Personal Hell

With my broken heart, I've played my part

No doubt you have as well

With shattered dreams, I've torn the seams

And created my personal Hell

She loved him without reason, without any semblance of truth or normalcy, without hope or dreams for a future together. She loved him in the present with no falsities or misgivings. He was an underling for the dark side. She accepted it but, no less, hated it.

That was why she always returned to the white tomb, not because of Dumbledore, not to mourn him – completely anyway. She knew that Dumbledore had seen some good in Draco and had learned as much from Harry. But she couldn't see it until that night, when he saved her.

When he proposed his covenant.

"What Slytherins do is for their own benefit. Always."

When she sealed it by taking that silly little bottle that changed everything.

"And what are you benefiting from this?"

Everything…

"I just have to remember is all… Love doesn't let you forget."

The world turned grey with him. She was turning grey as well.

She was no longer naïve. Sometimes to win one has to make sacrifices. Sometimes one has to fight fire with fire. Sometimes one has to love their enemy.

Black and white had no place in a world of war.

I don't love you, I don't need you

But that's just a lie I tell

I don't love him, I don't need him

He doesn't fit in my personal Hell

At first, she thought she loved Ron.

But then, he proved her wrong, so completely, unbelievably wrong.

She never thought she would be the one who was attracted to the less savory. But he was her dark angel. She dreamed of him at night, tossing and turning, never getting any sleep as his words haunted her. When she opened her eyes come morning, she could see his eyes, like cold liquid steel, looking back at her, for an instant.

It was an instant that seemed like eternity.

He had, of course, been horrible to her. It was no lie. He had been a right demon to her and her friends. He had planned the night that led to Dumbledore's passing.

But then that night in the cell at the Riddle House, when he touched her skin and it burned, when he saved her life and condemned himself…

"Stupid, mudblood, it's not personal."

But it was personal, too personal to stop her about thinking about him, fantasizing about him.

Upon your tracks I follow, my heart's grown cold and hollow

You didn't catch me when I fell

Falling in doubt with you, falling in love with you

Falling in my own personal Hell

He was following her.

She smiled slightly as she let herself take a detour to the west gardens. A padlock was on a rusty gate, nearly over grown with ivy. She tapped it three times with her wand and it sprang open with a loud creak and she walked through smile on her face.

She walked through the crumbling paths, frosted vines crunching under her feet. She passed the broken statuary, smiling at the sculpture of an angel which was surprisingly still intact. Then she came to where she had meant to come all along when she ventured into that seemingly forgotten hideaway – a cracked, dry fountain with phoenix as its spout, face lifted upward.

She sat on a stone bench in front of it, staring at the phoenix. How long has it been since the lament of Dumbledore's death broke the air?

She heard a rustle behind her and looked out of the corner of her eye at him, standing rigidly still, watching her, dark hood shadowing his beautiful eyes.

I dream of your touch, I want you so much

Silent with my unspoken tale

These shackles round your feet, so close to me you tease

Must you make us live in our own personal Hell

"Why are you here, Draco? Did you come to mock me, take away your sacrifice?" Her voice was calm as if she were only commenting on the weather. She looked over her shoulder at him, a mischievous look in her previously sad eyes. "If you came to kiss me, you mustn't tease so."

"Granger…"

"Yes, Draco?"

He stared at her, walking toward her, opening his mouth to speak only to find himself incapable of words. She turned in her seat and looked up at him, her next words mocking him.

"You shouldn't tarry long on enemy grounds, love."

He opened his mouth to speak and again his words failed him. He looked down, sneering at her and she smirked in response. With a growl and with swiftness he didn't know he possessed, he reached down and grabbed her by her arms, pulling her small body up against him. The vial he had given to her was pressed between them.

Without a thought of what he was doing next, he pushed his lips against her hard and despite his brutality, she moved her mouth against his gently. He went lax against her, melting in her arms. She ran her fingers through his hair, his hood falling back and she leaned back to feather kisses all over his face. She nuzzled noses with him and leaned her forehead against his, leaning up on the tips of her toes.

"If you came to make fun of me, I'm afraid I'll have to hex you."

He chuckled at her and a small smile she had not dared spread across her face. He looked into her eyes, eyes that she had dreamed of for what seemed like forever.

"I want a way out, Granger."

A perplexed look crossed her face. "What?"

"I'm not Weasley. I'm not thick."

Tears sparkled in her eyes and he leaned forward to brush his lips against hers.

"I don't think you'll be able to understand. So for now… just leave me alone."

"I'm not leaving you alone, Granger."