Whiskey Lullaby

The rumors flew, but nobody knew how much she blamed herself

For years and years she tried to hide the whiskey on her breath

She finally drank her pain away, a little at a time

But she never could get drunk enough to get him off her mind

Until the night...

She put that bottle to her head and pulled the trigger

And finally drank away his memory

Life is short, but this time it was bigger

Then the strength she had to get up off her knees

We found her with her face down in the pillow

Clinging to his picture for dear life

We laid her next to him beneath the willow

While the angels sang a whiskey lullaby.

~Brad Paisley- Whiskey Lullaby

Hermione woke up one morning with the feeling that the day was going to be a hard one. Why? Well, for one, she had a dream about him again.

They had been in the library that day, studying as usual. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary as she met up with him in her private library room. They laughed, played around, kissed. Everything but what they were supposed to be doing: schoolwork.

When eight thirty rolled around, it was time for Hermione to leave for Gryffindor Tower. She told Draco she loved him, smiling sweetly. Oh, how she loved him. When she was around him, nothing else mattered. It was just the two of them. Her heart beat faster and slower at the same time. It didn't make any sense, and couldn't be explained. She just loved him.

Draco said nothing in reply, just pulled Hermione in for another kiss. It wasn't like his usual kisses; it tasted of sadness and she sensed a goodbye. Writing it off as just her imagination, Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back. After a few seconds, she pulled back, told him she'd see him tomorrow, and left.

She skipped her way to the Tower, feeling as joyful as she always did after she was with Draco. He could always calm her down after a fight with Ron, a stressful day of work, or after doing her Head Girl duties. He was the only person who could not only successfully sidetrack her, but make her not want to do her homework. It was scary yet thrilling at the same time.

Before Hermione knew it, she found herself standing in front of the portrait entrance to the Gryffindor common room. She said the password ("Polyjuice potion,") to the Fat Lady and gained access.

"Hey, Hermione!" Ron called to her, grinning happily from the armchairs by the fireplace with Harry and Ginny.

Another grin found its way onto her face as she plopped down onto the floor with her three closest friends. She noticed with a happy twinkle in her eyes that Harry and Ginny were holding hands.

"Have you finished your Charms report, Hermione?" Ron asked.

"Really, Ron! It's due tomorrow!"

"Exactly, which is why I need your help."

"It was assigned two weeks ago!" she huffed, but pulled out her Charms report anyway, which was eight inches longer than Professor Flitwick asked for.

"Merlin, Hermione! That's bloody long!" Ron exclaimed.

"Not to mention your writing is tiny," Harry added.

"Oh, hush," Hermione said, searching for her favorite quill. "Where is it? I could've sworn I packed it... I must've left it in the library." Addressing the others, Hermione informed them she was going to go back to the library to get her quill.

"All right. Hurry back," Ron said, getting to work on his Charms essay.

"And Ron, don't copy it word for word."

"I'm not."

"You are."

"How do you know?"

"Well, I didn't know we shared the name 'Hermione Granger,' for one."

Ron turned a shade of red and tore off the beginnings of his work, starting over.

Hermione giggled behind her hand, still in her good mood. She didn't know it was going to turn a complete one-eighty once she reached the library.

"I'll be right back," she told them, exiting through the portrait hole.

She hummed a soft tune absentmindedly as she made her way down the many steps. Since she was going to the library, she couldn't help but think of Draco. It happened every time she went there, with or without him. She couldn't help it. It was their place.

Hermione started down the corridor that led to the library, still humming. She stopped, however, once she opened the door to enter the relatively quiet place.

It was odd. She could have sworn she put her quill into her book bag. However, she had been so busy with Draco; she could have just thought she did, because she obviously didn't. He made her forget things when she was around him. She loved it. She loved him.

Hermione reached out to the door knob of her room and turned it, finding a surprise. Draco hadn't locked the room. He must've forgotten, because he always made sure he locked it up.

She shrugged and opened the door, knowing no one would have realized since no one really checked the back rooms. She was wrong.

As she was stepping in, Hermione heard a groan. Snapping her head to the sound, she saw a stark naked Parkinson over someone. The other person's hands were gripping Parkinson's waist, guiding her up and down, and in a circular motion.

"Oh! I'm sorry!" Hermione apologized, mortified. "I- I didn't mean to interrupt."

"Granger?! What are you doing here, Mudblood?" Pansy spat at her.

Hermione was very embarrassed, and she knew her cheeks were very red, for she felt them grow hotter as she tried to answer Pansy's question.

"I- my quill- I think I left it- there it is," she sputtered, seeing her quill on the table in the center of the room.

She went to retrieve it, being careful to avoid any activity- whether halted or not- that was going on.

She grasped the quill, ready to scurry out of the room when something caught her eye. Silvery blonde hair, that only one male in the school possessed.

Draco Malfoy.

"Draco?" she asked incredulously.

The man in question remained silent, only staring blankly at her.

"Draco? Since when is he 'Draco'?" Pansy asked.

However, Hermione paid no attention to Pansy. Truth be told, she didn't even hear her over the own nervous pounding of her heart as her eyes started to fill with unshed tears, looking at Draco.

"What's going on?" she asked softly.

Draco didn't reply, but Pansy apparently had something to say.

"Nothing, now that you've so rudely interrupted us," Pansy spat. "What does it look like?"

Again, Hermione ignored her. She wasn't stupid. She knew what was going on. How could he do this to her?

"How could you? I trusted you. I loved you," she hissed.

Not giving Draco- or Pansy- time to respond, Hermione turned sharply and ran out, heading to her Head Girl quarters. She couldn't face her friends.

Hermione threw herself on her bed, burying her face in a pillow as cries of pain wracked her small, delicate frame.

How could he? He told her he loved her. Didn't he mean it?

Of course not. He wouldn't have shagged Pansy if he loved her. If he did, he wouldn't have hurt her like that.

Hermione clutched her pillow. Nothing made sense! How could Draco do this to her? After all this time... over a year... Was she not good enough for him?

Of course you weren't, said a nasty little voice in her head that sounded unmistakably like Pansy's. You're a Mudblood. What made you think you were ever good enough for him? For a Malfoy? You're pathetic.

Was it because she wouldn't shag him? He'd always smile, kiss her, and tell her it was okay.

"When you're ready, I'll be too," he used to say. "Loving you and having you love me back is enough."

Do you really believe that? the Pansy voice asked. If that was true, then why was he with me, huh? You heard his moans of pleasure. You saw him involved.

Stop it, stop it! Hermione scolded herself, burying the annoying, hurtful Pansy voice in the back of her head. Just stop it.

Hermione hiccupped and felt something nuzzle her neck. She turned around and was faced with a purring ginger-haired cat. Crookshanks.

She reached her hand out and scratched his ears. He purred louder and pressed his head into her hand as a sign of enjoyment, and encouragement to keep going.

A watery smile showed on Hermione's lips as she rolled Crookshanks over and began to rub his belly.

Maybe it won't be so hard, she thought. Maybe I can get over Draco. I mean, he's only a guy.

But even as she thought it, Hermione knew she was lying. He wasn't just a guy; he was the first guy she'd ever loved. Getting over him wouldn't be easy. She wondered if she ever would.

"That's it, Hermione," she said to herself, sitting up. "It's okay to feel hurt. Your heart may be broken, but you cannot stop living."

With that said, she stood up, straightened out her shirt, and went to the bathroom to wash her face.

She was going to go to the Gryffindor Tower and help Ron with his Charms assignment, just like she'd planned.

Drying off from her shower, Hermione remembered going to the Tower that day as she got dressed.

She paused in front of the Fat Lady. She took a deep breath before saying the password and gaining access.

Okay, Hermione, she thought as she spotted the three and started over to them. Don't let them know anything is wrong. Just act normal. Don't let them know anything is-

"What's wrong, Hermione?" Ginny asked.

Hermione let out her breath loudly in a sigh, annoyed. Was she that easy to read?

"Nothing. What makes you ask?"

"Well, for one," Ginny started, "it took you well over fifteen minutes to only get your quill back, and your eyes are a bit red and just a teeny bit puffy."

Ugh, Hermione thought.

"I don't know," she lied, shrugging. "Ron, have you finished your Charms, or do you still need help?"

Even as Hermione helped Ron with his essay, Ginny watched her carefully, wondering what on earth had her best friend crying and lying to her about.

The gloomy feeling Hermione had was still there. It wouldn't go away.

She shrugged it off, heading downstairs for some breakfast. Her parents weren't home; they were on their second honeymoon. They were hesitant on leaving their only daughter home for a week, since they had noticed her dark mood since she had finished school. However, she assured them she would be fine, and they left early that morning.

She found herself looking through possible breakfast for about five minutes until she realized she wasn't in the least bit hungry.

Hermione threw down the box of cereal she was considering with a sigh. What was wrong with her? She always ate breakfast.

It was that damn feeling. What was it about, and how come she couldn't shake it off? It was annoying her, and badly.

Finally, she decided to just read for a bit. Retrieving her favorite book, The Scarlet Letter, from her room, she plopped down on the couch and found her place in the book. She began to read.

She had only read about two chapters when she heard a knock at her door. Perplexed, Hermione stared at it. She wasn't expecting any company.

Marking her place in the book, she walked to the door, placing her hand on her pocket to insure herself that her wand was indeed there, should she have the need for it. With that in mind, Hermione twisted the knob and opened the door to see...

Draco?

No, it couldn't be. But there he was, standing on the porch of her house, knocking at the door.

She knew he was here to try to get her back. But she couldn't allow it. Even though her heart ached for him, her lips craved his, her body needed his touch... She couldn't let it happen. He hurt her too much. She wouldn't listen. Even though she loved him.

"Oh Hermione, thank-"

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?"

Draco looked like he expected this, and kept going.

"I came to talk to you. I wanted-"

Hermione kept repeating 'be strong' to herself in her head, unwilling to allow herself to hear Draco out. So she interrupted him.

"Now you want to talk? After what you did? Not a chance in hell, Malfoy."

Hermione wanted to leave it like that and tried to close the door. However, Draco was both stubborn and persistent (just like her), and moved his foot in the path of the door, successfully preventing it from closing.

"Hermione, please," Draco said, beginning to sound frantic. "I'm sorry. But you've got to understand-"

"I understand perfectly, Malfoy," Hermione said, her voice sounding hurt even to her own ears. "I was nothing but a game to you. You never loved me. It was all a lie. You weren't getting it from me, so you got it from Parkinson, of all people."

"No, Hermione, that's not it. That's not it at all," Draco denied.

Hermione tried her best to ignore the sound of truth in his voice and tried to stop herself from wanting to listen to what he had to say. It was hard. Very hard.

"Malfoy, please. Don't do this," Hermione begged. "Don't insult me with your lies any more. I've had enough of them. You can go and have a good laugh with your mates now, because you've won. I love you. Loved," she corrected.

"Hermione-" Draco tried again, sounding desperate now.

"That isn't enough? Okay, I'll give you more. I lied to all of my friends, making up excuses for what I was doing when I was with you. I've never lied to my friends until you. I actually trusted you. I thought you'd changed. Hogwarts smartest witch, Head Girl Hermione Granger, fell for your lies and your charms. I actually fell in love with you, and allowed you to break me," Hermione said dejectedly. "But I'm done, Draco. I'm done. Please don't try to contact me any more."

And Hermione closed the door in his face. She closed the door on them.

Hermione turned and leaned against the door, sliding down until she was sitting on the floor. She hugged her knees to her chest as the tears cascaded down her cheeks.

That was it. No more Draco. It was over and done with.

Hermione was helpless. She couldn't stop the tears and a whimper escaped her lips.

"Draco..."

It took all the willpower Hermione had not to hear him out. It took even more not to open the door and call him back. Her dark angel. This wouldn't be easy.

Knowing she needed a way to get him off her mind, Hermione decided to call Harry at the Burrow. Since they've gotten out of school, Harry had gotten his own apartment in Muggle London and his own cell phone. She could call him and tell him, Ron, and Ginny to apparate over to her house.

"Hello?" Harry asked once he picked up the phone.

"Harry? It's Hermione."

"Hey, Herm. How's the house?"

"Lonely," she said quietly. "Can you, Ron, and Ginny come over?"

"Ginny, you and Ron want to go to Herm's house?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, sure," Hermione heard Ginny's voice in the background.

"Okay, Herm, you're on. When?"

"Now is fine. Whenever you're ready. And you can apparate straight into my living room."

"Okay," Harry said.

Hermione heard him talking to people, undoubtedly Ron and Ginny in the background, but she couldn't make out what they were saying.

"Okay, we'll be there in three," Harry started. "Two..."

Pop.

"One," said a voice behind Hermione that belonged to none other then Harry.

Hermione hung up the phone, and with a smile, hugged him hard.

"How is everything?" he asked when she let go.

Not wanting to lie anymore but not wanting to tell the truth either, Hermione countered, "Me? How's everything with you?"

Her voice was a bit shaky, but Harry didn't seem to notice. That was not to say Ginny didn't, though.

"Better, now that I don't have to live with the Dursleys," Harry replied.

Once Hermione greeted her other two friends, they all sat down to watch some television.

"The Scarlet Letter?" Ron asked, picking up her book.

"Yes. It's my favorite."

"Good book. About Forbidden Love," Ginny said with a pointed look to Hermione, which made her shift uncomfortably in her seat.

"Hmm. I'm hungry," Ron said.

"We just ate half an hour ago!" Harry exclaimed.

"Yeah, well, I'm hungry again," Ron mumbled.

"You know where the kitchen is," Hermione said with a smile as Ron got up.

"I'd better go with him. Make sure he doesn't eat everything you've got," Harry said, rolling his eyes.

"Hey!" Ron said indignantly as they made their way to the kitchen.

"So," Ginner said, her tone investigative.

"So?" Hermione responded, swallowing heavily.

"I don't like beating around the bush, so I'll get straight to the point. What did Malfoy do to you?"

Hermione choked on her own saliva, shocked.

"W-what?" she coughed.

"Yes, I know. It's hard not to. Whenever Malfoy's mentioned, your ears perk up and you defend him more than just being fair. When you're in the Great Hall for meals, you two were always looking at each other wistfully. Then you return from the library way longer than it takes to get a quill, with your eyes all puffy and red, like they are now, I might add. You start acting differently, and lose weight. For Merlin's sake, you even stopped going to the library so much, which I'm going to guess was your meeting spot with him. After that, even Malfoy started acting strange. He insulted us as usual, but his heart didn't seem to be in it, he was meaner to Parkinson than usual- he wouldn't even sit next to her, and if she tried to, he nearly bit her head off, he just seemed so disgusted with her- and he was always looking at you sadly. So that leads me to believe you found him doing something with Parkinson, most likely shagging, because you were avoiding him like the plague. If you caught them, that means it was in the library in that room of yours. How right am I?"

"Right on target," Hermione said truthfully.

"Am I good or what?" Ginny smirked.

"You're very observant."

"I am. So now, why were you crying today?" Ginny asked, leaning forward.

With a sigh, Hermione told her everything. About Draco's visit, about his apology, and his seemingly sincerity.

"I'm proud of you," Ginny said to Hermione once she had finished. "I know that took a lot of strength."

"It'll be a bit easier, now that I have someone to talk to about it. Someone who knows," Hermione admitted.

"Why didn't you just tell me in the first place?" Ginny asked.

"We'd promised to keep it quiet because of what would happen. If someone found out, we couldn't be together. And I loved him, Ginny. And when it ended, I felt so stupid and ashamed. I couldn't tell Ron and Harry or they'd flip out, and... I was scared."

Ginny pulled Hermione into a gentle, comforting hug.

"You'll get through it," she promised, wiping away Hermione's tears. "It'll be hard, but I'll help. You'll get through this."

"Ginny, the worse part is that... I still love him," Hermione said with a sob. "I didn't want to admit it to myself, but I do. I still love Draco Malfoy."

Ginny hugged her again, hurting for her best friend. How dare Malfoy do this to her!

"Here," she said, pulling out her wand. With a flick of her wrist and a simple spell, all traces of Hermione's tears were gone.

"Thanks," Hermione said.

"No problem. Can't have the boys see you crying, can we? Ron's brain might seize up."

The girls giggled lightly, and the boys came into the kitchen with big sandwiches along with a pop of soda, pickles, chips, and coleslaw.

"Harry, love, I think you're spending too much time with Ron," Ginny said, laughing behind her hand.

"Hey! Shu' u' 'inny," Ron said around his mouthful of sandwich, causing Hermione to laugh lightly.

Harry both visibly and audibly swallowed his food before speaking to Hermione.

"Herm, are you okay?"

"Yeah," she lied. "What makes you ask?"

With a shrug, Harry replied, "You just seem a little sad. Maybe it's just me."

And with her three best friends, Hermione began the road to recovery. Or so she thought.

She made it through the week a bit easier now that she had Ginny to talk to. Her friend helped her forget about Draco, and feel at least a bit at peace with her decision of turning him away. But all that went down the drain that evening.

Hermione's parents finally got back from their vacation earlier that day. They had made a big deal over Hermione, asking her if she had eaten well and the like, until Hermione reminded them that she was eighteen.

As of now, Hermione and her parents, Ron, Harry, and Ginny were seated in the living room looking at pictures from the honeymoon.

"This looks lovely, mum. I'm sure you had a wonderful time," Hermione said.

"Oh, we did, dear. It was marvelous," her father replied before the bell rang.

Perplexed, her father looked at the door. Ginny and Hermione shared a worried glance.

"I'll get it," Ginny volunteered, standing up.

"Nonsense, dear," Hermione's mother said. "I'll get it."

Ginny sat down slowly, still looking at her worried friend. Hermione felt dread creeping into her as her mother's footsteps faded away.

Hermione barely heard her mother's voice and couldn't make out what she was saying. However, a man's angry and rising voice was clearly distinguishable. A voice that all four schoolmates knew very well.

Harry's head shot up to look at the owner of the fast approaching steps with suspicion, hate, and alertness.

The man, however, paid no attention to Harry as he lifted a shaking finger at Hermione.

"You," he hissed. "This is all your fault!"

"What?" Hermione asked, bewildered.

"It's all your damned fault, you filthy little-"

"Lucius, get a hold of yourself," a small, delicate woman demanded gently.

"Get a hold...? Narcissa, this is the Mudblood who-"

"Lucius-"

"How can you be so calm, after what has happened? He is my son!"

"He is my son as much as yours, Lucius, if not more so," Narcissa said, her voice taking on an angry edge. "I am just as upset as you are, but acting this way will establish nothing."

"What are you talking about? And who are you?" Hermione's father asked, eyeing the two intruders.

"The Malfoys," Harry growled, wand at the ready.

"You think you can duel me, foolish boy?" Lucius sneered at Harry.

"I have before and I've lived to tell the tale," Harry retorted, his grip on his wand firmer.

Lucius just held his sneer on Harry for a second or two more before his attention turned back to Hermione.

"You killed him," he said simply, but the venom in his voice did not go unnoticed.

"What are you talking about? Who did she kill?" Ron asked, taking his spot by Harry's side, wand also raised. Hermione looked at Ginny whose hand was resting on what was undoubtedly her wand.

"My son. You killed my son," Lucius clarified, his gaze never moving from Hermione, who froze at his words.

"W-what?"

"Look at this!" he spat, throwing a piece of parchment at her.

Hermione hesitantly took the parchment, unsure if she wanted to read whatever words it held. She did, however, and her eyes scanned the letter over about three times.

No. It couldn't be. He wouldn't. It wasn't. She was so sure...

It was all her fault. If only she'd listened to him then! Would he still have been...?

Hermione snapped back to reality when someone turned her around and pulled her into a hug. She found herself smothered with fiery red hair and realized Ginny must have read the note over her shoulder.

"It's my fault," was all she could get out.

"You're damned right, it's your fault," Lucius snapped.

Hermione was in shock. She couldn't believe it. Her lover. Her everything... Her Dark Angel was dead. Because of her. He didn't kill himself. She killed him.

"Hermione? What is he talking about?" Hermione's mother asked.

"Yeah, Herm, what's going on? What's on that parchment?" Ron asked suspiciously.

"Draco..."

"How dare you speak his name from your dirty lips? How dare you-" Lucius started, only to be interrupted by his wife.

"Enough," she said hollowly. Her cheeks were red as were her eyes, which were also puffy. She had obviously been crying.

"Hermione, what's going on?" Harry asked sharply.

"I killed Draco," she answered.

"Yes you did, you-"

"She did no such thing!" Ginny interrupted loudly. "You killed him! You killed him when you gave him those orders!"

"How dare-"

"She is right, Lucius," Narcissa said quietly.

"What?" Lucius hissed to his wife.

"He was happy. Why couldn't you have just let him be?"

"He is better than her! She isn't fit to lick the mud off his shoes-"

"Yet she's got more N.E.W.T.s than you've got O.W.L.s, right, Malfoy?" Ginny snarled.

Hermione, oblivious to this spat due to her being in her state of shock, slowly sat back down. She had killed him. If only she had let him come in that day. If only she had heard him out. He'd still be alive. What had she done?

"It is not your fault, Miss Granger," Narcissa said, bending down gracefully so she was at eye-level with Hermione while laying a hand on her knee. "It is not your fault," she repeated.

"How can you say that? Draco came here to speak to me. He told me I didn't understand what happened at all. And I turned him away. What did I do?" Hermione sobbed, though tears had yet to spill from her chocolate brown eyes.

"Listen, Miss Granger - may I call you Hermione?" Narcissa asked. When she received a nod from the girl, she continued, voice stern. "It is not your fault. You did the opposite of killing him. You made him alive. When he visited during holidays, he was glowing. There was a sparkle in his eyes that was nothing but love. You did not kill him."

"But Mrs. Malfoy, he came to see me. If I'd only heard him out, he'd still be alive! It's all my fault!"

"Hermione, what-" Harry started, but was gently hushed by Ginny.

"No, dear. My husband established that on his own."

"Narcissa - " Lucius began sharply.

"I don't want to hear it anymore, Lucius. You cannot blame this innocent young woman for your mistake. You always did the opposite of what was best for our son. You wanted him to become a Death Eater. I did not. You never included me in the life you were planning for our son, Lucius. You did not care for him. If you did, why did you take away from him the only one he ever loved?"

"She is a Mudblood-"

"Is her blood any thinner than ours, Lucius? It matters not of where you've gotten your abilities, but what you do and where you go with them. Our views are very different, Lucius, and I am no longer playing the role of the perfect Pureblood wife. You were wrong, Lucius. You made a big mistake, and our son has paid for it. With his life." She paused. "And no amount of Dark blood rituals can undo the damage you've caused. Not even your perfect Master can."

Lucius said nothing, just started at his wife in shock. This was most unlike her. He couldn't believe it.

Hermione shook her head lightly. "He's gone," she whispered.

"He is," Narcissa agreed somberly.

"Mrs. Malfoy, I want you to know... I loved your son. I love him. I tried to hide it and I tried to deny it, but I knew I was just lying to myself. I will always love Draco."

With a smile, Narcissa replied, "Of that, I have no doubt."

"Hermione, what is going on? What are you talking about? You love Malfoy?" Ron asked sharply.

Hermione looked over at Ron who looked confused, to Harry who looked betrayed, and to Ginny who looked sympathetic. She sighed heavily, rubbing her temples.

"Ron, I-"

"So that's what you've been up to," Harry said, sounding hurt. "All this time... and that's what you were doing."

"Harry, I-"

"How could you, Hermione? Malfoy? After all he's done?"

"There's more to Draco than meets the eye, Harry. You only see what he allows you to see."

"Hermione, you were involved with Malfoy?"

"Yes, Ron," Harry answered. "You seem to be taking this quite well, Ginny," he said suspiciously.

"I've known since last week," she admitted. "Actually, I found out, but I've known."

"And you didn't tell us?" Ron questioned, getting angry.

"It wasn't my business to tell."

"When were you planning on telling us, Hermione?" Harry asked. "Or were you going to keep it from us?"

"We were planning on telling everyone after the school year ended," Hermione looked at Lucius before she continued, "so his father couldn't do anything to Draco. So he wouldn't have control."

"How could you keep this from us?! You lied to us, Hermione! All this time, and you made up excuses and lies. For Malfoy!"

"I loved him, Harry! And I didn't want to lose him! I knew if I told you, you'd act like this and I'd lose him. But I did anyway. To death," she added quietly, looking down at her hands.

"Hermione, honey, what...?" Hermione's mother trailed off, looking bewildered.

Knowing it was time to explain, Hermione sighed and put her head in her hands. She was about to start when she felt a hand on her knee. She looked up and saw Ginny looking at her, and Hermione understood. She'd tell the story for her.

And so Ginny began. She told the six others in the living room everything that happened between the two lovers. She told them all that Hermione had told her through the week, which was everything.

As she spoke, everyone, even Lucius, had their complete attention on Ginny. No one made a sound. The house was unusually quiet. The only sound that could be heard was Ginny's voice as she relieved Hermione of the burden of speaking the past.

"...and now, we've got this news," Ginny finished, and everyone knew she meant the news of Draco's suicide.

"He meant what he said, Hermione," Narcissa said, eyes sparkling with unshed tears. "'I'll love you till I die.'"

Thanks to Ginny, Ron and Harry weren't as angry with her as they were before. They realized that the young Weasley was right. Hermione would need their support now more than ever.

"Where are you going to bury him?" Hermione asked quietly, finally breaking her silence.

"Dumbledore has offered a spot at Hogwarts. He said it was Draco's favorite place," Narcissa answered.

"Under the willow in the garden," Hermione said with a nod. "He'd spend hours there. Sometimes we'd lie there for the longest of times in a comfortable silence. He loved it there."

"I wasn't aware we were going to accept that offer, Narcissa," Lucius said stiffly.

"We are. I am finally making the decisions for my son, Lucius. I am not asking for your input. Hermione, do you think that is a good place for him?"

Hermione nodded. "The best."

"Then it's settled," Narcissa said with a nod.

"How did Dumbledore know if Draco only passed away today?" Hermione's mother asked.

"Dumbledore knows everything," Harry replied, and the others who knew the man agreed. All for except Lucius, who remained silent.

"When?" Hermione asked.

"Saturday," Narcissa answered.

"Wow," she said. "Two days from now."

"We'll get through it, Herm. We're here for you," Ginny consoled, putting her arm around her sad friend.

"I can't believe he's gone," Hermione repeated for what must have been the millionth time.

"I know. I know," Narcissa replied sadly.

Hermione went to bed that night in a daze. How she wished it was all a dream. How she wished he was still alive.

Why would he do that? It made no sense. Just for her? Why did he have to do that? And why didn't she just hear him out? Oh, how she regretted that!

It was hard to believe that he was gone. He'd never come back. He'd never grace the world with his presence. He'd never smile at her again. He'd never tell her he loved her and kiss her so intensely again. He'd never hold her in his arms again.

And Hermione? She'd never be complete again.

When Saturday morning arrived, she got up and went to the shower. She didn't sleep well. Hell, she didn't sleep at all. If she dozed off, her dreams were plagued with visions of Draco.

When she finished her shower, she went into her closet and picked out a black dress with black heels. She looked at the mirror and noticed that she looked like a widow.

In a way, she was.

Hermione didn't even remember how she arrived at the castle, but there she was, standing with her friends and parents at the gates of Hogwarts.

They all walked to the place where the funeral was being held and saw a beautiful mahogany casket at the front. Arranged in aisles where white fold up chairs, except for three in front, which were big, velvet, black chairs.

Hermione began to take a seat in one of the white chairs when someone grabbed her elbow.

"No, Hermione," Narcissa said. "There's a seat for you up front."

Narcissa led her to a black chair up front and sat her down.

"This wasn't necessary," Hermione said quietly.

"Yes, it was," Narcissa said with a weak but gentle smile. "We start in ten minutes." And with that, she walked away, leaving Hermione by herself.

The chairs were filled. Draco had many people coming to pay their respects. None of them, though, were even near as close as she was to Draco.

It was an open-casket, but Hermione had carefully avoided looking into it. She could not see him yet.

All too soon, it was time to start. Lucius and Narcissa took their places in the remaining two black seats as the minister began to speak.

Hermione couldn't make out what he was saying. The ringing in her ears was too loud. She couldn't concentrate. All she could think about was, that was Draco in the casket. He was there because of her. No matter what anyone said, he was in there because of her. And she wanted nothing more than to crawl up inside that casket with him.

And then, it was over. The minister left and people made their way to the front for a final goodbye. Many sent questioning glances and glares at Hermione for being there, but she paid them no attention. Her eyes were on that casket. She had yet to look inside.

After a while, everyone was gone. It was Wizarding custom to allow the immediate family to be alone during the burial, but Narcissa invited Hermione and the others to stay, and they accepted.

"Go on, Hermione," Narcissa said, motioning to the casket. Hermione took a deep breath and got up.

Slowly, she walked towards the casket. She caught a glimpse of platinum blonde hair, and it suddenly became real.

Draco was dead. It was him in that casket.

Hermione threw herself at him, tears beginning to stream down her face. His beautiful pale skin and his silky locks. If she had not known any better, she would have sworn he was sleeping.

"Open your eyes!" she screamed at him. "Get up! How dare you leave me! Get the hell up, Malfoy! You can't leave me like this. Wake up! Draco, please! I love you, do you hear me? I love you! Wake up!"

Her parents, friends, and Narcissa watched with tearing eyes. Ginny turned around and buried her face into Harry's chest, not being able to watch as her best friend collapsed, sobbing uncontrollably.

Ron was wiping at his eyes, trying to dry away his tears. Harry, however, didn't even bother as the salt hit his lips. Hermione's parents were going through torture, watching their little girl carrying on like this. Narcissa was crying for the love that could have been so much more had her husband not intervened.

And Lucius. He stood there, face of stone, watching Hermione with a cold indifference. Everyone would have thought he didn't care if it hadn't been for the tears running down his cheeks.

Hermione would never forget that day. She thought of it often. It never gave her any peace, especially since she still blamed herself for his death.

There were rumors about how Draco died, and why Hermione was there. But she didn't care.

She had moved from her house and got her own apartment. Things had changed for her a lot. The girl who once would never drink more than two butterbeers was now downing three bottles of Fire Whiskey within two days.

Two years. Two years had passed since the funeral, and Hermione thought about it every day. If she had just heard him out, he'd be in this lonely flat with her. But he was dead. And it was her fault.

And so Hermione drank. But no matter how hard she tried, the whiskey could not purge Draco from her mind. Nor could it take away the desire- the need- to be with him again.

It came to her. She knew what she had to do. The only way to be with him again was to go to him.

Hermione grabbed the picture off her beside table and stared at it. Picture Draco looked up at her, smiling. When he noticed her bloodshot eyes and glazed look, his smile disappeared and he looked concerned.

"I'm coming, Draco. Wait for me."

The alcohol was heavy in her system. If she drank anymore, it would wash away everything, and she'd be free to be with her lover.

Hermione drank. She guzzled down as much as she could till her vision got blurry and the bottle of Fire Whiskey slipped from her hands.

"I'm coming," was the last thing she said to the picture before she collapsed on her bed.

*****

Ginny had a bad feeling that night. She insisted to Harry that they go check on Hermione. Giving in to his wife's wishes, Harry apparated with her to Hermione's flat that night and found the front door unlocked. It wasn't like Hermione. They began to get worried and started to call out her name.

Getting no response, Harry checked the bathroom while his wife went to Hermione's bedroom. Harry heard Ginny's loud gasp and ran to investigate.

There was Hermione, face down in her pillow. She was clutching a picture of Draco in her hands, and empty bottles of whiskey everywhere.

Ginny began to sob hysterically, and Harry looked on in shock. Hermione... She was gone. Just like Draco.

And suddenly, it was Saturday at the gardens of Hogwarts, and they were looking into the casket that held Hermione.

Tears were shed, and Narcissa was held in the arms of her husband, standing by Hermione's body.

Unlike the Wizarding customs, everyone was allowed to stay for the burial. Everyone watched in tears as Hermione was buried beneath the willow, right next to the one whom she loved. To death.

As everyone watched the lowering casket, no one saw a figure in white clasp the hand of a figure in dark by the white roses.

Forever.