|001.||Evidence||002.||I'm here||003.||Funeral||004.||Puppy love||005.||Gloves|
|026.||Writer's Choice||027.||Writer's Choice||028.||Writer's Choice||029.||Writer's Choice||030.||Writer's Choice|
Title : Day Late Friend
Characters : DHr
Rated : PG
Word Count : 766
Prompt : #20; Cry
Summing It Up : On the other side of the forest, Hermione stood in awe as she admired the majestic lake in front of her, the setting sun casting shades of orange and purple on the water.
A/N : SPOILERS!
FINALLY! I'm back with another DHr fic. Sorry to keep everyone waiting!
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Draco crouched down as his hand lay on the cool surface of the marble tombstone in front of him. He brought his forehead down onto his hand and began to knock against it, the edge of the tombstone cutting into his hand. Finally he stopped and rested his forehead on his hand, letting a wave of guilt wash over him as his eyes began to leak tears, his other hand tracing the fine inscription on the marble tombstone.
Draco slowly closed his eyes as he heard the soft crunching of leaves behind him come to a stop. Having someone in such close proximity of him when he was in such a vulnerable state made him feel a sudden surge of fear run through him.
“Draco?” a familiar voice behind him called out his name softly. “Draco, are you alright?”
Draco breathed in deeply before standing up and straightening himself, and inhaled sharply when he finally figured out to whom that voice belonged to.
Hermione Granger stood in front of him, her unruly brown curls held in place with a barrette. In one hand she held some of the biggest sunflowers he had ever seen, and in the other hand she held a huge assortment of daisies in such a spectrum of colors that he was sure she had used a charm of sorts to change the daisies’ colors. Draco eyed the flowers in her hands and gave her a questioning look.
“Sunflowers for Fred,” she raised her right hand, “and the daisies are for Tonks and Lupin. I hope they are okay.”
Draco quietly followed her to the row of tombstones towards the back of the cemetery, where three identical tombstones stood, the light gray marble glimmering in the setting sun. Hermione stopped and stood in front of the graves for a second before she lay the sunflowers and daises down. As she took a step back and admired the effect the various colors of the flowers brought to the otherwise gloomy graves, Draco realized that Hermione had tears streaming silently down her face.
She sniffled as she wiped away her tears, facing him. “I’m so sorry about that. It’s just that –”
“Wait; let me show you a place.” Draco beckoned to a confused looking Hermione as he strode towards a small forest at the corner of the graveyard. Shaking her head as a small smile etched upon her lips, she turned to follow him, quickening her steps to match Draco’s strides.
On the other side of the forest, Hermione stood in awe as she admired the majestic lake in front of her, the setting sun casting shades of orange and purple on the water. Hermione stood with her arms crossed, allowing the gentle autumn breeze to tickle her face as she breathed in deeply, immediately feeling more relaxed.
“Awesome place, isn’t it?” Draco’s voice interrupted her thoughts.
“How did you...?” she questioned him. Draco just smiled and shrugged. Both of them fell silent as they stared out into the lake, watching the ripples.
Hermione broke the silence. “Back there,” she said slowly, feeling uncomfortable. “That was Crabbe’s grave, wasn’t it?” She looked at him intently.
Draco’s chest rose and fell. “As opposed to what you Gryffindors thought, Crabbe was in no way just my ‘follower’ of sorts. He was a friend. Not a very bright one, I would admit. But he was one of my scarce number of friends back in Hogwarts,” he muttered bitterly, feeling a sudden surge of resentment towards the ‘Golden Trio’.
Hermione looked down as her cheeks became flushed. “Sorry,” she mumbled softly as she traced patterns in the dirt with the toe of her sneaker.
“So... how are things back at... you know,” Draco slowly asked, feeling sorry that he took her angry out at her initially.
“Things are just a mess. The whole Weasley household is a mess. Everyone’s devastated over losing Fred, especially poor George. He was the younger of the pair, and even though they are twins, George still regarded Fred as the older brother, the wiser one, the one he always relied on.” She had started crying again at this point, her tears flowing freely from her chocolate eyes. “And little Ted,” she continued bravely, even though her throat felt all chocked up, “he never got to know his parents. It like Harry all over again.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Draco said as he took her hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Everything’s going to be alright. Trust me.”
And he left his hand where it had been. And she never withdrew it.
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