"Every second here without you, I pretend we're skin to skin.

Every single breath reminds me that you never ever left.

Every time I think about you, I can feel my hand give in,

Cause you're keeping me safe and warm

Even when I'm home alone

Wearing nothing but your cologne."

- 'Cologne', Selena Gomez

Oh Sweet Salazar... Those were her parents. How on earth were her parents here? Their memories? What the fucking hell was happening?

"The memory spell cast by Hermione has become invalid now." – Harry said softly, sitting beside him.

Of course. Memory spells can only be undone if its caster willingly undoes it, or if the caster dies. He could only imagine what amount of heartache they were going through.

"May I have your attention please? ... Thank you. Ladies and gentlemen, as you all know, we are here to share our grief over the loss of an extremely talented, bright and incredible witch who went by the name of Hermione Jean Granger." - Albus Dumbledore started to speak.

Draco was pulled out of his thoughts by a collective gasp and audible creaking of the chairs as the audience turned to look at him to check if he really was THE Draco Malfoy. He ran a hand through his hair, and slowly walked up to the podium in front.

"I know most of you have the same question in mind.

'What is he doing here? He should be in Azkaban. Paying for all the crimes he has committed.'

Yeah. That is where I would have been, if not for her. See, I am not here to justify my actions as a kid, nor am I here to try and redeem myself in front of you all. I am just here to say goodbye to the most incredible woman I have ever met in my life. I am here to pay my respect to the strongest and bravest lady ever. The girl who stood up for what she believed in.

I'm here to say thank you to the woman who changed my life, my thoughts, my beliefs, and me. Hermione Granger.

She was loved by most, envied by many, despised by some, but feared and respected by all. And me, I find myself falling in all of these categories. I envied her intelligence, her loving family, her ability to make friends, her ability to forgive and love. I despised her bravery, and loyalty to Potter and Weasley because of which, she often found herself in dangerous situations. I despised her because she made me rethink my actions, and challenged my way of life, my beliefs. But in the end, I knew I really loved and respected her. Believe me, I didn't want to, but I did. As a matter of fact, I still do."

As another collective gasp rose from the audience, Draco looked up to face them.

"So, to answer your question, I'm here to say goodbye to the girl I love."

It was starting to rain. He stood there alone, next to the beautiful marble headstone, a black rose in his hand.

"You know, Hermione, this hurts. I know you wouldn't want me to cry for you, but this just hurts so much."

He ran his hand across the carvings on the stone, and knelt down.

Hermione Jean Granger

(1979 – 2000)

Daughter, Friend, Gryffindor Princess, War Heroine

There will never be anyone quite like her.

Never. – He thought.

During the funeral, the coffin had been sealed shut by Dumbledore for some reason, and he never got the chance to see her face.

"It really should have been me. Not you, but me. It should have been me. I deserved this fate. How is it that, after all I have done, I get to live while you...don't?"

He stuttered, shivering slightly from the cold. Leaning forward, he laid the lone rose on her grave and stood up to leave.

"I will find them, Hermione, and they will pay for what they did to you. I swear."

As if suddenly remembering something, he checked his pockets and pulled out a wand. Her wand. Picturing his first meeting with Hermione near the Lake, he whispered, "Expecto Patronum." He half expected the wand to reject him, but miraculously, it didn't.

White light swirled around him, and his usual patronus – a peacock appeared before him. Just as he was about to speak again, the misty light swirled around as if it was disappearing. Draco had never seen anything like it. In place of the peacock, there was now the shape of another animal.

It was an otter. Her patronus.

Draco felt as if his heart was being wrenched out from his chest. His knees buckled and he collapsed onto the cold, wet ground again. The rain came down harder and the wind started to howl around him. The grey mist threatened to engulf him and thunderclaps were being heard in a distance. It seemed as if Mother Nature had joined Draco to mourn.

When he reached the Manor, he was soaked to the bone. Sprinting upstairs, he opened his closet and pulled out the ring from his tuxedo. He pulled his drawer open and took out a silver chain. Unclasping the chain, he slid it through the ring as if threading a needle. When he was done, he wore it around his neck.

Narcissa was standing in the doorway, watching her son.

That must have been the engagement ring. – She thought, sadly.

She watched as he brought out a glass bottle from his drawer. It was some kind of perfume – a cologne. She watched as he uncapped the bottle and inhaled the subtle fragrance of orange, apricot and osmanthus, and then stood in a trance-like state. Narcissa decided that she had seen enough, and stepped into the room.

"Draco... Is that hers?" – She asked gently.

Draco spun around and faced her with bloodshot eyes, and damp hair. His clothes were all wet and muddy.

"Yes." – That was all he said, before placing the bottle on his table.

"Mother, I have decided to leave. To look for the ones responsible." – Draco rushed out, without looking in her eyes.

Narcissa was not surprised.

"As you should. But please be careful, dear." – She said, holding back tears. She had already lost her husband, and now, she was losing her son. But she knew there was no way he would stay. Not after all that had happened. So, she let him go.

Draco merely nodded, and turned towards his closet, bringing out fresh clothes. Narcissa knew this was her cue to leave, and so, she looked at her son for a long time, before walking out of his room.

Draco Malfoy stood near the gates of the Manor, her wand in his hand. His briefcase, containing his files, books, her photographs and her cologne, was in his other hand. The rain had stopped and all that remained was the grey ghostly fog swirling around him. Taking one last look towards the Manor, he walked out into the mist.