A/N: This is for the Crayola Colour Creations Contest, entry for number 19, Cornflower Blue. Hope you enjoy~! :D BTW, this is non-canon. And this was inspired by TFIOS by John Green.

Prompt: Number 19, about someone wearing a cornflower blue dress.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I wish. But I don't.

Ashes and Dust

That terrible feeling. That feeling when you want to cry, but you just can't. Because there are people you love in front of you, and even though you trust them with all your heart, you don't want them to think that you're hurting, because if you show that you hurt, they'll hurt.

And there's that lump in your throat. It's stuck there, and no matter how hard you swallow, it'll be there. But you try anyways. You smile, pretending that nothing is wrong. Of course, there is something wrong.

And even though you know that there are only days until you die, you smile and live on.

"Mr. Malfoy, you have been diagnosed with a very rare disease called the Cursed Necrophobius Disease. Unfortunately, you only have a 35% of surviving." Dr. Kronelius said with an uneasy expression on his face.

"Can't you heal him? We're wizards for Merlin's sake!" Hermione said, eyes desperate, searching for an answer within the doctor's eyes.

She found nothing.

"Draco!" She said as she sobbed, clinging to me.

Dr. Kronelius quickly walked away to give us privacy. Damn right he should.

"It's going to be okay, Hermione." I said, smiling to her, my hands trembling as I stroked her hair.

I was afraid of Death. Who wasn't? Wasn't that ironic, I used to be called a Death Eater, and here I was, afraid of Death.

"D-draco, don't you know what Necrophobius comes from?" She asked, as she looked up into my eyes, chocolate brown eyes melting.

I shook my head in response.

"It comes from n-necrophobia, which means fear of d-death! D-don't pretend that you d-don't fear death, it's o-only natural having t-this disease!" Hermione said, as she cried her heart out into my chest.

That caused me to smirk. So there's the reason I'm fearing Death.

"There's still a 35% chance of living, Granger. It's better than nothing! And you know me, my hot bod's tough." I said, smirking at her bushy brown head, using my old pet-name for her.

That caused a muffled laugh from her.

"And I slapped you that one year, and all you could do was run away." She said, smiling at me, tears still glistening in her eyes.

I took my hand and wiped her eyes gently. I smirked at her. "It hurt. You're one heck of a girl."

"Would you like to experience another slap?" She joked.

"No, but I'd like a kiss." I said, as I closed my eyes, waiting for the kiss.

And it came. And like each time she kissed me, I got this sensation that I was in heaven-like I'd soon be. Or who knows, maybe I'd be in hell.

So I tried to focus on the present, as I kissed her back, tongue and all. Usually, I'm a good kisser. But this time, I couldn't help but shake.

Like always, I was just talk.

Hermione pulled away, looking worried. "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing, don't worry about it." I said, as I smiled at her, hands in fists to stop them from shaking.

I swallowed hard. That lump just wouldn't go away.

There are days until I die. I keep on wavering in and out from consciousness. And when I am conscious, I open my eyes wearily, to see a beautiful woman with brown hair. She's in a corn blue dress. Damn, she looks good in that colour. Well, she looks good in anything, really.

I fall back into my deep slumber, and all I can do is tremble in the anticipation of what is yet to come.

One day, as I lay conscious, with someone's delicate fingers playing with my hair, I know that it is soon. I know that Death will claim me soon.

I open my eyes, with one message left to give.

"'Mione." I whisper frailly.

"Draco. I'm here." She says, as she holds my hand, suddenly alert.

I haven't spoken for days, I've been saving my energy so that I can speak my last and final words to her.

"I'm going to die soon." I whisper, as I stare into her beautiful brown eyes.

"No, you're not going to die, Draco! Remember, your hot bod, it's tough, and there's still a 35% chance of living, and you're going to live, Draco!" She says, as a tear rolls down her cheek, onto mine.

"Death's coming. I love you, 'Mione." I say, as finally, it comes and collects me. The last thing I hear is her screaming.

And the trembling stops.

"He wanted to be cremated." Hermione said, smiling sadly. "He thought that it would be funny."

"Very well then."

"You're mixed up with dust, Draco. I don't even know if this-" Hermione grabbed a handful of ashes and/or dust, "or this-" Hermione grabbed another handful with the other hand, "is you!"

"Draco! Ashes and dust have made my life a nightmare!"

"I don't care what people said about him. He will always be the most brave man that I have ever known. When he was dying, he told me this; 'Death's coming.' He knew that death was coming, and he wasn't afraid of it. His disease was the 'Cursed Necrophobus Disease', Necrophobus coming from the root word, necro, which means death, and necrophobia, meaning the fear of death. This disease was supposed to make him afraid of death. And he was afraid of death, but when it was finally coming, he embraced it, just like it says in The Tale of the Three Brothers, 'He embraced it like an old friend'. He wasn't afraid of it when it finally came. Draco Malfoy was the bravest man I knew, and I will always love him, as he did me. His last words were this, 'I love you, 'Mione.' And I will always remember them, and cherish them."

A/N: I hope you liked, that was for the Crayola Colour Creations Contest. :) Please review, follow and favourite!