An Epilogue for all you who do not wish to read the sequel....

Thanks for all your support and encouragement!!! You've all convinced me to write a sequel. I just hope I don't disappoint! Don't forget to tell me what you think!

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Scared of your own feelings, Malfoy?

You can't run forever!

Why are you hiding?

Just because daddy isn't here to protect you!

You're pathetic.

Faceless, emotionless, Useless.

The voices that screamed and whispered at him never went away. How is it that the proud and vain Slytherin could care so much about a virtuous Gryffindor?

Draco turned his head away from the newspaper. It was broad daylight and the voices still haunted him. In attempt of believing the illusion he set up for everybody, he spat at the Witch's Weekly; the picture of Potter and Granger. He still didn't cancel the subscription for his mother.

Harry and Hermione.

"Perfect pair." Draco muttered darkly, repeating the article heading. He shook his head vigorously; he had begun speaking to himself rather often nowadays; a very disturbing and unusual fact.

After the declaration of his mother's delicate state she'd fallen into, Draco was sure to put an end to anything that might have showed similar signs to her condition. After his father's captivity.

The Malfoy name was doing badly. Corrupted. Cruel. Vicious. Not fit.

Not the usual respected and traditional pure blood line that it once was.

Though Draco was shown anything but disrepute.

All age groups took to his liking. After his 'fling' with a Muggle Born, it opened up ideas to rather unlikely people around his age group. He reached the grand second of the Witch's Weekly poll, losing only to the Boy Hero of the wizarding world. It seemed Draco's dark aurora only captured more people. Not that they would dare approach him.

The more elder people still hung onto the ideals of tradition and his pure blood sang out to them. Wherever Draco went his trademark features were instantly recognised.

Not that he wanted it that way.

This summer was to be a relaxing summer. The one before his final year at Hogwarts.

It had been anything but relaxing.

---

Harry remembered the way they were close, the way the despicable git would hold her hand. The way she would smile apologetically whenever she caught Harry's gaze; whenever Draco's eyes hardened at Harry's smile smile, knowing it fake.

Every time Harry saw them together.

It was like a dagger plunged into his stomach; whenever and if ever he tried to move away and deny it, the dagger would move higher and higher to the ultimate destination. His heart. It was getting torn, sliced, stabbed and hacked.

Now it was worse. Now she didn't have Draco. Now he didn't have Draco. Now the knife changed into a sword.

Harry remembered before Draco came into their lives. A time where Harry didn't have him.

A time when he didn't need him.

But Harry always had her. Always. Even as friends in the very beginning, it was enough comfort.

Even friends they remained now. But now, as she absently stares at something only her eyes reveal, she is but a ghost. But a skeleton and shell; only a painful reminder of what used to be there.

Harry stared at her rocking herself, as if the cradling could ease the pain. They were only seventeen, but had undergone more traumas a person should take. Of all the dreadfulness that had passed them before, this was possibly the worst. Only Hermione, the brain of their Dream Team, was… sick. It wasn't anything physical. It was in the mind.

She tried to cover it, tried to convince us we were worrying about nothing. When she thought we weren't looking she withdrawed back to herself. She went somewhere unreachable. Harry went to sit beside her and offered her a smile that used to comfort her whenever and wherever. A smile that never failed.

Until now.

Harry closed his eyes to get rid of the horrible sight. Images of Hermione's reaction flashed across his eyes.

.:: Flashback ::.

"WHAT?" Hermione exploded. Her calm reserve melted away.

"Draco's gone home." Harry repeated.

"AND YOU JUST LET HIM?" Harry didn't like this new side of Hermione.

"He… admitted a few things…" Harry shifted uncomfortably.

He just had to tell her in front of the other Gryffindors in their common room.

"What does he think he's doing?" Hermione asked no one in particular.

"He gone-" Harry began to repeat,

"I KNOW… Draco's gone home." Hermione snapped through gritted teeth. "I need to talk to him."

"You can't." Harry informed her weakly.

"I bloody well can!" Hermione argued defiantly, "I'll march right back to Malfoy Manor and demand to see him."

"It's unchartable. Like Hogwarts." Harry hated to admit the truth. He gently guided Hermione's hands down. The stress was straining her and she wasn't thinking properly.

"I'll find a way…" Hermione assured. "Why did he go?"

"Family business." Harry assured. He couldn't break it to her.

.:: End of Flashback ::.

And he still hadn't told her the proper reason. The reason the conceited and arrogant git admitted to him before its departure.

Harry opened his eyes and looked at Hermione. She felt his gaze on her and turned to meet it. Harry offered his arms to her, and she collapsed in them. It was a mutual comforting thing. They were both hurt. They were both victims. They both lost.

Harry heard a gentle click in the distance, the sound of a camera. He raised his head a fraction too late, only to see the back of the dark haired intruder who had 'proof' of any rumours concerning The Boy Who Lived.

Harry frowned,

"Let's go into Diagon Alley tomorrow. We'll need to get our books and everything… we'll meet up with Ron and Ginny." Harry suggested. Hermione was always worse on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Harry didn't understand why, so it was probably best to leave the shopping until Friday.

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As the carriage came to a stop, he made his way to The Three Broomsticks to further study his list, to plan which shops he would stop by; the quickest possible route.

Leaving, he loathed the way people stared at him; the way they segregated him out from the rest. Apart from the distinct eyes and hair; he knew he had an ambience that people picked up on.

He tilted his head up, further suggesting his attitude towards whoever gazed upon him and embarrassingly almost tripped over the poor girl stumbling in his path. She was dressed in rags, or what Draco believed was rags, the stench of the poor chit was unbearable. What's worse was that Draco felt sorry for it.

Her brown hair, the bushy unkemptness, and delicate hands fervently compelling people to give to her…

The way the girl, not passing the age of 8, looked him straight in the eye. Too ignorant to fear the Malfoy name; too young. Too innocent. The way she offered a genuine smile, even before he decided to bestow her anything.

When he kicked over her wooden bowl, he bent down in a show of kindness as if helping her pick up her money. The confused expression and tears welled in her eyes, knowing that it had been anything but an accident. Quickly going through his pocket, Draco digs out his change and puts it in the bowl.

No one will know better.

Draco smiled back at the girl, standing up once again. The sudden commotion he had caused only drew adverted gazes, not bothering with a mere peasant girl and her associates. The girl smiled back, biting her lip and withdrawing her tears, she watched as the kind man walked away the confused glint no longer shining in her eyes. The 500 galleons now in her keeping.

---

Harry watched as Draco kicked the bowl, making sure Hermione and Ron were distracted elsewhere. His face had burned, knowing it wasn't an accident. Pity filled him for the poor girl, only to be replaced by guilt that he couldn't go over there and help her without rousing suspicions from others; namely Hermione. And Ron.

Obsurus Books was rather full, with no more than a week until Hogwarts was due to begin, and Harry had difficulty finding his friends.

"Werr 'ere 'ou 'ary?" Ron asked as he stuffed his mouth with the liquorice wands Harry had purchased for them to share.

"Uh… about…" Harry answered vaguely, feeling uncertain about the whereabouts of Hermione. "Hermione!"

"Harry!" Hermione greeted, "We've been looking for you everywhere!"

"Yeah…" He stared her away from the direction he saw Malfoy go in. Hermione's eyes had a familiar glint in them and were looking very cheery.

"I was just talking to Mrs Paprill and she said she saw a striking young fellow walk pass her." She gestured in the way she came.

Harry gulped, hoping that her happiness was not due to Malfoy.

"Don't look so modest!" Hermione joked, fluffing his hair.

Harry realised she was talking about him.

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Next stop: Hogwarts! What will happen when they meet? I have a big surprise for you all when we arrive!!!

Mwauhahahahaa….

What do you think? (Sort of anepilogue for this fic, and a prologue for the other)

The Sequel is called 'Forgo'