A/N: This fanfic is on Hermione's POV over Draco's death. Written in 2015.

~Clarissa

All of them say, that after a great loss, you find the strength to keep going. They say that you will be able to put down the past, and just move on. They don't even know what they're saying. They don't even have an inkling how it feels. Have they ever felt the pain, tearing away at you, your heart turning into little shards of glass, cutting away at you, deep inside?

They don't.

He's gone. Forever.

The ring in my palm is glinting, mocking me. That was all we could find of him, after the war. He sacrificed himself for me. For the world. And yet, they still don't understand. They all say: "We're here for you, Hermione. We'll get through this together."

But they don't understand. He was my everything.

He was my soul, the other half to me. He lit the fire in me, which burnt like a beacon in the darkness. He smothered it with his death, turning that ray of hope into ashes. The ashes drifted away from me, leaving me with a hollow, empty cavity that used to be a warm, beating heart.

I hate the storms, and the frozen grounds in winter. I hate the sunlight reflecting off every couple's platinum-gold wedding ring. I hate it, all of it.

All of it, everything I see reminds me of him.

I see his stormy-ice-grey eyes, his platinum blonde hair. I catch sight of that infamous smirk, plastered to his face. I breathe in that cologne he wears, and the mere scent of him can send tears rolling down my face. I hear his soft footfalls, his breathless laugh, like a softly plucked violin.

He's there, in front of me.

My darling, the only man I ever have, and ever will love.

Draco, love, I can see you.

Your last words were, "Live on for both of us. I know you're strong enough. I love you, Hermione. Don't blame yourself. Go. Save Potter." And you let go.

"Go. Forget about me."

They tortured you, in front of my eyes, and I could hear your screams echoing off the empty, gloomy halls. They tortured you into insanity, like the Longbottoms. I can't remember which of them cast the killing blow. How many times did Bellatrix cackle with maniacal laughter, relishing the chance to make her blood-traitor nephew suffer, for being with a filthy mudblood?

And then you fell gracefully, like an angel. Your body collided with the ground, the snap of bones audible. I crawled over, and your body rose in flames, burning you into cinders and embers. It was terrifyingly beautiful, the heat and light from the flames glancing off you, showing the true Malfoy grace, the true power behind you. And I couldn't help you. I deserted you, Draco. I left you when you most needed me.

"You were injured, Hermione, don't blame yourself."

Can't you see, I still do. I caused you that pain. If you weren't with me, none of this would have happened. How much agony were you in before you left this cruel world?

"I know you're strong enough."

But Draco, love, can you not see how you have left me shivering, alone, in a snowstorm? How could you not have known what your death would do to me? Do you know how you haunt me, like a vengeful spirit?

"Let go of the memory of me."

Everyday, I wake up without your steady breathing next to me. The scent of you latches onto the pillows, the blankets. I cannot even spend a day without thinking about you, and that last memory of you, holding onto me, eyes full of love and regret. I can't stop my feet from following the trail to your headstone. I look out from my front porch, and I see that sequoia tree, where underneath it, we first met.

That fateful day replays in my head. The Order betrayed us, using you as a pawn in their game of tag with the Death Eaters. They used you as bait, to lure the Dark side to them. We were sent on a suicide mission. And you knew. You sacrificed yourself, but for what? You sacrificed yourself for me, but you have killed me, all the same. I cannot live without the other half of my heart.

I am a fragment of what I was, and day-by-day, I am cracking, splintering.

"Stay together."

I am disintegrating. In to dust. Decaying.

"Hermione. Live on. Please. For both of us."

I'm sorry, Draco. I couldn't fulfill your dying wish. You were wrong. I wasn't strong enough. My blood pools around me, a cloak of red, and I can barely feel the stinging in my wrists.

"You can heal yourself! Your wand is next to you! Hermione!"

The front door bangs open. I hear Harry and Ron shouting. They must have received the note I sent to the Burrow. I feel myself being carried, but I know that it won't be long now. My eyes are unseeing, and the world is swimming around me. I wonder if I'll see you up there.

I'm sorry, darling. I was too weak.

"Live on. Please. Hermione, darling, I love you."

Draco Malfoy, love?

I love you.