Disclaimer: Like before and the time before that. I do not own Harry Potter.

Forever Yours

~ Pensive Puddles

"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust…" the pastor droned on as the coffin was lowered into the black earth. The sky was a depressing and sad gray, reflecting the mood that was hanging in the cemetery air. The wind was blowing lightly, stirring up the dead leaves and blowing at the cloaks of the people gathered at the grave sight.

She had been so emotionless that whole day. Not one tear had spilled from her amber eyes. Not one single tear. Harry on the other hand, had not been ashamed and had let the tears course down his face, but he refused to add sound effects. He'd save that for later, when he finally realized that Draco would never come back. Harry…brave, humble Harry. Ron had even let his own eyes mist over. She knew that Ron didn't care for Draco a whole lot, but a death was a death. He knew that no one, even Draco, deserve to have his life ripped out of his own hands.

Even as the coffin hit the bottom of the pit, she could hear sniffles, sobs and strangled noises being made throughout the small group of people who had come to pay respects to Draco Malfoy.

Hermione reluctantly threw in her handful of dirt, and watched as a few more handfuls of dirt and flowers were thrown onto the mahogany coffin. She felt so dead, as if she was the one in the coffin and she secretly wished she was. She probably would have been happier. It seemed unbelievable that this was happening. It didn't seem real. But the winds cruel bite constantly proved her wrong.

She felt Harry's hand interlock with hers, and he squeezed her hand comforting. He was the only one who knew that she was breaking inside. She had refused to pass Draco's coffin at the service. She didn't know if she would have been able to take it, looking down at her love's dead face. She could still close her eyes and be able to picture his pale, dead complexion as he laid on the metal table at the morgue. She shuddered at the memory. How dreary of a place it was! How could anyone work there?

She heard the crunching of leaves as people walked away from the graveyard, murmuring a couple words of good bye. She didn't move. She couldn't move.

"He was a good guy. I wish I could have come to know that sooner, become friends with him. Wherever he is, I hope he doesn't always remember me as the jerk that I was when he was alive," whispered Ron. He wasn't really talking to Harry or Hermione, but more to himself. Hermione grabbed his hand to give it a little squeeze and then released it. He looked at him with his sad blue eyes. "Hermione, if you ever need to talk…you're always welcomed at the Barrow. I'm here for you."

But he's not, not anymore, she couldn't help but silently add to herself. She felt the familiar pang in her heart. That had happened a lot. Anything that reminded her of him had sent her that painful feeling, hitting whatever was left inside of her that could feel. How she wished it would leave. She felt as if nothing was there, no heart, no soul. It had died that moment she found out of his death. She nodded dumbly at Ron's offer.

She heard his footsteps die off and then the loud snap of him Apparating. There were only a few other people besides Harry and her who were standing next to Draco's grave.

Hermione watched with blank eyes as the diggers piled shovel full after shovel full of dirt over the coffin. The black mounds were smothering the white roses that had been thrown in there. It wasn't until the last part of the coffin had disappeared under the dirt when she finally snapped. The sudden realization that this was it. He was gone, forever.

I never said good bye…she thought to herself. It hit her with such force that she gasped. "No…" the first tear that day finally sliding down her face as she whispered. She started to shake her head frantically.

"No!" she screamed. She lunged forward, almost hurling herself into the pit. She would have done it. Merlin knows she would have done it, but something had held her back. "Let me go!" she howled.

"Hermione, no! You can't!" Harry told her in a firm voice, despite the tears that were streaming down his own face.

"Let me go, Harry! I need to tell him! He was everything. He can't go! I didn't tell him!" she gasped, choking on her sobs and making high, gasps as she sucked in hard for air. "I didn't say good bye!"

The remaining people looked at the poor girl. What a pathetic sight she made. She was kicking and punching, trying to free the arms that were trying to save her, and drag herself to the coffin that was buried half way into the earth. The sound of her cries were like the sound of the last agonizing cry of a wounded animal, right before it died. And those who had observed her during the funeral and burial, they knew that she had died. To the ladies who were watching, it was obvious that her heart was buried with the man in the ground. They watched sadly, unable to help. This was something between Harry and Hermione.

"You have to let him go," Harry said between the breaks of her sobs.

"I…I…c-can't!" she whimpered, her energy draining away quickly. She felt as if everything inside of her was sucked out of her body. She gave up and fell back into her friend's warm arms. Oh! how she welcomed his loving arms. Of course, it wasn't the arms she wanted the most, but they were perfectly fine. Somehow, although very little, it eased the empty pain. "I…" she whispered into his chest, "I didn't tell him I loved him."

"He knows. He knows, Hermione."

"H-how? I d-didn't tell h-him! I didn't tell him!" she repeated painfully, breaking out into a new fit of uncontrollable sobs.

"Sometimes words don't have to be spoken. Sometimes people just know," he whispered into her hair. Hermione sat cuddled in his arms, still shaking from her cries. The tears fell so hot, so fast. All the tears she had somehow held back all that day, were finally taking their toll, ruining the little make up she had on.

The two best friends sat on the ground, holding onto each other. Everyone else had left. Hermione looked up at Harry. Suddenly, she realized that Draco's death had affected Harry as much as her. Not that Harry was gay, she knew that he was courting a girl at the Ministry, but there was a friendship between the two men that neither she nor Ron would ever understand. Harry and Draco were almost the same, but completely different. There was a bond that instantly connected between them, an understanding, almost as though they knew exactly what the other was thinking.

Harry held onto Hermione, unconsciously rocking them back and forth, soothing both of them. She felt so foolish. Never once had she thought of Harry's feelings during this painful ordeal. He was so pale, and the bags under his eyes clearly meant he had had many sleepless nights. And his eyes, they looked so haunted and sorrowful. The bright cheeriness that usually filled those deep forest eyes was gone, replaced by a flat look. Both eyes were red. He had done a lot of crying lately.

Hermione's heart went out to Harry and before she could stop herself, she croaked just above a whisper, "Oh Harry!"

It seemed to break him in his vulnerable spot for he broke down into tears again. She quickly hugged him, pressing his head to her chest and petting his hair, soothing him with meaningless words and let him weep, cradling his head to her chest. He held onto her, his fingers grabbing handfuls of her shirt and he pressed against her. It seemed as if Harry had stepped back to the days were he was a younger man, a boy who could cry and be comforted. It was the only thing he needed, that and his friend, but the latter would never return.

When his outburst had ended leaving a very tired looking, puffy eyed Harry, they slowly stood up, looking at the mound of dirt covered in flowers. Hermione leaned into Harry's tall frame, resting her head on his chest. She could smell his cologne and couldn't help but compare it to Draco's. This brought another wave of tears but she blinked them rapidly back. She had had enough crying. She felt so weak, so useless.

"Thank you," she whispered. She had abruptly realized what might have happened if she had dove into the pit. Harry had rescued her again. He always was the hero. A sad hero, but nevertheless, a hero.

They stood like that for a couple more moments, taking in nothing, but dwelling on memories of the past, breathing in each other's presence. Harry's cell phone went off at his side, the ring playing the notes of the song "Weasley is our King." The song had grown on him, and he always got a kick at seeing Ron's face slightly reddening whenever he heard it.

Harry flipped open the cell phone and held it to his ear. A lot of muffled talking was heard from the phone and yes's, sure's, right's, were made on Harry's side of the phone, and then he closed it, cutting the connection. He turned towards her, looking down into her eyes. "Hermione, there's this emergency at the Ministry and--"

She waved her hand, silencing him. She gave him a hug, murmuring into his sweater, "I know, Harry. You're a busy man."

"Thanks for understanding, 'Mione," he thanked, kissing her hair. His grateful, comforting smile was still on his face as he took out his wand and Apparated himself from the cemetery grounds.

The little smile on her face silently faded, leaving a sad frown. She was thinking of him again. How he had plagued her mind ever since Harry had murmured, "Draco's dead."

Two simple words that had changed everything, it was so preposterous and yet believable. And it had happened to her. She had been looking so forward to seeing him that night, dying to ask him if what the ring meant what she thought it meant. The ring…

Hermione grabbed for her neck, pulling the ring on a chain out from under her shirt. She kept it by her heart now. She held the ring, reading the inscription over and over again. How many times had she done this the day he had left? How many times after she found out of his death? She'd think that the words were worn away by the number of times her eyes had gazed over it. She rubbed it unconsciously between her fingers, a habit she had picked up over the last couple days. She somehow felt that by touching the ring, she was connecting herself to Draco in some bazaar way. She snorted at her own logic. How stupid…

And yet it comforted her. She didn't know why something so stupid would, but it worked. She gently closed her eyes, reawakening her mind's memories to every single picture that involved Draco.

She could see him so clearly. His blond hair blowing crazily in the wind as both he and Harry were diving for the snitch and the one time where he caught it, beating the Boy-who-lived. Both boys' faces were set in determined grimaces, knowing that in one single second, one boy would be humiliated, another glorified. And Draco had noticed the bludger before Harry did, trying to give him a cry of warning but he was too slow. Harry had been knocked off his broom and Draco's fingers had come in contact with the golden snitch. They automatically closed over it and the crowd went wild. Hermione had run down to the field when Harry had fallen off his broom, being caught by a soft mist from Dumbledore's wand. Before she returned to looking Harry over, she took a glance at Draco who was hoisted up in the air by his teammates. And she could see the worry on his face and regret that he was being taken away from a person he could have helped. If people had taken the time to look at the Draco she knew, they would find a man who was both kind and considerate.

She remembered his laughing eyes after he had played a joke on someone, or had made a cunning remark that had ended up with the class laughing. He really was funny when he got into the mood. At first, it had taken a couple moments to get over the shock of Draco making a joke that wasn't a put down, and then the class would laugh uproariously. How his blue eyes captivated her so deeply, occasionally loosing her concentration on everything except on the mysterious blue orbs.

And his classic smirk. He was known in Hogwarts history for his smirk. Students had tired to impersonate it, but had never come close. It was the way his mouth worked, turning up more on one side, and then the matching glint in his eyes, it looked so good on him. Somehow, that smirk that she had once despised had grown to be one of the things that had made her feel warm and tingly inside, especially if she knew that he wasn't making fun of her. But even when he did, making her angry, she knew she couldn't stay that way for long. He could be serious, look her straight in the eye with clear blue eyes. No glints, no twinkles, just plain eyes that told her that he wasn't kidding.

She even could recall how he walked. He always walked with his head held high, a trait his father had forced him to take on. And although he tried to get rid of it, he never did loose that sureness in his stride. He never did falter in his gaze, always was the champion whenever he had staring matches, especially with Hermione at meal times. The only time he would lower his eyes would be if he felt ashamed. And he had to be really ashamed to do it too.

As she stood, thinking of old pastimes, large droplets of water were falling from the heavy clouds, as if the dark gray piles were releasing their pain. She didn't pay any heed to it. Rain. He had saved her once from the rain. How that day stood so clearly in her mind. She could remember how the common room had smelled that day of dirty clothes and sweat. She could taste it in her mouth.

She had stormed out of the castle, absolutely infuriated with Ron because of something he said to her. The stupid arguments they had gotten into when they were younger. They were so immature. But this time, he had really ticked her off that the library couldn't cool her down, which was saying something. Without really thinking, she turned to the left and started to walk. She walked along the Forbidden Forest, occasionally walking into it for awhile before walking back out. She faintly felt raindrops and she thought, Good/ I hope I freeze to death, catch a cold leaving me on the brink of death/ Oh! how Ron would feel guilty. Stupid jerk. All of them, every single male out there on this planet is a jerk. Inconsiderate… I hope I do die. Maybe that'll teach him a lesson, let him live in regret for the rest of his life. Serves him right…

She was so deep into her thoughts--which was more of how to hurt Ron in a way in which he would regret for the rest of his life--that she didn't notice another presence near her. She remembered something pulling at her and she had ripped it away, thinking it was branch or something. It pulled again, harder this time, almost sending her crashing backwards onto her bottom but she retained her balance.

A thestral was pulling it towards her (she had seen death in her sixth year), it's gleaming white eyes staring unseeingly at her. Its leathery black wings twittered slightly and it took a couple more trembling steps to her. It was clearly old by the sagging of the skin against its bones and the white silver hairs that streaked down its back and sides. It made a whimper that resembled a shrill, painful howl that made her flinch. What did it want? Weren't these things only attracted to blood? She gasped in realization.

It had come early. She cursed under her breath. Why oh why did it have to kick up again, now? And usually it wasn't that much, but she could faintly remember that the previous month had been light, so by calculation of her body…

She groaned, and ripped her robe out of its mouth. These things weren't vicious…right? She gulped nervously as the thestral seemed to scowl at her; it's white eyes narrowing. It stepped towards her again. "Don't panic, don't panic," Hermione chanted to herself.

But this thestral must have been really hungry because it made quicker--for its age anyway--attempts to grab her. It was seriously considering in eating her. "OK, now is the time to panic," she whispered.

Hermione noticed that the thing had made her back step into the Forbidden Forest. "I am seriously screwed," she told herself, trying to swallow her heart that was beating in her throat. She had to think. She had to clear her mind. What would Dumbledore do? What would Harry do?

Hermione, dear, Dumbledore and Harry are guys. They don't get periods! She snapped at herself. You're on your own, sweetie.

Hermione tried to get past the thing, running as quickly as she could past the horse-like creature but it seemed to be quicker than she realized, cutting her off and snapping it's teeth in warning at her. Plus, the motivation for food seemed to be giving him energy. It reared up on its hind legs and she knew what was next. She let out a blood-chilling scream as the creature jumped on her. It bit with its sharp teeth at her clothes, ripping her robes and cutting into her delicate skin. She screamed again, screaming for help.

She was loosing hope. The rain was pouring into her eyes. So this is how I'll die, she thought to herself between her screams, they'll just find a mangled corpse and a robe. She started to cry at the idea. Her mind brought up the words she had spoken to herself earlier. I wonder if he would miss me? If he was sorry. I guess I'll never know. Oh! I'm so sorry, Ron! Harry…always stuck in the middle of our row. I'm sorry, Harry. I love you both…never forget that…

She let out a agonizing, painful howl that disturbed the birds in the trees as the thestral bit lightly into her shoulder, releasing blood and arousing it. She heard what sounded like a battle cry and then the thestral backed off. Something had jumped on it, kicking and punching like a demon possessed creature. She propped herself up on her elbows. She had grown weak from fighting the thestral, purple and red bruises already appearing on her skin that was trickling with blood. Looking through the haze of the falling rain, she saw a flash of blond hair and a black robe.

"Draco?" she whispered in a question. She fell back, breathing heavily. Her shoulder was throbbing insanely, like a drum repeatedly being hit. She didn't know how long she laid there, but it felt like an eternity. The pain was slowing down time, almost. "Help me. Save me."

"Hermione?" Draco called out urgently. She slid her gaze over to him, looking through half closed eyes as he demanded, "What happened?"

"Thestrals…smelled blood…lured me in here…attacked…tried to fight …so…tried…help me Draco…"she whispered. She watched tiredly as he took off his robes, revealing a white muscle shirt and jeans. The rain was wetting the shirt, making it stick to his body and even though she was exhausted from her fight and the blood lose, she still blushed as she look intently at his muscles. He really did have a nice body under those robes.

He covered her in his robe and scooped her into his arms and started to run back to the castle. "Hermione, stay with me," he begged as he ran.

How many times had she thought of what would have happened if he hadn't shown up? Her courageous knight, fearless dragon. As she was lowered into a bed in the hospital wing, she silently whispered to him, "Thank you, Draco. I owe you my life."

"Shh," he hushed. "Save your energy."

"The boy's right, young lady," Madam Pomfrey as she hurriedly cleaned and bandaged Hermione's wound. Even though the old nurse tried to get Draco to leave, he refused, rubbing her hand comfortingly until she fell asleep and even when she woke up he was there, telling what happened to Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape. She remembered that she had feigned sleep, encouraging him to keep hold her hand. He had such a warm touch. That was when he was accepted into their little group, Hermione easier than the boys did. He saved her in the rain, one of her fearless heroes.

~*~

Hermione wondered if she stayed in the rain long enough this time, if he would come and save her again. But she was soaked to the bone and no one had come. Hot tears started to mix with the rain dripping down her face.

So this is what if felt like. Is this what Harry felt when Sirius fell behind the Veil? She hadn't actually witnessed it, but the after effects were enough for her. Did Harry feel so helpless, so alone and empty inside? She only could wonder.

"Why'd you go, Draco? Why didn't you stay?" she screamed at the mound. She was so angry. It was strange how someone who was once sad could feel such anger in a second. It was like a completely different person had taken the girl's place. Her curly hair was matted to her head, her clothes were sticking tightly to her body, her makeup smeared completely. She was disoriented, so unlike the Hermione who made sure everything was neat and tidy. How different she had become in the span time of a couple moments.

She roughly grabbed for the ring around her neck. Her breaths came into sharp gasps, trying to control the tipsy emotions inside of her. She glared at the ring. She yanked it off her neck and she threw it at grave. She glared at it, and after a few moments of wondering what she had just done, she dove towards the flowers in which the ring had been buried. She dug frantically. She had to find it! It was the last thing she had of him, the last thing…Why the hell had she thrown it?!

She sobbed and gave a yelp of relief at seeing the silver band glisten in the rain. She grabbed at it, scooping it into her hand and holding it to her chest. She kneeled over, her forehead touching the grass and her legs tucked under her. She held the ring with trembling fingers. I'm so sorry, Draco. Never again, never again, she chanted to herself. He ragged breaths came up in small clouds as the rain continued to pour. It was cold outside, and yet her mind and body were oblivious to it. Only recognizing the pain inside.

It was inconceivable that a few days ago she had been waiting at her house, waiting for him to ring her doorbell. Her heart had been so light and carefree, never knowing the dangerous words that would destroy her. She had wanted to kiss him breathless when he opened that door, and it was a good thing she had noticed Harry before she did that. Think of the horror, kissing Harry. If Hermione had been in a calm state when she was thinking this, she probably would have blushed, but she was too angry. How could he leave her like this? Why didn't he use that stupid spell Harry had come up with in seventh year?

Yes, she knew of the spell. Harry and shown here and it was quite odd to see two Harry's doing different things at the same time--although she did clean the house three times quicker with the two Harry's help. She hadn't even thought of the spell until Harry brought it up. They were sitting in her small kitchen, drinking tea quietly, and silently comforting each other without words. He had slammed his cup down, startling Hermione who almost dropped her teacup in her lap. He cursed loudly, making Hermione's eyes widen in surprise at his language but she quickly let it go as she noticed him gripping his hand. Grabbing his hand, she led him quickly to the sink where she stuck his hand under the cool running water. He sighed, tears prickling at his eyes.

She wondered if he was crying at the pain in his hand (the tea had been hotter than usual) or if it was something else and she was leaning more to the latter. She didn't even have to say it; he could read it from her movements.

"I don't understand," he muttered, looking blankly at the running water that changed its shape constantly.

"What?" she asked, removing his hand to wipe it with a dish towel, then took her wand, murmuring healing spells to take away the damage. Not all accidents to the human body can immediately be cured by magic. She watched as the red, slightly burned skin fad away, leaving his natural skin color. He nodded his thanks and then looked at her.

"Why he didn't use the spell," he told her. He had taught it to Draco. It was a difficult spell, but nothing too hard for Draco to handle. If it wasn't for his looks, or his name that people knew of, it was his knowledge and understanding in magic. She blinked. Why hadn't he used it? He would have still been here then, unless…

"Maybe he's still out there. He just doesn't want to be seen." Harry told himself.

"Harry…"she said in a don't-get-carried-away tone.

"I know. I know. I was just hoping, always hoping…"he fell into silence and she felt a wave of pity wash over her. She embraced him in a sisterly way, rubbing his back soothingly.

"I think," she began, choosing her words carefully," I think Draco didn't want to live with only half of his mind, soul or life intact. And we never had gone farther in that spell. What if something worse had happened if part of you was killed? What if he was still alive but he couldn't be seen? Like an invisible ghost or something? Draco wouldn't have wanted that. He told me once he never was afraid of dying, it was just leaving everyone behind that he was afraid of. He'd rather be all there, then to be part there."

"But…" Harry sighed. He knew he had lost the argument, or whatever they were having. Draco was always a proud fellow, despite how near the beginning of the battle he was scared of death. However, being scared of death did not always weaken your pride. If it was one thing Harry most admired and despised of Draco at the same time, it was his pride. It was wonderful that he wouldn't let anyone get above him or take advantage of him, but it did make him choose foolish choices, sometimes. "You're right, as always."

She didn't say anything. There was no need.

~*~

Hermione sighed at the memory. If Draco had had to choose between death, and living with half of himself, he would probably chose death. That was just the person he was. The anger inside of her was ebbing away, leaving her empty and sorrowful again. Sometimes she wished she felt nothing, not to be human. She closed her eyes sadly. Her Dragon Knight wasn't coming to save her. And it ate at her. She needed to do something, clear her mind…

A walk. That always helped. He would sometimes join her, being there just in case she wanted to talk about what was on her mind. Don't think of him! she hissed at herself. She turned and started to walk, but she kept talking glances over her shoulder, somehow hoping that he'd be there, waiting there in the rain, that maybe he had just been waiting for the right time to reveal himself of the spell. When she had exited out of the cemetery's black iron gates, she took one last look, seeing through the hills she had crossed and saw a grave, nothing more, nothing less.

She folded her arms across her chest and started to walk blindly. She was still crying, but very rarely. Once in awhile her nose would drip and she would have to sniff. The rain wasn't helping much either. She would let the tears occasionally fall from her eyes, sliding down her face and mixing with the rain. No one could tell.

As she walked, her mind kept traveling back to Draco. How was she going to get through this? She wrapped her arms tighter around herself as the rain came down harder and quicker. Hermione was completely unheeding of it. So preoccupied in her thought was she that she wasn't pulled out of her thoughts until she opened her eyes to finding herself lying on the sidewalk, a man siting in front of her as if he had been knocked down.

You idiot! You just had to go and knock someone down in the rain. Unlike you, who's absolutely freezing in the rain and drenched, you just had to get someone else soaked! She cursed herself.

"I'm so sorry--" she looked at the man she had knocked to the ground. She gasped, her eyes widening. It couldn't be. It was impossible! There were two blue eyes looking down at her, shinning with concern and warmth. She swallowed, her voice seemed to have disappeared but she was able to gasp out, "Draco?"

"Sorry, pretty miss. Bloody hell! You're completely soaked! Here, get under my umbrella, although the amount of good it'll do you know is very slim," he told her in a cheery, concerned voice while pulling her to her feet.

Hermione looked at the man. He wasn't Draco. She was stupid, delusional and she was a through-and-through moron. She should have known by the dark blue ring that circled his iris. Draco never had dark blue circles in his eyes, only flecks. But this man looked so much like him! He had blond hair that was chopped short, and gelled back in a professor kind of way. He had a face structure that resembled Draco's, almost the same height…she wondered if he had the same smirk…

A faint blush rose to her cheeks, making them feel like fire against the coldness of her skin. She gently shook her head. "Thank you for your kindness, sir--"

"Please don't call me that. I feel so old!" he smirked. She smiled. He didn't have his smirk and it was both a comforting and sad thought. Here she believed she had found Draco, or someone like him, but she'd rather have the true Draco, not a replica.. Draco was gone. No one could replace him; she should have realized that. It was stupid really.

"Then what should I call you by?" she asked.

"Call me whatever you wish, but if you'd really like to get my attention, you can call me Tyler Snape." Tyler replied, looking down at her.

Hermione's eyes widened in shock. He couldn't possibly be related to Grouchy, old Professor Snape, right? A wizard? "Snape? Are you related to Serverus Snape?"

"The one and only. I'm a cousin of his."

"Wow. Small world. He was my Potions Professor when I was attending Hogwarts," she informed him.

"Mine too."

"You attended Hogwarts?"

"Partially for first year. Severus taught me during the summer when Father had me transferred to Drumstrang," her grimaced as if recalling unpleasant memories. "I always wished I had gone to Hogwarts. I heard it was magical. I once went there too, while I was in Drumstrang, for the Triwizard Tournaments. I didn't enter. I was underage, but I tagged along anyway. It really was magical. We talked about that castle the whole trip back and even into the next year. So many of us longed to go back there…"

"It is a magical place…" she agreed. Hermione, much to her dismay, sneezed at the moment, catching Tyler's attention.

"Oh hells bells! I completely forgot! Here we are, standing in the rain--although it would make a very romantic moment--talking like old chums and your catching your death! Here, come get a cup of coffee with me. We'll get you warmed up in no time with a couple spells and a drink," he invited, almost urged. She smiled at how fast he talked.

"I really must be going. I'm sorry for making you fall in the rain. You must be just as wet as I am." It wasn't as if she didn't mind the offer. Tyler wasn't a bad looking guy; he was pretty decent, almost falling under the category of hot. It was just that the pain of Draco's death was still raw inside of her that she didn't think she was ready, to have a man who looked so much like Draco, reminding her of him.

"Please. I insist. I feel really bad considering I bumped you off your feet." Tyler's eyes were begging her, and she felt weak at the knees. "Please, Miss--what was your name?"

"Hermione. Hermione Granger," she said, watching with amusement as Tyler's eyes widened.

"Hermione? THE Hermione Granger? Well now I really feel like scum. I just plowed the beautiful, right hand woman of Harry Potter," he moaned, his face suddenly paling in alarm, and he hid behind her, looking over her small shoulders. She couldn't resist smiling; he looked ridiculous!

"Tyler! What on earth?" she asked bewildered.

"Shhh!" he hissed. "I think I can see your two chums walking down the streets. They look pissed. Oh good Merlin! I'm in for it now!"

She was tempted to look back, wondering if her two friends really were behind her, but noticing the bright twinkle in his blue eyes, she gave him a playful shove, laughing, "You're such an over actor."

"Thank you. Now, will you let me make up for treating you so badly and let me buy you a cup of coffee?" he asked again for the fourth or fifth time.

"But I bumped into you. It was my fault."

"Hermione, please, let me have the honor of escorting you? Please?"

She bit her lip, still contemplating. She lowered her eyes. It didn't feel right.

"We can talk about Draco if you want," he said in a low voice. She looked up at him with startled eyes. How did he know Draco? He seemed to read her thoughts, for he added, "You said his name when you first bumped into me. And many times in the past, we've always been mixed up because we looked so much alike--don't ask me how it worked out because Draco's my second cousin. We grew up together before we split up for school. Besides, he always came to Uncle Snape's Manor (even though Serverus is my cousin, I call him Uncle because he's so much older than we were) and we'd play together.."

"How'd you know--Draco--that I wanted to talk about him?"

"Draco once told me through letters about you. He liked you, you know. He didn't have to write it down; I could just tell. And I knew you liked him. I can see it in your eyes. You would not hold such pain if you considered him more than a friend. And I saw you at the funeral. I was in the back, and I left before they lowered him into the ground, but I saw you…and your pain."

"Tyler…you are one of the most interesting people I've ever met in my life." Hermione blurted. Tyler seemed to have a sixth sense about these kind of things. And even through a couple letters, and a look at her eyes, he was able to tell so much about her. She was, needless to say, astonished.

"Alright then, Tyler. I guess one cup of coffee wouldn't hurt," she smiled as the smirk formed on his face. Surprisingly, it comforted her slightly. She needed to talk to someone.

Tyler held out his arm in a gentlemanly way, bowing slightly. It was something that Draco would do. Again, she was surprised how his name didn't bring tears to her eyes. Taking it, she looked at Tyler. The umbrella was held above their heads, but both of them were more than wet. And so they walked down the street, talking at each other like old friends.

Her hero had saved her in the rain. Although not in the same form or person, but he had reached out to her. She smiled to herself. Hermione knew that would be just the thing Draco would do for her. He had saved her, like the fearless knight, courageous dragon he was. Why he wasn't in Gryfinndor, Hermione would never understand, but if he hadn't, nothing would have turned out the way it was. They might not have fallen madly in love, share the strong, unique bond they shared, and maybe even the war would have gone differently. As it was, Hermione silently look over her shoulder at the path that she had taken from the cemetery and mouthed, "Good bye, love."

She turned to look at Tyler, letting her fingers release the ring she had been unconsciously stroking tenderly.

The End

~*~

A/N: Practice drill! Go, press the button and write about what you thought of this fic! Go, go, go!!! *lowers drill sergeant whistler*

Well there you have it folks! My little Draco and Hermione fic, coming to an end. Yes, that's right people, it is finished! *sniff*

First of all, I was wondering if you guys liked Tyler Snape? I wanted him to be related to Draco so he could resemble Draco a lot. If I were to continue this story *cough* sequel *cough*, then I guess I could describe him better and why Hermione is slightly confused and everything. Did I make her sound confused? Second, Tyler is mine. As far as I know, there isn't a Tyler Snape.

I hope this clears it up for you guys. I hope I didn't stray too out of character. *Grins sheepishly* Any questions, you can just add in your review (MAJOR HINT HERE) and leave your email address so I can reply to you. But then again, you could just review even if you don't have questions.

Thank you for all your reviews from the previous two chapters! And thank you especially for the ones who came back and reviewed for my story.

Now…after you've finished with this, go and review! Please? *BIG puppy eyes*

Here I go chanting! I wish…I wish…I wish…I wish…_

*sniff* This'll be the last time I'll be doing this little routine thing for this story. It's sorta sad to think about it. Man, I should start on a long chapter story…what do you think? ^_~