13 - The Funeral

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Rosie

My heart broke for him. Yes - I had hated Narcissa Malfoy, but I loved Draco. And no matter what I felt, he was still a boy who had lost his mother.

Professor McGonagall had allowed both Draco and I to return to Malfoy Manor in preparation for the funeral.

Draco didn't say much. In the days up to the funeral, he would sob into my arms every night as we lay in his bed. The pain he was experiencing startled me. He clung to me fiercely, almost as if afraid he would lose me too.

There was not much family left. The funeral was sparse. Everyone was either dead or locked up in Azkaban. Draco and I sat on the pew at the front of the little chapel, our fingers tightly locked together. My eyes scanned over the shiny black coffin where Narcissa lay concealed. I shivered involuntarily. The minister droned on, the only true words he spoke being that she had left behind a loving son.

Draco and I led the way behind the coffin as we followed it out to the chapel grounds. The weather didn't seem to suit the occasion; the sun was sparkling brightly down on us and there was a light spring breeze in air. The handful of mourners who had attended, tailed slowly behind us. I squeezed Draco's hand who gave me the saddest, mournful look ever.

As Narcissa was lowered into the ground, I felt Draco's hand shaking in mine. I wrapped my other hand around it, grasping it tightly. I knew he would be trying with everything he had not to cry out here. He held a single black rose in his other hand which he dropped on top of the coffin. He looked silently down at it for a few moments and I wondered what he was saying to her.

I hoped he forgave her. For himself.

***

"I'm selling the Manor."

Rosie looked up at him, a startled expression on her face. They were on the train, going back to Hogwarts.

"But- but isn't it your family home? Can you even do that?"

Draco sighed heavily, his eyes glancing out of the window at the fields rushing past.

"I've no family left. Father's in Azkaban till his dying day and mother's gone." He closed his eyes briefly as pain washed over him. "It's just you and me now, Rosie, and I don't want to take you back to that place to live. Not ever."

It was no question - the thought of asking Rosie to bring up a family with him in the place that held so many bad memories for her was unthinkable.

He took Rosie's left hand in his and traced her engagement ring with his thumb.

"I did not have a happy childhood in that place, and I don't want-" he hesitated, not wanting to upset her with his next words. "I don't want us to bring up our children there."

He felt Rosie stiffen. They hadn't talked about children. It was a difficult subject to bring up. There will always be Pearl.

"Rosie," he said softly when she didn't say anything, "look at me, Rosie,"

She turned her face up towards him and he saw that familiar sadness behind her piercing blue eyes. His heart twisted. He reached up and cupped a hand over her cheek, gently reaching down his lips to brush over hers.

"Pearl will never be forgotten. We'll never let that happen." He whispered.

Rosie let out a content sigh as he continued to brush his lips back over hers.

"I always imagined," she said quietly when he pulled back slightly, "that our children will love playing by the sea."

He couldn't help the smile tugging at his lips. He felt a sudden rush of love for this woman next to him and he wrapped her in his arms pulling her tightly to him.

"Then I promise you that that's where our home will be, Rosie."

He fiercely kissed the top of her head, vowing to himself that he would spend the rest of his life making Rosie happy.

***

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