[Fanfiction: Draco/Hermione] Concrete Angel
Title: Concrete Angel
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 428 words
Warnings: Character death, sexual references.
Summary: Her final journey towards freedom.
Despair. Devoid of any feeling but loss and pain, she cries. Her world is darkness, and in the darkness she loses herself completely. It is her only refuge, her only escape. He can’t find her in the darkness, in the place she has created for herself. No-one can find her there. All she has are her memories. Happy memories, turned to painful. Loving memories, turned to hate.
She remembers. The same thoughts, everyday. When he leaves her, she sinks as far into her mind as possible. He never allows her to sink when he is with her. That would be betrayal, he tells her. She remembers when she was happy, when she was free. When she was bossy know-it-all Hermione, with her hair as wild as her personality, her intellect rivalled by none. When she was bathed in the light, and knew nothing of shadows. Now she walks the path of shadows constantly. Her thoughts jump, to when it all ended. To when Harry died, and she was taken prisoner by him. She feels the pain, sharply, but this time she cannot cry. She’s beyond that now.
Draco. He insists she call him by his first name, even as he calls her his ‘Mudblood Whore’. Even when he fucks her into the mattress, when he’s making her come. He makes her come every time he uses her, makes her crave him like a drug. For like a drug he is, and every fibre of her being longs for him constantly. Bit by bit, he consumes her. Her soul is teetering precariously on the edge, the only part of her that has not completely succumbed to his presence. She’s close though, and she can’t allow him to take her like that. Hope is gone - she knows that she will never be rescued. The old world is dead, and the only person who can save her is herself.
Slowly she rises from the bed. He has not come to her today, but she knows he will. To break her, to make her his. To take her soul. She knows his ambitions, as clearly as if they were her own.
He won’t find her though. Not this time.
Walking out on to the balcony, she looks down at the 24 story drop. The wind caresses her hair as she climbs on to the railing, pausing momentarily to arrange her crimson dress. No blood would mar its beauty, he would not get the satisfaction of seeing her ruined.
She lightly steps off the railing. As she rushes towards the concrete below, she feels as if she is flying. At last, she is free. Arms reach out to embrace her, and she feels her flight slow. She sees Harry, Ron, her parents. Everyone she knew.
As her final journey ends, she feels the arms embrace her, and hears Harry’s voice in her ear.
“Welcome home, angel.”
Companion Piece: Fallen Angel
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 428 words
Warnings: Character death, sexual references.
Summary: Her final journey towards freedom.
Despair. Devoid of any feeling but loss and pain, she cries. Her world is darkness, and in the darkness she loses herself completely. It is her only refuge, her only escape. He can’t find her in the darkness, in the place she has created for herself. No-one can find her there. All she has are her memories. Happy memories, turned to painful. Loving memories, turned to hate.
She remembers. The same thoughts, everyday. When he leaves her, she sinks as far into her mind as possible. He never allows her to sink when he is with her. That would be betrayal, he tells her. She remembers when she was happy, when she was free. When she was bossy know-it-all Hermione, with her hair as wild as her personality, her intellect rivalled by none. When she was bathed in the light, and knew nothing of shadows. Now she walks the path of shadows constantly. Her thoughts jump, to when it all ended. To when Harry died, and she was taken prisoner by him. She feels the pain, sharply, but this time she cannot cry. She’s beyond that now.
Draco. He insists she call him by his first name, even as he calls her his ‘Mudblood Whore’. Even when he fucks her into the mattress, when he’s making her come. He makes her come every time he uses her, makes her crave him like a drug. For like a drug he is, and every fibre of her being longs for him constantly. Bit by bit, he consumes her. Her soul is teetering precariously on the edge, the only part of her that has not completely succumbed to his presence. She’s close though, and she can’t allow him to take her like that. Hope is gone - she knows that she will never be rescued. The old world is dead, and the only person who can save her is herself.
Slowly she rises from the bed. He has not come to her today, but she knows he will. To break her, to make her his. To take her soul. She knows his ambitions, as clearly as if they were her own.
He won’t find her though. Not this time.
Walking out on to the balcony, she looks down at the 24 story drop. The wind caresses her hair as she climbs on to the railing, pausing momentarily to arrange her crimson dress. No blood would mar its beauty, he would not get the satisfaction of seeing her ruined.
She lightly steps off the railing. As she rushes towards the concrete below, she feels as if she is flying. At last, she is free. Arms reach out to embrace her, and she feels her flight slow. She sees Harry, Ron, her parents. Everyone she knew.
As her final journey ends, she feels the arms embrace her, and hears Harry’s voice in her ear.
“Welcome home, angel.”
Companion Piece: Fallen Angel