This is just a little one shot inspired by the song Say Something. It's been so long since I've written anything, this was a just a little something to get me back in the game. Hope you enjoy it.

Say something, I'm giving up on you, I'll be the one, if you want me to

Anywhere I would've followed you, Say something, I'm giving up on you

I hate funerals with a passion. I've hated them ever since I was a little kid and had to attend my grandmother's. Even now, when I'm twenty five years old, I still hate funerals. Then again, I've never heard of someone who actually enjoys a funeral. You'd have to be a sick person to find happiness out of such a thing. Alas, I digress. Today isn't about me. It's about the person whose death we are mourning. It's for the person that I fell in love with and the only person I will ever love.

I am the last person in a short line of people to step up to the coffin to take one last look at the Savior of the Wizarding World. I chuckle as I think that; he might be the Savior of the whole world but he was also my own personal savior. I slowly look down at the face I love. Harry looks as peaceful as I'd ever seen him, as if he was only sleeping. It took all of my control to not reach out and touch his face or grab for his hand.

I whisper, "Why did you have to be the hero? Why couldn't you let someone else take that spot or why did you force me to stay home when I begged you to let me go?" Out of desperation, as if trying to prove to myself he wasn't dead, I ask, "Say something would you? Just one word, just to let me know this isn't real. Please don't make me live without you."

I hope beyond hope that this is a nightmare and any second I will wake up from it. I stare at Harry's face, hoping his eyelashes will flutter and then his eyes will open. My fingers are gripping the side of the coffin so hard they are completely white. I relax my grip when I feel a hand grasp my shoulder. I look up to see Hermione staring at me. She gives a small shake of her head as if she knows what I had just been thinking.

I nod and take one final look at the man I love before heading to my seat. I hardly hear a word the preacher says as he begins the service. I finally look up with tears streaming down my face as the preacher begins the final prayer. I mutter a quick "Amen" and quietly stand and head to the front of the room. I was the first in line to pay my last respects and say a few words. I make it up the steps and face the crowd. I can't find a dry eye in the place and it makes me feel a little better about my own tears. I had always been taught that a Malfoy never shows emotion and isn't even allowed to think about crying. Well, screw you father.

I try to say something and choke on my own words. I clear my throat and try again, "Thank you all for coming today. I can't tell you how much it means to me and how much I know it would have meant to Harry."

I have to stop and take a deep breath before I continue. I search the front row until my eyes land on Ron and Hermione. Hermione has her head buried in her husband's shoulder and Ron is doing everything he can not to crumble. Our eyes meet and he gives a small nod of encouragement.

I start once again, "I've been asked numerous times today why so few people have shown up and the simple answer is because that's what Harry would have wanted. He never was one for publicity and was happier surrounded by a few friends than a hundred adoring fans. That is just one of the many quirks of Harry James Potter."

As I continued to speak, my thoughts drift from the speech at hand to all the memories I had made over the past few years.

And I am feeling so small, It was over my head

I know nothing at all, And I will stumble and fall

I'm still learning to love, Just starting to crawl

After the War, things went from bad to worse for me. What few friends I had had were either dead, locked in Azkaban, or fled the country. The only reason I hadn't had the fate of rotting in a cell was because Harry had spoken for me at my trial and gotten my sentence reduced to mere house arrest and community service. Both my parents were dead. My father was forced to take a dementor's kiss and my mother had been killed by the Dark Lord after realizing she had lied to him about Harry being dead in the middle of the War.

Surprisingly, I was offered the chance to attend Hogwarts for my eighth year and I readily accepted. To say it was odd being the only Slytherin to do so is an understatement. I was constantly taunted, teased, and harassed until that fateful morning at breakfast. I was walking out the Great Hall when a spell hit me causing me to fall face first. When I regained my feet, blood was running down my face from a painful broken nose. Before another word could be uttered, Harry had crossed the room to stand in front of me. He raised his wand to my face and I flinched, prepared for anything. Well, almost anything, I wasn't expecting him to fix my nose. I definitely wasn't expecting him to turn around and publically announce that I was to be left alone and anyone who messed with me would have to answer to him.

After that, Harry found it necessary to stick by my side like glue. The only time he left me was when I had to use the loo or when I went to sleep. We had all the same classes and he made sure to sit by me during those. On the outside, I found it extremely annoying and would always yell at him for not letting me have a moment of privacy. He would just shrug his shoulders and smile. On the inside, I was grateful for his protection. It was nice to sort of have a friend and to be able to walk around the castle without fear of getting hit by a stray spell.

Eventually, I let down the walls I had built around myself and accepted Harry as a friend. Our relationship didn't stay platonic for long. Once we got past our past, we realized we had a lot in common. Even though we were beyong the days of hexing each other, we still got in horrible fights. I had always been taught to bottle up my emotions and Harry hated it. He wanted to walk down the halls and declare his love for me. I was content to just snog in an unused broom closet every now and then. Love was new for me, I had never felt it for anyone not even my parents. Even though Harry knew I could only take baby steps, he still stuck by me. By the time we graduated, I had moved from secret snogs to holding hands as we walked down the halls.

Say something, I'm giving up on you, I'm sorry that I couldn't get to you

Anywhere I would've followed you, Say something, I'm giving up on you

After school, I studied to be a healer while Harry quickly moved through the ranks of the Auror department until he became the youngest head Auror in history at the age of nineteen. Both our lines of work kept us busy and put strain on our blossoming relationship. Harry was always off trying to solve a case and I was constantly at the hospital trying to save a life from being extinguished.

We finally agreed to break it off with the excuse that it just wasn't working. It was the worst two months of my life. I was a wreck without Harry. I quickly realized just how much of a rock he had become in my life. After seeing a young woman lose the man she loved, I couldn't handle it anymore. I rushed to Harry's flat and pounded on the door as if my life depended on it. He opened it and in the next instant I had my arms flung around his neck and I was kissing him as if my life depended on it. I was ecstatic when his arms tightened and pulled me closer. We made a silent agreement that no matter what, nothing would split us up again.

The following few years were good for us. Harry proposed and after many attempts, I finally accepted. It was a small ceremony with just a few friends and family but it was perfect. Like Harry moved up through the Aurors, I moved up as well and was announced head Healer because of my quick wit and calm head under pressure. Not to mention that I was the only healer who was also adapt at brewing just about any potion you could name.

Harry and I became godfather to a plethora of Weasley children thanks to Ron and Hermione, Bill and Fleur, Ginny and her husband, and George and his wife. The last time I counted, it was thirteen. Harry and I had agreed that our lives were just too hectic for children and neither of us had the first idea of how to be a parent.

Sadly, we weren't meant to have a happy ending. A few months ago, Harry had been given a case that no one else had been able to solve. A serial killer was on the loose and the only lead was a trail of dead bodies left behind. The killer resorted to muggle weapons. Harry called in a muggle crime detective but they weren't able to discover anything. Harry surmised that they killed using muggle weapons and then used magic to clean up the crime area to make sure they weren't caught.

I remember when Harry came rushing home that night, screaming that he finally had a lead in the case. The criminal had somehow left their wand at the crime scene and Harry was able to have it identified. He had only come home to change clothes and then was heading after the man named Sam Avery. I begged Harry not to go. He had been up for two days straight and was exhausted. I begged him to let someone else track down the killer. When that didn't work, I asked him to at least let me come with him. I didn't want him to do this alone. Of course he shook his head, gave me a quick kiss, and ran out the door.

I paced our living room for what felt like forever before I was nearly frightened to death when Ron came through the Floo. He was panicked. Before I could say a word, he told me Harry had been injured and was at St. Mungos. I grabbed my wand before following Ron through the Floo.

It didn't matter, though. Harry was dead by the time I arrived. I cursed. I was supposed to have been on duty and knew that if I had been here, Harry would still be alive. The criminal had stabbed Harry repeatedly and my lover had lost too much blood by the time he reached the hospital was the official cause of death. I stood at his bed, silent and devoid of all emotion. Nothing could penetrate my haze.

And I will swallow my pride, You're the one that I love, And I'm saying goodbye

I finish my speech and slowly walk down the steps. There were a few claps but I paid them no mind as I headed to my seat. I watched as more people stood up to say a few things about Harry. I wanted to curse every single one of them. They all spoke of how they knew Harry and how great he was. I wanted to yell at them, to tell them that they didn't know him like I did. He was my lover and I was the only one who knew how much he blamed himself for the War, how much he always wished for a family, or just how much he had been afraid when he sacrificed himself during the War. Did they know his favorite color was steel grey because it reminded him of my eyes, did they know his favorite food was chocolate because it reminded him of Remus, did they know his favorite animal was a stag, or that his favorite flower was a lily, or that he always wanted a puppy named Padfoot?

I wanted to scream, I wanted to break something, but most of all I just wanted to hold the man I loved one more time. How easy it is now to admit that I loved Harry or that I was lost without him. How I would give anything just to be able to walk around in public and give him a quick kiss, something I still would never do. I would do anything if it meant Harry would come back to me.

I nearly choked with relief when the last person had spoken their peace. I watched as the coffin was closed and it was carried outside to its final resting place. I barely registered it being placed in the ground and could only watch as with a quick wave of a wand, it was buried under six feet of dirt never to see the light of day again. The only word on my mind was goodbye.

Say something, I'm giving up on you, And I'm sorry that I couldn't get to you

And anywhere I would've followed you, Say something, I'm giving up on you

Say something, I'm giving up on you, Say something...

Everyone had left, the funeral was over and here I stood, frozen to the core. I couldn't move, could hardly breathe. If I did, it would be more proof that Harry was dead and never coming back. Every painful breath just proved that this wasn't a dream I was going to wake from. I bowed my head and more tears rolled down my cheeks.

Again I asked, "Why, why did you have to be so fucking brave? Why did you have to do it all on your own? I could have helped, I could have done something and then you wouldn't be dead! You weren't even supposed to be out that night. That's why I took the night off. We were supposed to spend our anniversary at home, together."

All the pain I had been feeling the past few days overwhelms me and I crumble to the ground, unable to support my weight any longer. I lean against the newly erected tombstone and reach a hand inside my pocket. I close my fingers around the tiny bottle and slowly pull it out. I smile as it reflects the sun's rays.

I whisper, "Say something."

Hearing no reply, I pull the lid off the bottle and bring it to my lips. I gently tilt it upwards and grimace as the foul tasting liquid runs over my tongue and down my throat. Almost instantly, I can feel the effects of the potion. I feel my heart beat slowing with every second.

I close my eyes and whisper one last time, "Say something."

With my dying breath, as if spoken only in my head I hear, "Draco."

So, I hope you guys liked it. Not my greatest work ever but I nice little story to get me back in writing mode. For all of you guys reading Shifter Genes, I promise I will update soon. Just give me a little more time, my life has been hectic.