At the cemetry

It was bitterly cold. Snow covered the surrounding treetops, pressing the branches down heavily.
The wind whipped the snowflakes around, making her cheek and ears glow with cold.
Her hands were in her jacket pocket, red and numb.
Her eyes burned, which was less weather-related, however.
The grave was still untouched, the centimeter-high, white splendor glittering in the weak sunlight.
She had brought candles. One for each fallen.

Hermione didn't notice how the first hot tears ran down her burning cheeks and slowly froze to ice. Her face was like a mask, immobile. Painful.
Here they all lay. Your friends, your enemies.
People she had known, who she wanted to get to know.
Alone under the cold blanket of snow. Forgotten.
It was they who influenced the Battle of Hogwarts so much. Died so she could survive.
You and many more.

Was the sacrifice justified?
Did she even want to live when so many other people gave their lives for it?
She read the names engraved on the Stone of Reverence.
A suppressed sob escaped her throat. No need, because no one here heard them
She was here alone.
Nobody would look for them here, nobody would find them.
Or so she thought.



She turned her head abruptly when she heard the crunch of the snow.
Someone was standing there. Big, powerful, wrapped in black.
The figure looked almost threatening if it hadn't had a strange aura.
And she knew for sure that there was no enemy there. Nobody who wanted her bad.
She turned around again, continued to fix the tombstone in this deserted cemetery.
She heard the steps that brought him closer to her.
It was a confident walk, majestic and threatening at the same time.
She knew him, knew who he was.And she didn't run away, didn't take any other path, stopped.
Here in front of him. Defenseless. Her wall around her had collapsed and she had not yet had enough strength to raise it up again.


Now he was standing still next to her. For a long time.
Looked at the grave, looked at the snow. The place. You.
Saw the tiny ice crystals on her cheeks that had once been her tears.
"Granger." He broke the silence. His voice, brittle and low.
She turned her head but couldn't see his face, hidden under the black hood of his cloak.
"Malfoy." Resigned. No feeling in her voice. Broken.

“I'm sorry.” It was difficult for him to get these words out of his lips, but they were sincere and full of remorse.
A slight smile spread across Hermione's face.
She knew what these words stood for, knew that he was serious, knew that it was taking a lot of energy and knew that she would forgive him.
She looked at him. "You were a child."
“I was a traitor.” Dark and including his voice. Full of sadness.
"You were forced."
"I was full of prejudice."
"You were raised that way."
"I'm a Malfoy."
"You were born this way."

"You find an excuse for each of my offenses. Why?"
She looked into his darkened face.
"As I said, you were a child."
"And now I'm an adult. How can you forgive me?"
Hermione turned to him now, ignoring the cold as she brushed the hood off the Slytherin's head.
His blond hair hung in a tangle on his face, longer than usual. His silver-gray eyes shone.
He stood before her, a great angel, beautiful and yet broken.
"Time has not passed me by without a trace."
She took one of his hair strands between her fingers, which had fallen cheekily into his eyes a moment before, and put it behind his ear.
He winced at the touch of her cold skin on his."How can you be in vain after all I've done?"
And suddenly his whole facade collapsed.
She saw the real Malfoy. Vulnerable and alone. In fear and full of longing for forgiveness.
How could she keep him from answering? How could she ever reject him?
How could she ever trust to find new hope?
But she was a Gryffindor and she risked a lot in forgiving him.
"You are no longer my enemy. You are all that I have left."
“You have Potter and Weasley.” He shook his head and turned to the headstone.
The wind whipped his blond hair in his face and it was hopeless to try to catch and tame it again.
"I've seen too much during this time. Too many things that I want to forget, too many things that have destroyed the life I knew.
The war was only part of it. I never felt really free. "
"You broke their friendship," he stated, without hiding that he wasn't exactly unhappy with it.
Hermione shot him a sideways glance.
"No. Friendship is the only thing I can offer you. I want to live my life as I see fit."
“And what do you think is right?” He didn't dare look in her direction.
He continued to stare at the grave without actually seeing it. He waited for her answer.
"To be forgiven. I've seen who you are. I've seen what you are capable of.
And I've seen that you are not angry, that you are not like your father. "
"But I am much more than you think."
"I know."
He turned to her, met her eyes, full of warmth and confidence.
"But I want to find out."
“How?” He was confused. Clearly. He frowned.
"You tell me," Hermione asked, taking a step towards him.
"Granger." He was serious again now. His gaze is distant. But it didn't deter her after all she'd seen."Yes."
"I'm a Malfoy."
She smiled. "I know."
"I'm a Slytherin."
"Because of that."
"I am a traitor."
"That was you."
"I am proud."
"You are that."

"And still you want me?"
She laughed. Throwing her bushy hair back, met his eyes.
“Who says that?” Cheeky and happy. Suddenly.
“I know.” A confident grin crept onto the corners of his mouth.
"Then we've cleared everything up, haven't we?"
“I think so.” He nodded.
"Then why do I still have to freeze?"
She was offended. Clearly.

Malfoy laughed from his heart and quickly pulled her into his arms and kissed her.
And a few minutes later he introduced her as the new mistress of Malfoy Manor.