The Funeral

I thought my parents divorce was the end of the world, that was before Blaise died of a heart defect. And the world stopped. Or it should have.

I walked into Ginny's room, almost dreading it. When I finally entered she was just standing there, with a pile of clothes on her bed.

"You look like shit," she said in a shaky voice.

"Thanks."

I hugged her; and held her for a while. She broke away and held up a velvet black suit.

""What do you think?""

""I think it's a hundred degrees out.""

""What am I supposed to do? The only black clothes I have are winter clothes.""

""I don't think it matters, really. Here, this is dark green.""

""It's ugly, Hermione,"" she walked towards the bathroom, ""I'm just trying to think of something. Anything else for one single second.""

I nodded, I understood, and hugged her again. I sat down on the edge of her bed.

""I want to look good for him. Do I sound crazy?"" ""He gave me these,"" she pulled out a pair of gold earrings in the shape of teardrops.

"It makes no sense."

""Ginny, no one could have known. He has a heart defect."

The Church was full. Blaise's parents sat in the front. Ginny and I sat in back of them. Students and teachers everywhere else.

Dumbledore was speaking, " And, now, Mr. Draco Malfoy will address us…"

Draco stepped up to the podium. He was carrying a muggle boom box. He sat it own and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket.

""I was going to read, um…"" he crumpled the paper back up and put it in his pocket. ""I'm not very good at reading. Or writing. Or spelling. Not like Michael. He was good at so many things without having to try. He taught me how to be myself, by myself, how not to worry about what other people think, even if that means being completely uncool. He taught me about how to trust people, and how to love. Cause he was so good at it, you know. He loved his family, he loved his friends. He loved Quidditch, and he loved Ginny.""

He looked at her and smiled.

""And he loved this,"" he pushed play on the boom box and "Oh What A Wonderful World" began to play.

It was sweet and crazy.

Ginny grabbed my hand as we walked outside. Storm clouds gathered over head.

"I barely met his parents. I don't know what to say to them."

She just looked at me.

"Want me to?"

She shook her head "no" and went over to Blaise's parents alone.

More people began to file out of the Church, as thunder clapped. It began to rain. Hard.

The weather, it reminded me of something I once read in a book. Cosmic Irony. When the outside world, like the weather, reflects the inside world--what we're feeling. It happens more often in novels than in life.

I just stood there; getting drenched.