Draco knotted his tie and grabbed his robes. He leaned over his bed and kissed Astoria's forehead. "Are you sure you're feeling okay?" Usually, she rose before him and was awaiting him at the breakfast table with coffee and eggs.

"'M fin."

"Are you sure you don't want me to call the healer, just to make sure? She'd be here in an instant, and it won't take much time."

"'M tir'd. Jus' need sl'p."

"Okay. Well, if you're sure. I'll be home for lunch to see if you're feeling better by then. If not, we'll call the healer, okay? I love you, darling. Get some rest."

"Dr'co." She shuffled her hand under the covers as if she might be trying to reach for his face, but it quickly stilled.

Hearing nothing more, he kissed her again and left for work.

2 hours later Mipsy appeared at Draco's office. "Master, come quickly! I can't awaken Mistress!"

Draco rushed from his office to the private flue, directing his secretary to flue Healer Addams immediately and send her to Malfoy Manor.

Draco ran to the bedroom and grabbed Astoria's cold hand. "Astoria! Astoria! Ennervate!"

Healer Addams was immediately there and checked for a pulse, but she was already gone. "I'm sorry Mr. Malfoy."

"I should have called this morning!" he raged. He turned away and quickly schooled his features. It wouldn't do for the Healer to see him as anything but composed. He could lose his mind later, in private.

"What were her symptoms this morning?" Healer Addams asked.

"She was tired. She barely moved. She usually is out of bed first, but today she was still in bed when I left for work 2 hours prior," he answered coolly.

"How were her words?" she asked as she ran some diagnostic spells. "Was she slurring? How was her motor control?"

Draco relayed that Astoria was indeed slurring her words and that she was quite lethargic and wasn't moving. Healer Addams said that she thought Astoria may have died from a stroke and asked if he wanted further spellwork to confirm. No, he did not.

The private funeral was 2 days later and was attended by those with whom Astoria conducted her charity work, as well as the family. Draco sat sullenly in front of the coffin while the guests entered the manor for tea and refreshments. "Why don't you attend the guests," Hermione suggested to Rose and Scorpius, "and I'll stay with Draco."

After some time, he called Mipsy. "Bring me as many shovels as you can find." She returned with ten. He charmed nine to start digging, and he took the last and dug the grave himself. An hour later, blisters covering his hands, they all stopped digging and he lowered Astoria's coffin into the ground.

"I never deserved you. I was broken and you healed me. I told you that you were better off without me, and yet you refused to leave. I was never able to show you just how much you gave me, just how much you held me up, just how much I needed you, or just how much I loved you. And in the end, I let you die. It's my fault you're here instead of inside our home," he cried, tears streaming down his cheek. "You gave me everything, and I let you die!"

Hermione silently walked up to Draco, and placed her hand on his back. "I'll finish," she said softly. She levitated the loose dirt and buried the coffin. Draco stood there, tears still falling. "Let's get you to your study."

Hermione saw him to his private lounge, where he promptly collapsed in a chair. "Get some rest, Draco. I'll be back with dinner in a few hours." She left knowing that he'd want space to mourn in private.

She returned that evening, after having checked in with Rose and Scorpius to make sure they were okay. Scorpius was mourning deeply, but seeing him in Rose's arms, she knew he would be cared for. She picked up curry and headed back to the Manor. Scorpius had adjusted the wards earlier so that she would be able to enter without an escort.

She walked into Draco's study to find him sitting on a leather sofa in front of a roaring fire with a bottle of firewhiskey at his feet and a glass in his hand. Every other piece of furniture in the room was destroyed. Looking at the fire, she noticed that glass shards glittered around the hearth and she saw the remains of three bottles of firewhiskey.

"Draco, I've brought curry. Um, can I get you some tea?"

Draco downed the glass he was drinking. He poured another glass of firewhiskey, raised it in a mock toast, and downed it too.

"Draco, I think you've had enough firewhiskey. How about curry and tea?"

He picked up the bottle and threw it into the fireplace, where the alcohol was consumed in a large flame. He looked at his now empty glass and threw that too.

Hermione sat beside Draco on the sofa, putting her arm around him, the curry forgotten. "Shhhh," she whispered, holding him like a mother would a child. "Rest. It will be better in the morning."

"Granger. Don't leave, Granger."

He hadn't called her Granger in almost forty years. "Shhhh. I'll stay. Just sleep." She started singing "The Itsy Bitsy Spider" while holding and rocking him gently, just like she had with Rose and Hugo thirty-four years earlier. He leaned into her thinking that muggle lullabies sure were strange and was shortly asleep.