of the room. Down flights of silent lonely stairs, his feet
pounded heavily against the stone floor. He reached the pond, his heart thumping furiously inside
his chest. Her body was gone from view, sunken below the water.Draco pulled off the heavy
woolen cloak from around his shoulders, but didn’t bother with his expensive black leather shoes.
He dived into the water, struggling to push through the reeds and pond flowers. A pale form
suddenly came up in front of her. A ghost-like figure surrounded by funeral-black clothes.

His Hermione.

The sudden thought of HER as HIS didn’t even surprise him. Nothing rarely surprised him
anymore.

His arms reached out and took a firm hold of her lifeless frame. Within moments that seemed to
span like forevers, he had pulled her above the surface, he himself struggling to give necessary
oxygen to his lungs. As he gently placed her on the frosty green grass beside the pond, he noticed
her lips were blue, and her hands strangely colourless. He had seen dead bodies. A lot of them.
Enough to know that Hermione was probably moments away from death’s door. His long slender
fingers gently felt for a pulse along her cold limp wrist. He found one, but it was barely there, like
a dying butterfly. Her flame was slowly burning out. Draco wanted to smash his head on something
hard. He could kill in a thousand different ways, but could not save lives. For all the lives he had
taken, he’d gladly give his to see Hermione live. Not wanting to give up, he vainly tried to revive
her. He covered her with the cloak he’d taken off earlier, and tried even muggle methods of
reviving people who’d come close to drowning. Nothing seemed to work. A heavy hand came
down on his shoulder.

“I loved a girl once...” Snape; wistful, brooding, tragic poet and psychotically biased ex-potions
professor. “She didn’t love me back though. Women...such useless beautiful creatures.”

“Shut up and help me you troll!” Draco glared up at Snape. “You think you could stop being a
drama-queen and actually help me wake her up?!”

“And why DO you want her to LIVE...Draco, Mr. Dark Lord?” Snape’s voice was noxious yet
lilting. “I thought you had all the powers in the world.”

“I don’t have one power.” Draco eyes looked back to Hermione’s face, and his hand held
tightly on to her’s. “I don’t have the power of love.”

“Tragic. Don’t think about breaking out into Celine Dion or I’ll have to tell everyone what a
snuggle-bunny the Great and Powerful Draco Malfoy is.”

“Shut up and help me!”

Snape sighed.

“I will, only so you don’t hurt my ears with your not so Great and Powerful vocals.”
 
 
 

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Chapter 11