Black
Black. A color of death, mourning, darkness, threat, evil, destruction...
Yet while it was laden with negative connotations…no other color was quiet so mysterious.
It was the color Hermione hated to wear, and wore it only when it was required of her. Everything about the color was…sad. The color you wear affects your personality…in her opinion black disguises a person with sorrow, ambiguity and anger. That's why Hermione never wore black.
She was standing in front of her closet looking for something to wear…something black.
"Can I come in?" she heard Ginny call from her door after three soft knocks.
"Yes," she replied. She didn't turn to watch the red head step into her room and approach her.
"Are you alright?"
"I have nothing to wear."
Ginny was now standing beside her. "Nothing to wear?"
"I don't have anything black to wear tomorrow."
Hermione had told Harry, Ron, and Ginny about the funeral less than an hour ago, and they had all come back to her and Draco's common room.
Hermione had excused herself, but twenty minutes had passed and she hadn't returned. Ginny left the boys to check on her, only to find her standing in the middle of her room with a lost look on her face.
"I don't either," Ginny said, "I was going to transfigure some of my clothes to be black for the funeral."
"Yes, I expect I'll have to do that too," she said. "I hate black," she added.
"Hermione," Ginny said comfortingly, "come back out to the common room."
"Black is such a callous color," Hermione continued, ignoring Ginny's comment.
"Would you like me to help you find something?" Ginny offered when she realized Hermione didn't want to leave.
Hermione didn't answer her immediately, "I suppose I should before tomorrow."
Ginny nodded and began to go through her things. "Here are some suitable shoes," Ginny said as she held up a pair of her heels. "Do you want to wear a skirt or trousers?"
"I'll just…I don't care really—I just want to look nice," Hermione finished.
"Okay…well, it looks like the majority of your wardrobe is jeans and skirts…lets go with the skirt," Ginny said as she took out one of her school uniform skirts. After a few adjustments, the skirt was all black and was long enough to fall past her knees. Ginny fished out some black stockings, and laid them on her bed along with the skirt and heels.
Ginny then found a few jumpers and let Hermione choose which one she wanted.
"That one," Hermione said immediately after Ginny held up her cherry cashmere pullover. "I want to wear that, my mother gave it to me."
"This will look very nice," Ginny said as she transfigured the bright red to a deadened black. "I much prefer the other color," she whispered as she handed it to Hermione.
"I couldn't agree with you more," Hermione said as she picked up her outfit and set it on her dresser. "Thanks Gin," Hermione said as she allowed her to pull her back into the common room.
"There you are," Harry said as he saw the two girls emerge.
"I was helping her find her outfit for the funeral," Ginny said to Harry and Ron as Hermione went to sit next to Draco.
"Well, I think we should head back to Gryffindor tower, we'll see you both in the morning," Harry said as he went over to Hermione to give her a hug.
"Draco," Harry said as he extended his hand. Ron and Ginny gave Hermione a quick hug while Harry and Draco shook hands.
"Night," Draco said to the three Gryffindors as they walked out of the common room.
Hermione reclined against Draco and shut her eyes.
"Are you ready to go to sleep?"
She nodded. Draco scooped her up in his arms and carried her back to her room.
He laid her down on the bed, and then went to take a quick shower. When he returned to her room she was sound asleep, and he was careful not to wake her as he slid in behind her.
"Night love," he whispered into her ear.
Hermione, Draco, Harry, Ron, and Ginny all met for breakfast the next morning. As there were no classes that day, the Great Hall was deserted and the five were accompanied by no less than ten others from various houses.
Hermione ate quietly, not making eye contact with any of the others. Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun, and her jaw was set when she didn't have food in her mouth. Her left hand, however, was under the table holding tightly to Draco's.
Draco could tell that she was extremely anxious, but for some reason she didn't wish to share that with her friends.
Hermione was the first to finish her meal, and she set her goblet down carefully after draining her juice. She cleared her throat and prepared to talk for the first time that morning, "I'm going to go back to my room before we head to Dumbledore's office, I'll only be a minute."
"Do you want me to come with you?" Draco asked when she pulled her hand away from his.
"No."
She didn't wait for Draco to respond, and was up and walking out of the Great Hall before any of them could get a word in.
When the click of her heels could be heard distantly in the corridor Ron sighed loudly. "This is going to be tough," he said as he set down his fork loudly.
"She is preparing to burry her parents, of course it's going to be tough," Ginny chided from across the table.
"We just need to give her space when she needs it, you know Hermione. She likes to handle things her way," Harry said. "Today is going to be difficult because she has already grieved for them. This will only serve to resurface all the memories that she has already tried to forget."
"But it will also bring closure, it should help her," Ron said to Harry.
"I think it will be more painful to recall their murder."
"We also have to remember that there will be people there that knew her parents. People will be approaching her, probably people that she doesn't know very well. It's going to be a long day," Ginny agreed.
"What did they tell the muggles?" Draco asked.
"Wha?" Ron asked through a mouth full of toast.
"I said," he repeated, shooting Ron a disgusted look, "what did they tell the muggles? I mean, they can't exactly tell them what really happened without giving away our world."
"That's a good questions, I have no idea what they were told," Harry said from beside Ginny.
"They probably just said they were murdered, that is what happened after all," Ginny said after swallowing some juice.
They pondered this thought while they finished their meal, and then sat at the table waiting for Hermione to return.
"Maybe you should you go check on her," Ginny suggested to Draco. Just as the words left her mouth, Dumbledore walked up behind them and greeted them.
"I decided to take a walk and come to you all instead," he explained. "And where is Miss Granger?" Dumbledore asked, glancing around with a puzzled look on his face.
"I was just going to get her," Draco said, shooting Ginny a look as he stood.
Draco half ran to the dorms, a sinking feeling overcoming him for some unknown reason.
"Hermione?" he said loudly as soon as he stepped through the portrait hole, "Hermione where are you?" he called out when he didn't immediately spot her in the common room.
No answer.
"Hermione?" he called out, his voice growing frantic. Oh no, what if his father had come to abduct her again? His heart was racing as he ran to her door and doubled its speed when it was locked. He should never have let her come here by herself!
"Alohomora!" he yelled, and flung the door open.
There she was. She was on her bed, lying on her stomach, gazing at her Pensieve.
"Hermione, love, what are you doing?" he said as relief flooded across his face. For a minute there, he'd been thinking the worse.
She didn't respond, only stared intently at the object between her hands.
Draco went to sit beside her, and she finally stirred when his weight shifted the bed.
"I was just—I was saying goodbye," she whispered.
"Isn't that what today is for?"
"I had to hear their voices again," she admitted. "I had to see them…as they were before it happened. I had to see their faces…I won't be able to look at them today."
"I doubt that the service will be open-casket," he assured her. "It's been too long since their…since that night."
"Magic Draco, you never know," she whispered.
"Dumbledore and the others are waiting; we're ready when you are."
Hermione sat up to set her Pensieve back on her dresser and breathed deeply. Then without warning, she brought her hands to her face as she began to cry.
Draco went to hold her as she sobbed into his shoulder. Her hands fisted in his shirt as she pulled him closer to her body.
"Shhh," Draco soothed her.
Hermione coughed heavily as her tears began to fade and she pulled away. Draco kissed her lightly on the forehead and began to lead her out of the room and towards the Great Hall.
Hermione wiped her face with her hands as they walked silently down the hall.
"Morning professor, sorry I'm late," Hermione said as soon as she saw Dumbledore.
"No worries, are you all ready now?" They all nodded and stood to follow the headmaster out of the Great Hall.
Ten minutes passed when they finally made it to Hogsmeade and entered the Three Broomsticks.
"Dumbledore, I've been expecting you," Madam Rosmerta said as she saw them enter. The pub was empty, and she came up to greet them. "This way," she said to them. She led them to a back room where a lone kettle sat on the counter.
"This is the port key that Arthur Weasley set up," Rosmerta said.
"Thank you for your generosity," Dumbledore said as he gestured for them to grab hold of the kettle.
"Goodbye," Dumbledore said to them as before they knew it, they were hurled into darkness.
Black. That was the first thing that Hermione noticed when she opened her eyes after they landed.
"We're here," Draco said as he took hold of her hand as they started down the path.
Hermione glanced around. Large swooping trees of wisteria lined a lengthy pebbled drive, with long black limousines parked all along the sides. People dressed in black were walking down the path to the church that sat about twenty feet away. The scrape of pebbles and the movement of the branches above were the only sounds around.
"Ron! Ginny, Harry, Hermione!" they suddenly heard. They stopped and turned around to find Molly and Arthur Weasley heading towards them.
Molly scooped her children up into a big hug, then Harry, and then turned to Hermione. "Hermione, dear," Molly said sadly as she pulled her into a big strong hug.
Hermione was still holding onto Draco's hand when Molly glanced at him. She did a very obvious double take then pulled away from Hermione in a hurry.
"And what pray tell are you doing here?" she asked taken aback.
Draco exchanged a look with Hermione before Ginny had stepped in front of her mother to take her to the side. Draco heard Ginny explaining things and heard Molly complaining that Hermione was too good for him.
"Don't listen to her, she's overreacting," Hermione said to him.
"Is she? I mean, I am the son of Lucius Malfoy—"
"Don't," she cut him off as Arthur approached.
"Hello Hermione," he said as he gave her a brief hug. "I'm so sorry about your parents," he said sadly.
"Thank you Mr. Weasley."
Arthur then looked at Draco. He opened his mouth to say something, and then turned away abruptly.
Draco rolled his eyes. "Figures," he muttered. "I suppose that lot will never warm up to me."
"You don't know that, Ron and Ginny get along with you just fine. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley just don't know that you and I are…involved, that's all."
"So are you going to tell them or should I?" he asked sarcastically.
"Ginny's already on it," she said as she saw Molly look over her shoulder and size up her and Draco. She shook her head, "I don't need this, not today," she said as she turned around to head for the church. Suddenly, a thought occurred to her.
"Mr. Weasley?" she called out.
He came back to her side, "What is it dear?"
"I was just wandering, what did they tell the rest of the guests about their death—the muggles I mean, what did they tell the muggles?"
"They were told that there was some sort of harmful poison in the house."
"What kind of poison?"
"I am not sure; I don't know what they called it."
She thought for a moment, "Was it called carbon monoxide?"
"Yes, that's the one."
"What's that?" Ron asked from her side. Draco leaned in to hear her reply.
"It's a gas that sometimes can leak out into a house from the heater or a stove. It's also found in the exhaust of cars. It is said to kill a lot of people while they are sleeping because they are dead before they know they have a leak," Hermione explained.
"Oh," they said from her side.
Hermione turned her attentions back to Arthur, "Didn't the muggles wander why it took so long to hold a funeral?"
"As you probably already know, the ministry had a tough time handling things since it was a murder scene by muggle standards. The only plausible reason we could come up with was that you were away at your private school and were unable to leave until now. They understood seeing as you are their only child…and now, here we are."
Hermione nodded. "Here we are," she muttered to herself.
Arthur turned back to Molly who had just finished talking to Ginny. Hermione and Draco began down the path and Harry, Ron, and Ginny fell in step behind them.
Hermione looked up at the wisteria trees…they were so peaceful, swaying gently in the wind, the purple buds in bloom on this cool May morning. "What I wouldn't give to be a flower," she thought.
She looked back at the road to see an old couple climbing out of a small black car. She gasped, "Mema?" she called out.
The old woman looked up and immediately spotted Hermione. "Oh Harold, its Hermione!" she cried, tugging on her husbands sleeve.
Hermione pulled her hand away from Draco's and dashed into the woman's arms. "Mema, I've missed you," she cried.
Mema had tears rolling down her cheeks as Hermione ran into her arms. By the time they pulled apart Draco was standing by their side.
"Draco, this is Mema, she used to look after me when I was growing up," Hermione said to Draco. "She was my grandmother's very best friend," she said as she gave Harold a hug. "This is Harold," she added.
"And who might this handsome young man be?" Mema asked bluntly.
Hermione smiled. It was nice to be reminded that most of the people she saw today wouldn't be judging Draco in the way that the wizarding world did.
"Mema, Harold, this is my boyfriend Draco Malfoy," she said as Draco extended his hand.
"Good lad," Harold said after Draco shook it firmly.
Hermione then proceeded to introduce the rest of her friends to Mema and Harold and they all continued down the path.
Draco was walking behind Hermione, watching her talk to Mema. Though the two looked sad as they talked about the loss, it was also her first real smile since the news of the funeral.
"You love her, don't you," Harold said to Draco suddenly falling into step beside him. "I see the way you're looking at her."
Draco looked over at him then back towards Hermione. He nodded. "Yes sir, I do."
"Good lad," he whispered again with a smile. "She needs all the comforting she can get her little hands on."
They finally made it to the church steps when Hermione turned around to motion for Draco to come over to where she was.
"I rather like that man," Draco told her, nodding in Harold's direction as Harold went to take Mema's arm to escort her up the stairs.
"Me too," she said as the people behind them continued to climb the steps to enter the church. The Weasley's and Harry entered the church as well.
She stood at the foot of the steps watching the people pass them. Some she recognized, others she didn't. One woman stopped and gave her a weeping hug, another handed her a crimson rose and patted her cheek with a motherly demeanor.
"I have so many memories of this place," she said quietly. "I used to play on these steps when I was a little girl."
Draco followed her as she took one step at a time.
"My father and mother used to take my hands and swing me high in the air when we would walk away from mass," she said, climbing further up the steps.
They made it to the top to find a sea of black. Hermione took a deep breath, grabbed hold of Draco's hand for the hundredth time that day, and walked hesitantly through the grand entrance and into a mass of unfamiliar faces.
"That was their daughter."
"Poor girl, she looks distraught."
"Oh, bless that child; she is all alone in the world now."
"Thank heavens she wasn't home when it happened."
Voices spoke loud enough for her to hear as she passed, and her fingernails began to unconsciously dig into Draco's skin. After it began to hurt, he pulled his hand away and placed it around her waist.
Her eyes were large as people began to stop her and talk to her about her parents. It was obvious that she didn't know them well, but smiled politely all the same. She held the rose between both of her hands now, and was startled when a hand reached out to her.
"Roger?" she asked as a graying man stepped out.
"'ello dear," he said with a very strong Scottish accent.
Draco let go of her waist as Roger pulled her into a fierce hug. "It has been too long," he said with a cheerless grin.
"It has," she said as a tear slid down her cheek. "Roger, I'd like you to meet Draco Malfoy. Draco, this is Roger, he is—he was my dad's best mate."
Draco shook his hand and gave him a nod.
"Pleasure," Roger said to Draco. "Now love, I'm afraid I need a word with you real quick," he said, glancing at Draco as if to hint 'privately' without having to say it.
"I'll be right back," Hermione promised as she allowed Roger to pull her away.
Draco watched them walk away, a little offended at being shrugged off like that. "Oh well," he thought as he continued down the large aisle of the church. He assumed that they would be sitting in the front row so he made his way to the front. He was startled to see that there was indeed, an open-casket.
"I'll be damned," he muttered as he approached them. A woman stood stiffly staring down at them and didn't flinch as Draco stepped up beside her.
"Carbon monoxide my arse," she said harshly.
He was taken aback by the sound of her agitated voice. "Excuse me?" Draco said as he glanced at her. She had long straight brown hair and was no older than 20.
"I said," she looked up into his eyes, "carbon monoxide my arse."
Draco shrugged and tore his eyes away from hers. They were severely blue.
"Did you know them?" Draco asked when she didn't carry on.
"No. My father owns the morgue but always insists on attending the services. He always brings me or my older sister along, says we light up the room, and among such depressed people the room needs comforting."
Draco nodded. That was a little strange…why would you go to a funeral when you didn't even know the deceased?
"And trust me this room needs some lighting," she continued as she turned around. "I mean, check out this lot…what on earth are they wearing?" she said as she pointed to the Weasley family, or more specifically, to Arthur and Molly who were no doubt out of place in their wizard robes. "They are so dejected that they didn't even check a mirror before leaving their house."
He chuckled softly at her remark. Trust a Weasley to have no attempt to 'blend in.'
After a few moments she motioned to the casket and asked, "Did you know them?"
He looked down at them then turned away. "No. I know their daughter, that's all."
"Oh yea, what's her name? Something strange, I can't remember."
"Hermione," he said quickly.
"Do you know her well?" Her large blue eyes gazed at him insistently
"Very well, she's my girlfriend."
The girl smirked at him. "Oh, I see. Well seeing as this entire service was delayed just because of her and her astute private school, I suppose you are just as snobby and conceited as she is."
Ok. This girl was just annoying him now. He opened his mouth to defend Hermione, but decided that he needn't waste his time with this pissy muggle. She was doing everything but lightening his mood.
"What kind of school doesn't allow you to leave to attend your own parents' funeral? Honestly, I've been hearing about this damn service for months to find out that they've been putting it off for some daughter of theirs at some highly prestigious school that I've never even heard of," she whined.
Draco had had enough and with one last glance at the caskets, he turned to leave.
"She must not have loved them. Their death doesn't seem to have mattered to her at all."
He turned around as soon as the words left her mouth. "You don't know i anything /i about their deaths," he said hotly.
She grabbed his arm as he tried to pass her, "Like I said," she stared at him, "carbon monoxide my arse."
Draco narrowed his eyes. "Who are you?" he asked her callously.
"None of your damn business—" she started but was interrupted as a thin man called to her.
"Miss Sinclair, your father wishes to speak to you."
She looked at Draco and sneered, then pushed his arm away from her and stalked off.
Well that was odd.
"First off, my condolences," Roger said to Hermione.
"Thank you Roger, but what is this all about? What couldn't you talk to me about in front of my boyfriend?"
"Oh he's your boyfriend?"
"Yes, he is. And I could tell he wasn't entirely pleased with being dismissed that way."
"Calm, down Hermione, this is important. You've got to listen to me."
"I'm listening."
"It's about the will."
The will. Her eyes dropped.
"The house is yours; I assume you've already figured that out. They say that they have cleaned it thoroughly and rid it of the poisoning—"
"I don't want to live there," she said before he could finish.
"I guessed that much. But there's more, a lot more."
Hermione stared at him. "What?" she asked when he didn't continue.
"While you were away, your parents were offered a wonderful opportunity. I doubt they got the chance to tell you about it, it was offered around Christmas time a few days before…you know. Before it happened."
"What were they offered?"
"You know how astute your parents were in their field?"
"Yes, I know."
"They were offered a chance to head up an international convention for dentists from around the world."
"Wow, really?"
"There were a few catches. If they accepted, they would have to travel with the convention for two years around the world. If they accepted, they would have made enough money to retire if they wished."
Hermione was hanging on his every word for she remembered…that was one of the last conversations she had had with her parents. . . .
"NO! We will not go through this again! I am staying here, I wouldn't dream of doing that to Hermione! Ever!"
"Honey, think about it. It's a once in a lifetime opportunity! How can we pass an offer like this? We could retire in 5 years if we went, and we would be able to send Hermione through uni without having to borrow money."
Hermione remembered stepping through the front door and seeing her mother turn to greet her….
"Oh! There you are Hermione, we were just about to fetch you!"
She remembered asking them what they had been arguing about….
"Arguing? Sweetie, we were only discussing-uh, something for the business…"
"I remember them talking about it," Hermione told him. "I remember, my mother didn't want to but my father did." She looked up at him after a moment, "Why are you telling me this? What does this have to do with the will?"
"It doesn't really pertain to the will. What I wanted to tell you, is that the president of this convention heard about what happened and has granted you a large sum of money to put you through college."
"What?"
Roger smiled and patted her on the back. "He is a very generous man," he said.
"This is just too much to process," she choked back tears as she fiddled with the petals on her rose. Roger saw her distress and gave her a hug.
"It'll be okay, Hermione."
She nodded uncertainly. "Where am I to live?"
"You can stay with me, if you'd like," he said, pulling away. "Look around you Hermione, there are many people here who are more than willing to help you out in this difficult time. Harold already told me that his home is your home, and I'm sure there are plenty more who are willing to open their homes to you until you get on your feet."
"Until I get on my feet, ha," she thought. Little did they all know that the world she lived in was about to undergo the war of the century.
"Thank you Roger, I'll figure it out soon enough," she said. Would she live with the Weasleys? Where was Harry going? Where was Draco going? Surely he wouldn't return home….
"Excuse me, Hermione?"
Hermione glanced up into the aged face of Kall Morris.
"Father Morris," she said as Roger took his leave.
"My dear Hermione, my deepest and most sincere apologies."
"Thank you Father," she replied.
"Are you about ready to proceed with the service?"
She glanced around and saw that most of the people had taken their seats. "I suppose so—" she left off as her eyes fell apon the caskets for the first time.
Father Morris turned to see what had caught her attention. Comprehension dawned on his face as he said, "We'll start in ten minutes," before he left her.
Hermione's mind was in a whirl as she walked down the aisle that led to the open caskets. She felt like every movement around her was one big black blur as she walked slowly towards her parents….
"Hermione?" soft hands wrapped around her waist.
"Draco," her mind registered, but she didn't break her gaze and didn't even show that she'd heard him. She kept walking until her eyes fell apon their bodies. She could feel Draco standing beside her.
They stood in silence as Hermione's eyes darted back and forth. Tears fell rapidly as a corner of her mind attempted to command them to sit up and talk to her or hug her or at least open their eyes and look at her. But of course, nothing happened.
She felt Draco grasp her hand and squeeze gently.
"They look…peaceful."
"They do," Draco agreed.
Hermione brought her free hand up to cover her eyes as she cried harder and Draco brought her to him so that she could cry onto his shoulder.
She exhaled deeply and pulled away. She dried her eyes, then brought the rose to her face to smell its fragrance. Then, without warning, she began to rip the petals from the flower. She went to the caskets and gently pushed a few petals into each of their hands, then kissed them each on the forehead. She dropped the stem on the floor, then made to put her remaining petals into her pocket to keep until she noticed that she had no pockets in her skirt.
"Will you hold these for me?"
"Sure," Draco said as he took the petals and put them in his pocket.
"Thank you," she whispered as they stepped away from the viewing area and returned to the front row of the church.
Father Morris began the service, and after several scriptures, he had Roger come to the stand to give a eulogy.
Hermione had tears streaming down her face as Roger gave a lighthearted speech. Yet every time she laughed at a funny memory, it would only cause more tears to fall. She could hear people sniffing all around her, and she felt Mema pat her on the knee from beside her. Draco was on her other side, holding tight to her hand.
When the eulogy was over, Father Morris asked for the bearers to come forth to take the caskets outside to the hearse. Hermione was asked to stand and walk behind the caskets, and Draco, Mema, and Roger walked beside her.
Hermione was crying silently as she watched the bearers gently place the caskets into the hearse, and most of the people from the church slowly followed them down the road to the cemetery.
The hearse had already unloaded the caskets when Hermione got there. She held Draco and Mema's arms to keep herself from falling as sobs invaded her body.
Draco could tell at this point that she was inconsolable, and did nothing more than press his lips against her head.
Half an hour passed before the crowd of black dispersed and left. Roger was having a last word with Father Morris and the funeral director. Draco, Harry, Ron, and Ginny had stayed by Hermione's side until they could see that she wanted to be alone as she stared at the fresh dirt that now lay over her parents.
Draco sensed that Ron and Ginny's parents were still sending him death glares, so he walked to a nearby bench to rest. He watched Hermione from a distance as she crossed her arms across her chest and hung her head mournfully.
The Weasley's and Harry and now started back to the church for the after service. After another ten minutes he went to Hermione and asked her if she was ready to return.
"No, not yet, I'd like some more time alone please. You can go; I'll meet you back at the church."
"Alright," he whispered. He pulled out one of the many petals that she had earlier stuck in his pockets and pushed it into her hand just as she had done for her parents. "I love you, Hermione, please remember that."
She looked down and seemed to open her hand in slow motion. She closed her eyes and sighed, "Thank you."
And with that, he turned around to leave.
"How is she?" he heard a voice say, and Draco spun around. It was Harold.
"Oh…as one should be at a funeral I suppose."
"Yes, this is difficult," he said as he looked at Hermione. "You heading back?"
"Yes sir."
"My wife already went, said she needed to freshen up in the loo," he chuckled. "Women," he added with a laugh.
Draco smiled. "What a humble muggle," he thought to himself.
"I never got to ask you, did you ever get to meet Hermione's parents?"
"No, I never did."
"Shame. They were splendid people. Very rare, those two were. Damn smart too, I might add. No wonder there daughter is a genius, she inherited their brains no doubt."
Draco exhaled loudly, thinking about how this man knew absolutely nothing of his own father's wretchedness, "Wish I could have inherited good qualities from my parents."
"Don't we all, my boy," he said. "You must have inherited some good things, like those golden locks of yours. Quiet a unique hair color, I saw a man back at the church with a long lock of hair very similar to your own. That and it looked like he was about to be in a film with his damn costume, kind of like that red-headed lot that you introduced to us," he said with a nod at the Weasley's who were ahead of them in the distance.
Wizard robes…wait...
"Oh blimey, did you feel that? That there was a raindrop," Harold said as he looked up to the sky, and then began to walk faster.
Draco doubled his strides to keep up with him, "Wait, what did you just say?"
"I said it's going to rain—"
"No, before that," Draco said with a frustrated tone as his heart sped up.
"That those red-heads dress funny—"
"Before that!"
"Now just wait a minute—"
"You said you saw a man with hair like mine? Wearing funny clothing like the Weasley's?"
"I did, but you don't have to be rude—"
"I'm sorry," Draco said as he left Harold at a full speed run. Shit…if what Harold said was true, then Draco had a sinking feeling that Lucius Malfoy was lurking...
Draco made it to the church within moments.
"What is it?" Harry asked as he was standing at the entrance and had seen him running.
Draco didn't want to alarm them, so he shook his head as his eyes searched the crowd of black frantically. "Nothing," he said distractedly as he left Harry who had a peculiar look on his face.
Nothing, there was no sign of him. The church only had about twenty people in it, the service was over. Perhaps it was a long trench coat that a muggle was wearing…and he just happened to have long blonde hair like his.
"Draco, are you alright?" Ginny said as she came to his side.
Draco looked back to her, "Yes, I'm going to go get Hermione. I think it's about to rain."
Draco started for the front doors of the church, but he stopped as a feeling overcame him. Something was telling him to go through the back entrance. That must be where he was hiding, waiting for….
"Oh shit, he's waiting for Hermione!" he thought. How could he have left her alone! Again! He sprinted to the back of the church, turning a few heads as he hastily opened several doors to try and find which one led to the outside.
He flung the door opened, his wand was now out and ready to attack, but there was no one there. Draco literally felt his blood pump faster throughout his veins as he peered around columns in search of his father.
Still, no one. Perhaps he was just being paranoid. He lowered his wand as he realized that the back of the church was deserted. He still felt uncertain…but there was no sign that he should be worried. Sighing loudly, he treaded down the steps to the grass, and made his way to the pebbled road that led to the cemetery, a few scarce rain drops wetting his hair.
That was when he saw it…a flash of black. It had disappeared as quickly as he'd seen it, and he stepped off the road towards the trees it had disappeared behind. Draco could feel his heart beat pounding inside of his ears as he had an immense gut feeling that the flash of black was Lucius Malfoy.
Draco came to a stop when he neared a patch of trees just off the pebbled road. "Lucius," said aloud with hardly any feeling. He was rooted to the spot as his father's voice answered.
"Behind you."
"Apparition," he muttered as he slowly turned to face the cold stare Lucius Malfoy. "What the hell are you doing here?" Draco asked harshly as he tried to inconspicuously look in Hermione's direction. He could see her in the distance and a small part of his body relaxed at knowing that Lucius hadn't harmed her.
"I could ask you the same question, what the bloody hell are you doing out of school?" Lucius said easily, an unnerving smirk on his face.
"As if you already didn't know why I'm here, father," Draco gritted out as he held his wand at his father's heart.
Lucius shook his head and simply raised his hand with an unspoken incantation so that Draco's wand soared willingly into his outstretch glove. Draco would have protested if Lucius' wand wasn't pointed at his face immediately in return. "I never thought I'd live to see the day when my own blood would willingly attend a ceremony for some pathetic muggle."
"I'm no son of yours," Draco shot back, ignoring his father's wand. Almost immediately, without even hearing Lucius cast it, the searing pain of the Crucio curse overtook him.
Water leaked from the corners of Draco's eyes as Lucius let the spell eat away at his son, ignoring how he was now writhing with an unbearable pain. Finally, he lifted the spell. Draco was now crumpled on the ground, leaning slightly against the tree behind him.
"Macnair confessed what he did, which brings me to believe that you were not entirely to blame for not completing the plan in the beginning. However, your relations with the Mudblood clouded your mind so much that you refused to help us capture her at Hogwarts," Lucius drawled as he stood resolutely in front of Draco. "Then you show up at the Manor and confess that you love her…now Draco, let me explain to you that you don't love her…you love the idea of having your own disgusting Mudblood whore—"
"You're wrong," Draco grunted breathlessly.
The clouds above began to rumble, and within moments raindrops were splattering all around them.
"I love her; I would never leave her," he said with a little more strength. "I will not be forced to become what you have become…a pitiable servant to Voldemort!"
Draco felt his father send another round of Crucio to him, and he blacked out for a moment from the pain.
"YOU ARE A MALFOY, LIKE IT OR NOT! YOU WILL DO AS I SAY, AND I'M TELLING YOU THAT YOU WILL BE A SERVANT TO THE DARK LORD!"
"No I won't," Draco said almost calmly. With all of his strength, he lifted his head, his hair sticking to his face now from the rain, and looked at Hermione. She was walking down the path towards them...
"I love her," Draco repeated as he caught the whites of Hermione's eyes. "There's nothing you can do to change that."
Lucius laughed aloud. "Oh, I beg to differ my dear son," he said as he raised his wand.
Hermione wiped her face with her hands. Her heart was sore with anguish and she had shed so many tears that her makeup was running down her cheeks. She closed her eyes and listened to the trees sway in the wind, and the sound of soft thunder from above.
She watched her most cherished childhood memories from behind her closed eyelids as if it were her own theater inside her mind…could that have been what went through her parents' eyes before they died?
Memories of outings in the park, playing on bright yellow swing sets, climbing trees, going to the library and piling as many books as she could into her fathers outstretched arms, drinking tea with her mother in the afternoon, riding her bicycle through her neighborhood, playing in her tree house, getting ice cream with her mother after church on Sunday's...
When Hermione opened her eyes, reality hit her hard as she stared down at two fresh mounds of dirt. She raised her arm and opened her palm to let the wind capture the rose petal she held to carry it away to the heavens.
"Goodbye," she whispered as she watched the petal float away into the sky. Just then, rain began to fall and she welcomed the wet drops on her upturned face. An enormous amount of cold loneliness overcame her very abruptly and she felt herself longing for the warmth of Draco by her side. She turned to make for the church, but couldn't bring herself to look at her parents' grave before she left.
Hermione walked carefully on the slippery pebbles, relieved that the rain was washing away her tears. Perhaps it could help to wash away some of the pain. That's when a flash of black caught her attention. "What is a guest doing out in the rain?" she whispered to herself. She walked faster towards the figure—wait, there were two people…and one was on the ground.
Her heart was pounding as the figure on the ground lifted its face...
"Draco?" she choked out as their eyes connected. His bright hair instantly gave him away, and she looked up at the other figure that now had his wand out and pointed at Draco…it was his father.
"DRACO!" she bellowed as she broke out into a run. Hermione stumbled in her heels, so she furiously kicked them off of her feet and continued to run in her stockings through the mud. When she was no more than fifteen yards away, she grabbed her wand and screamed the first curse that came to mind "STUP—"
"EXPARILLAMUS!" Lucius bellowed before she could complete her spell.
The spell sent her flying backwards through the slippery mud. The rough pebbles ripped her black clothing and she skidded to a halt. Her wand had flown off into the grass, and her head double bounced on the ground painfully.
Hermione's vision went black as she waited a moment for the dizziness to subside. She could vaguely hear Lucius shouting, and she weakly lifted her head as she watched Lucius point his wand at Draco again.
"YOU MAY HAVE LOVED HER DRACO, BUT I'M HERE TO MAKE SURE THAT YOU NEVER DO AGAIN!"
"Don't kill him!" she chanted to herself as got on her hands and knees to try and stand, "Please, please, please, please, please..."
"HERMIONE!" she heard someone yell in the distance, it was Harry. "Draco!" he shouted in surprise as he began to run towards them.
Lucius turned, glanced at Harry and Hermione, and then as if their presence didn't matter at all to him, he turned back on his own son.
Hermione's head was swarming as too much was happening at once. "NO!" she cried again as she stumbled while attempting to run to him as fast as she could more defenseless than ever, but not caring in the least.
Harry had his wand out but was still far away from them.
Hermione caught Draco's eye…and it scared her for they were full of a fear greater than she had ever seen from him. Tears were streaming down her face, and her hair had begun to fall out of the tight bun and fly haphazardly into her face. It seemed as though the rain grew harsher with every frantic step she took, but neither she nor Harry made it to Draco in time.
Hermione froze as one agonizing word from Lucius' mouth made her heart brake out of her chest.
"OBLIVIATE!"
Merely seconds later, Lucius took hold of his son and apparated him away.
Hermione fell to her knees. "Draco?" she breathed, her eyes glued to where he'd been moments before. The rain was now slamming against her skin painfully, but she paid no head to its severity.
Harry reached her side and put one hand on her shoulder. She swayed against him.
"Hermione, are you alright?" he asked, completely out of breath.
"Draco," she repeated as her mind was in its own reverie. She didn't feel Harry's touch for her senses were numb. She couldn't hear his voice, for her ears were consumed with her own cries. She lifted her head to the sky, the thunder rolled above her and before she could utter another syllable, everything went black. . . .
. . .But oh how I lived while you loved me. . . .
THE END
A/N: I'm doing a sequel! I'll have it posted soon, so stay tuned!
Hope you liked it, and thanks a bunch for reading!