5Disclaimer: I'm a college student. I can barely afford food much less the the rights to HP.
It was threatening to rain.
Winter was finally rearing its ugly head. The wind was whipping his cloak and the air was steadily growing colder. The grove of trees he stood in protected him from the brunt of the wind, but he gathered his cloak closer anyway.
No one came to this side of the cemetery, he wasn't entirely sure why, but he had ideas. After this entire grove was dedicated to the memory of those who had died in the-war-that-no-one-wanted-to-remember, and guarded their last resting place.
He had known most of the people buried here: Colin Creevey, Nymphadora Tonks, Remus Lupin, Severus was buried not far from here at the insistence of The-Boy-Who-Survived.
The oak trees were old he wasn't sure how old. The Celtics thought that Oak trees were doors to other worlds, heaven maybe. "Are you happy there, love?" he asked quietly as he walked through the ancients. "Are you watching me?"
The war had been over for less than a year, just reaching the six month mark. Harry Potter had succeeded in defeating the Dark Lord of the age.
Voldemort was dead. The bane of the Wizarding world was dead.
And everyone was rebuilding.
Potter and his girlfriend, Weasley's sister-Ginny was her name, right? - had just announced their engagement last week. He was happy for his friend. Potter had asked him to be one of his groomsmen.
"Surprising isn't it, love? That I would that I would be come friends with someone I once hated." He whispered to the wind. He was almost there, the trees where older in this section, their leaves whispering in the cool air.
Around the last bend stood the grave marker, if it was not so sad it would have been beautiful. Two oaks stood on either side of a life-sized lion carved out of pure white marble and nestled between the great beast's paws was….a book.
Silently, reverently, he knelt before the stone. Carved into the cold stone page was her name….
Hermione Astraea Granger, 1980 to 1998. A lioness to all who knew her, whose love knew no bounds.
Silently he took his wand out of his back pocket and muttered the spell he knew so well now, he could do it in his sleep. Liles appeared in his hand. Her favorite. He thought as placed the flowers before the book.
The grass had grown back over where the dirt had been dug. The magic of the place and those in its keeping kept it green all year around. He still hated to think of that day.
That was the last time he had cried. Now thinking back to the day of funeral, he wasn't sure if he could keep from doing it now.
"You know I hate cemeteries, love, you find ways to get to me even after your…." He couldn't say 'death' it still hurt. Who ever said 'time heals all wounds' must have been a real idiot. Six months sure as hell hadn't healed him.
"Potter is getting married you know, to Ginny just like you said they would. The wedding is next summer. Potter asked me to be in the wedding." He talked quietly almost whispered. If he talked any louder he was sure his voice would crack.
How his father would scold him now how mourning over someone, his father had thought beneath them, too bad Lucius was dead. Weasley had killed him after his father had killed Hermione and after she had killed Rodolphus, Fenrir Greyback and Antonin Dolohov in one fatal swipe.
If it had been up to him his father could have just rotted where he lay, but his mother had insisted that they bury him in the family mausoleum on the manor grounds.
His mother was also one of the few who knew about these little trips to the cemetery.
If he had his way she wouldn't have been there. The Battle of Hogwarts had not ended well. Draco knew he had killed his once fellow Death Eaters, but after seeing her fall his mind had gone blank and he did not remember much.
Potter said they had found him holding her in his arms after the battle. In the silence a presence made its self known
"Whoever you are, come out now before I hex you into the next century" The dragon spoke without moving from his place. If there was one even tiny good thing that had come out of the war, it was the fact that no one would be able to sneak up on him ever again.
"Relax, Malfoy. I'm not going to kill you. You're not the only one who has friends and loved ones to visit here."
It was Weasley. Figures.
After everything he and the Weasel as he still occasionally called him, still hated each other. Ok, maybe hate was a little too strong a word after all that had happened: they both immensely disliked each other, there that was better.
Weasley was standing behind him now. Looking at the book lain between the paws of the lion.
After a pause Weasley spoke, "You know, I've always wondered where you disappeared to. Your hardly ever seem to be at the Ministry anymore"
He shrugged; so he took more days off than anyone else. The wizarding world was beginning to stand again with all the money he had donated helping it.
In a lower voice he spoke again. "She was our sweetheart; the true heart of our 'Golden Trio', she… she was what kept the Gryffindors together at the end.
"I loved her, but she loved you more Malfoy. I haven't a clue in nine hells what she saw in you, but she must have seen something worth while because, Merlin knew, she didn't just trust anyone."
Draco stood silently. Weasley wasn't telling him anything he didn't know. He knew Hermione had been hesitant in doing anything outside her comfort zones. Merlin, it had taken forever just to convince her that he wasn't going to run out on her. That he wasn't just the Slytherin prince just playing with the little Gryffindor princess's trust for his amusement.
Trust.
No body except Potter and a few others trusted him anymore. Sure he had betrayed Voldemort, but still he had taken the Mark. He had killed.
Look at what happened to Severus. Sure his godfather would have never admitted it, but he had always guessed it must have hurt Severus on some level to be one of the most hated people; to be remembered as the man who killed Dumbledore.
"Who are you here to visit Weasley?" he asked after a space.
"Fred. It's Thursday. I always visit on Thursdays." It seemed like Weasley was doing well. Trying not to forget yet move on at the same time. At least he knew when he was going to come. Draco was never sure when he would end up here.
"You know, Weasley, she was always better than the rest of us. She wasn't Gryffindor; she wasn't Slytherin, or HufflePuff or Ravenclaw, though Merlin knows she should have been. She was everything wrapped into one. She was Hogwarts." His eyes teared up thinking of the witch who had made him hope again; her wavy hair; her brown doe eyes; her small knowing smile.
She had been brave, smart as a whip, loyal to a fault and was cunning in a way, he had only seen in the best of Slytherins (one of which was himself naturally.)
He looked at Weasley for the first time since the weasel had arrived and wasn't surprised to see the approval on his face.
"You know she wouldn't like seeing you like this, sad and hovering."
"I know Weasley, but you have your way of dealing with it and I have mine. Now scram before someone sees us having a civil conversation." he drawled, smirking his trademark smirk
Weasel snorted and rolled his eyes. A flower appeared in his hand and slowly he knelt and placed it on the stone pages of the book. He turned a nodded to him before leaving him to sit in silence.
Once he was sure Weasley was gone, He turned and sat before the lion again. "And I have to plan a bachelor party with him, the gods must love me." He joked quietly.
He lost track of how long he sat there talking of everything and anything. It felt good. It felt like she was still there with him; Even if only in spirit.
It was the rain that drove him away. His mother would fuss if he caught a cold and he figured Hermione would have too.
The storm was in full force by the time he had gone home. His mother lightly scolded him for walking in the rain. He let her. She understood where he had been and why.
After all he wasn't the only one who suffered.
He said goodnight to his mother and pressed a small kiss against her cheek having to been down to do it having grown as tall if not a few inches taller than his father.
His nightly ritual was the same as usually was. After he dismissed Sunny, his favorite of the house elves that served him, he had a glass of scotch as he read though the mail that he missed while out.
As he crawled into bed as closed his eyes and drifted off he felt the slightest of pressure, not unlike a pair of lips, against his forehead, and the barest of whispers of I love you always, before falling to the realm of sleep with the first hint of smile in months upon his face.
Sphinx here,
Yeah I changed a few things to suit my purpose. Astraea was a goddess of justice. A lily symbolizes purity, while oaks were thought by celts to be doors between worlds. I will be posting a companion piece to this soon!
Please review!