6th year going on 7th
A/N: My muse, Maggie, is simple girl. All she likes are plot bunnies and reviews. So be kind to Maggie and feed her review cookies please.
Big thanks to my beta Lbandoly for her hard work. She has spent countless hours editing and providing plot help for my stories. She makes my writing possible.
No copyright infringement intended. All characters are the property of JKR, Scholastic, and any number of other companies with more money than I've ever dreamed of seeing. I didn't make any money off of this, so please don't sue.
DG DG DG DG DG DG DG DG DG
She cried the day her sixth year ended. It wasn't herself she was crying for, well at least not completely. No she was crying for him. He was walking out of his safety net for good into the snake's den. It wasn't like she didn't know all along that a time would come when he would have to go to join them. She had just hoped that it wouldn't. Vigilantly she had hoped and prayed to any and every deity for him to turn his back on to the master that had marked him in favor of being with her.
Truthfully they should never have come to care for one another, but they had and now, now he had done the one thing she had hoped he could gather the courage to not do. A pipe dream from the beginning that was, but she had hoped for it none the less.
She had watched from platform 9 and ¾'s as his back moved farther and farther away from her. Silent tears of morning slipped down her cheeks. She knew the end when she saw it; the next time she would lay eyes on Draco Malfoy would be to aim a curse at him or to pronounce him dead as a healer on a battle field somewhere.
Instead she turned in the opposite direction, following her mother, Tonks, Mad Eye Moody, and the Trio to Grimwald Place to train to help in the war as a healer. Off to a life where she wouldn't return to school for her seventh year, a life where Hogwarts was a battle ground, a life where her heart would be writing her tragedy among dead bodies and broken dreams.
Nothing could change the fact that he had chosen the Death Eaters over her and the safety the Order could provide if he
had just gotten over his own vain pride and ask for it. Instead he was leaving her for `them' with the potential
for her to have to fight him if it came to it.
She couldn't help but wonder if she had tried just a little bit harder or a bit sooner if she couldn't have saved them from their fate as enemies divided by battle lines; if she could have saved him.
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