Scene: Hermione's funeral (Harry's perspective)


Harry Potter woke up early on the hardest day of his life. His wife, Ginny, still lay fast asleep next to him. He gave her a quick glance as he slipped out of bed, feet hitting the ground with small thuds.

The effort it took him to stand would have moved a small army. He groaned, forcing himself to his feet. As soon as he was standing up straight, he began to wobble and he had to sit right back down.

He couldn't do it, he thought, letting his head fall into his hands. He couldn't get out of bed and face the day. He couldn't handle this. Never this.

He could never go to Hermione Granger's funeral.

A few tears were rolling down his face when he finally took a deep breath and steadied himself. You have to, he reminded himself. You need closure. It's been seven years.

Seven years since he had seen his best friend in the entire world.

She wasn't officially dead. They had never found any remains. They had never found anything. Not a damn thing in over half a decade. Not a clue. Not a trace. Not a chance.

So, what other option did he have but to finally say goodbye?

He had written a speech. He and Ron were delivering the eulogies. That's basically all the funeral was going to be. What else could they do without a body?

The tears were falling openly now. He was starting to sob. He spared a glance for Ginny, still fast asleep. He didn't want to wake her, so he forced himself to his feet and into their sitting room.

He sat on the couch and stared at the empty fireplace across from him. He let his wind run rampant for a moment, imagining bright green flames erupting from the empty hole in the wall. Hermione would tumble out of it, and fall into his arms. She would be here. She would be alive.

She would love him.

That's where his mind was when Ginny came to shake his shoulder. Her red hair was cascading around her face. She was already dressed in her black dress.

"Darling?" she asked, the concern in her face only slightly noticeable. "You need to get ready now. We need to leave soon."

Harry wiped the tears from his face and gave Ginny a curt nod, standing. He walked back into their bedroom to get changed.

After he had changed into his black suit, brushed his teeth and tried to comb his hair, he walked over to the armoire and looked for a pair of black socks. He rummaged around for a moment when his hands hit something hard. Immediately, he knew he had found the box.

He glanced over his shoulder to make sure Ginny hadn't entered. When he was sure the coast was clear, he took out the little wooden box. He waved his hand over the top and the lock clicked open.

He pushed the lid back to reveal Hermione's face smiling up at him.

This was where he kept all of his memories of her, of that beautiful girl that he loved so dearly. All their photos, the newspaper clippings from before and after the war, and an old quill that she had left at his house the week she disappeared.

He picked up his favourite photo from the top. It had been taken about midway through fourth year. He and Hermione stood by the lake at Hogwarts, arms wrapped around each other and smiling.

He smiled back at the two naïve teenagers who had no idea that their lives would be turned upside down in a few months. It had been one of the last moments of true freedom before the return of Voldemort. Just the two of them, and their happiness.

"Harry!" Ginny called from the next room. "We're going to be late!"

"I'm almost ready," he called back, knowing full well that he was never going to be ready. He looked at the photograph once more.

Folding it in half, he tucked it into his suit pocket.

He paced around the speakers room nervously, going over his eulogy in his head. He needed to make sure it was perfect. Hermione deserved nothing short of perfection.

On the way in, he had nearly scoffed at the opulence of the service. All the flowers, the immaculate dress robes, the location. He knew his girl, she wouldn't have cared for it at all. She would've wanted nothing more than friends and memories.

That's why it was so important he get his words right. That would be what mattered to Hermione.

He heard the room flap rustle behind him. He didn't need to turn to know who it was.

"Potter," the voice said, forced politeness evident. Harry turned to meet the eyes of Ronald Weasley.

The two once best friends stood, eyeing each other for several moments. The tension grew with every elapsed second of silence.

Hermione wouldn't have wanted them fighting, a voice at the back of his head scolding him. Harry frowned. She would've wanted them loving each other and playing Quidditch and being the best friends they had been before she had stumbled into their hearts.

He tilted his head at the thought. Of course she had stumbled. Hermione didn't need to make anyone love her. It just happened, like rain in spring. Refreshing, and bringing beauty.

Ron spoke first. "Are you ready?"

Harry responded with a dry laugh. "I'm never going to be ready."

Ron nodded, his face whiter than usual. "How can we be? I mean, I always thought…"

He trailed off, and his lost hope hung in the air for a moment.

"I know," Harry whispered. "I did too."

They stayed silent for a moment.

"Did you ever forgive yourself?" Ron asked suddenly, his eyes darting up to meet Harry's.

"About what?" he asked dryly.

"For Hermione being at your house that night. If she hadn't been there, she would've been safe at home."

Harry felt the knife in his heart twist a little bit. "No. Never."

Ron raised an eyebrow. "So you do think it's your fault."

"Yes. No. I don't know," Harry sighed, rubbing the crease between his eyes. "I do think that night was the changing factor in, well, everything."

Ron narrowed his eyes. "You don't say."

The tension in the room rose again.

"Are you going to admit it?" Ron spat out. Harry flinched at the tone, but kept his expression composed.

"What?"

"That you were in love with her."

Harry tried not to crumble at Ron's accusation. He had worked too hard in the past seven years to let his secret be revealed in one jerk reaction.

Instead, Harry stood straighter and met Ron's eyes straight on. "I don't know what you're talking about."

His old friend rolled his eyes. "You can't lie about this forever."

Harry shrugged and tried to ignore the burning in his chest. "I'm not lying."

"This is ridiculous," Ron snapped.

"It is."

"Admit it Potter!" he shouted.

Harry shouted right back. "I can't believe you're bringing this up, today of all days!"

"I need to know!"

Before Harry had a chance to give a retort, a voice interrupted them from the flap of a door.

"Sorry to interrupt, boys" Draco Malfoy said. He stood in the doorway, wearing a suit, with an unreadable expression on his face.

Harry's shock at seeing him here dispersed all angry thoughts.

"Malfoy, why are you here?" Harry asked.

"I need to talk to you," Malfoy said, practically shrugging.

"Fuck off, Malfoy," Ron spat venomously. Harry shot him a look, but Malfoy didn't budge.

"No, seriously," the Slytherin continued.

"Piss off, ferret," the redhead snapped, venom permeating every word. "You have no right to be here. You were no friend to Hermione. In fact, you made her life hell for years. You stood by and watched her being tortured without lifting a finger. You hated her. That much was obvious. Lucky for you, the feeling was mutual. This service is for the people Hermione cared about, so get the hell out."

By the end of his rant, Ron was screaming. But still, Draco Malfoy did not budge. He just took a deep breath and continued talking.

"Just, listen Golden Duo," the man started to say.

Harry opened his mouth to ask what he was going on again, but then he realized the tent outside had gone completely silent.

The ceremony was starting.

Suddenly, a hand reached through the flap and grabbed Draco Malfoy by the shoulder. The voice outside muttered speaker time.

Oh shit no.

Harry rushed after the two men, starting to protest. Malfoy was not a speaker at Hermione Granger's funeral. The mere idea was an insult to her memory.

However, before he got a chance to really stop it, the Slytherin was standing behind the podium in front of the entire crowd.

Harry waited for him to admit there was a mistake, and to step down. However, he did the exact opposite. After a few seconds of silence, Draco Malfoy began to speak.

"Hello, all," the Slytherin started, looking across the crowd. Harry's jaw dropped. There was no fucking way….

"I knew Hermione Granger for seven years before she disappeared," Malfoy said, running his hand through his hair. "Seven years I knew this woman, and never once did we have a conversation that didn't involve screaming and insults. Hermione knew some really good ones."

A chuckle rang through the crowd. Malfoy, what are you doing?

"To state it simply, Granger and I didn't get along," Malfoy continued. With every word, he seemed to gain more confidence. "Anyone who went to Hogwarts knew that. We weren't very secretive about our mutual dislike. It started when we were young, from the first moment we saw each other. When I was little, I used to say I didn't like Hermione Granger because she was a muggle-born Gryffindor, and I was a pureblooded Slytherin."

"But, now that I'm older and wiser, though not much…" Another chuckle rang through the crowd. "I can understand fully why I didn't like Hermione Granger. I simply admired her too much."

Harry's jaw dropped even further.

What on earth was happening?

"I didn't like her because she was such a better person than me. I have never respected anyone more. She was kind, and intelligent. She was compassionate. She was a strong person, who would never take shit from anyone. The broken nose she gave me once can testify to that. And she was beautiful."

"Hermione was beautiful," Malfoy said, staring across the lake. "Inside and out. She was one of the most amazing people I've ever met. Funny, intelligent, witty, kind, and caring. I just wish I had told her this back when she could hear it."

"One day, back during the war, Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter were captured and taken to Malfoy Manor, where I was staying."

Harry flinched at the memory, and his eyes narrowed. Malfoy was lucky he hadn't been cursed out. But to bring up that day? How dare he?

Harry was just about to push Malfoy aside when his next words filled the air. "Hermione, because of her blood status, was tortured for information on the drawing room floor. I watched, helpless, as she withered and twitched, screaming as my crazy aunt crucio-ed her. But Hermione never broke. She never gave up. She fought. She was the strongest person I've ever met."

The words stopped Harry in his tracks.

"Hermione was a woman that I can't even fully describe. If I sat down by myself for an hour, just thinking, I still wouldn't be able to describe her well enough to do her justice. Even now," Malfoystated, looking around. "As I see this beautiful service you all have concocted, I still don't think it does Hermione justice. It is beautiful, but not as much a Hermione was. I doubt an angel could be that beautiful."

"I'll be honest now, more honest than I've been in a very long time. Now, as surprising as the next statement will be, it's the truth. I miss Hermione. I miss Hermione Granger a lot. I miss the snobby bookworm who would yell at me when I interrupted her studying. I miss the girl who walked into the prefects carriage, glowing with pride at the achievement. I miss the strong woman who let herself be tortured instead of giving in to the wishes of the dark side. I miss Hermione Granger."

Malfoy stepped down from the podium gracefully and took a seat in the crowd. Harry's mind was spinning, trying desperately to comprehend what he had heard. After everything, the ferret had respect for his bookworm.

He was so focused that he missed the beginning of Ron's speech.

He tuned in just as Ron was saying "As I got to know Hermione more, I became more amazed by her. Sure, she was stubborn and bossy, but she was kind, and witty, and the smartest girl I've ever known. And before I even realized what I was getting myself into, I had fallen in love with her.

Harry fought to keep his face blank as he listened to Ron, once again, make a claim on Hermione that could never be undone.

"Anyway," Ron continued. "I fell in love with Hermione Granger. Then for years, we bickered, but remained best friends. I watched as she grew into a beautiful woman, witty, intelligent, caring, and I fell even more in love with her, if that was possible. It was sort of funny, everyone knew that I loved her. I remember Potter just staring at us dubiously while we bickered, as if telling us to get a room. I loved Hermione so much, and I learned during the war, she felt the same way. But for years, the two of us were too proud and stubborn to do anything about it."

She felt the same way, my ass, Harry thought viciously. At Ron's comment, a memory of Hermione with her legs wrapped around his waist surfaced in his mind. The thought got him through the rest of the speech.

"During the battle of Hogwarts, I made a comment about how we needed to get the house elves out, about how we couldn't order them to die for us. For years, Hermione and I had argued about house elf rights. She wanted total equality, and well, I didn't care. But when I showed a little bit of care for the creatures, well, that seemed to be the trigger. Hermione kissed me. It was the best moment of my life, even though, you know, we were in the middle of a battle and life kind of sucked." Everyone laughed.

"And there was Potter, standing next to us, trying to separate us, you know, because of the war." Harry was the only one to notice the angry undertone. "Then for a week, we were happily together. Then, out of the blue, she disappeared. That was the longest day of my life."

Mine too, Harry thought. Mine too.

"Not a second has gone by since then, when I haven't missed Hermione Granger. I would give anything to have her back. Anything at all. It's been seven years, and I still love her with all my heart. She was a light in my darkness. She always knew what to do. Whenever I have a problem, I think, what would Hermione do? She leads me, even though she's long gone. Even though it's been years since I've seen her, she still helps me. She always will. She will always be there for me."

As Ron stepped down from the podium, Harry came to the terrible realization that he was now his moment to speak. His feet moved him forward without permission until he was standing in front of hundreds of people.

The speech he had prepared played across his eyelids for a moment. He took a breath to say what he had planned, but stopped.

No, he thought. He couldn't recite something. Not for Hermione. It had to be authentic, pure, and honest. That was what she had been, and that was all she would accept from him.

She had always given him too much credit.

So Harry Potter stood before a crowd of hundreds, and improvised his eulogy.

"I do not want to be standing here," he said simply, the words tumbling from his lips. As soon as he said them, he knew they were true. "I do not want to speak to you. I don't want you all to be here. Because, it makes this real. It means that she's actually gone. It means all hope is lost. It means Hermione Granger will never come back."

"I am not ready for that reality. I've lost many people in my life, and I've never been ready for it," Harry thought, holding back a sob. "Who can be? But, I've moved on, I've continued living. I've accepted that they've passed. But with Hermione, I can't do that. I can't keep living. Every time I start to feel happy, or even laugh, Hermione's face flashes through my mind, and I go numb. How is it fair that I live and she doesn't? How is it fair that we can't even find her body? It isn't, it isn't fair at all. And that's what Hermione was about, fairness. She was fair to everyone, no matter what."

The words kept flowing and flowing, falling with more ease every time he moved his lips. It was as if his heart was speaking directly to the audience. This was how he felt. This was the truth.

This is what she deserved. Love and honesty. Not death and funerals.

"Hermione was one of the kindest people I've ever met. She was good through and through. She stood by me no matter what, right or wrong, she never yelled when I was being stupid, she never even blamed me. She was perfect, and she doesn't deserve this fate. And she certainly doesn't deserve any of this," he said gesturing around him, at the funeral gathering.

"She deserves parades, and trumpets, and thousands in attendance. She deserves beautiful flowers and the best the world can give. Because she was just that good. She was the best person I've ever met. I can name example after example. But I don't need to, because you all knew her. You all were touched by her goodness, which spread out everywhere she went. So this, this funeral, does not do her justice. And I know, nothing ever will."

Nothing could ever hold a candle to the wonderful woman who had changed so many people here. Nothing ever would. Harry looked around the crowd, and for a moment, thought he saw Hermione sitting in the front row. She smiled at him, and gestured for him to continue. She wanted to hear.

He could barely get the words out.

"So now, I'm going to speak directly to Hermione, wherever she is. Whether she is looking down at us from heaven, or somewhere else in the world, this is for you 'Mione," he said, looking directly at where he thought she was. "I love you, more than words can say." More than anyone can know. "You were always there for me, even when no one else was. I can still see your face in my mind, your eyes bright and sparkling. I can still hear your voice, musical and twinkling. I can still feel your hugs, warm and reassuring. You are a part of me 'Mione. And I'm not giving up on you, not now not ever. Because I know that you would never give up on me."

Harry stumbled down from the podium and into Ginny's waiting arms. He barely noticed as she tried to console him. Instead, he looked across the lake, and let his mind remember his happiest memory with Hermione.

It was that night in the woods. The two of them; crashing into each other in a whirlwind of passion and need. He remembered holding her afterwards. He remembered loving her that night. Oh, how he loved her.

He barely noticed as the world moved around him. His mind was stuck in that night. What he would give to re-live that night.

He hardly noticed that he, Ron and Ginny had migrated from the others over the shadows of a tree. He sat with his back on the trunk, and his wife at his side.

The three of them had not been this close in years. Hermione's disappearance had ruined any chance of them being family again. But, he still spoke to them as if they were his lifelines.

"It's never going to go away, is it? The pain, I mean."

Ginny sat up from where she had been sitting to look at him. "You have got to move on, Harry. You need to."

"I don't think I can," Harry replied, looking at the ground. "I never even got to say goodbye. Now, I never will."

There was a beat of silence before a voice interrupted his mourning.

"I wouldn't be too sure of that," Malfoy drawled, sauntering up to them from the direction of the funeral tent.

Harry let his eyes wander to the Slytherin, but couldn't find it in himself to care. He was too drained. He was completely empty.

Malfoy looked at all of them for a moment. "I need to talk to Pott- all of you."

"What do you want, ferret?" Ron snapped, averting his eyes to the ground. His eyes were now following the trail of an ant as it climbed up a twig.

"That ant's pretty fascinating, eh?" Malfoy said sarcastically. The tension in the air rose.

"What is it, Malfoy?" Harry muttered. Merlin, he sounded as weak as he felt.

The Slytherin sighed. "I have some information I believe all of you should know."

Harry let his eyes flick to the ferret.

"What, Malfoy?" the Ginny demanded.

There was silence before he said anything. Harry stared at his childhood enemy in confusion. There was something going on here. Something strange. Something different.

And something to do with Hermione Granger.

"It's about Hermione," Malfoy said, confirming his suspicions.

Harry felt a flame of hope erupt in his chest. He tried to quash it.

"Malfoy, don't mess with us…" Ron threatened.

"Wouldn't dream of it," the ferret muttered.

"Malfoy….." the Ron threatened once more. But, the Slytherin simply spoke over him. The words fell out of his mouth in a rush.

"Hermione's alive!" the Slytherin announced.

There was a beat before the news hit Harry.

Alive. He almost toppled over. Any questions he should have disappeared. The word bounced around his head. Hermione was alive. She was alive.

His face lit up like the sun.

"What?" Ron gasped out.

"Hermione Granger, war heroine is alive and kicking," Malfoy restated, smirking a little bit.

"How do you know?" Ginny whispered.

"Ran into her," the ferret shrugged.

Ron started muttering, running his hand through his hair.

"Yes, that is correct," Malfoy said, in response to the mutters.

"Where has she been?" Ginny asked.

"Long story," Malfoy stated. "Listen, I'll explain everything, but right now, you guys should come with me."

"Where is she?" Ron asked, jumping forward.

"Blaises' office. Unconscious."

"Unconscious?" Ron demanded, anger saturating his question.

"Do you want to see your missing best friend and true love or not?"

As the others spoke, Harry stared blankly forward. He felt as if he was in a trance.

"Potter?" Malfoy asked, waving his hand in front of the boy wonder's face. "You coming?"

Harry looked up at the Slytherin, wondering if he knew that he had just made Harry's dreams come true.

"No question."

A few minutes later, they had all apparated to Blaise's office. The second they landed, Harry's eyes fell on her.

She was lying, unconscious on the desk. She was different than he remembered. Older. Her hair was longer. She looked a little weary.

But he hardly saw the differences.

He saw the girl who had lied about the troll. He saw the petrified girl in the hospital bed. He saw his best friend, his love, the one who had stood by him through it all.

Oh Merlin, he saw Hermione Granger.


Review :) One chapter to go, and it will be the one you all keep asking about.