Tene Memoria
Post Deathly Hallows and Epilogue DM/HG as well as glimpses of HG/RW

"Mr. Malfoy, my condolences."

"Mr. Malfoy, I'm so sorry."

"Mr. Malfoy, I understand how you feel."

"Mr. Malfoy, may she rest in peace."

These words reverberated in the front of the hall, where the ornate golden coffin lay.

Hundreds flocked the church, murmuring to the dead woman in the casket. Roses poured upon the woman whom few really knew. Strangers' tears fell on the floor of the church, mourning the loss of a prominent witch in the English wizarding population.

§-D-§

Draco stood motionless, looking only at the golden casket, face impassive. One arm hung limply to his side as the other encircled his son's shoulder, comforting the twelve year old. The Potters, Weasleys, Zabinis and a few others he knew stood close around him, shrouding him from the majority of the public who came forth to pay their respects. He wore a navy blue robe on top of his black ensemble, giving him the color of her eyes. The color mix of midnight blue and black pearls helped him feel closer to her. The hand on Scorpius' shoulder clenched on the green robe he wore, squishing the velvet plush she enjoyed wearing. A drop of water plopped onto his knuckle, and Draco knew instantly how much Scorpius was hurting. His son, who never cried as a baby, who had always been a happy bouncy blonde child, who had now entered his second exciting year at Hogwarts, was crying. Another tear fell on his hand, and another, and another-until his whole hand was wet with the grief of his son. He pulled the boy towards him and held him close with one arm while the other caressed the small head.

§-S-§

As Scorpius looked up to meet Draco's eyes, he saw his own eyes mirrored there. He saw his father, one of the most famous wizards in the magical world distraught with grief. His father's eyes were bloodshot from already crying for hours the days before and the lack of sleep from overworking his sorrows into his profession. Scorpius himself felt the restlessness of his eyes as he went to rub them furiously. Though his teachers had told him he could turn his homework late- that they understood, he had deliberately stayed up late to finish Professor Longbottom's Herbology scroll about mandrakes and Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration chart. He just couldn't sleep. Not when his mother was dead. He shuddered and hiccupped at the same time thinking about the word-"dead".

§-D-§

Over the years, Draco had seen much of the same, and had learned to keep his heart cold to the deaths. Of course he had switched sides just before the war had ended, but tragedy had struck fairly quickly. His parents were sent to Azkaban for involvement in the Death Eater activities, while he was given a pardon for helping save Harry Potter's life at some point. He didn't deserve such kindness but accepted it. His mother had confided in him while in her cell when he had gone to see her, "Draco, I love you, and don't you ever forget that your father did once too."

His father barely spoke to him; he was so weakened from not using magic that he was mostly skin and bones. His mother was much the same, though her beauty made her seem less fragile. A year later they had both died, his mother following his father's death out of love. He had lost most of his family in the war and his parents' deaths only made it worse. He learned his lesson to be humane yet harden his heart at the same time. It was a difficult feat, only possible because of his wife's support at the right time, making herself known as the one for him. He had been sorely tempted to follow his mother's example and follow his love, even in death. Only one thing really prevented him from doing so-his son.

He only formed friendships through his son's interactions and wife's insistence. But now that half of his life's worth was gone, he felt empty. He looked slowly around to see the faces of the various people who had come. Some of them he recognized from his daily workplace; others his close friends. Then there was the majority who were just strangers-they came, because 'The great Draco Malfoy's wife' died. He wasn't even sure how they found out where the funeral was. It had probably slipped out of one of his colleagues' mouth. The Daily Prophet had a way with people; he knew that from experience with dear old Rita. He barely read the papers nowadays, so he wondered if it had been published during the last week's issue. Knowing his status, probably. He continued looking around as his son turned back to watch the casket once more. His eyes met her eyes and for a split second, he was hopeful. As she gave a curt nod, his hope was snatched away. He recognized her as Daphne Greengrass, the only one who shared the same eyes as his late wife. His eyes misted, but he blinked furiously to prevent the tears from falling. 'Not now,' he thought to himself, 'wait until Scorpius is gone.'

Slowly, the crowd receded, disappearing after having done their duty to the late Mrs. Malfoy. Blaise touched his shoulder gently and whispered that he had to leave, an emergency had arisen in St. Mungos. Draco nodded. Soon the only people left were the Potters, the Weasleys and Daphne Greengrass. Scorpius sniffled once and then looked at his father, but Draco stood oblivious of the eyes watching him from below and gazed longingly at the casket.

Harry cleared his throat hesistantly and muttered, "Draco, we'll take Scorpius home tonight, let him stay with us. You should come too."

Draco started, and then looked at Harry. He saw the concern etched all over Harry's face and looked down at his son who looked back, tears still forming. Ginny quipped in insistently, "Draco, please, both of you should stay with us today; I want both of you under my care tonight!"

Still looking at Scorpius, Draco opened his mouth and found his voice. "L-let him stay with you, but I want to go home tonight. Please let me be. Thank you for the kindness you've shown, but I'd like to be alone tonight."

Ginny started to protest, but Harry quietly shushed her, saying that was alright and ushered Scorpius to Albus, James, Lily, Rose, Hugo and Ron who were waiting for them at the door. Scorpius murmured, "I love you, Father," waiting for a reply.

Draco murmured, as he held Scorpius close to him again, "I love you too, and don't forget she'll always love you, no matter where she is."

Scorpius hugged him tightly for a minute and nodded. Then he slowly turned and walked towards the doors. Ginny held out her hand, waiting for him. Once he reached her, she put her arm around his shoulder and nodded once, saying bye to Draco. Ginny then ushered Scorpius to door and led the others outside to wait for Harry.

Harry strode towards Draco and put a hand on his friend's shoulder, telling him to take care of himself that night and that the Potter house was always open.

Draco nodded and muttered a quiet 'Thank-you', feeling entirely grateful to his ex-enemy of a long time ago.

After Harry left, only one other person stood in the church-Daphne Greengrass. But she soon trailed along the path everyone else had taken towards the casket and placed a single flower atop it. She then slowly tread across the floor, gently opened the door and left.

Draco heard the door click to a close and was alone. He stepped towards the ornate casket and reached into his breast pocket. As he knelt down, he took out a small box. He opened it slowly and revealed a pair of golden diamond studded earrings shaped as Arabian Jasmines, her favorite flower. A tear sploshed onto the ground, Draco unable to restrain that one tear in. He placed the box delicately next to the single flower placed by Daphne Greengrass and choked back a sob.

"I was going to give this to you for your birthday, but you won't be here for that, so I'm giving it to you here. I hope you like it," he uttered softly between sobs.

Behind him someone softly opened the door and made to step in, but hesitated, hearing Draco's mournful sadness. Then, the person quietly entered, watching and waiting to hear what Draco was going to say.

Draco pulled back from the casket and whispered gently, "I'll always love you, and I'll never forget you, Astoria." He crouched over the casket and bawled for the rest of the evening. Meanwhile the silent figure stepped into one of the aisles and sat down, weeping.

Hi all,

As you can see, this is the Prologue, which means there will be more. But I need reviews to know whether or not to continue. Please offer any thoughts you may have.

~Silver

ps-Thanks to Cherie (my close friend) and Heptagon for inspiring me and beta-ing my story so far.