Note: Okay, so I know this is short and random, but that's okay because it's supposed to be short and random… I think. Whatever. It's something and I wrote it, so now I'm posting it. Set during Book Seven. Enjoy.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. GASP.
Hermione goes to six funerals in four months – it should be seven, but Seamus Finnegan's mother refuses to hold a service until she's got a body to bury. She only has one black dress, and it's stupid, but she's starting to feel a bit self-conscious about it. Her parents send her money to buy a new outfit, but she comes to her senses while standing in the checkout line at Madame Malkin's and spends it on a set of second-hand Muggle encyclopedias instead.
Ron only goes to five funerals because he comes down with the flu the day they put Kingsley Shacklebolt in the ground. He feels guilty missing it, but reckons it'd be worse if he were to show up and accidentally hurl all over the casket. The thought makes him smile a little – it'd certainly be a break in the monotony. He actually almost chuckles, then remembers himself and feels sick in a way that has nothing to do with his illness.
Harry goes to seven funerals. He dons his invisibility cloak and sneaks into Draco Malfoy's wake. It's possibly the most dangerous, irresponsible, ridiculously stupid thing he's ever done, but he doesn't get caught, so he doesn't regret it. He doesn't hate Malfoy anymore – well, maybe he does, a little, but that isn't why he goes. He goes because he needs to, and he can't explain it, but he doesn't really have to because this is war, after all, and the rules have changed. He glances into the casket and sees what he needs to and leaves before the service starts.