Chapter 22: The Funeral
"I already told you, these aren't my colors!" Draco shouted from the bathroom.
"Just put on the bloody skirt!" I shouted from my bedroom when I was doing my makeup.
He was silent for a few moments until I heard him quietly mutter, "So that's how that works. Merlin, bras are uncomfortable."
I bit my lip to keep from laughing outright as I pinned my hair up. For the funeral I took extra care on my appearance, debating on whether to put my hair up or not. I eventually decided to keep my hair down. Even after getting completely ready Draco still hadn't emerged from the bathroom.
With a sigh, I pounded on the bathroom door. "You're going to be late to your own funeral!"
Reluctantly Draco emerged disguised as Hazel, wearing a ghastly black pencil skirt and blazer, accented with salmon trim. He walked better in high heels than I had expected, possibly better than I could.
"By Merlin's baggy pants, everything women wear is a bloody torture device. Where am I supposed to put my wand?" he demanded.
"You'll figure something out. Now come on, we need to do your hair and makeup." I instructed.
Draco reluctantly obeyed, allowing me to pin his hair up in a simple chignon. As I bombarded his face with creams and powders, he recoiled. "This is cruel and unusual punishment!"
"This is just a natural makeup look," I said, daintily applying blush. "Now I need you to keep your eyes open and stay completely still, or I might accidentally stab your eye."
He looked paralyzed as I did his mascara. Afterwards, Draco (as Hazel) looked like he had barely escaped death. "I will never criticize a girl on her makeup again."
"If you're finished being dramatic we can leave and maybe get to your funeral on time. Remember, your name is Hazel, you work for MACUSA. You're supposed to speak as little as possible," I drilled him.
"I'm aware," Draco said, sounding incredibly British.
"This is a terrible idea," I said, massaging my temples. "Let's go."
We apparated to the gates of Malfoy Manor, where a mass of reporters clamored. Arm in arm with Draco/Hazel, I quickly spotted Harry drowning in the flook of reporters. I wasn't the biggest fan of reporters in the first place, but when I heard them obbing Harry with questions about his engagement right before a funeral, it made my blood boil.
Draco/Hazel in tow, I marched up to the flock of reporters and said scathinglhy," Excuse me, but Harry and I have a funeral to attend. Have some respect for the dead."
Slightly ashamed, the reporters eased up enough that Harry was able to extricate himself and slip through the gates.
"You're a lifesaver, 'Mione," Harry said. "I never would've gotten out of there without you."
"Don't mention it," I said, distractedly yanking Draco/Hazel away from where he was all but gawking at the other funeral goers.
"It's good to see you, Hazel," Harry said a bit reluctantly.
Draco's eyes immediately shot to me, panicked, but I cut in. "She's a bit overwhelmed by England. We should catch up at my house after the funeral, just the three of us."
Harry nodded seriously, catching the look in my eyes. We stood there a bit longer until Draco nudged me, urging us to move on.
"Yeah, just apparate to my house after the funeral," I said emphatically to Harry.
"Your house, not your flat. Got it," Harry said, waving before someone else lured him into a conversation.
All attendees of the funeral were milling about the gardens of Malfoy Manor, and it almost appeared that it was a social event. It was certainly a bit more lively than the few pureblood dinners and teas I'd witnessed.
Draco and I milled about, letting other people engage us in conversation. For the most part I simply whispered to Draco everyone's name and relationship to him.
"Miss Granger?" someone asked from behind me. I turned around to find Astoria Greengrass, her eyes red from a recent bout of crying.
"Miss Greengrass. It's nice to meet you at last. I only wish it had been under better circumstances," I said honestly.
Astoria was lovely in a delicate way, and she looked especially ephemeral in her heavy black mourning clothes. Her lip quivered. "I… I heard of your determination to protect Draco, and later to find him. They say that you were the only reason that they… that his body was found. You're a saint, Miss Granger. You devoted so much time to Draco despite his past actions. I just wanted to thank you."
"I only wish it had ended differently," I said, trying my best to sound genuine. Then, before we could continue our conversation, Astoria was called away.
Draco/Hazel stared after her. "Who was that?" he whispered to me.
"Astoria Greengrass. Your families have been trying to orchestrate a marriage between the two of you for years," I said quietly. "I don't know why it hasn't happened. Today is the first time I've ever met Astoria."
Draco watched Astoria intently enough that my chest felt a little tight, but I did my best to brush it off.
"Granger!" a voice just loud enough to be deemed inappropriate called.
I twirled around at lightning speed. "You are at a funeral, Zabini," I hissed. "Act respectful."
"Calm down, Granger. Half of the gits here are just anxious to see what will happen to the obscenely massive Malfoy fortune," Blaise said with a grin. Glancing at Draco/Hazel, he wrinkled his nose at what Draco was wearing. It was subtle enough that I probably would have been the only person who noticed.
"Regardless, that doesn't mean you get to act like this," I berated him. "If you do anything mildly disrespectful in front of the Malfoys I swear to Merlin I will enchant your office again."
"Fine, I'll behave. But stop being so rude and introduce me to your… friend," Blaise said.
"This is Hazel. You can officially meet her at my house right after the funeral because you and Harry are coming over," I said primly.
"Your house, not your flat?" Blaise asked.
"Exactly. You'll understand when you get there. Now go mingle. Did I see your mother here? I know she moved to France, but you might want to make sure she's not hunting for her next husband," I said.
Blaise followed my gaze and cursed. "I haven't talked to the woman in three years and she still manages to swoop in at the worst time possible. I'll be there, Granger. Mother! Mother, that man is still married."
At Draco's questioning look, I explained, "That's Blaise Zabini, your best friend. Zabini is also one of my closest friends since we've both worked at the Ministry."
"Is this another mudbl- muggleborn, friend of yours, Granger?" Pansy Parkinson interrupted, casually strolling up to us, full wine glass in hand.
"Pansy, making your parents as proud as ever I see," I said drily.
"Mother's been trying to convince me to tell everyone that Draco and I eloped the summer of our fifth year," Pansy said, swirling the wine in her glass. "But my parents made their bed, they can lay in it. That is the Muggle phrase, right? Anyway, I quite enjoy working, having a purpose other than looking pretty. But really Granger, who is this girl in the horrible outfit?"
Pansy worked in the mailroom of the Ministry, and we had built a strange friendship over the years after the war. Most of the time she took things a bit too far, but I secretly enjoyed her and her blunt honesty.
Now was one of those times, but I immensely grateful that the real Hazel wasn't here. Clearing my throat I said, "This is my friend Hazel. She's American, and we've been working together at MACUSA on some special projects."
"I remember hearing something about that. Well, I think I heard that they're starting the funeral soon. Now's the last chance to greet the Malfoys before the drudgery of Draco's inheritance becomes a topic of debate. You should go say hello," Pansy said before flouncing away in search of more wine.
I glanced at Draco. "Do you want to go give your condolences to your parents?"
He hesitated. "I would like to meet them, yes."
We worked our way towards the front of the garden where a white marble casket lay, flanked by Draco's parents. Both Lucius and Narcissa were standing stoically, looking almost as if they were carved out of the same marble as the casket. The only sign of emotion between the two of them was the occasional tear quickly swiped away by Narcissa. I didn't know why I was suddenly felt so nervous, but we were already almost to Narcissa. If I wanted to turn back, it would have to be-
"Miss Granger," Narcissa said, her eyes locking onto me. "I thank you for-"
"YOU MUDBLOOD WENCH," Lucius roared upon spotting me. "How dare you show your face here after you let my son die."
"I only came to pay my respects, Mr. Malfoy," I said as evenly as I could. All other attendees were silent, watching the scene unfold before them.
At my small interjection, Lucius clenched his jaw, his face contorted with rage. I didn't see his hand coming before he slapped me hard enough that I saw stars.
A collective gasp sounded, and more than a few people leapt to my defense, but Lucius grasped my hair in an iron grip. "You probably knew my son was dead when you offered to help. How you would have enjoyed laying your mudblook hands upon Malfoy gold. I won't let it happen. Your dirty, conniving self won't taint our last memories of our son."
With every word Lucius Malfoy pulled his hair farther and farther down, my head snapping back painfully. Anxious witches and wizards watched, but none quite knew ho to intervene without harming me as well.
"Petrificus totalus."
Lucius Malfoy's body seized up, and the slim hand of his wife released my hair. When she released the spell on her husband, she slapped his as soundly as he had me.
"You're truly reprehensible, Lucius. Miss Granger is the only person who has spared more than two seconds searching for our son, and she's the only reason his body was found," Narcissa said quietly. "Draco once treated her as you do and she cared more than the entire Ministry. And somehow you made this about the bloody fortune!"
"Narcissa, I-" Lucius tried to interrupt.
"No! You will let me grieve my son," Narcissa hissed. "If I hear one more mention of the Malfoy fortune today, you will be promptly escorted away.
Narcissa spoke with authority, despite the tears streaming down her cheeks, unchecked. Composing herself a bit, she turned to me. "I am truly sorry, Miss Granger. If you wish to, I would love to have you, but if you would rather not I understand perfectly."
Everything stung. My head was spinning and there was a palpable tension surrounding me. I was undecided until my eyes landed on Draco , who was nearly vibrating with anger.
I swallowed a few times. "I really do wish to convey my deepest condolences." With that, I linked arms with Draco and apparated us to my house.
Draco immediately began examining my cheek. My scalp throbbed. But if Draco knew how much it hurt me he was liable to hunt down his father.
I smiled thinly. "I'm just going to use some muggle remedies: Tylenol and ice. But why don't we both change into comfortable clothes? Unless you want to wear that as Draco Malfoy."
That was all it took for him to rush to his room. Meanwhile I meandered to mine, slipping into sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt. I then sought my massive bottle of Tylenol and several ice packs.
Draco found me sprawled out on my couch. "How are you feeling?"
I shrugged. "I've been better."
"I know there are healing spells, why not use one?" he asked.
"Using them on one's self requires a great deal of concentration that I doubt I could muster right now," I explained. I sank into the couch, closing my eyes until his hand gently brushed mine.
"I… I know some healing spells," Draco said hesitantly. "If you want me to use one, that is."
His hesitation was simultaneously surprising and endearing to me. It did sting, but in all honesty I think it bothered him more than it did me. I gave him a quick nod.
Draco nodded back, apparently steeling himself. It was odd, because even though it was Hazel's face looking at me, I could almost see Draco. With a swish of his wand and a muttered spell, the pain disappeared."
I unconsciously raised my hand to my cheek. "Thank you."
Draco swallowed and I could see a complexity of emotions swimming in his eyes. I was almost fearful of the questions that would doubtlessly come.
"GRANGER, LOWER YOUR BLOODY WARDS!" came the voice of Blaise Zabini.
Just then Harry apparated into the living room with a pop. "Say the word Hermione, and I'll find a reason to arrest Lucius."
A/N: Hello, lovely readers, I'm back! I really apologize for any typos (of which I'm sure there are many). But here it is, the Funeral. Here's where the plot is starting to thicken some more, so please, let me know what you think! This story is turning into so much more than I expected.
As always, follows and reviews inspire me to write. A quick shoutout to MaMia and luxaeterna22 for consistently reviewing, I enjoy seeing your reactions as the story progresses. I also appreciate all of my other reviewers like Doctor MisFire, gwenelle7, luvsbooks412, SalazarsMistress, and so many more. My jobs are starting to calm down, so I hope to start updating more regularly again, but we'll see what happens.
Have a wonderful summer, everyone!
