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after-witch · 1 year ago

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The Driven Snow [Yandere Coriolanus Snow x Reader]

Title: The Driven Snow [Yandere Coriolanus Snow x Reader]

Synopsis: You're a District 2 school graduate who comes to the Capitol with her father before the 11th Hunger Games. You don't expect to meet anyone kind, especially not someone named Coriolanus Snow who offers you his arm, his smile, and treats in secret.

Word Count: 5270

notes: yandere, abusive relationship, non-graphic descriptions of torture and death (not against reader); uses a mixture of book and movie canon

The Capitol was not as dazzling as your father described it but then, he had seen it before the war. Though perhaps it was your own bitterness that made you ignore the signs of returning prosperity that sets it above everywhere else.

The repaired elaborate buildings, the fresh pungent smell of plaster and paint. The cars pumping exhaust fumes into the air. The low rumble of garbage trucks that pick up bright green garbage cans, some of which are actually teeming with plastic trash bags. Such waste was unheard of, even in the oh-so-loyal District 2, where only the lowest of the low find themselves starving.

Although not-starving didn’t mean that everything was plentiful.

You, though, were lucky enough to avoid the lima bean heavy diet that some of your classmates (now former--graduation was months ago) lived on. Or were you? The meat that graced your family’s dinner table, the pats of butter on toast, were all courtesy of your father’s immense talent in building creative weapons that allowed the Capitol to stamp out every last bit of rebellion in the Districts. That allowed them to regain control. That allowed them to create the Hunger Games.

Which is why you were in the Capitol now. Oh, not to participate in them. Your father’s status in District 2 had seen to that; it would be a scandal if the name of his beloved daughter were to ever be pulled.

You were there because your father had been given a lucrative contract, one that was sure to cement your family’s wealth for generations: a contract to build high-tech weapons for the Hunger Games themselves.

They would still be killing. But on a much smaller scale, you supposed, than the weapons your father designed during the war.

Still. Blood was blood. And if it had to be spilled, well, there was nothing you could do about it except hope they died quickly. Especially the ones from District 2.

Last year’s Games’ had been awful enough. Your family had watched the Games on a modest television set in the privacy of your living room, sent courtesy of the Capitol.

You wondered if you would ever get the sight of Marcus’ battered, bloated face from your mind; if you would ever unhear the way his body thumped to the ground when that girl had killed him, out of mercy. If you would ever stop imagining what it must have felt like in those last moments.

But it wasn’t all horror. You’d liked Lucy Gray well enough, even though she was from 12. She had a wild way of dressing and the singing--it was practically theatrical, compared to what you’d heard about the previous games.

Maybe that was why your father got this contract: theatrics. Maybe the games would be more dramatic from now on. Maybe they wanted tributes like Lucy Gray, who sang and spit and poisoned her way to Victory. It was strange, really, that there’d been hardly any talk of her since her win.

“Father?” You asked, quietly as you could.

Both of you were standing in the foyer of the grand university in the Capitol. The outside was still a little ravaged, but inside, it was perfectly lovely. Walls lined with books--perhaps some of them were fake--and marble floors and marble busts dotting the sight lines.

“Mm?” He replied, eyes scanning over his clipboard. He flips it, here and there.

“I was just thinking. About last year’s games. About Lucy Gray, and how the Games--”

Your father rounded on you, eyes suddenly serious and blazing.

“Quiet. Weren’t you paying attention on the way here?” Admittedly, you were not. You’d been daydreaming about what you might do now that you were done with school. There was no university in District 2, and your father hadn’t even mentioned a job. “You’re not supposed to mention--”

“Not supposed to mention whom? Ah, ah, ah. Lucy Gray Baird?” called a voice, almost in sing-song.

Your father stood up stiff, and the life seemed to drain from his face.

Both of you look towards the sound of the voice, and now it’s your turn to stiffen. The voice came from a woman standing in the doorway of the very office that your father was waiting to enter. She was wearing an elaborate jacket made of what looked like rainbow snake scales. Her hair was gray and curly. She had, you realized, two different colored eyes.

Your father swallowed, and you could see the apple of it bob up and down. It made you think, abruptly, of suckling pigs.

“Dr. Gaul,” he said, in a voice far too tight to be relaxed. “I apologize for my daughter’s insubordination, I assure you, she meant no--”

Dr. Gaul waved her hands at him and approached you.

“Did you like last year’s games?” She didn’t look angry. No, she looked delighted.

“I…” It was your turn to swallow, your turn to feel that tightness. “It-it was the first time I’ve watched them, ma’am.” You want to ask this woman: do you think I liked watching someone from my District 2 so horribly? Or any District, really? Did I like it?

Her smile grew wider.

“I’m glad. You’ll be watching them every year from now on, I hope. We have big plans.” Her eyebrows raised high. “Big changes. Thanks to men like your father.” She glanced at him and you saw disdain flicker across her gaze.

And then another door opened, and you heard the sound of polished shoes on the marble floor. Dr. Gaul’s attention dropped away from you like you were nothing at all. She turned to meet the sound of these footsteps, and you did too.

It was a young man. Probably your age, you thought, with light blonde hair and eyes that your mother would have described as “baby blue.” He didn’t look at you, or your father. But that was nothing new. You’d only been in the Capitol for 2 days, and you’d already gotten used to being treated as lesser than. Though, at least, you were not so far down on the food chain that you lost your tongue.

“Ah, my protege,” said Dr. Gaul, giving the young man a grin. The smile on her face almost looked warm, which was somehow far more terrifying than her manic smile from earlier. “Ever the earnest student. Aren’t you supposed to be enjoying the day off, Mr. Snow?”

The young man, this “Snow,” chuckled and lowered his gaze. “I couldn’t stay away once I heard you were discussing some of the new prototypes for this year’s games.”

He finally looked at your father, and then at you. But only briefly.

“Can I assume that this is…?”

Dr. Gaul nodded.

“Yes. My little designer from District 2. And his daughter.” Her voice dropped a few octaves when she referred to you. She probably didn’t want you here, you thought. You weren’t supposed to come, but your father had begged the Capitol for a pass; it would probably be your only chance to see it, he said, so you may as well take advantage of the chance.

Snow nodded to your father. It was a surprising gesture, almost respectful. But cold, too, like it was done from necessity rather than anything else.

Your father stammered a bit and nodded back, and you felt shame begin to creep into your bones. It wasn’t fair, to be lesser-than. But weren’t others lesser-than you in your own District, where you ate better food and never worried that your name would get picked, that your blood would be spilled?

Everyone

But when Snow turned to you, he smiled. It gave him dimples.

It was the first kind smile anyone in the Capitol gave you.

“My name is Coriolanus Snow. I doubt you’ve heard of me, but if Dr. Gaul’s teachings have anything to say about it, perhaps one day you’ll know me as a Gamemaker.”

You didn’t know what to say. Congratulations, one day you’ll be coordinating Games that kill people? Instead, you gave your name, voice squeakier than you meant it. But it was fitting, you supposed. Here, you were a mouse, hoping you would get a bite of cheese and make it home unpoisoned.

Dr. Gaul’s face seemed to react slowly, as if she couldn’t decide what she thought about his words or your interaction, but a small smile grew on it, eventually. “I do have high hopes for you, Mr. Snow. Now, shall we?”

She gestured for your father to follow, face once again impassive with a sprinkle of disdain, as she led the two of them into her office.

Snow gave you a smile and a nod before he left.

You waved, stupidly.

Your father didn’t even look back.

I’m dead. I’m dead. I might as well be dead.

Your heartbeat kept time with your racing thoughts as you went up and down corridors, begging your shoes to be silent, wishing your breath would catch and stop coming out in terrible pants.

You were lost. You weren’t where you were supposed to be. If someone found you, if the wrong person found you, they would think you were running, trying to get lost in the Capitol; they’d think you were a rebel. They’d shoot you.

Just when you thought you might collapse and die from your own nervous exhaustion, you heard the most wonderful sound in the world.

Your name.

It was only the moment after that you realized it didn’t come from your father’s mouth, but the lips of--what his name--Coriolanus Snow. The young man who was a Gamemaker-in-training, or so your father said. But that’s all he would say. He kept tight about anything that went on behind closed doors.

But this Coriolanus Snow smiled at you, and didn’t look at you like you were some kind of insect he might want to pin on a board, and so when you whirled around to look at him you were smiling.

Ah--for a moment. For just a moment, you saw his muscles tense. You saw the expression on his face falter in worry. Like he thought he was about to miss a step on a staircase, and corrected himself; like he thought you were a wolf and you were only somebody’s dog, off their leash.

But it wasn’t too surprising. You knew most people in the Capitol thought anyone from the Districts wanted to rip out their throats.

Well, the worry was mutual. Except in your case, you were forced to walk around with the living proof of that worry--all those “Avoxes,” they called them. Without tongues, without freedom.

But you swallow all that. Because he smiled at you. Because maybe it wouldn’t hurt to make a friend. Especially right now.

“I’m--I’m lost,” you tell him, giving a shaky smile. “I was waiting for my father, but you see, I got to thinking, and I started to wander around and now I’m… well. I don’t know where I am, actually.”

His smile wasn’t very deep, was it? It was like the gloss of paint on the outside of the Capitol buildings. Pretty to look at, but there must be more underneath.

You expected him to lead you right back to where you’re supposed to be.

Instead, he asked you something.

“What were you thinking about?

You couldn’t tell him. Could you? But something about

“About… the Games.”

You don’t tell him that you were thinking about Lucy Gray and all those snakes, and the way that Dr. Gaul’s outfit that first day made you think of them. Because your father had slapped you across the face when you got back to your lodgings that night, and told you to never, ever bring up Lucy Gray Baird or the 10th Games unless you were directly asked. And you would probably never be asked.

Coriolanus gave a little snort through his nose. You liked it. It was nice to know that even Capitol people could seem a little dorky.

“They aren’t for another 3 months. Are you that eager to see them?”

You didn’t know what expression you made, exactly. It was so instinctive and fast that you didn’t have time to control it.

You only knew that it made him shake his head and offer you a sympathetic look.

“I apologize. That was rude, wasn’t it?”

And then he did a strange thing.

He offered you his arm.

Like you were Capitol, like you were a real person, and not some visiting District wench walking on the coattails of her arms-dealing father.

“Let me walk you back to the waiting area.”

And the stranger thing?

You took it.

You and your father were quickly moved into a small apartment within the university, once it became clear that he would be staying in the Capitol through the duration of the Games. It was best, he said, because ordinary people in the Capitol didn’t really want to see new faces from the Districts mingling around unless their tongue had been cut out first. It made them nervous. The rebel bombings, and all that.

You didn’t mind, because it meant you didn’t have to be flanked by Peacekeepers on the streets.

And, well.

You got to see Coriolanus more often. Sometimes he greeted you, sometimes he didn’t. He did it less often when Dr. Gaul was there, unless she was talking to your father and it gave him an opportunity.

He asked you things, too, when he caught you walking back to your father’s little apartment. Like what you did back home. What you liked to do. Whether you went to school, and what you planned to do now that you have graduated.

This morning, he caught you drawing while you waited in a chair outside Dr. Gaul’s office. Sometimes you waited there--you would admit to no one that it was to catch a glimpse of the kindest person you’d met in the Capitol--and other times you stayed in your temporary home.

“What are you drawing?” He asked. But he had a way of speaking that you’d quickly clocked into. He can make a demand sound like a polite little question. Oh, he wasn’t mean about it, but it reminded you of the way your father talked to his underlings back in District 2. On his home turf, he was far smoother than he was here, where his voice stammered and sweat beaded on his neck.

So you handed it over, even though, to your greatest embarrassment, you’d drawn… him.

“Why me?” He had a smile on his lips. His smiles were nice. Kind. The kindest you’d seen since you came here. But they always felt like that fresh coat of paint; like you didn’t know what he really meant by them, and that was how he liked it.

“You’re… important,” is all you could come up with. You felt small, then. He would dismiss and probably never want to talk to you again. What a stupid answer from a stupid girl.

But he just smiled. It was like paint peeling a little. You could see underneath that he liked what you said, although you weren’t exactly sure why. And his expression tightened up so quickly, protecting what you’d seen, that you weren’t entirely sure if it was real or not.

“I’m just a humble student at this university. Not so important. Not yet.”

You were really going to die, now. This wasn’t some panicked imagination gone wrong, some flight of fancy that took a wrong turn.

A pair of stony-faced Peacekeepers had walked up to where you sat in the waiting area near Dr. Gaul’s office and ordered you to come with them.

You asked to talk to your father. They said no. You asked where you were going. They yanked you up.

And now they were leading you down hallways that you’d never seen before, where there weren’t even Avoxes roaming the halls with brooms and dustpans.

They didn’t even answer, just spun around and walked back the way they came. You pushed the door open reluctantly--what the hell was going to be on the other side?--and it was--it was--

It was Coriolanus. Standing there in a nice suit, eyes downcast on a book. Until the door creaked and he looked up.

“What--why did you bring me here? Did I do something wrong?” The thought went through you, that perhaps this had all been a test, to see if you were loyal to the Capitol and he’d found you wanting.

“No,” he said, simply enough. He set the book down and gestured for you to step inside. You did, because what else were you going to do, in some strange room in a Capitol University where you’d been forcibly brought by Peacekeepers.

Snow studied your face. Your eyes darted around, from him, to the room, to the door.

“I wanted to see you,” he said, a little softer. “In private.”

“Me?” You furrowed your eyebrows. “But… why?”

He smiled. “Come now, you’re a smart girl, even if you aren’t in university.”

You really didn’t know. Not at first. But then you watched the way his expression softened, and you remembered it, or glimpses of it, that he’d given you before. When he complimented your drawing. When he said your name. When he escorted you back from the maze of hallways. And his smiles, all his smiles, although you were never sure how much they meant coming from home.

He took a step closer. You didn’t dare step back. You weren’t sure if you wanted to step back, but it didn’t matter, either way.

He pressed his lips to yours and took your first kiss, in a secluded little study in the heart of the Capitol University.

Your days became routine, although the routine was strictly forbidden and could have probably gotten you executed or at best, gotten you a one-way ticket to a tasteless existence.

You wake up. You stay in your apartment. You wait for the Peacekeepers. You get summoned here and there, always private rooms, secret rooms, rooms out of the way. You meet Snow--Coriolanus, he said, call him that--and you talk (well, mostly him) and kiss and sometimes a little bit more. He gives you gifts. Trinkets, necklaces that you can only wear under your shirt. Food, flaky pastries made with mountains of sugar, sandwiches made with cream and cucumber.

But how much longer could it go on? The Games were going to start soon. As soon as they were over, you were going back to your District. There would be no more meetings, no more kisses. No more wondering how far he wanted to go or why he liked you or even if he even liked you as anything more than someone to keep him busy.

You didn’t dare talk about the Games, but you did talk about this. In the kindest way you knew how for such a sensitive subject.

“I’ll miss you,” you told Coriolanus after one meeting, when you’re both sitting on a sofa and he’s got your fingers tightly wound in his. He squeezed them tight.

“Miss me?”

“After the Games,” you clarified. “We’re being sent home right after.”

He squeezed your fingers until it hurt a little. Then he looked up at you. To see if you would say something? Or did he not know how strong he was?

“Oh, that. I can arrange for you to stay.”

Your chest began to feel sick.

“Stay? In the Capitol?” You were torn about Coriolanus, but you didn’t want to stay here. You couldn’t.

“Yes,” he said, as if it was the simplest answer in the world. “You wouldn’t be the first person from the District granted such an extreme privilege. I’m sure I could--”

“But I don’t know if I want to stay.”

His gaze narrowed and you felt your stomach clench. He looked at the necklace you’d pulled out as soon as the door was shut, at your lips where a dollop of strawberry cream still rested.

“I treat you so well, and you don’t know if you want to stay with me?”

His voice was calm, and that scared you. It would have been better if he flew off the handle.

Instead, he simply stood up and gently sent you out the door, and called the Peacekeepers to bring you back to your apartment.

Every night for the last week, you have cried yourself to sleep. Because every day for the last week, Coriolanus Snow has not sent for you. Not even once.

What if he told someone? What if you got sent back early, and your father was shamed? What if they broke his contract? Or--worse, worse, worse. There were so many worse things than merely being sent back to District 2.

And then he sent for you, and it was the longest walk of your life, though it was no farther than any of the times you’ve been escorted to your secret meetings.

This time, when you pushed open the door, Coriolanus was not alone.

There was an Avox in the room.

It was someone from District 2.

You didn’t know her. Not personally. But you saw her, before. She worked in one of the munitions factories and you watched her walk to work from your classroom window sometimes. Then she stopped showing up, and you thought perhaps she got married.

That delusion was shattered the moment you saw her, eyes downcast to the floor, wearing a simple gray tunic.

It’s not until Coriolanus tells you to hurry up and come in that you’re able to move. Even then, you weren’t sure how your body did it; how your arms managed to gain the mobility to shut the door, to twist the lock; how your legs moved, one foot in front of the other, until you were standing stiffly in front of him.

The Avox--you wish you knew her name, but she couldn’t give it to you now, even if you asked--moved seamlessly to a table set up nearby. There was tea and sweets. The sort of thing that you and Coriolanus had been enjoying together for the past few weeks. The sort of thing that you were sure would sit sour in your stomach, now.

The cup shook in your hands when she handed it to you, and your tears dripped right into the tea.

Coriolanus glanced at the Avox and waved his hand. She left obediently. She would never tell the secret she witnessed in his room, that much was certain.

And then he looked back at you.

“Don’t cry,” he said. Soft but firm. A command, not a coo. “You shouldn’t cry here, in the Capitol. You should be grateful to be here. You should be grateful that I’ve arranged all this for you.”

“I am,” you whispered.

“Then show me that you are.”

And you did.

You said what he wanted and looked to him to show you how he wanted you to act, and did just that. You didn’t argue, even to lightly banter. You kissed him and nodded along when he told you about how things would be after the Games, when he had arranged for you to stay.

All you had to do was keep him happy until the Games were over, and then you could go home.

Bitterly, all of this made you realize just how much of your father is in you; he knew how to appease the Capitol. You could do the same with Coriolanus Snow. At least until the Games were over. Just keep him happy until the Games were done and the blood was spilled, and you would go home.

They wouldn’t let him keep you here after the games. You were sure of that. You’d overheard some of Dr. Gaul’s assistants murmuring how glad they would be to send the District profiteers like your father home once the Games were over. And you? You’re just his useless daughter, an appendage he brought like an unwelcome suitcase. Why would you be allowed to stay?

The Games were over. The winner was from District 1.

You were going home any day now. Just as soon as your father finished tinkering with the designs, gave his notes on improvements that might be made for next year.

The thought gave you a delightful bounce in your step. It was like having a pat of sweet butter in your shoe on a day when you needed good luck-- District 2 superstition, although the strict rationing meant most people didn’t have even a pat to slip into their shoes anymore.

The sweetness didn’t even disappear when the Peacekeepers showed up to bring you to Snow. It was going to be a bittersweet farewell, you were sure. He might be angry. But you would kiss him and tell him that there was nothing he could do, and how sorry you were not to be able to stay, but that was how things had to be.

Except they didn’t bring you down a maze of corridors that led to a secluded room.

They brought you right into Dr. Gaul’s office.

Breakfast threatened to evacuate your stomach with every step. Not just because of nerves, but because of what you saw. Rows of experiments in glass tubes; some of them move. You walk by a room with a half-open door that showed someone strapped to a gurney, face contorted in a silent scream as they fought against restraints. You almost did lose breakfast, then.

But somehow you made it to the desk of Dr. Gaul without a dribble of vomit to show for it.

The Peacekeepers left with no fanfare and you stood there, ramrod straight. Did she know? Was she going to tell you that you were going to be strapped to one of those gurneys, now?

“I’m keenly aware,” she said, keeping her hands primly folded, “on how much you’ve enthralled my star pupil.”

Toast. That’s what will come up first, you thought . The toast.

“I don’t know what you mean, ma’am.” Your voice was so thin and tinny that you didn’t even believe yourself.

And then the prim facade cracked, and Dr. Gaul threw her head back and grinned.

“You really think I don’t know everything that goes on within these walls? I know every time one of my lab assistants runs into the bathroom to throw up after a particularly nasty experiment. I know every time one of our university professors sneaks into a closet to down a vial of morphling with a student. And I certainly know when my newest protege is having an adorable little District girl brought to him for… canoodling.”

You weren’t even embarrassed. No. You just felt terrified to the bone. You only hoped that you’d be killed, shot against a wall, instead of made into an Avox. Let there be some mercy in this world.

”He’s asked to keep you, you know.” Her voice was low, almost a drawl. She tapped her fingers on her desk rhythmically.

“My Coriolanus Snow wants a bird of his own.” Her smile turned darker. “Not a songbird, though. Oh, no. I think he’s had enough of those.”

Her gaze bored into yours, each color magnified by her intense expression. “I think if I let him have his pretty caged bird, he’ll be happy. He’s more productive if he’s happy.” She smiled. “I like productivity. It keeps the Games more interesting.”

She looked you over one more time, and then waved you away.

“I’ve granted his request. You’ll be staying here indefinitely, courtesy of one Mr. Snow. Your father has already been told.”

You were wrong.

It was not the toast that came up first, but the sweet butter you’d patted on top.

You still had your tongue, but you felt as though it was useless, stuck to the roof of your mouth, as Coriolanus fussed over your outfit. Or rather, as he directed an Avox to fuss over it for you. He could afford his own personal servant, now, he told you. He’d almost flinched after he said now, and you didn’t dare press him on it. Had he not been able to afford one before?

“We can’t walk arm-in-arm in public,” he said, walking around you, making sure the outfit was just-right. “But you can stand by me if I stop and direct you forward.” He reached over and fixed one of your buttons. “Don’t speak to anyone unless I’ve told you to, or they speak to you first. Always address someone older as ‘sir,’ or ‘ma’am.” He pointed at your hair, and the Avox began to fuss with it, eventually covering it in a colorful wrap that Coriolanus said was popular right now. “Address someone our age by the last name and Mr. or Ms.”

When he was satisfied with your appearance, he sent the Avox away. You liked it better that way, it was one last reminder of the horrors in the Capitol, even for someone “privileged” like you. You’d only been without your father for 3 days, but you felt like your nerves were continually on fire. You wanted to go home. You wanted your family. You wanted out of this place.

But that wasn’t going to happen.

For now, you were still living in the small university apartment the Capitol had given your father. Coriolanus insisted on it, until he could figure out how to move you into his own sprawling apartment that he shared with his cousin, Tigris (who, at least, genuinely sounded lovely) and his grandmother, Grandma’am. She was the sticking point, or so you were told, with a thin smile. She hated Districts, and she ought to, he said. They killed her son. His father.

She would hate you, too. Even if Coriolanus wanted you enough to make you stay with him; wanted you enough to keep you. But for how long? And would he change his mind, if you couldn’t fit in?

He said your name, and you snapped yourself out of your thoughts. He held you by your shoulders. Gently. Like one would an unruly child that hadn’t yet learned that there were such things as salad forks and dinner forks, as polite conversation and etiquette.

You got the feeling you wouldn’t have long to learn all of those things and more, to make him happy.

“Remember,” he said. “You’re District. You’re here because the Capitol has recognized that your loyalty can benefit us in some way. Be grateful.”

“I am,” you said, reflectively.

“Be happy..”

“I am,” you said again, your chest hitching.

He smiled at you. Was it real or not real?

You smiled back, regardless. And he liked that, evidently, because he leaned forward and kissed you. Then he scrutinized your face and wiped at your lips with his thumb--the kiss had smeared your lipstick.

“Good.”

He gestured towards the open doorway. This time, he didn’t take your arm. There would be too many people lingering in the university hallways, all making their way to the soiree held to celebrate the end of this year’s Games and discuss what improvements might be made for the next year.

You dutifully walked behind him, just like he said. And you would do exactly what he said in all respects. You would stay quiet unless you were spoken to, you would certainly never bring up anything confrontational or controversial, and you would make a good impression. You would be a loyal, grateful District citizen who was given the opportunity of a lifetime thanks to the graciousness of Coriolanus Snow.

Of course you would.

Your life depended on it.

#yandere coriolanus snow #yandere hunger games #yandere #yandere x reader #afterwitch writes #/slaps trunk #this baby can fit so many references to the books & movie in it.#... well not SO MANY #but enough

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multifandom-03 · 8 months ago

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Like Romeo and Juliet

Word Count: 5270 | Pair: Draco Malfoy x OC | Genre: Angst, sad/bittersweet ending

Warning: Mentions of suicide, pregnancy loss, major characters death

Summary: Their love was forbidden, and a bittersweet ending they had...

A/N: You might have seen this special one-shot either on Wattpad or Inkitt website - I wrote this when I was young, and this was most readers' favourite. So if you see this familiar one-shot - yes, I was the one who wrote it hehe. I'm not going to say my username from Wattpad cuz not gonna lie...I'm a bit shy and embarrassed about what I wrote when I was young haha. But this specific one-shot has a special place in my heart and I wanted to share it here on the Tumblr site~

"Their lives were taken away, just like that dreadful story: Romeo and Juliet." - Lord Voldemort

In the beginning, he was a Slytherin, and she was a Gryffindor. His house hated hers, hers hating his. The houses were sworn enemies, and if either one spoke to the other, there would be chaos. But they wanted to communicate with each other. Their friends and family told them not to, but they did.

And a sad fate they met.

It was during their Fourth Year at the Yule Ball did they met for the very first time.

They had never seen one another during their time at Hogwarts, so they were amazed and curious when they saw one another for the first time.

Draco Malfoy was loitering around the buffet of the bowl, trying to hide from his date who happened to be Pansy Parkinson. He thought having Pansy as a date would be fine; oh how wrong he was…

He was bored. And he hated the attention Harry Potter was getting. Just because he was The Boy Who Lived and got chosen by that stupid goblet…

Coming up with a decision, he went to make his leave back to the Common Room when he saw her. The most beautiful, breathtaking girl he had ever seen.

She was across the hall from him, watching everyone with a small smile on her gorgeous face. She was wearing a beautiful light blue dress with white patterned lace from her shoulders and chest area, her dress was designed corset style for her abdomen but the dress fell loosely, almost like it had a mind of its own and was floating simply around her. (Draco was terrible with describing what she was wearing, too gobsmacked at the sight of someone so gorgeous and elegant.)

Even from such a distance, he can see her eyes shining brightly against the lights, her raven dark hair twisted into an elegant bun with ringlets surrounding her oval-like face. Maybe to some people, she wasn't the prettiest in Hogwarts, but for Draco?

He knew that she was the one.

As soon as that thought crossed his mind, their eyes connected. Grey eyes connected with warm, chocolate brown eyes. It felt like their souls were being connected - like love at first sight.

Simultaneously, they started to make their way to one another. Both yearned to talk and know one another.

Draco merely pushed and shoved his way through, the girl politely excusing people as she shuffled by. They were just a metre away from one another, hands outstretched to touch when they were both taken away at the same time; Draco was pulled away by Pansy and the girl was pulled away by Hermione Granger. Despite the sudden change, they saw who dragged whom, and they knew what they were about to have...it was forbidden.

For she was a Gryffindor, he a Slytherin.

✨✨✨

Days went by when they saw each other again. It was during a weekend when Draco saw her sitting alone at the Black Lake, reading. When no one was looking, he hurriedly made his way over to her. "Hello," he greeted from behind her.

Said girl gasped in surprise, slamming her reading book shut with a snap. She stood up and turned around, ready to yell at whoever was disturbing her reading time only for her mouth to drop open at the sight of the boy. He gave her a shy smile - something uncommon on the boy's face.

"H-Hello," she stuttered out after a few seconds of silence and just gawking at him.

"I'm Draco Malfoy," he introduced, holding a hand out to her.

"Vivienne Moore," she lightly took his hand. And without losing any eye contact, he bent slightly to press a chaste kiss to her knuckles. Her breath hitched at the intimacy of a simple greeting. "You're a Slytherin," she blurted out.

"And you're a Gryffindor," he acknowledged without any malice. "Nice to have that out of the way."

"But, people will find it strange," she murmured.

"Some might find it a truce between our houses," he gave a cheeky smirk.

"Some might find it as betrayal," she looked away from him, pulling her hand away from him.

"You're thinking about the Golden Trio," Draco realised. "That's right, you're friends with Granger."

"They're really nice when you get to know them," she insisted.

"And it's the same with me," he added, "I'm not as cruel as they say, Vivienne."

"I didn't think that at all," she whispered shyly, still not looking into his eyes. They went silent for a few more seconds.

"You looked very beautiful at the Yule Ball," Draco broke the silence. "Took my breath away, really."

"You looked very handsome that night," she quipped back, a blush coating her cheeks. If you looked closely enough, you could see Draco was starting to get pink tainting his pale cheeks as well. "What are we doing?"

"Getting to know each other," he shrugged innocently. "Maybe even fall in love." Why was he acting like this? He never acted sappy and romantic for someone. What was she doing to him?

"It's forbidden," she shook her head.

"Unless we're not caught," he could see he was going to lose her soon from her worries; he was not going to let fear get in the way of their potential love. "Come on, we don't have to tell anyone," he insisted, "It's just between us two. You're telling me you didn't feel the connection that night? That this was all a big hoax?"

"No!" she said automatically. "It was not a hoax, I felt it too." Draco sighed in relief. So he wasn't the only one that felt it. "Alright," she caved in, "But no one can know."

"No one," Draco agreed, a genuine smile crossing his face.

After that day, every evening before curfew the two would meet up in the Room of Requirement - something Vivienne showed him as top secret. There, they got to know one another without any distractions or worries and where they began to fall more in love with each other.

✨✨✨

It lasted until the Fifth Year.

When Dumbledore's Army was created.

Like a loyal Gryffindor, Vivienne attended the lessons - thus, having less quality time with Draco. The more she kept postponing their meetups, the more suspicious Draco got. It wouldn't be a surprise if she was part of the secret army, he thought one day.

But strangely, it still surprised him.

When they knocked down the wall to the Room of Requirement, Draco saw Vivienne near the front, standing in front of a little girl protectively. When they connected eyes across the room, Vivienne could see the hurt and worried look in his eyes, and he could see the look of guilt in hers. And Umbridge saw their small interaction.

"Ah, I see," her high-pitched voice drawled out in the tense room. "You didn't expect to see your secret lover here."

"Secret lover?" Vivienne's eyes went from guilt to betrayal. "You told her?"

"You and Malfoy?" Ron Weasley exclaimed in disbelief. "You're pulling our leg, aren't ya?"

"I'm sorry," Draco murmured. "I thought you were in trouble or something -"

"Well, you thought wrong," Vivienne blinked away her tears. After the small interaction, Umbridge's small army went into action. They grabbed as many Dumbledore's Army people as possible, even Vivienne - though she didn't put up much of a fight. What was worse, none of her friends looked in her direction, thinking that Vivienne had betrayed them.

Nothing was going well.

✨✨✨

Sixth Year came, and it was still the same; getting rejected by her peers and being isolated. At least Draco could tell his house to stop and never mention it. But Vivienne couldn’t. She was stuck all alone. Even though they found out the true culprit who ratted them out, they still chose to ignore Vivienne.

It didn’t help that she was an orphan as well, making her feel lonelier than ever.

Draco tried talking to her, to reconcile, to no avail. She avoided him at all costs. She was not the only one feeling depressed, though, Draco was suffering too. It was all his fault that they were in this situation; he foolishly told Umbridge about his troubles, how she always seemed to have a busy schedule. He foolishly thought that not only was she part of Dumbledore’s Army, but he also had the fear that she would grow tired of him and meet someone else. Oh, how wrong the latter was - the look of hurt and betrayal on her face will forever be imprinted in his mind.

He looked down at the cursed Dark Mark on his arm, grimacing at the sight. He shoved his sleeve down harshly so he didn’t have to look at it any more. That didn’t mean he could feel it, though.

With a heavy heart, he went back to the cabinet he was to fix when suddenly he just collapsed to the floor and cried his heart out. Sounds cowardly, I know. Not only did he lose the love of his life, but he also became something he didn’t want to be and was assigned to bring Death Eaters in and kill Dumbledore. This year just wasn’t going well for him.

“Draco?” a familiar voice called out to him. Wiping his tears away harshly, he turned around on the floor to see whether his thoughts were true. And it was; Vivienne was standing in front of him.

“Vivienne...” Oh, who knew how long it’s been since they were alone. Memories of their time together attacked his mind, along with the heavy assignment he was given. Without another word, he brought the young woman into his arms and cried. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for everything. I missed you so much, and I need you. I need you so much in my life...”

“Draco? You’re scaring me,” Vivienne pulled away to wipe his tears away gently. “What is the problem? This can’t possibly be just from our situation...”

“I-I...” he stuttered, close to having another panic attack that week. “I can’t tell you. You’ll hate me more.” He buried his face in her neck, oblivious to her eyes softening at his statement.

“I don’t hate you,” she revealed, running her hand through his messy hair. “I’m just a little disappointed, and I kind of needed some alone time is all...” She hugged the broken boy closer to her. “Draco, what’s happening? No more secrets.”

And so he told her everything - what more could he lose? It was best if she stayed away from him after this, she would be safer without him in her life…

“Let me help.” Draco was out of her arms in an instant, eyeing her as if she was crazy.

“No!” he automatically refused. “No way, I am not bringing you into this. You should stay away from me like you’ve been doing this year.”

“I’m not losing you again,” she shook her head stubbornly.

“Please,” he begged her, grabbing her by the shoulders. Shivers ran down his spine at the thought of her coming across danger. “He can’t know about you. It’s bad enough that he’s threatening my family. If he caught sight of you -”

“No,” she glared at him. “I am with you until the end. I love you, Draco.”

I love you

Oh, it’s been a while since he last heard her say those three words to him.

Draco smiled softly at her strong confession, leaning his forehead against hers, his arms circling her waist. “I love you too,” he whispered.

“We can always run away,” she suggested weakly. “Away from him, Hogwarts and their judge-filled gazes...”

"Sorry, love," he said sadly, "He'll always find me. With this mark on me, he'll know where I will go." He pressed his lips against her temple in a delicate kiss. "I'm sorry, all we can do is hope for the best."

"And then what?"

"And then..." He looked at her seriously. "And then we fight back. For our love."

✨✨✨

Hogwarts Battle...

Draco fought with his school, knocking out Death Eaters wherever he went. He was trying to find a specific someone he lost sight of.

As he entered the courtyard, he felt himself freeze up when he saw a scary-looking Death Eater fight against the person he was looking for. "Vivienne..." he breathed out. She was no longer fighting one, but two men, and easily defeated them much to Draco's surprise. Sometimes he forgot she trained for these kinds of situations.

His awe wore off though when he remembered why he was looking for her in the first place. He took her to a secret hideout outside Hogwarts before the battle happened, wanting her to stay safe. However, Vivienne ignored his pleas and joined the battle. The reason why he discerned she was no longer at the hideout was because even amongst the battle, he could recognise her voice anywhere. So he went looking for her.

"Vivienne!" he yelled enraged, marching towards her. He grabbed her arm to turn her to him. "Are you crazy? What are you doing here?"

"I came to help," she lifted her chin bravely. He shook his head, exasperated.

"You're going to get you and the little one killed -" they dodged out of the way in time to avoid a spell that was thrown at them. Vivienne turned to the person who threw the spell at them with her wand raised, only for her arm to fall when she connected her eyes with Ginny Weasley.

"Ginny!" Vivienne looked at her old friend in surprise.

"Traitor!" Ginny spat, "After all this, you're still with them?"

"Ginny, it's not like that -" Draco shoved her to the side with him when Ginny tried to throw another curse at them.

"Love, we have to go," Draco told the sad girl. "We can't change her mind. Let's go back to the hideout." Vivienne sent one last sad look to her ginger friend before the two ran away from the battleground.

As they were getting closer to the exit, Bellatrix appeared in front of them with a snap, grabbing Vivienne from Draco's hold. "No!" Draco yelled, reaching an arm out to grab her back. He reeled away when Bellatrix shoved her wand under Vivienne's chin.

"Sorry, nephew!" the crazy woman sneered. "Dark Lord's orders."

"NO!" Draco screamed, the love of his life disappearing before his eyes again.

✨✨✨

“Draco!” Lucius hissed. Everyone turned to Draco, wondering if he was to join the dark side again now that Harry was gone. Some people saw him helping them, while some still thought he was part of the dark side.

But Draco stood there, refusing to move. It was what Vivienne wanted him to do. Where was she? Where did his Aunt take her to? He had to find her as soon as he could -

“Draco!” his mother called out this time, begging. Although he wasn’t as close to his father, his mother he treasured dearly. His face unwillingly twisted to one of conflict.

“Oh, Drakey!” Bellatrix’s voice emerged. She appeared at Voldemort’s side, holding Vivienne in a headlock. Everyone gasped when they saw her struggle to get out of the crazy woman’s grasp, Draco almost choking on his breath. Despite the circumstances, he was glad to see her still alive. “You wouldn’t leave Vivienne here all alone now, would you?” That brought him to his decision.

“Let her go,” he begged, eyes tearing up. “If you let her go then I will join you.”

“NO!” Vivienne panicked, struggling more.

“Shut up!” Bellatrix hissed, jabbing her wand at her face. “Stupid orphan. Come on Draco, choose wisely!”

“Don’t,” Vivienne mouthed to him, a tear escaping her eye. “Stay there,” she said out loud.

“Vivienne -” Draco took a step forward.

“DON’T!” she screeched out desperately. “YOU DON’T BELONG ON THIS SIDE! YOU’RE NOT LIKE THEM!”

“Enough!” Voldemort hissed, growing impatient. “Kill the orphan!”

“No!” Draco yelled, “I’ll join! I’ll join!” He started making his way to them.

“Draco...” He paused midway at the seriousness in his lover’s tone. She looked him in the eyes with determination. “Don’t.” was all she uttered.

His mind and body were feeling like jelly. He wanted to stay on the good side as the two wanted, but at the same time, he wanted to protect her. Both of them.

“I’ll be fine,” she assured him weakly as if hearing his thoughts. “I love you.”

“I-I love you too.” It was the first time they publicly confessed their love for one another.

“So that’s your decision then?” Voldemort mused. “You’d rather do what she says than join me. For her safety. Or your parents.”

Draco didn’t reply. Why was doing the good thing so complicated?

“Very well then,” Voldemort sighed mockingly, pulling out his wand. Draco’s heartbeat started to accelerate from nerves. What was the Dark Lord going to do? “I am very disappointed in you, Draco Malfoy,” Voldemort twirled his wand on his hand as he slowly paced around. “First your Father disappoints me, and then you. For love. Weakness. Disgusting.” He turned his red eyes to Draco with a glare. “You’d risk not only your life but hers and your parents? You’d risk everything for a weak girl like her?”

“She is not weak!” Draco fought back. “She has the biggest heart than anyone I know. She has the heart to love someone like me!”

“Yeah, and betray us!” Ron scoffed. Draco momentarily turned his back on the bad side to glare at Ron so heatedly, that it unnerved them all.

“She didn’t!” Draco defended. “She has done nothing but support you all. You know she never ratted you out to Umbridge! All she has done was be there for me, and love me despite prejudices and my flaws...” He turned back to Voldemort, ignoring the looks of shame on Ron and some people’s faces. “This whole time while people have been isolating her, she has been helping the good side look for reinforcements from around the world. How else do you think some of these wizards from around the world came here to fight?” He threw his arms out towards some foreign wizards who willingly came to fight for justice.

Everyone was surprised when they first came, wondering how people from America, Australia, Japan, China - and so many other countries - came to Hogwarts to help the battle. They simply ignored it, thinking it was the Order or one of the professors who had connections. They never knew they all came from Vivienne who surprisingly had a way with words…

“This whole time you thought Vivienne was some traitor or weak person - well let me tell you, she is not!” He doesn’t know where or why he got this sudden confidence, but he was going to use it. Vivienne went through so much for him, he wanted to help her back. He knew the people’s opinions on her had wounded her, and he wanted to set things straight before it was too late. He loved her. He would do anything for her - even yell in the courtyard in front of everyone including the Dark Lord. “You know what else she did for me? Taught me what was right and wrong, and no way am I joining your side!”

“ENOUGH!” Voldemort yelled, infuriated. He aimed his wand at Draco who lost all confidence and was now a clear target for the wrath of the Dark Lord. “AVADA KEDAVRA-”

“NO!” Vivienne screamed, escaping Bellatrix’s grasp.

To him, everything was in slow motion like the first time they saw each other at the Yule Ball. He watched as Vivienne ran to him, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist, face pressed against his chest, her back to Voldemort. And just like that…

She was hit with the killing curse.

Her limp form slumped against him, Draco catching her immediately before it was too late. “Vivienne?” he called out shakily, his lips wobbling in an attempt trying to hold in his tears.

No response.

“Vivienne?” He shook her lightly, feeling his world shatter. “No...Vivienne!” A second later Draco lifted his head to the sky, releasing a bloodcurdling scream of pure heartbreak.

All this fighting and surviving together…a waste in the end.

“Now you see what happens,” Voldemort hissed, having already expected this scenario. “I will give you this one last chance. Or else your parents will be next.”

Everyone from Hogwarts cried along with Draco at the sight of the fallen girl. Ginny, Hermione, Ron...they all felt guilty for not believing Vivienne and for giving her a hard time. All along she was innocent. And poor Draco…

He sobbed into her hair, his hold on her form tight. She was gone. Right before his eyes. First Dumbledore, then Harry, now Vivienne and…

He rested a gentle hand on her stomach, mourning not for one, but for two people. The child he never got to see grow up…

Near them, Draco spotted an abandoned wand. A plan started to form in his mind…

“Join me, Draco Malfoy, and no harm shall come to you -”

“DRACO, NO!” Narcissa interrupted the Dark Lord for the first time, her face etched out in horror.

Draco had grabbed the fallen wand and placed it underneath his chin, still staring at the love of his life with tears pouring out of his eyes. “I love you,” he whispered to the motionless form. “I’ll see you two, soon.”

“Draco, no!”

“Malfoy!”

“Draco!” Everyone started to scream. Voldemort watched on in shock. This, he did not expect.

They couldn’t get to him; he had cast a silent shield around him and Vivienne before his parents or anyone at Hogwarts could reach them. “Get him!” Narcissa cried to her husband.

“I-I can’t!” Lucius whispered, throwing spell after spell to the invisible shield. “Nothing is working!”

While chaos ensued around the couple, Draco took deep breaths and closed his eyes. “I love you,” he whispered again. “I’ll see you two soon.”

“DRACO!” his parents screamed one last time.

“Avada Kedavra,” he whispered. And just like that…

He was gone.

Everyone was silent, staring in shock at their fallen bodies. Draco Malfoy and Vivienne Moore were dead; Draco’s form was on top of Vivienne like he was protecting her from all dark and evil. One hand laid across her stomach. For their unborn baby.

“How sad,” Voldemort mused with amusement over the cries of many people, “Their lives were taken away, just like that dreadful story: Romeo and Juliet.”

✨✨✨

The battle was over, Voldemort was gone and defeated. Everyone celebrated, but only momentarily. Many lives were gone, especially two people.

They had grabbed their bodies, placing them gently in the middle of the Great Hall on one cot. They made it look like they were just merely sleeping; Vivienne's head resting gently on Draco's chest, his arms wrapped around her protectively - especially in her stomach area. Madam Pomphrey had checked over Vivienne and their suspicions were confirmed. Vivienne was pregnant when she died. It made the whole thing worse; not only did they kill a dear friend, but they also indirectly killed an innocent unborn child. Peace was all the two ever wanted.

Draco's parents stood on one side of the bed, the Golden Trio on the opposite side. They were giving their respects.

Hermione was crying into Ron's chest, heart filled with guilt and heartbreak at the sight before them. Draco's parents were in a similar situation; Narcissa crying into her husband's chest. Lucius stared down at the bodies with an expression of sorrow at the sight of his only son gone.

Looking at them, they never realised how much their situation took a toll on the two teenagers until then. They noticed the sunken eyes, skinniness, the stress lines on their faces...yet despite all that they looked to be in peace.

"No more," Lucius rasped out. Everyone turned to him, even nearby people. "No more of this feud. That's why they're gone. Because of this stupid feud between us."

Harry nodded in agreement. "No more," he acknowledged.

The two were buried alongside Dumbledore as a symbol to everyone; that love was unlimited and powerful, that love conquered all - even at the worst. It was also a symbol of why feuds shouldn't happen.

Draco Malfoy and Vivienne Moore were marked in history by the Wizardry World.

Harry named his third son after Draco, and Hermione and Ron named their third daughter after Vivienne.

There was peace between the Malfoys and the Golden Trio - they would all meet up on the anniversary of their death.

There was peace between Slytherin and Gryffindor for the first time in history.

Draco and Vivienne's story was told worldwide for many years, their story having been written down in diaries the two owned.

Everyone knew the truth in the end.

Vivienne was innocent.

Draco was innocent.

And they were in love.

Like Romeo and Juliet.

Hermione pulled away from the typewriter, blinking away her tears. It was done; she finished writing the story of the star-crossed lovers after 22 years of writing, erasing, writing, editing - until she reached the end. She wanted it to be as real and detailed as possible. It was the least she could do for them.

A knock came on her door, revealing her two best friends - one of them being her husband. They noticed the sad look on her face and the typewriter she sat behind. "It's finished, huh?" Harry mused, the two of them sitting across from her.

"Yeah, it's done," she sighed, closing the two diaries gently and putting them in a safe. "I hope it is as close to the actual memories..."

"I'm sure you did brilliant, Mione," Ron assured her. "They would love it."

"I think it will bring closure to us all," Harry added quietly, "especially to Malfoy's parents."

"After making sure it's correct, the first copy will be sent to them," she announced confidently, gathering the papers and putting them in a safe place on her clean desk. "How are they? It's almost the anniversary..."

"As fine as they can be," Harry sighed, slumping in his chair. "I feel sorry for them all the time. We lost schoolmates when they lost their son...and granddaughter..."

"Poor Vivienne had no one," Ron added miserably. "I can't believe we treated her so harshly..."

"All we can do is move on," Hermione told them shakily. "That's what they would have wanted. That, and the truth which is why I made this book."

"Oh!" Ron perked up at a sudden thought. "There's another reason why we're here!"

"There is?" the Minister of Magic wondered.

"Yup!" the two men nodded.

"It's done," Harry announced. "The painting is done."

✨✨✨

"Mr Malfoy, Mrs Malfoy," Hermione greeted the parents. "It's lovely to see you two again."

"You too," Narcissa said with a weak smile, Lucius giving a small nod.

"I know today is a tough day for all of us," Harry started, "but we hope to help you two get some closure. Which brings us to two gifts."

"Gifts?" Lucius frowned.

"Yes," Hermione nodded. She handed them the wrapped book. "This is the story of Draco and Vivienne - from the first time they saw each other, to..." she trailed off sadly. "Using their diaries, I was able to connect their memories and so I hope through this, you can get some closure and know that despite all this, your son was very happy and in love."

"Thank you," Narcissa sniffed, holding the book to her chest tightly as if it were a newborn. She always wished to be part of Darco’s life when it came to romance, to hear him gush about the lucky girl that caught his heart. She wasn’t able to experience that with her son, but perhaps through this book, she can get a smidge of what her son felt throughout his love life…

"The second gift..." Ron walked to them while levitating a large rectangle-shaped object covered with a cloth. While it was floating in midair, Ron grabbed the cloth and pulled it away to reveal an artwork. An artwork that made them all stifle cries.

It was an artwork with three people; Draco, Vivienne, and their newborn child held gently between the couple. The painting was set in a beautiful field, with the small family sitting on a picnic blanket.

"In their diary," Hermione explained, "Vivienne wrote a dream she had. She had a dream that she was having a beautiful picnic in a field full of flowers and sunshine, and with her was Draco and their newborn baby. Draco gushed about the dream in his diary, and how he hoped it would come true once the battle was over. They knew they were going to have a girl despite the early stages of her pregnancy, and they came up with the name Dariela for their daughter, which means -"

"Beloved," the parents answered. They remember when Draco was a young boy visiting another family’s manor, he came across a book full of baby names - they remembered Draco showing the name Dariela to them, saying how he found it beautiful and hoped to name his daughter that in the future.

"An anonymous painter wanted to create something for us to bring closure," Harry explained to the emotional parents. "With this, we can imagine this as them now, watching us."

"We had a plan of hanging this in Hogwarts," Ron told them, "but at the same time this should go to you since Draco is your son -"

"No," they shook their head.

"You can hang it in Hogwarts," Lucius told them. "It's where it belongs. It’s where…it’s where they met. The beautiful painting doesn’t belong in a dark place like our home."

"Although..." Narcissa hesitated. "If possible...can there be another painting for us to hang? So they can come and go if they wanted..."

"Of course," Hermione nodded quickly. "The painter is working on it already."

"Thank you so much -"

"Hello..." they all gasped when the painting came to life; Draco and Vivienne smiling at them. Narcissa couldn't hold it in and released her sobs.

"Oh, my baby!" she cried. Draco merely smiled at her blissfully. "I'm so sorry..."

"It's okay, it's not your fault," the Draco painting spoke. It made them all shiver with how realistic he sounded. It's been 22 years since they last heard from them…

"Just know that we are happy, and at peace," Vivienne told them, cradling her baby in her arms happily. "We're always watching from above."

"We forgive you," the two chorused. The living people weren't aware of how much they needed to hear that from their lips until that day.

That was the last time the painting spoke. From then on, it was just the two of them smiling and enjoying their time together, something they never got when they were alive. They would silently greet people in Hogwarts, and sometimes visit Malfoy Manor - but everyone knew that it was quite dangerous to have a moving painting of a passed loved one as it could bring one person to madness and unable to move on.

Nonetheless, after that, it was easier for people to move on, to live their lives knowing that everything was okay now, that the small family - wherever they were - was in a happy place.

They never forgot the star-crossed lovers and made sure everyone knew about them and their story. Their story was passed down from generation to generation, proving again that in the end…

Love was unlimited and powerful, and love conquered all.

The End

#harry potter #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x oc #draco malfoy angst #draco lucius malfoy #draco fanfiction #draco fic #draco malfoy x reader

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