A Tale of Two Dragons: A Dramione Story

Chapter 16

"Incendio," Draco muttered.

He couldn't watch as Hermione's body burned. But it had to be done.

This is all my fault, this is all my fault, this is all my fault. I never should have brought her in on this. She's dead and it's my fault, Draco thought savagely, kicking a rock and watching it sail back into the forest with a small thud.

He tried not to listen to the crackle of the fire behind him. He couldn't think about the fire that was eating away at eyes he loved, the lips that he'd kissed, or her most brilliant mind. He paced around the forest, ripping down tree branches, scaring birds, and screaming at the sky until he fell underneath a bush, curled into the fetal position, and squeezed his eyes shut until the fire died down. There were no more tears left inside of him.

It was nighttime when the ashes had finally cooled. He looked upwards to the night sky. It was full of brilliant stars, more than he'd ever seen before because they were in such an isolated location. He found the constellation after which his mother named him. I hate you. You stupid stars. I wish those stars never existed.

Hermione's ashes lay at his feet. He crouched, reached out a hand, and touched them. They were still warm. The only way her body will every be warm again, he thought.

He raked his hands through the dirt, picking up handfuls of Hermione, and gently placing them into a jar he'd found washed up at the edge of the lake. He transfigured the jar into a brown urn with a vine curling up the side, mimicking the pattern on her wand.

He gathered her things and shrunk each pack down to the size of a postage stamp and stuck them into his own luggage, along with the urn. He turned around and saw the stone obelisk. With strength that was not his own he ripped it up, ran to the shoreline and tossed it in with a great splash. Breathing hard from the effort, he sank to his knees and put his head in his hands.

Looking up again, he saw a lump in the water. He lit his wand to investigate. It was the kulshedra's heart. He couldn't decide if he wanted to stomp on it or reach down and pick it up to study for magical purposes. In the end, he left the heart there. The lake had claimed three hearts that day; the kulshedra's, Hermione's, and his own.

~~~***~~~

Draco refused to use the portkey. He wandered aimlessly through the woods, but stumbled across the golden footsteps he and Hermione had left there a week earlier with their marking charm.

Two pairs of footsteps, Draco thought, Two.

It took him only three days to reach Drangue, but this time there was no more excitement in the journey. He had nobody to share his adventure with and trudging in the woods was lonely and dreary. He conjured his patronus to keep him company and it floated alongside him, reminding him that there was something in this world that could keep sadness at bay. Upon conjuring the patronus, his lips twitched into the first smile he'd had since Hermione's death, as he remembered the kiss they had shared underneath it.

This time he only stopped in Drangue to buy food, as he had tired from eating rabbits and squirrels. He didn't even stop on the road to Hotolisht, choosing to walk through the night, focusing on the pain in his feet rather than the pain in his heart.

Draco managed to find Mrs. Rugova's house and knocked half-heartedly on the door. She answered almost immediately. At first, she just took in his appearance. He hadn't shaved in quite some time and his clothes were stained, ripped, and smelled like lake water and sweat. His hair was overgrown and his eyes had large bags underneath them.

"Where is the girl?" Mrs. Rugova asked, but she already knew.

Tears sprang from Draco's eyes and his chin trembled. Mrs. Rugova drew him into a hug. She welcomed him inside and bundled him in a blanket, settling him on the couch.