Just a little story that popped into my mind. First HP fanfic. Enjoy.

A massive marble structure magnificently stood on the lush green grass of Malfoy Manor. The structure was jet black and was shiny, partly credited to the light summer drizzle that had not long ago fallen. The clouds above, almost as dark as the structure itself, matched the moods of the participants gathered on the lawn. In the structure a man lay peacefully as mourners came up to pay their respects. A woman weeped quietly in the corner into the chest of man replacing her absent husband. He flicked his long dark hair out of his face too see the people more clearly. His eyes were set upon a trio dressed respectively approaching the tomb. There were two men dressed in all black. The woman positioned in the middle was wearing a black dress that came above her knees. It was a one shoulder long sleved. A little revealing for a funeral but she remembers him saying he loved it when she wore that dress. The one with red hair spoke first after clearing his throat.

"He was a bastard but he didn't deserve to die," he said shaking his head.

"Charming words Ron," another member of the trio scolded. He pushed his short black hair off his forehead, his fingers brushing an oddly shaped scar.

"He was an arse, yeah, but...he changed. He matured into respectable man and one of my best mates," he continued. Ron nodded.

"Yeah...same, nice words Harry," he said quietly. As much as he wouldn't dare admit it out loud Malfoy had grown on him. Now that he wasn't a prejudiced prick Ron found him tolerable and even respected him. The two men turned to look at a woman who was silently looking on in between them. She didn't say anything but placed a rose in the dead man's folded hands. She pulled out a wand and with a swish and flicker charmed the rose so that it was silver, green and black, his favorite colors.

"You ok Hermione?" Ron asked gently grasping the hand of his girlfriend. The melancholy brunette slipped her hand out of his and left the coffin in a bit if a hurry. She slowed down to give the weeping woman a look of a pity. Shame, to loose an only child. Poor Narcissia. True Narcissia and Lucius Malfoy absolutely despised her at first. They nearly kicked her out the first time Draco invited her to the house but Narcissia was more mature than her husband and gave Hermione a chance. She never really hated Muggles anyway. She and Hermione got along swimmingly and soon Narcissia treated Hermione like her unborn daughter. Hermione gave Narcissia a small smile of comfort. She returned it. The man who she was crying on nodded his head curtly. Hermione continued walking, knowing that's the best she would ever get from her old Potions master. Then suddenly the heavens opened up suddenly and a drop of water fell on her face. She reached up and wiped it off. It's small and black from her running mascara but it's mere appearance triggers a memory she'd rather not remember.

Flashback
Hermione

"Oh God what have I done?" she questions herself. A small black stained tear drips onto a hard chest. The proud owner stroked her hair softly and tried to whisper words of comfort but they do no good.

"Draco I just cheated on Ron," she said sadly pulling the covers over herself. They were silver and green, just like the rest of his room. She tried to still herself as sobs threatened to shake her body. She sniffed and little tremors would racked her. Draco pulled her closer against him to steady her. He began kissing her neck, leaving little invisible trails of love on the slender column of her skin. Hermione moaned and closed her eyes while she ran her fingers through his messy blonde hair. She pulled his head closer to her neck making the kisses harder and more passionate. She moaned again when he flicked out his tounge and ran it along the length of her neck before nipping softly and then licking again. Hermione's hand explored his hard upper body, her fingers caressing his muscular form. He grinned and intensified his actions. Draco kissed her from her face to her neck to her chest, lower and lower. Hermione gasped when he kissed that special spot. Ron could never make her feel as good as this. He couldn't be as caring as Draco or more intelligent or a little bit more serious. But she could be less ungrateful, less demanding and more of a better girlfriend. Hermione squirms out of Draco arms suddenly feeling awful and disgusted with herself.

"Draco I have to go," she said suddenly. She jumps out of his bed and summons her cloths.

"Accio dress," she says in a clear voice. A navy blue dress flies out from under the bed into her waiting arms. She quickly dresses.

"No 'Mione don't go," he pleads trying to stop her. His heavy sheets bound him to the bed and his wand is too far away. Good she thought as she Disapparates from his room. She appears in the back alley of some shady street. After emerging from the shadows she walks around and approaches a familiar spot. The place where she reunited with Malfoy five years after the Battle of Hogwarts. They had instantly struck up a civil conversation and before she knew it they had a good camaraderie between them. He even had a decent one between, Harry, Ginny, Luna, Neville and the Weasely's including Ron. She smiled and sat on an ancient bench with loose rusty screws and stripping paint. The place where she and Draco Malfoy became friends. She'd get a phone call early the next morning.

Flashback
Draco

"I-" he never got a the finish as she Disapparates from his room. He struggles out of bed and throws on an outfit before rushing downstairs to his living room. He goes to the fire place and searches the mantle desperately for an old clay jar. He opens it hastily and pulls out a handful of Floo Powder. He stepped into the fireplace.

"Hermione's flat," he said. A green flame engulfed him and a second later he was in Hermione's apartment. After a good ten minutes of searching he couldn't find her anywhere. He knew she wouldn't go Ron Harry or anybody. She'd want alone time. He sighed. Looks he'll have to find her the Muggle way. eHe dashed outside to find it a friggin mess. It was raining bloody hell outside but he didn't care he had to find Hermione. He had to tell her he was truly deepyly madly in lobe with her. Now soaking wet he jogged into the street but the deafening sound of the rain and the two inch visibility disabled his senses and by the time he saw two yellow orbs coming towards him it was too late. He was already face down on the road with two Muggles crowding over his still body. The last thought on his mind was Hermione. And how he never got to tell her how he loved her.

"Oh, Draco," she sobbed. The rain came down harder as it did that fateful night. Hermione kept going, not bothering to see him being laid to rest, as the rain concealed her salty tears. The last thought on her mind as she exited the gardens was Draco and how she never got to tell him how she loved him.

Reviews are much appreciated and flames are too.

Yes Snape lives and was at the funeral. I was super pissed and sad when he died so I put him alive and well in my story.