Draco Malfoy sat on a couch in the Room of Requirement staring into the dying fire. He enchanted the place so that it looked like a room in a ski lodge. Not that he had any idea what a ski lodge looked like, but this was what she said it looked like. The first time they had met in here this was what she wanted the room to be. He thought it was only fitting that it looked like this for their last night too. If she even came, that is.
They used to sit on this very couch night after night just talking. She did a lot of the talking to begin with. It was not that he was shy exactly, but he did not really know what to say or what he could say for that matter. He put up a good fight for a while, but she saw right through him. "You're not empty, Draco. I know you're full to the brim with things you want to say. So just spit it out," she had said to him, and that did it for him. He told her everything. He talked of his awful childhood, how horrible his father was and how he was only just starting to see it now. He had been proud of his pureblood heritage all of his life, but now he just felt dirty. His mother was not all bad, thankfully, and that helped him a bit as he was growing up. It was different now though. She could not save him anymore. They sat side by side, night after night and she actually listened as he spoke. That did not really happen much to him. People feared him, and so they followed him, but no one actually listened. That was going to make this all that much harder.
Maybe she would not come. She was already late. The fire was almost out now. But then the door was opening. He could see her from the corner of his eye. She stayed at the door, her hand still on the door knob. He could not look at her. "How many more times must we say goodbye, Draco?" Draco sighed. Of course she knew that something was different about tonight. She was insightful that way. "Just one more time," he said quietly.
It was true that they had tried to say goodbye to each other many times. They both knew that it could never work out for them in the long run. They were from completely different worlds. The first time he tried to push her away he showed her his mark. Instead of running, like he had hoped she would do, she moved closer to him. They had kneeled on the floor and she ran her fingers over his mark and declared that she was not scared of him and she was not leaving. She was stubborn, and Draco loved that about her.
She came over to the couch and sat facing him. She pulled her legs up underneath her and took both of his hands in hers. He finally looked at her then. "Hermione," he sighed. There were tears in his eyes already and in hers as well. "Why does this time feel like a funeral? It feels like someone's died," she said with a sniff, trying to hold it all in. She was much stronger than he was. She always had been. He did not know what to say to her. He had a whole speech planned out, but it had all been forgotten the moment she stepped through the door.
She was so beautiful, and he loved her so much. How could he possibly let her go? But he knew that he had to. It was for her own good after all, for her safety that he had to leave. She had known what she was signing up for when they started their relationship, if they could even call it that. It did not exist outside of this fake little ski lodge that they called their own. It could not, there was too much at stake. He had told her that, told her that it would not be able to last forever. He told her that he had to do unspeakable things, and that he did not want to do them, but he had to. He had no choice. She tried to fight him on that of course. "You always have a choice," she had said. But soon she gave up. She chose to just be with him for the time that they had, even though it was not long.
Hermione nodded. "I love you, you great big fool."
Draco managed a laugh. "I love you," he echoed," so much, Hermione. I wish there was another way. Everything I've known up until you found me frightened and alone in the boy's lavatory has been a lie. My whole life I have seen things as my father sees them. I never knew how wrong he was. You are the greatest thing to have ever happened to me. I hope you can forgive me for not realizing it sooner. I wish I had realized that everything I could ever need is sitting right in front of me, and I am so sorry," he pleaded his apology, trying to let out all of his emotions and put them into words. He wanted her to know just how much this short time with her had given him. He wished it was enough.
"Draco Malfoy, what have you done to me?" She lifted up both of his hands and brought them to her lips.
He could have asked her the very same question but instead he said, "I'm sorry," again.
"I know," she whispered. "It really does feel like a funeral, saying goodbye for the last time. I didn't think it would actually come. Goodbye, Draco. I hope somehow it all works out for you and you find happiness."
He wished he could tell her that he had already found happiness. He found it in her. But they found each other too late. It was too late for him. His soul had been sold to the Dark Lord. He had been plagued to live a life of darkness long before he ever fell in love with her. Nothing could change it now.
All he could do now was look into her eyes and try to take all of her in before he would most likely never see her again. She looked into his eyes too, memorizing everything she could about him, and then she leaned in and kissed him one last time. She fell asleep laying on his chest on their couch, and that was where he left her. He placed a chaste kiss upon her forehead and then walked out of the Room of Requirement without a backwards glance. He knew that if he looked back on her sleeping form he would never leave. He would lock the two of them in their makeshift fairytale room where they could stay hidden forever, and he knew that he could not do that.
The next time the two of them saw each other, Snape had just killed Dumbledore. Their eyes met across the heads of many Deatheaters, and they both shared a look that said that they would always remember the afternoons and nights they spent sitting side by side in their tiny little private Heaven. But they also knew that that was all that they would ever have; their memories, as if their last night together really had been a funeral.
Author's Note: Thanks for giving this a look! You ever hear a song and an idea just bursts into your head and you have to get it out? I've fallen in love with this song called Like A Funeral by Erik Jonasson, and it makes me feel all these emotions at once, and the other night when I had it on repeat this story popped into my head. I don't know, I just had to get it out of my head and onto paper. So thank you for taking the time to read this, much appreciated!