Disclaimer- I am not JK Rowling. Maybe in a past life, but I guess I didnt do too well, now did i?
The morning came, gray and cloudy. Rain would be making an appearance this day, but to all at the Burrow, it seemed appropriate.
The funeral was today. It would take the whole day, or at least, the better part of it, burying a total of 34 people in one day. The entire Granger line. Save one.
Hermione bustled around, ducking flying pancakes-a trick of the twins-maneuvering between people, and the general clutter of things.
Despite the Weasley twin's antics this morning, Hermione knew that they were sorry for her, and respected her enough not to be completely rude. In fact, the night before, Fred had found her behind the broom shed, crying, and he held her close for an hour, offering his condolences.
Breakfast was eaten in relative silence, for Hermione's sake. No one should have to deal with this kind of tragedy, especially not someone as good hearted as Hermione.
They drove to Muggle London, the rain beating down finally. They were given cars by the Ministry again, but not for Harry's sake. The Ministry, in fact, seemed to have a personal vendetta against Harry, seeing as all this "chosen one" stuff hadn't gone away. It had, if anything, increased after Dumbledore's death.
No, they got the cars after Mr. Weasley threatened to quit. The entire Weasley family had been so proud of him for finally standing up to the Ministry that they had disregarded the fact that he had almost lost his job.
The service was held in the funeral home, rather then a church for a few reasons. The main one was that they couldn't find one that would fit all the caskets and, also, neither Hermione nor her parents had been particularly religious.
There were a lot of people in attendance. Most of the Grangers patients, friends and about half of the wizarding community. While Hermione never thought herself popular, her entire year-save the Slytherin's, were there, offering condolences, places to stay, as well as more hugs then she could stand.
Neville actually showed up with a bunch of flowers-some she didn't even recognize.
"I'm so sorry Hermione. My Gran says that if you need anything, you can come talk to us." He smiled slightly, while giving her the flowers. This was, most likely, the first time he'd ever given a girl flowers.
The service was long-2 hours at least, and many people spoke for the Granger family, including Mrs. Weasley and Mrs. Dursley. While what Mrs. Dursley said was extremely touching (especially considering she had only met the couple twice) it still didn't give any clue as to why she cared so much.
The burial was, surprisingly, rather quick, considering. They were there for three hours, paying their final respects for both the Grangers, and Hermione.
Eventually, the crowd thinned, people sick of the drizzle, and wanting to get to the reception, which was being held at the Granger-now Hermione's house.
She decided that it would be not only the best, but easiest place, since she had a somewhat concealed fireplace for the wizarding community, and all the Muggles knew where it was, or at least, how to find it.
Hermione sat at the grave of her parent, silently crying. She knew that most people were either at her house, or on their way there, but she didn't care. She knew that someone-most likely Mrs. Weasley, or Mrs. Dursley, would play hostess, and make sure that everyone was looked after.
"Hermione" came a voice behind her. Hermione turned. Harry, Ron and Ginny were there, huddled under a black umbrella.
"Are you coming, or do you need more time?" Ginny asked, ever the observant one.
"If I could have some more time alone…" Hermione trailed off, knowing that one of them would refuse, saying that it was dangerous.
"Sure, 'Mione, we'll give you more time, but if you aren't back in half hour, we're coming back." Ginny said, holding both boys by the arm, leading them away.
That was defiantly not what she expected.
But she wasn't about to complain. She needed this time alone, to mourn, to grieve and, hopefully, to begin to heal.
She sat at her parent's graves, thinking of her life ahead of her, and of the happier times behind. She had always known that her parents wouldn't live forever, and that she would have to deal with their loss, but she hadn't thought it would be this soon. She didn't think that her entire family would be wiped out.
She would heal. Eventually. She just needed a good cry to get things going.
She continued to sit on the graves, crying. The freshly dug dirt would stain her clothing, she knew, but didn't care. She cried for her future, her past and for her family.
She didn't know how long she had been there, but had a feeling that her half hour was up when she heard the 'pop' of someone apparating a few feet behind her.
She looked up, expecting to see Harry, or maybe Ron. She defiantly wasn't expecting Draco Malfoy.
By the look of things, he seemed equally surprised to see her.
She was at a complete loss of what to say, if anything. She decided since he was the one who apparated in on her, and he was the one that interrupted her little cry fest that he should be the one to say something.
"You're alive" was all that came out of his mouth.
It seemed an odd thing to say, especially since Draco wasn't known as being Captain obvious.
"Yes, yes I am. Good of you to notice." Hermione said, defiantly confused on a few matters.
"I thought that, since the…" Draco trailed off, not sure of what to say. The truth, or something else? Granger was smart, he decided, and deserved the truth. He continued.
"I thought that, since the death eaters wiped out the rest of your family, that you'd be dead too"
Hermione looked at him, noting the way he worded things.
"The Death eaters? Draco, last time I checked, you were one." Hermione said, still completely lost in this conversation.
"Well, not exactly, not that its any of your business" he snapped. "I actually wasn't aware of what happened until after the fact. I had nothing to do with the massacre."
Hermione, again, noted the use of his words. She was beginning to understand, but not all things were clear.
"Then what, pray tell, are you doing here now?" she asked, widening her arms to encompass the graves.
Draco was silent for a few moments, regarding her. She was on her knees, in front of two graves, wearing a long black dress-a long cloak over top, her honey brown eyes were red rimmed, but shining, her bushy chestnut hair was tied back, but still bushy because of the rain. She was, without a doubt, beautiful, in the most natural form.
"I came to pay my respects." He said.
With that, he placed a bunch of flowers on her mothers grave, turned around, and apparated away.
end transmission