I am …
Dying
It had been two years, and still Hermione lived with Draco Malfoy, in their home, she was officially Hermione Malfoy, and it had all the benefits he had promised her. His son was a handsome child, surprisingly at ease with himself, intelligent, not unloving. Hermione was extremely fond of him, often finding time in her day to suggests books to him to read, he was young, only four years old, but happy. She did her best to keep him that way. It was tinged with bitterness however, because she realised that she did love this child, even if he was not really her own.
Currently she was in her room, changing for a ball that Draco wanted her to attend, she hadn't been well for the last couple of days, but refused to acknowledge it as she took her ivory dress from its hanger and stepped into it.
"Hey," Hermione turned to the doorway and smiled, Draco was standing there, his arms crossed as he watched her get ready.
She would not say she loved him, because truthfully she did not, but it was hard for her not to grow a fondness for the man before her, two years together will do that to a woman. She was glad to say that it seemed to be a two way thing.
"Hey, could you help me with the zipper," Hermione asked as she turned her back to Draco, and waited for him to do the dress up for her. She heard him cross the room, and expected the feel him zip her up, but did not expect the feel of his hands sliding the straps of her dress down her shoulders. "Draco!"
She felt him smile against her shoulder, as she turned around, and raise her eyebrows at him. She smirked when his eyes darkened; she was not wearing anything beneath the dress.
"I need to get ready for this ball that you're insistent that I attend," Hermione told him sternly, Draco nodded, bending down to pick her dress up from the puddle it had formed around her feet, and pulling it back up her body.
"Well, are you almost ready?" Draco asked once Hermione was finally zipped up, with underwear on.
"Almost." Hermione said, putting on her pearl necklace and inspecting her reflection. "Could you pass me my shoes?" Hermione asked, Draco nodded her picked up the shoes, only when Hermione reached out to grasp them; she gasped and clutched her side painfully.
"What? Hermione, are you alright?" His voice was genuinely concerned.
"Of course." Her voice betrayed her words however, she was not alright. "Look, Draco, we'll go tonight, and then tomorrow we go to St Mungo's." Hermione said, forcing a smile onto her face.
Draco was apprehensive as he nodded and left the room, while Hermione recollected herself. She looked into the mirror, she did not look as brilliant as she had thought she did, she looked ill, but only if you really looked at her. Sighing she grabbed her purse and walked out of the room.
The night was beautiful all around the room there were smiling faces, beautiful dresses and a general good feeling, Hermione was sitting with Draco and few of his employees when she felt a stab at her side once again, expect for a quick wince she betrayed nothing.
Finally a song she knew well was being played and Hermione smiled at her husband. "Dance with me?"
Draco smiled his wife and held his hand out to her; together they stepped to the dance floor and danced together, Hermione's arm around his neck, and his arms pulling her close to him, as they moved to the soft beat.
"I think Hermione Malfoy, I love you."
Hermione was taken aback; she had not expected this from him.
Draco was looking down at her, smiling at her, and it was then that Hermione's eyes rolled into the back of her head, and she fell limp in his arms. She missed the look of total horror on his face.
"Mrs Malfoy was a time bomb," The healers voice was soft, pitying almost, as he explained to Draco what was happening. "She was very ill for a very long time, and she probably never knew it, small things like coughs, tiredness, severe mood swings. These things are not uncommon in women, and are usually put down to other symptoms, periods, diets, anything."
"So when I married her, she was already dying?" Draco asked, his voice pained as he looked into the room where his wife lay.
"Yes, I'm ever so sorry Draco; there was little anyone could have done."
"How long?" Draco asked, his voice strained, he almost didn't want to hear the answer.
"Days, maybe hours…"
When Hermione opened her eyes she looked to see Draco gripping her hand in his own.
"I'm sorry," His words were so final; she did not doubt what he meant. She nodded, her movement sluggish.
"Listen to me," Her voice was scratchy and so unlike what she was used to. "Tell Scorpius you love him every day. Don't let him ever change, you have a good boy, make sure he knows that. I love you, I should have told you every single day."
"Her-"
"I have made so many mistakes Draco; I've done terrible things… Please, for me, make sure that you can live with what you have done, because I am going to die with the true horror of what I have caused, the lives I have ruined, the lies I have told, and the mistakes I've made," Hermione told him, Draco was shaking his head he did not want to hear anything she was saying, she was not the woman he had met that day in the restaurant, she had become a good mixture of both, regained some of the kindness of her youth, become someone he could truly love, because of it.
"Can you do some things for me?" He did not want to fill her final requests, for she should not be making them.
"Get a pen and paper, and write this for me…"
Draco closed his eyes as he watched the woman before him shrink away into nothingness, she smiled at him.
"Remember to tell Scorpius that you love him, and tell him to tell Albus Potter how wonderful his mother was-" her voice was breaking just that much more with each word, and he wanted her to stop speaking, to save herself, but he could not, not now… "Tell him… tell him I'm sorry."
"Hermione, you didn- didn't mean for her to die," Draco whispered, barely able to look at her any longer.
"I shouldn't have done any of the things I did back then… Please Draco, don't tell me it wasn't my fault, because it was and we both know it… The only thing that came out of any of it was you and Scorpius, you both make me proud." her voice was fading, and he could not bear it.
"Hermione, please!" His head against her hand, he was holding her, gripping, praying it was enough to keep her in this world, and knowing it wasn't. "HERMIONE!"
Draco knocked on the door, he heard footsteps and the door opened, the person seemed surprised to see him.
"Malfoy?"
"I just came to give you this… Hermione wrote it, well I did, but she… Just…" he could not say anything more to the man who stood before him with concern in his eyes, for he knew and had witnessed a man breakdown from the loss of his wife.
Ron,
I am sorry, for not loving you enough, for not giving you what you needed, for not trying hard enough.
I am sorry for breaking her, for killing her, I didn't mean for that, I just wanted to hurt her the way I had been hurt, I only realise now that it hadn't been me that was hurt, but rather everyone else.
I don't know how to say sorry enough, I don't think I can.
If you can bring yourself to it, please be there for Draco, I love him now the way I used to love you, and I'm sorry if that sounds mean, but I hope you too have moved on.
I did love you once upon a time, and I will forever live with what I have done, and will accept whatever may come for me.
Tell James and Albus I'm sorry for taking their mother, for ruining it for them; tell Harry it was never meant to be that way it happened. I'll tell Ginny myself how sorry I am.
Please, watch out for Draco, he is not a bad man.
Hermione.