Death

Draco Malfoy had never been to a funeral before. But war had changed that, not much else, but now he had a shoebox full of the little cards with prayers and pictures of the dead on them. Today he had two more to add to his collection.

He looked down at them, one in each hand lying on his lap, at their faces young and beautiful and full of smiles. Mother said they were taken during their honeymoon. Even still, they sent cold chills down his spine despite the fez his uncle wore. He closed his fingers over their faces and brought his back up to the squat balding man talking of mistakes and misguided lives.

The few that sat through the service had all gone, leaving only the three to watch as Rodolphus and Bellatrix Lestrange were finally lowered into the ground.