I can’t do this, Sam.
I know. It’s all wrong. By rights we shouldn’t even be here. But we are. It’s like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger, they were. And sometimes you didn’t want to know the end. Because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it’s only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you. That meant something, even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand. I know now. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn’t. They kept going. Because they were holding on to something.
What are we holding onto, Sam?
That there’s some good in this world, Mr. Frodo… and it’s worth fighting for.
"Have you noticed anything different about Malfoy this year?" Harry asked Ron, his voice barely above a whisper. "He’s been acting different, hasn’t he?"
“Are you still on that, mate?” Ron answered, looking around the crowded classroom for Hermione. “Hermione says he isn’t a Death Eater and I reckon she’s the smartest between us.”
Harry shook his head absently, his mind dancing with thought.
“No… that’s not what I meant…” his voice trailing off when Hermione slid into the chair next to him with a broad smile. He forced his thoughts onto Transfiguration, refusing to fixate on the fact that Draco had entered only a few meters behind her.
“What happened”? Potter asked. Draco leaned back against the chair and shut his eyes. He wasn’t the type to talk about this but for some reason he found himself speaking. “I noticed her that day” he said. He didn’t open his eyes, didnt want to see Potter’s expression. “That’s all? You just noticed her”? A part of Draco snapped. “I didn’t bloody well fall in love with her”! He shouted and opened his eyes. He could see that day in the woods so clearly, as if it were yesterday. She had been leaning against the side of an old tree. Her hair held many droplets of snow. Her cheeks had been red from the chill. He remembered because she was the first person he had seen. In his spot, where he went to hide. The memory tasted bittersweet on Draco’s tongue. He could even remember that Granger was reading a book. A small smile flickered across his lips at the image. There had been something different that day. He recalled that he blamed it on the snow. Because for just one small instance Draco had stood completely breathless at the Gryffindor girl. Her defenses had been down while reading and her lips had been parted. He could almost see her mouth moving along with the words. He noticed her. Nothing more and honestly Draco could remember that he had ridden off that moment soon after. But now he could see that it had been the start of something and he never looked at the snowfall the same way again. Then he remembered Potter sat beside him. His eyes flickered to the boy. “I didn’t love her then, Potter. I didnt know what love was. But she helped…she helped without even knowing it that day”.
Dramione AU: Forgiveness, Part II [Seventh Year] - He expels the demons from his mind and plots them out for her in the form of precious silver, as redemption begins to run parallel to the violent thrum of his heart.
Hermione stares at the glass snugged in the crook of her thumb and she wraps her fingers around it, guiltily transfixed as she weighs its contents with a hesitant hand. It takes her a moment to meet the storm of his eyes and when she does, she doesn’t expect him to look so calm.