Disclaimer: I am not J.k. Rowling. If I was, do you seriously think I would be wasting my time writing fanfiction for my million dollar stories?

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Her Moment

There will always be a moment. A moment that means more than any other in a lifetime. Everyone's is different. Most are happy.

She knew hers.

There were a lot of moments to choose from. Ever since he had entered her life, there had been a million perfect moments.

There were the significant ones. The first time he kissed her. The first time he told her he loved her. The first time he made love to her.

And there were the insignificant ones that she would remember always.

The times he had laid there with her by the lake in the sun. The times he had laid there with her by the lake in the rain.

The times when he would unexpectedly brush her cheek or touch her hair. Then he would smile at her and call her beautiful.

The evenings where they laid on the couch, reading, but never paying attention to the words on the page, too occupied with the way they were curled up around each other.

The nights where they lay together, his arms around her. She could only fall asleep with his arms around her.

But it was a different day, a different moment that she would carry with her forever. It would be the one she remembered always. And it was not happy.

It was the day she learned it was a lie.

It was the day when he stood there with his grey eyes cold and sharp instead of gentle and caring. It was the day she fell apart.

It was the day he called her a mudblood for the first time in two years.

It was the day she cried for the first time in five years. She hadn't cried through the war. She hadn't cried since she was twelve years old.

It was that day. It was that moment. That moment when she finally saw him clearly. When she saw that he had never changed and every word, every kiss, every touch had been a lie. When she lost all faith in the world.

It was that moment that she saw him. It was the last moment she saw him.

She would remember that arrogant expression. She would remember that sneer. She would remember it was a lie. The other moments faded. They were stained by this moment. He had shattered the rest of them completely.

"I never loved you."

Four words had destroyed her. Four words made up the memory she would hold onto forever.

She looked at the newspaper and let the tears fall. She shouldn't cry. She had no reason to. He was a murderer, a liar.

But she looked at the obituary and cried anyway. Who else would cry for him?

Even though he hated her, and even though she would always remember him like this – cold, and heartlessly breaking her – she would cry for him.

Because even though she could remember him breaking her, she could also remember him loving her.

Because Hermione Granger had never moved on from Draco Malfoy.