Title: It's Not A Thing - Chapter 01
Author: Carol Rodrick
Beta Reader: kazfeist
Category: Harry Potter
Pairings: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, past references to Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley and Draco Malfoy/Astoria Greengrass
Genre: Angst, Romance, Drama, Slice Of Life, Hurt/Comfort
Summary: Things happen when we didn't want them to, things we have no control of. What do you do when you lose a piece of yourself? You go to a psychiatry.
Rating: M/R
WARNINGS: Characters Death, DH complaint, Epilogue complaint.
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from the Harry Potter universe. They are property of JK Rowling and Warner Bros. Studios. I make no money from the writing of this story.

Author's Note: Hello everyone! I'm so excited! This is my new fic. I know the summary sucks, but please give it a try. And things will make more sense on chapter 2. I hope you guys like this! Also, the next chapter of SDHW will be posted soon. Thanks Karen!

It's Not A Thing – Chapter 01

Draco Malfoy stood beside his mother and son, receiving condolences from another forgettable person. He had become an automaton already. "I'm so sorry" "Thank you for coming" "She was so beautiful" "Yes, she was, thank you for coming" Thank you for coming, thank you for, thank you, thank... And it was finally over. He felt his mouth dry, his eyes burn; he felt like he was a hundred years old.

He was barely forty, dammit.

Draco Malfoy was thirty-nine years old, father of Scorpius Malfoy, son of Narcissa. and Lucius Malfoy, and now a widower.

His late wife, Astoria, had just died of miscarriage complications. Too much blood loss. The baby was to be a girl. Too young to survive.

Or so they had said.

But Malfoys don't break apart. They don't cry in public either. Malfoys are made of stone.

Those thoughts were the only thing that kept Draco from quitting that place. Inside, he wanted to scream in rage, cry with despair, find a hole and never get out, tell all those people that they never really knew her, never saw that smile she only showed him...

And he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around. Harry Potter, looking tired, deep in sorrow, with Ginny by his side, as gloomy as he.

...

Hermione just stood there, crying silently, her hand holding Ron's cold hands. Dead hands. Of her husband's hands.

It was the most stupid thing. Infuriating. Unfair.

He had been so proud when he had his driver's license. She could see his smile that day in her head, that bright open smile which had reached his eyes.

A car accident. He had died immediately. Head trauma, the doctors from the Muggle hospital said. It was the other driver's fault, they had said. Slept while driving.

But none of that mattered. Ron was dead. Her best friend, the love of her life, father of their children...

Not breathing. Unmoving. Cold. Dead...

Hermione just stood there, eyes fixed on her love's face, hand in hand. She had barely noticed as people came by to talk to her, her tears driving them away. She thought she heard Harry's voice some time ago, while someone had hugged her by the side. She knew Rose and Hugo were curled up near Molly somewhere, which was fine by her.

She wanted just to stay with him.

There was a hand on her shoulder then. She heard Harry's voice again. "... lost his wife. He is right across the hall from us."

She dizzily looked at Harry. He was with deep bags under his eyes and he must have been crying too, for they were puffy and red.

Her voice sounded shaken. "... What?"

Harry sighed deeply. "Draco Malfoy. He lost his wife, Hermione. He is right there." And he nodded towards the other room across across the hall She could see the other room full of people. In the entrance, Draco stood, tall and stiff, receiving condolences like a robot.

Hermione blinked. She heard Harry's voice again, but couldn't understand the words. Her brown eyes are focussed on Draco for a minute. She looked at Harry finally, who seems confused. She spoke only to him.

"Go there, Harry. He needs it..."

They stare at each other. Thirty years of friendship between them Harry nods. "All Right."

She gives him the smallest barely-there smile she can muster, and returns her eyes to Ron. Tears continue falling...

...

Draco doesn't know what to say. Potter seems as lost as he. He opens his mouth, looking at Draco, but closes it again. Water comes to his eyes, he takes a deep sound breath, and gives his hand to Draco. His gaze firm, red-eyed.

The simple gesture, the true feelings in it almost disarm Draco. He gulps. He knows everyone in the room is eying them, but there isn't reason for such tension. He gives his hand to Potter, and they shake hands only once, and hold on.

Draco whispers, his voice cracking in the beginning. "Why?"

Potter seems to feel a shiver, and lets go his hand gently. "... I don't know. Maybe... " And it is his voice that cracks now. He passes his hand in his eyes, under those round glasses. He takes a deep breath. "Because I wanted to. Because of her." And his green eyes dart to the left, to the other room that was being used that day. Draco follows his gaze.

Hermione Weasley. In the other room. Beside a coffin of dark wood. She was crying without blinking, and nothing seemed to exist besides her and her late husband, Ron Weasley. She just stood there, holding his cold, hard hand.

Draco Malfoy felt a pang in his chest. He looks at Potter again, and nods. And feels that he can't pretend anymore. But just a little longer.

He gulps. He takes uncertain steps towards the little brunette. He stops just beside her. His voice is low, and as gentle as he can manage without sounding strangled.

"... Hermione."

She blinks. She looks at him, new tears falling.

"... Draco."

They lock their eyes for a second. His own tears start to fall.

"... I'm sorry for the emptiness..." He says really low, just for her. She nods after some time, slowly.

"Me too..."

They both take a nod at each other. Her eyes go back to her love. He walks back to his.

He can hear the surprised gasp of his mother because of his tears, but he doesn't care. He walks straight to her coffin. Scorpius is there, holding on as best as he can. Draco fells terrible.

It is time things change.

He slides his arm around his son. It startles the teen. The young man looks up.

"Father?"

Draco squeezes his son shoulder before pulling him closer. He is shaking. Scorpius notices it.

"Scorpius."

"Yes, father?"

"Remember what I told you?"

"...Yes. I'm not crying..."

"I know. I'm sorry, son..."

"... Its okay, dad..."

He finally feels Scorpius returning the hug. His smaller body begins to tremble together with him. He turns to his mother, and whispers.

"I want everybody that is not close out. NOW." His voice is so cold and so deep in sorrow that Narcissa complies.

Draco moves closer to his dead wife and daughter, holding close his living son. They both cry. They both don't care.

That day, Draco lost a bit of himself. Hermione did too.