Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
A/N: This is very short, but I don't believe it needed much more. Please let me know if you enjoyed it because it will inspire me to write more. Thanks for reading :)
Draco:
Draco lay in his and Hermione's bed staring at the ceiling. Hermione had passed away in her sleep at the age of 87 a month ago. Since then Draco had rewritten his will and left most of his money to his children and grandchildren, including Rose and Hugo. The rest he had left to St Mungos and all the muggle hospitals in the area. He knew his time was coming soon.
'He looked up at Hermione's face as he bent down on one knee in the middle of their library. It was the day her divorce had been finalised.
"Hermione Granger, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?"
"Yes!" She squealed."'
He smiled to himself as he remembered that day.
'He looked back as he stood at the front of the church. She looked beautiful in her long white dress, with Rose, Hugo and Scorpio held up the train on it, and that smile that was on her face, made her look a million times more beautiful, if that was even possible.'
He continued to smile as he relived more memories in his mind. He looked to the end of his bed and saw Hermione standing there. Only this wasn't 87 year old Hermione, it was the 17 year old Hermione that he first fell in love with in the library. She offered him her hand. He stood up and looked back, he realised that his 87 year old body was still lying on the bed with his eyes closed, and that he was now a 17 year old version of himself. He took Hermione's hand and smiled.
"I love you Draco."
"I love you to princess. Always."
They kissed for a moment, and then they walked together hand in hand towards the light.