Tine Bealtaine [Harry Potter]

COMPLETED: Unrequited love that is realised most acutely when faced with the possibility of death. Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy. Based on a poem I once read.

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1. Parts One To Five

 

Part One

There is a war going on

In a faraway land

As the good and the evil

Take the last stand

Hogwarts stood still.

Not a bird could be seen gracing the sky, nor a flower delighting the ground.

A distant rumble of thunder resounded across the overcast sky as the shadows twisted their way around the ruins.

In the momentary reprieve from the battle, Hermione was almost able to hear the beating of her heart against her ribcage.

The emptiness she felt was not due to the fact that she had not eaten in many hours, although the hunger and subsequent light-headedness was ever-present in her consciousness.

She lifted her arm absent-mindedly to wipe away a trickle of blood that had escaped from the cut above her brow.

She saw bodies – no, not bodies. They were people. They were still human beings. People that she loved; had shared her good fortune and good times with. People she now was sharing the less than good times with as she saw them being lifted onto stretchers and covered with white sheets.

She could also see a pale man with a pointed face. He scurried out of sight, not wishing to be seen.

She was quick to blame him, as she was quick to blame all those people. But really, it was all of them that did this.

Part Two

The evil have dark forces

To fight for their cause

But the good have the power

Of the last ancient sword

The flash of silver hissed as it hit and sliced through flesh. Scarlet, venous blood spurted as he felt the drops of warmth hit the skin of his hand, so close had he been to the event.

Nagini's head had sailed through the air with a majestic quality before hitting the ground with a thud of victory.

The boy started down at the skin that covered the back of his hand, crimson creating a stark contrast against the smooth alabaster.

He envied the way in which they fought together. As one, for the greater good.

Part Three

As the dark forces march

Straight out of hell

Will they crush the good?

Only time will tell

He heard the most terrible screams. It made him feel the intense pain that they were feeling. It was not the kind of pain that could be ignored. It demanded your attention at all times and ripped out your innards for display before you.

He looked over at the girl with brown eyes. Instead of blinking back tears, as many of the others were doing, she adopted a fierce expression. He had seen it once before, and that was in the moments before her fist had contacted his face. The area of his face containing his nose tingled at the mere thought of the memory.

The screaming had stopped and the pungent smell of singed hair and clothes was more pronounced than ever. The crowds were moving. He felt an elbow hit the small of his back as he was pushed across the yard and up the stone stairs, into the great hall.

His silvery eyes darted around madly in an attempt to find her. Fortunately he was able to find her within moments. Her wild hair was flicking out around her as she slashed and twirled her wand through the air. She was battling Aunt Bellatrix with the help of several others, and it was then that he truly feared for her life.

Sending a few spells in his aunt's direction, he was able to throw her off balance for a few moments, allowing the others to gain the upper hand.

He stood, mesmerised for a few seconds by the sheer power emanating from her. His Hermione.

He had long admitted his teasing and prodding of her was a way in which to gain her attention. He had also long admitted his feelings for her to himself.

He re-joined the battle, but it was mostly out of self-defence. His heart was no longer in it, it was with her.

Part Four

Or will good triumph evil

As they take up this fight?

Will light cut through darkness

Like a candle at night?

"No!" Mrs Weasley cried, as a few students ran forwards, trying to come to her aid, "Get back! Get back! She is mine!"

Hermione watched on as Molly duelled Bellatrix with a passion that could only come from a mother.

She tore her eyes away for a few moments to survey the damage inflicted by the fighters.

Chocolate eyes locked into place with silver eyes. Hermione could not quite understand the feeling of relief that was now present in her body.

Was it relief that she was still alive and fighting? Or was it relief that he was still alive?

She reluctantly tore her gaze away from him. She attempted to turn her attention away from him as well, however, she found that she was unable to.

It had been months since she had last seen him properly and she had to make sure that he was alright.

She dreaded to think of the punishment he and his family would have received after her escape from the manor.

Although he appeared more pale than ever, his eyes sill had determination, and she assuaged her apprehension with the knowledge that he was still fighting.

Part Five

So who will join you

As you take the last stand?

You must decide soon

For the world's in your hand

For one last time, their eyes let cross the crowd of people in the Great Hall. The battle was so close to having ended.

More blood had been spilled on the stone floor than ever before. Similar to Draco and Hermione, the other participants of the battle were lined up against the wall.

Whilst staring into the silvery depths, Hermione wondered whether things could have been different. Would they have stood a chance?

Did they still have that chance now?

Draco broke the gaze. He could not stand it knowing that he could never have her.

He had hurt her too deeply and for too long. It would not be fair to even contemplate what they would be like if things had been different.

As the brilliant white sunlight flooded the room and the battle was won, Draco turned his back to them. He pushed his way past all those trying to get to The Boy Who Lived and crept out of the Hall, unseen.

It was time to move on.

The above is based on a poem (the stanzas are the italics at the beginning of each 'part'). It is called Good v Evil, by a person on the internet known as 'darkcard', so thank you very much to this person. If you ever have an issue with me using this poem, let me know, otherwise, i love your work :)

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