A/N
Basically all you need to know is that the war continued on after the battle of Hogwarts and Hermione and Draco are partners in the war. They have worked together for just over a month when this story takes place. Please read, review and favorite!
21st July, 2001
The raindrops tracked an ice cold path down the back of his neck as he and his companion fought through the jungle to reach the cave. Unable to use their wands for fear of being caught by magic sensing wards, they were reduced to muggle means.
Draco wound his way through damp bushes and jumped over a log as he fought to keep up with his order partner, Hermione Granger. She was far fitter than him, having done this for many more years then he had. He tripped over a rock, and swore. Her footsteps faded away and when he stood up he couldn't hear her anymore. The rain was pouring down even faster now and he could barely hear himself think.
"Granger! Where are you? Hello?"
He called out. Her answering call was almost drowned out by the down pouring of rain, but he heard it.
"I've found the cave!"
His breathing harshened as he followed where he thought the voice had come from. The light was fading fast and he was slightly worried for their safety. Lost in thought, Draco crashed into something in front of him and when he untangled himself from it, he backed up and yanked out his knife from his belt. Thankfully it was only Hermione. He almost snickered at that thought. Since when had that been a good thing?
"Are you going to continue gawking or are you going to get your arse inside?"
He schooled his flushed face into a look of disinterest before nodding sharply. He stalked past her into the cave, noting a broken ancient looking cup sitting on a rock next to a makeshift table. It appeared this cave had been a sanctuary for more than one human being over the years.
He opened the rucksack on his back, thankful that the charms on the backpack had held much better than those cast on their clothes which were soaked through. He pulled out the pieces of wood charmed to feel lighter and the muggle lighter. He arranged the pieces of wood into a campfire-esque pile before lighting it. Hermione sat down huddling next to the fire as they heated what remained of the trout they had caught earlier that day.
The two unlikely companions sat eating the meager food, watching the rain pour down. Draco's mind went to his Mother, the reason he had ever defected. She was dead now, along with every other person he had ever loved.
A crack of lightning lit up the scene in front of him, a tree's spindly fingers crawling up the ground for a brief second before the lightning was gone. The world looked darker without the streak of light, and somehow he missed it though it had only been there for a second. He counted the seconds in his head remembering something. One...two...three...four...five… A boom of thunder crashed into his senses, startling him, and as he tried to catch the wisp of a thought he asked a question.
"Hey Granger, how do you calculate how far lightning is again?"
She was silent for a few seconds before replying.
"Divide the seconds by five. This storm is a mile away. Why do you ask?"
The memory resurfaced, as if the chains holding it in place had been loosened. Sitting on the windowsill in the manor next to his mother who was dripping with rain, counting. Burying his head in her shoulder as the thunder boomed.
"My mother and I used to do it. She used to tell me that the thunder was the gods crying out in anguish."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Gods don't exist. There's no proof, and besides why would anyone give us the power of magic. Some god."
Draco furrowed his brow. "I suppose it depends on what you count as evidence."
Hermione shrugged. Silence fell between the two, the storm continuing to batter the land in front of them. Hermione rested her head on her knee, staring out into the gale storm. Draco followed suit, assuming the conversation was over.
The violent display of nature was strangely beautiful to him, reminding him of the witch sitting next to him. Hermione chose the moment to cut through the thoughts before he could analyse them, voicing a question she had obviously been thinking about for a while.
"Do you think we could ever be friends?"
Draco pondered the thought. It was an interesting one considering just how much they hated each other during their years at Hogwarts. Perhaps if things had been different, but in this reality, this timeline, there could only be one possible answer.
"No chance."
"Good, let's keep it that way, I get irritable when I have to bury my friends."
Her voice was hard and unforgiving, one that spoke of loss. Draco knew the tone well, one that he himself had used when his Mother had first died, unable to take it in. When Pansy had died, it had been another story. He had been an absolute mess, not because she had been his paramour but because she had been his best friend since forever. When she had died by Voldemort for betraying the cause the shock never showed, only pain and loss.
Hermione pulled out her sleeping bag from the rucksack and climbed in.
"I suggest you get some sleep, we have a long walk tomorrow."
Draco nodded, a short, sharp nod and pulled his own Gryffindor red sleeping bag out of his bag. He curled his lip at the colour. Gryffindors. Would their pride never cease? With that thought he climbed in and dreamed of peace.
16th September, 2006
The war was finally over, but at such a cost. Hermione adjusted her formal black robes uncomfortably. Three days. It had been three days since he had died.
Voldemort had challenged Harry in the middle of Muggle London, causing the whole of the Wizarding World to be exposed to the muggles. She smiled a little. Draco would have absolutely hated that, no matter how reformed he was. She slid her ring onto her finger, the green emerald glinting next to a deep ruby set in gold, catching the light. A promise ring. One of hope, and one that could never be fulfilled.
She attached her veil to her head and wound her scarf around her neck. How perfectly depressing.
The service was small, the only people attending being herself, Harry, Ron, Luna and surprisingly Professor McGonagall. As the casket was lowered into the ground, an unbidden tear dripped down her face. Harry looked questioningly in her direction but she shook her head, and walked towards the grave.
Once Harry, Ron and Luna left, she dropped to the ground and cried, her shields slipping. Some people become prettier when they cry but this was not the case for Hermione. Her face was mottled red and her tears dripped in streaking patterns, smudging her mascara.
"Ho...how c...could you die now? Y...yo...u promised you wouldn't!"
Her sobs slowly became laughs as she realised the irony.
"You were r...right, we never did become fri...friends, but here… I am burying my l...love. I miss you."
The sobs slowly became quiet tears and the storm of emotions cooled. She placed a bouquet of purple hyacinths and red roses, symbolizing the agony and love she felt for Draco Malfoy.
16th September, 2020
These days if you were to go to this certain graveyard on this certain you would see a forlorn looking woman standing in front of a simple headstone reading Draconis Malfoy, 5th June 1990 - 13th September, 2006. His bravery will forever be remembered.
This certain woman would be clutching a bouquet to her chest, one of purple hyacinths and red roses, symbolizing love.
If you followed this certain woman home, you would see she has a family. Two children, one girl and one boy who share their mothers untamable hair and her fire, but only one has their fathers red hair and blue eyes.
The other is pale and blonde, something Hermione insists comes from her family, but she knows the truth. It's her silver eyes that give it away.
Rose was a Malfoy.
A/N
Like? Don't like? Critique? I hope you liked it, I enjoyed writing it.