The End of the Beginning (Draco Malfoy x Fem Reader)

Chapter Forty-Five: The Short Snippet of You

She sits on the stairs, weeping, the pain returns. She has never gotten over it, just bottled the feelings inside. No matter how hard she tried to forget, she never could and it tore her apart. 

y/n Weasley is broken. It's as simple as that. She distracted herself for so long, with a husband and children, but they never made the pain go away. Grief was something she was never good with. Little breakdowns seemed to become a part of her daily life. Moving on wasn't an option anymore. George Weasley approaches her, curiosity consuming his soul like always.

YOUR POV

GW: y/n?

I wipe away my tears quickly, trying to avoid any extra questions.

GW: What's the matter love?

Me: I--nothing.

GW: You were crying.

He looks down into my puffy red eyes and tear-stained cheeks. 

GW: You are y/n Weasley, formerly y/n y/l/n. You are the most powerful woman I have ever met and you have done amazing things. You...you find goodness in others, y/n. And when it's not there, you create it. I only wish to give you a little of the light you shine into the world.

I sniffle before laughing.

Me: You love me, don't you?

GW: Whaaaat? Nooooo. Of course I love you dumbass. 

I make finger guns at him causing him to laugh.

Me: What is love to you?

GW: Uh...People fall in love without reason, without wanting to. You can't predict it. That's love.

Me: Wow. Poetic.

He gently slaps my shoulder.

GW: Stop it...Tell me, why are you over here, in the corner of the stairs, crying? You're at work.

Me: I just had a moment. I needed to let go of some things. Speaking of me being at work, what are you doing at the Ministry?

GW: Dad needed something. 

Me: And that was...?

GW: An extra hand. He needed to sort some papers and you know that he likes to do that without magic.

Me: Yeah. Muggle shit.

GW: Exactly but I respect it.

Me: Me too. I love his dedication.

GW: I can tell. He says you're very helpful in the office.

Me: As helpful as a useless Auror can be.

GW: That was the stupidest thing you've ever said. You're an Auror. There's nothing stupid about you.

Me: Nothing?

GW: Nothing.

I laugh at the absurdity. Obviously, there are some stupid things about me.

GW: If beauty had a face, it'd be yours. 

I tear up at the sudden comment. I throw myself into his arms, my head on his chest, and sob. He just strokes my hair lovingly.

Me: I--It's so hard to get over them, George. 

GW: I know. It's been so long and you lost everything. I know. Shh.

Me: But you lost too.

GW: Not nearly as much as you, my love. I understand your pain but you've felt the grief at five times the amount I have. 

Me: George, I'm so sorry that you feel like the last choice.

GW: I never--

Me: I know you never said it but I can tell. Draco, Fred, then you. I can tell that's how it feels. In all honesty, that's how it was. I could never choose between the two of them. Then, I lost them both. I found you. You helped me find myself. That's when I decided that it was you. I needed you and you were there. I could never repay you for the love that I've been given--

GW: y/n,

He pulls my head off of his chest and leans it up to his.

GW: I'm the last choice. I'm the best last choice there is. You know what? It doesn't fucking matter that I was the last choice because what's your last name?

Me: Weasley?

GW: Confidence.

Me: Weasley!

GW: That's fucking right! You're a Weasley! That's all that matters. You still became a Weasley in the end. We have two beautiful boys and your last name is Weasley. That's the way it should be and that's the way it is.

Me: You're right. 

GW: When am I not?

Me: God I love you.

He boops my nose.

GW: I know.

I watch him walk away towards the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office. I smile to myself. 

Do you see that Loud Vaudeville? Yeah? Fuck you. You thought you could take away my happiness? You were fucking right but you forgot one person so...SUCK IT! 

The boys were right, it is more fun to say his name wrong. I pick up the locket from my neck and rub it, a habit I started after the war. There's a small indent where the paint has been rubbed away. I open the small hatch and see the snippet of the book page. By the gods...I miss you.