Diary of Jane Chapter 2, a harry potter fanfic

Author's Note:

One of the two people that reviewed this asked for a second part. I also had someone ask that on the other site this is posted on. I had thought about it, but wasn't sure if I would write another part, when I heard a song the other day. I'd heard and loved the song before, but an idea for this sequel grabbed onto me while listening and wouldn't let go. So, I've written it.

I want to tell you up front that this is not a happy sequel. I also want to say that if you'd rather not read it, and just leave the shot as it was originally intended, I totally understand. I was actually quite afraid of ruining this shot with a not as good second part because it's one of my favorite things I've written. But I leave it to you guys to decide.

Well, I think this is a long enough author's note, so here we go.
If you do read, I would love to know what you think.

the song is called Zoe Jane and it is by Staind.

xxxxx

Sweet Zoe Jane

He took a deep breath as he paused on the threshold. The threshold of his home, of his entire life. What was left of his mangled heart was shredding to slivers and soon there would be nothing left. He fought back the desire to step back inside, knowing that to do so would be pure selfishness, and Draco Malfoy, whatever the hell he was, was not selfish. Heartless, perhaps now, but never selfish.

The first step was the most painful. The next was hardly easier, but by the time he stepped onto the front walkway the shreds of his heart were settling to the ground behind him and he was ready. He let the cold fury wash over and strengthen him, for God only knew the strength he would need now.

Draco stepped through the front gate and allowed himself just a moment to glance back at the forsaken old manor, flawless for decades, and flawless for decades to come.

With another deep breath, Draco Malfoy disapparated.

His left forearm tingled as he approached the castle that had been his home for so many years, but he ignored it. Soon it would never tingle again. The castle looked different, now, though he knew there was no physical difference, at least not on the outside.

There was a dark figure approaching the gate and Draco realized in a detached sort of way that he was indifferent to who it might be. It didn't matter anymore. Nothing mattered but her, Jane, his sweet Zoe Jane.

The man chuckled, a deep throaty sound that echoed gently across the empty grounds.

"Well, well, well, it's nice to see you, Malfoy."

Draco said nothing, but inclined his head slightly to his former comrade.

The man chuckled again at Draco's silence.

"Yer not trembling yet," the man was obviously amused. "Well, yeh will be. He'll be right pleased to see yeh."

Draco nodded again at the man's wicked grin, and slowly they began the descent to the castle. Walking as he was, to the end of his life, Draco couldn't help but remember why he was here to begin with. He couldn't help but see perfectly the moment that had so radically changed his life, right here on these very grounds.

"Following me Granger?" He couldn't help himself anymore than he could help the spite in his tone. It wasn't hatred inspired, it was pain, but she'd never know that. She could never know that.

"Why do you hate me, Malfoy?" came the snap of a reply, but the bite escaped her tone, and his head jerked around in surprise.

"You're a Mu…" the word died on his mouth. He couldn't say it. The word had flown from his lips countless times and yet he couldn't bring himself to use it against her.

There was something in her eyes. Something akin to begging—as if she wanted to hear him say it. "Go away, Granger," was his eventual reply.

"Fine," she whispered, and it was the softness to her voice that he'd never heard before that had him catching her arm, spinning her around until their eyes locked.

"I couldn't begin to explain the reasons why I hate you," he murmured, his voice tense with concealed agony.

She flinched slightly under his hand and swung her head away, her hair tumbling across her cheek, hiding her face from him. He noted, subconsciously that her hair smelled like fresh jasmine, like his grandmother used to grow in her garden, and still she didn't pull away.

His hand loosened on her arm and her head snapped back around to glare at him, not bothering to conceal the tears in her glittering eyes anymore.

"Give me one."

"What?"

"One reason." Her voice trembled. "Tell me. One. Reason."

It was her eyes that made him do it. He didn't even pause. Didn't even think. The words didn't even cross his mind as they slipped as a whisper through his lips.

"I love you."

One of the tears spilled from her eye and slid down her cheek as she took a shaky breath.

"Say it again," she demanded quietly, and Draco barely realized how close they'd gotten.

He closed his eyes, waiting for the blow as he whispered again, his voice strangled, "I love you."

And then he felt her collapse into him and his arms came around her automatically.

"Oh, Malfoy, I love you, too."

Surely he was hallucinating. Or this was some sort of practical joke. He pulled away abruptly.

"What?"

Her eyes were confused as his face became unreadable.

"I… I love you, too," she sounded almost hesitant, but they were the most beautiful words he'd ever heard.

And then he kissed her.

"Wait right here, Malfoy."

Draco nodded as he stopped outside the dungeon that the Dark Lord had taken as his own. It was ironic, or perhaps perfect, he mused, that he stood on the brink of death and all he could think about was the reason he'd ever found life.

He wondered, not for the first time, if she'd even had the chance to think. If she'd realized seconds before that she was going to die. He wondered selfishly if she'd thought of him, and knew immediately that if she had had a moment, even a second, exactly where her thoughts would be. Zoe, their sweet Zoe Jane.

The pain he knew he was about to endure, was nothing to how he felt when he remembered that no one knew. No one would ever know, no one except Zoe. There was the one other man who knew some part of the story, but Draco didn't know how much Hermione had told him. What Draco did know, was that he owed this man his daughter's life, and that was just one more reason why he was here.

"He'll see you in just a minute," the man's words seemed distant as his face twisted again into a grin. Draco didn't see it; he didn't hear a thing after that. He was lost suddenly and certainly in a torrent of memories. He was grateful he'd left the remains of his heart in pieces at the Manor, for otherwise he knew he couldn't bear the sweet sound echoing through his mind now.

"Draco, I'm pregnant."

He stared, uncomprehending for several long moments, as tears filled her big chocolate eyes.

"I'm sorry," she whispered finally and the haze evaporated abruptly.

"Don't say that," he snapped, pulling her to him and crushing her in a hug. "Don't you ever be sorry for this."

"I'm not. I couldn't be. I love you." And he held her while she cried away all her tears and she finally let him wipe the remnants away with his thumb.

"Jane… Hermione." He often lapsed into calling her Jane when he was thinking of them. Thinking of him. The one who couldn't know of her.

"Yes?" He hated that she was already afraid.

"No one can know." His eyes bore into hers looking for any sign of disagreement.

She swallowed as her eyes shut. "I know."

"I don't know…"

"I do. It's okay."

"Of all people, Hermione?"

"He'll never know. He'll never ask."

Draco breathed out, as he pinched the bridge of his nose, harnessing his temper with all of his strength. She was the last one who deserved the fury coursing through him.

"Alright," he whispered finally.

He wondered to this day whether Ron knew. He'd probably suspected, but whether Hermione had ever confirmed, he didn't know. He would soon. He let the pain that coursed through him at this thought, wrap around him and blanket the hole that had once been his heart. It was better this way, he reminded himself, better for her.

Oh Jane… his sweet Zoe Jane. He'd given her that name as a tribute to her mother. He knew no one would realize… but she would know. She needed to know her mother was still a part of her. As his thoughts turned to the curious chocolate eyes, the delicate innocent laugh, a strangled gasp escaped his lips, and only then did Draco realize he was suppressing sobs. No, he couldn't fall apart now. Just a little while longer. A little while longer for his sweet Zoe Jane.

He knew even in the few short months since her birth, he had held her far too little, and seen those beautiful eyes of her mum's too few times. He didn't even try to tell himself that a baby born in the midst of a vicious raging war could expect no less, because there really was no excuse. He'd long exhausted the thought that if only Hermione had been there… that too was no longer an excuse in his mind. She'd deserved better… they'd both deserved better. He'd failed at protecting Hermione, but his perfect little daughter; she, he could still save. She, he would save—tonight.

He hoped she would remember him… that she would think of him… wonder about him. He hoped they would tell her…

He stared at her from a few feet away. Afraid that if he got too close, touched a tiny hand, or looked into those warm brown eyes, one more time that he would crumble. He turned away and took a step. He turned back. She was still smiling up at him and he felt the tears prick his eyes and he couldn't keep them from spilling out. She was so beautiful, so like her mother already.

His sweet Zoe Jane…

Well I want you to notice
To notice when I'm not around
And I know that your eyes see straight through me
And speak to me without a sound

Draco had to fight the tears as he fought away the memories that automatically brought them to his eyes. He sucked in a breath, hearing it amplified in the too still hall of the too empty castle. The door opened beside him and he pulled their faces to the front of his mind. There was no hiding it anymore. The Dark Lord would know why he was there, and enduring these final moments were all that was left. Jane… Hermione… Zoe… Jane would be his final thought, his final love, his final act.

He stepped over the threshold, the threshold of his life.

I want to hold you
Protect you from all of the things I've already endured
And I want to show you
Show you all the things that this life has in store for you
I'll always love you
The way that a father should love his daughter

Smiles and chocolate eyes flashed alongside echoes of laughter, filling his mind as he stepped forward. There was so much he wished he could do for her. So much she needed from him. He tried to block the thoughts that poured unbidden into his mind… Who would tell her of her mother, of Hermione… Who would tell her how much both her parents loved her… Who would tell her of him? Would anyone even know that he'd ever changed… that in his final days he'd done everything he could to save his daughter?

"Why so sad, Draco?" the soft taunting voice fell on deaf ears. Draco was lost to him, lost to the world. He was in the midst of memories now, for if he was to die, he would do it thinking of them, of her. Jane, Jane, sweet Jane.

"And why did you not bring your daughter to visit? Surely we should become acquainted?"

Draco's icy eyes flashed up to the red, hollow and broken, but he said nothing. He could hear Hermione's voice in his ear as she whispered the first words to their daughter. He could feel her lips against his that same morning, the last time he'd ever touched her.

"Why are you here, Draco? Tell me." The Dark Lord was clearly amused at the situation, but Draco could hardly spare a bit of emotion for this soulless man who had taken everything Draco held dear.

"I wish I could be here," Draco said quietly, almost to himself, though his eyes still bore sightlessly into the depthless red. "When he kills you."

The Dark Lord laughed, a harsh, humorless laugh.

"Potter? Surely you don't speak of Potter."

Draco didn't reply.

Silence reigned for a long while as the Dark Lord surveyed the young man before him, before finally drawing his long fingers together and resting his chin on their tips.

"Do you really believe I would kill you, just because you wish it?"

"Yes."

"Why?" the Dark Lord seemed honestly curious.

"You couldn't resist anymore than a cat could resist a trapped mouse," Draco's voice dripped with venom, and there was no room in his mind for doubt of his words. It had to end here. He was prepared to do what he must to end this tonight.

The Dark Lord seemed to be pondering this thought, but Draco had already slipped inside his mind once more. It was the only thing keeping him sane, as he knew his final moment was ticking nearer.

Once he'd turned for good, he walked away quickly. He knew if he stopped walking now he'd never make it. The tears he'd been unable to keep from falling, continued to stain his ghost pale face, but they garnered no notice from him. He had one last thing to do.

The house elf already had its instructions. It merely needed the final command, and everything would be done. By nightfall, sweet Zoe would no longer be alone. By nightfall she'd find warm arms to hold her once more. Draco ached that it couldn't be him, but he knew there was no other way. No other way to keep her safe.

When I walked out this morning
I cried as I walked to the door
I cried about how long I'd be away for
I cried about leaving you all alone

There was no doubt in his mind they'd accept her. He had a feeling even, that Ron would know. Soon, certainly, but the moment he saw her eyes… Jane's eyes. Hermione's eyes. Yes, Ron would know.

"I'm going to kill you," the Dark Lord mused.

"Yes."

"Why?"

Draco didn't reply.

"It would be a waste to spill blood as pure as yours."

"Yet spill it will," Draco whispered.

"Hm." The Dark Lord seemed utterly perplexed at the turn of events. "You plan to provoke me."

"If I must."

"Go on then."

Draco's eyes stayed unfocused for just a moment as the precious face of his daughter flashed once more in his mind's eye.

He brought his wand up as he blinked and his eyes sharpened abruptly, taking in the calm look on the Dark Lord's face.

"Avada—."

The spell knocked Draco from his feet and the air whooshed from his lungs, the incantation falling unfinished from his lips.

The Dark Lord was standing now as Draco clambered back to his feet.

"Avada—."

Draco felt his chest turn to fire as a gash cut through his skin just above his heart.

"Avada—."

"Crucio."

He'd expected that one sooner, but this thought along with all others evaporated from his mind as it filled with pain, only pain.

The second the spell was removed Draco fell gasping to all fours as her eyes blinked brightly up at him from behind his.

Sweet Zoe Jane
Sweet Zoe Jane

Then the pain hit him again and finally a scream was wrenched from his lips, a scream that had building from the moment he'd heard the words, "She's gone," the moment he'd realized there was only one option left, the moment he'd realized his only hope lay in the two men he'd always hated.

"Draco, Draco, don't make this so easy," the Dark Lord's voice echoed in the suddenly silent dungeon.

"Avada—."

This time Draco was only thrown back.

"Stand up," the Dark Lord commanded quietly.

Draco climbed slowly to his feet, his thoughts still full of his little girl. She was safe now, or would be soon. He'd lost track of time since he'd stepped through that wrought-iron gate. She would have the smallest piece of him that he could give her… a letter to be given to her whenever her new guardians saw fit. It was this final thought, remembering that she would at least have a tiny piece of him, that she couldn't forget him entirely, that reassured him that this was where he was meant to be.

So I wanted to say this
'Cause I wouldn't know where to begin
To explain to you what I have been through
To explain where your daddy has been

Draco straightened himself to his full height and looked the Dark Lord in the eye. "She'll forever be safe from you. No matter how long it takes Potter to kill you, which he will do." He spoke quiet and sure, his eyes once again openly meeting the red he had feared for so long. Fear… there was no fear left in him now. There was hardly anything left. Nothing but a final sweet memory.

The Dark Lord never even acknowledged that Draco had been right all along. He never realized as he raised his wand, so immersed in the moment, in the anticipation of killing, that this had never been his fight to win. From the moment he'd stepped through the door, Draco had surrendered fully and willingly for his daughter's life. And in a faint echoing memory of Lily Potter, there was a green flash and a father collapsed to the floor.

No one could touch her now, not his Jane, his sweet Zoe Jane.

Sweet Zoe Jane
Sweet Zoe Jane