Disclaimer: Not Mine
Hermione stared at the gravestone before falling to her knees, not aware that the ground was muddy from rain. She read the inscription for what seemed to be the millionth time.
Draco Malfoy Beloved husband
They'd asked her what she wanted the headstone to read and she told them just that. It told the world exactly what he was to her. No poetry or quotes. Draco was a straightforward and direct person; that was one of the things Hermione loved about him. Hermione tried to hold back the tears. She was a grown woman; she didn't need to do this, but seeing the grave for the first time after his death seemed to be too much for her to handle. She put her head in her hands and started crying. The tears only lasted for a short moment before anger replaced them. Anger at Lucius for murdering her husband, because of his rage that Draco married a Mudblood and turned his back on his father. Anger at Draco for leaving her in a world that seemed so vacant and dark without him.
"How could you!" she screamed into the wind and pounded her fists against the cold edge of stone. "How could you leave me here? Do you remember how happy we were? Don't you know how happy we could've been? Damn you!"
No one answered. There was no one there. Hermione slumped against Draco's headstone in defeat. She began to shake and if anyone had seen her then they would have thought she was crying, but she wasn't. Sometimes when she thought about all she lost so quickly her grief surpassed tears and it was simply something that ached inside her, nearly consuming her. She wondered if she would've been consumed by it if it hadn't been for her family and friends. Ron and Harry, though they never liked Draco, were with her nearly every day to help strengthen her hold on sanity.
They didn't help all the time, though. As she leaned against the icy stone, shuddering with anguish, she wondered how people could say she would get over it with time. Nothing could make her get over Draco's death. When they first fell in love the road to happiness was hard and strenuous, but once they got past the obstacles it was pure joy. Of course they argued … all the time actually, but they always made up. Hermione smiled slightly as she thought of how they made up. One could not have a love like that taken away and just get over it. It wasn't possible.
Hermione lay down on top of where Draco was buried. She watched the stars come out after being behind the rain clouds. She wondered if Draco could see her now. She wondered what he would say about strong Hermione breaking down. He'd tell her to get back up. He'd tell her to keep going.
"Sometimes its so hard," she whispered, though she didn't think he could hear her from wherever he was, be it Heaven or some empty place. "I feel so lost."
What would he say then? He had never seen her this lost before.
"I had plans for us Draco. I wanted us to have children and have a happily ever after ending. This isn't the way it's supposed to be. You need two people for a happily ending, not one. Never one."
She knew she sounded crazy. Lying on someone's grave and muttering to them about broken dreams, but she couldn't help it.
"I hope you're happy where you are, because I'm not."
Hermione could almost feel his fingertips dancing along her skin and his breath against her ear, whispering to her. That was stupid; she'd never feel that again. She fantasized about their last night together. She recalled it so vividly it seemed real; his lips caressing and pressing against every inch of her flesh, her hands running across his chest.
"Without you," she whispered to the shimmering stars, "there's nothing left."
To that he'd either make a joke or, in a rare moment, be serious. He'd either tell her she was absolutely right and nothing would survive without his charm or he'd say she was wrong and there's the whole world. Both responses made her want to curl up into a ball and die. Maybe she'd be with him then, but she couldn't do that. He'd hate her for giving up like that.
Hermione closed her eyes and fell asleep, a part of her hoping she wouldn't wake up.
"Hermione."
There he was standing in front of her, looking as beautiful as the last time she saw him.
"This is a dream, isn't it?" Hermione asked, even though she knew the answer.
"What else could it be," Draco replied, "I'm dead."
"This isn't funny!"
"I suppose not," he agreed.
She sat down and he sat next to her.
"Hermione, don't do this to yourself."
"If I'd died you'd be doing the exact same thing," she told him.
"Maybe I would, but then again maybe I'd try to actually live my life. Like you should be doing."
"I can't. It's hard."
Draco stared at her. "You're infuriating, you know that. The Hermione I know wouldn't have just crawled into a hole like you're doing. Someone needs to slap some sense into you."
"The Hermione you know had a husband she loved. This Hermione's husband is gone," she said.
"I'm gone, but you still have that prat Potter and his little sidekick. You seem to like them, though I have no idea why.
"I love them, but they could never mean as much to me as you do."
Draco ran his hand through his hair. "Yes, well, I'm like that."
"Are you an angel now?" Hermione asked him.
"Angel!" Draco's mouth dropped open in shock. "Could you see me with wings? What would happen to my bad boy image?"
Hermione laughed a little at that.
"There," he said, "you're feeling better. It's time for you to go back."
"I don't want to."
"You have to."
"I know."
They both stood and Draco kissed her softly. She could feel herself beginning to wake up. Draco was becoming blurred. He quickly shoved something into her hand.
"Take that with you," he said. "Remember I love you, and please start to live again."
Hermione opened her eyes and sat up. She was still on Draco's grave. Hermione stared in her hand and smiled when she saw what was in it. For she saw that Draco had given her a lock of his fair hair. She turned and kissed the headstone where his name was engraved.
"You always were vain," she whispered.
Hermione left the cemetery with Draco's hair clutched tightly in her hand.