Disclaimer: No no no you are mistaken I am not J.K. Rowling, I look nothing like her. Wait I told you I am not her! So all of you reporters get away! Now!

Author's note: This is my saddest chapter yet, it has to be. Now review like a good reader!

Chapter 8

Tears fell down her face, whenever she had a bad day. She knew she could talk to her parents. Whenever she had a problem, she could talk to them. There could be hundreds of miles separating them, yet she still would feel close to them. That was because she knew she could call them or owl them at any time. Sure during her first year she felt homesick quite often. By second year though she was fine. She knew she could come home anytime, her parents told her that thousands of times.

Now she didn't feel close to them. Even standing right next to their bodies, she felt like a piece of her died with them. She didn't realize it, but that piece of her wasn't small. A big part of her was gone.

Draco put his hands on her shoulders and walked her over to one of the church's pews. Slowly everyone made their way from the coffins to their seats.

"The Granger's were a happy couple with a daughter. They, as most of you know, were dentists. Which is how most of you know them. They meant a lot to every one of us. They were good people and we gather here to honor their deaths...", the preacher droned on and on.

Hermione didn't pay attention for long. Everything became a blur. She couldn't hear the preacher. All she could do is think about those coffins, filled with her parents dead bodies. She started crying silently. Draco softly stroked the top of her head, trying his best to comfort her.

Hermione had always loved to sing. She grabbed for a songbook when it was time to sing. When they began to sing she tried to, but the words would not come out. It was like a hand was pulling on the words keeping them from coming out. She cried harder and harder as she mouthed the words.

Everyone had left after the Granger's were buried. No one remained except for Hermione and Draco.

Hermione stood looking at their graves. The shiny gray stone with their names carved into it. Those names seemed to flash and stand out. They seemed to say 'look look we are dead, you are all alone now'.

She fell down and down. Everything seemed to be in slow motion as she fell. Closer and closer to the ground she went. Her knees hit their gravestone roughly. She sat there and sobbed. It began raining, which seemed to match her mood.

She pulled back her hair which had fallen into her caramel brown eyes. Looking up to the sky she screamed in anguish, "I am sorry, so sorry".

She began to howl, "Why? Why won't you return to me? Return to me and heal the damage you have done."

She started pounding her fists against the gravestone in frustration. Draco sitting back and watching the scene before him unwind. She howled in pain and frustration. The rain falling into her face blending with her tears. She was heart broken, and he watched.

Most people would run and try to stop her. Did Draco? No, he waited. He had experienced this before; he couldn't help her right now. She didn't need any hugs, sorries, comforting words, or shoulders to cry on. No she had to let her pain from inside flow out.

She kept on beating her fists onto the grave until they started to bleed. Blood flowed from her knuckles, running down her arm, and eventually being washed away in the rain. Right now she was washing away the pain. Her heart ache.

After what seemed like hours she stopped beating her fists against the stone. She sat there, hunched over sobbing her heart out.

Draco stepped over to her. Bending down he drew her into a hug. She cried into his shoulder as they sat on the ground. Draco was softly rocking her.

"I know you probably don't want to stand out here in the rain, I am sorry", she sobbed.

"No no it is okay. The angels are crying for your loss", he explained to her.

She looked up at the sky as if she expected to see angels weeping. Her sobs turned to silent cries.

They sat there the rain falling down, like tears from weeping angels. Hermione's head on Draco's chest, clinging to his shirt. Draco softly was stroking her hair.

They sat there not realizing that they were beginning something that most people would call friendship. There they were not admitting that they were friends and were finally getting along. Not realizing that they needed each other to live, to heal each other. To bring each other back to life.

The rain stopped, the angels ceased their sobs. Hermione and Draco both looked up. They both stood up and apparated away.

Both saying their goodnights, they walked to their separate bedrooms. And maybe in that moment everything was okay. Maybe in that moment that they shared in the graveyard gave them a small piece of life back to them. No they weren't two happy people who were completely healed of all pain. No they still felt pain. Not the kind pain you feel when you get a cut or a scratch. No a physical pain but a deeper pain. A pain that was within.

Even though they both still felt pain everything in that moment was okay. It was a sign that things were going to be okay.