Dramione Diaries | Fluffy Oneshots

07 | i'm sorry

Dear Hermione,

I'm sorry.

Claps of thunder. The sharp wind. Pattering of rain.

The whistles and pounding against the black, rectangular windows as jagged branches thrashed violently against the chilly surface of it. They filled the silence in between.

Precious antique furniture. Pushed to the corners of the room to prevent from stains. To make more space in the middle for where one lanky figure was crouched above another dressed in ripped, bloodied attire.

His impassive demeanor stared soullessly at the two witches who took the full attention of everyone at the center of the room. He trained his gleaming silver eyes on the witch pinned to the floor, his ears ringing with the beautiful tone of her painful cries and his attention enraptured by the enticing movements of her writhing body.

"Crucio."

He was one of the many watching the scene that was precious to all Death Eaters, as it was one of their greatest successes to seize one of the Golden Trio. They felt the proud accomplishment under their expressionless facade at the enthralling scene before them, their faces lighting up with glee hearing the mudblood's horrific cries and eerie whimpers as the crazed Death Eater cooed for the essential information from the Order.

"Crucio!"

His face cracked a sinister grin at the witch's choking, desperate pleas. His throat swallowed at the sudden rush of a stirring thrill. A look of pleasure gleamed in his silver irises. He shared an amused smirk with one of his fellow Death Eaters, mouthing filthy obscenities and crude wishes towards the pitiful witch. With his sickly grin and look of a feral man with eternal bloodlust, the others see him thoroughly enjoying the long awaited torture.

"Crucio!"

But his chest, his heart, oh Merlin was it shattering. Imploding him from the inside out at every sharp gasp of breath before another agonizingly raw scream slipped past her chapped, cut lips. Her desperate sobs and cries clouded his overwhelmed thoughts until he was sure her screams will stay with him in his sleep for the rest of his life.

A thick, dark liquid substance gradually pooled around her, reaching his expensive shoes and permanently staining it red.

He couldn't move.

He smiled.

I'm so so sorry. Please forgive me.

He watched intently as she thrashed under Bellatrix's hold, straining his ears to hear the mumbling threats his aunt had hissed in her ear. The muggleborn witch's cheeks were soaked in her never ending tears, her eyes glassy and broken as it flitted aimlessly at the black ceiling above her. He saw her throat constrict when she swallowed back another painful cry as the deranged Death Eater flashed a blade for all to see and rested the razor edge against the pale skin of her arm.

Her eyes fluttered in panic, and her palms clenched to brace herself as the cold, metal knife glided easily into her skin. His ears rattled once again with her sobs that shook her entire body.

A bigger sneer to his lifeless face.

Another large crack to his chest.

It was nothing compared to the pain she was feeling.

I didn't stop it. I'm a coward.

His view had been welcomed to the sight of freshly dripping scarlet when Bellatrix carved out the first letter 'M'. The curly-haired witch's arm streaked with her own blood that leaked heavily from the cut, and later after a long period of raspy screams and his aunt toying with the helpless witch, there was a fully carved out writing of the word 'MUDBLOOD'.

I should've done something. I stood and smiled. Just like the rest of them.

"Crucio! Crucio! Crucio!"

His eyebrows almost lifted. He should've expected it. But he assumed it would end after the carving. Of course not. His aunt was uncontrollable. She did whatever she wanted. No one could stop her.

The battered witch thrashed violently against the cold, tiled floor. Her body convulsed painfully when the last of the spells hit.

Blood. Cries. Unconscious. Tears.

His lips parted. His breathing stopped. He stared at the unmoving, bloodied body of Hermione Granger.

Bellatrix looked up from her work, a maniacal laugh of joy escaped her lips and echoed through the hollow walls of the dark manor. She stood up and waltzed towards him, a light skip to her erratic steps.

"Drakey, it's your turn. Have your first taste of real bloodlust with this stupid mudblood." She cackled in delight, running a pointed finger covered in dark blood against his cheek.

Red and sticky. Hermione's blood. On his cheek. He couldn't wipe it off.

He smirked at his aunt.

Pleased with what had occurred, Bellatrix ordered the Death Eaters to leave off with her. They did as commanded, praising him for his lucky opportunity at having a go on the unconscious witch before apparating out of the copper-scented room and leaving him alone with the witch to do as he pleased.

I hate this. I hate it. I hate myself. I hate her. For doing all of this to you. You don't deserve it. No one does.

He collapsed onto the floor, vision becoming glassy as he aggressively wiped away the blood his aunt smeared on his skin. His nails scraped his cheek deep which opened a fresh scar from his anguish to take it off, his blood just mingling with her own. His head pounded and his heart lurched. His face dropped the malicious facade he wore around his Death Eater comrades, and bare was the broken boy whose vulnerabilities were laid out on his sleeve like an innocent child unexposed to the evils of the world.

His legs soaked in the sticky blood that felt like a sea in his own drawing room. Continuous streams of tears fell down his face as he recalled her deathly screams that rung in each intricate crevice of his mind. He desperately crawled over to the witch he knew the past seven years. Her scarlet blood clung against his clammy, white skin and staining him forever.

He knew all this blood wouldn't wash off no matter how many times he'd shower or scrub the floor.

The tangy, copper scent that surrounded him was now a permanent odor trapped in his senses. He sat next to her stiff body, curling his arms underneath her to rest her head against his lap. A single tear dropped on her red cheek.

"I'm so sorry, Hermione," his voice cracked as he was ruined into a sob, cradling her head, her tangled and matted hair bunching in his arms and blood gushing from the deep gashes all over her head. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. Anything. Everything hurtful I said the past seven years, I'm so sorry."

He released another urgent cry as he took out his wand from his robe, shakily waving it around the worst of her wounds to keep her from bleeding out more. He dragged her body closer to him, finding a pulse to feel for, and when he did, he relished in the faintest beats against his two fingers.

If you live, let me make it up to you. For the rest of my life. I'll do anything.

I'm sorry.

Draco Malfoy