A/N – This took a while. Sorry about that. It's kind of, um, intense? I don't know. It's different from most things I've written, so it's more of a challenge to write. And it just kept getting bigger, and I kept putting off certain sections, and it morphed into something unexpected… but yeah, apologies, and I hope you enjoy the final instalment! I hope even more that it's reasonable and/or fits with the rest of the story, because it's been such a long time between updates that almost anything could happen here.

DON'T HESTITATE TO CRITICISE CONSTRUCTIVELY, or, you know, just make a general comment.

The excerpt is from 'Celtic Myths and Legends' by T.W Rolleston, out of the section 'The Recovery of the Tain'. It's also the title inspiration, as you can see.

"behold, a hero's grave"
- PART III -
Till the death he craves be given; and, upon his burial stone
Champion-praises duly graven, make his name and glory known;
For, in speech-containing token, age to ages never gave
Salutation better spoken, than, "Behold a hero's grave."

||1||

Irritatingly, Hermione and Draco's recent companionship remained the only news the Prophet felt at all inclined to report on in the otherwise uneventful Post-War, and with each day the speculations grew more and more unlikely while the sources looked less and less genuine. Then, almost a month after the daring venture, Hermione was perusing the paper half-heartedly when she glimpsed a small article on page four titled 'Redemption Possible for Young Death Eater'. She released a squeak of interest that caused the spectral form of Regulus, currently attempting to pick up a tea spoon, to gaze up at her.

"Is that the sound peasants make when they're presented with difficult words?" he asked mockingly, but she didn't rise to the bait. Regulus went back to his attempts with a sigh.

Intrigued, Hermione began to read the column, and, for the first time, was startled to find a journalist willing to give Draco a chance. The writer mentioned familial loyalty, age, fear, and even Draco's budding experiences in muggle relations and offered as a conclusion that if Hermione was willing to be seen with him and treat him as a human being then the rest of the population could damn well learn to forgive him, too.

She'd just finished, finding herself pleasantly surprised, when she saw the floo in the lounge flare, depositing Draco neatly onto her hearth rug.

"Morning," he greeted uneasily as he entered the kitchen.

Regulus saluted without looking up, and replied jauntily: "Morning, Blondie."

Draco, unable to see or hear him, didn't notice. Hermione merely hummed in reply and said: "Tea's on the stove."

Draco poured a cup and joined her at the table, sitting opposite and hugging it with his hands to glean the warmth. "Do you really not mind what the papers are saying?" he asked after a few moments of weighted silence.

"It's really not any of my business what others say about me," she replied, but then, unable to hold the expression back any longer, she beamed: "Of course, the tide has turned, it seems."

She pushed the paper towards him.

Draco read intently, looking stunned when he reached the end of the column.

"Things are looking up," Hermione assured him with a fond smile, coming around to lean on the back of his chair. Draco looked between her and the newspaper several times – clearly astounded – before launching himself at her, wrapping his arms about her waist and lifting her up into the air, hugging her tightly. She squealed in surprise.

"Thank you," he said sincerely as he put her down (she blushed and gave him a half-shrug). He wet his lips with his tongue nervously and added: "I guess it's time for me to hand over my part of the bargain."

Regulus spun sharply to stare intensely at the blonde, his gaze only once flicking to Hermione's wide eyes.

"Now? Are you sure?" she asked in astonishment.

"What kind of wizard would I be to back out of a promise when you've done the impossible?"

"Improbable, more like," Hermione corrected, but she smiled gladly at him and said as she gently grasped his forearm: "Thank you, Draco – really, I mean it."

He smiled back at her. "It's funny how life turns out, isn't it? I never thought I'd be coming over to Hermione Granger's house on a Sunday morning, voluntarily no less, with no nefarious thoughts whatsoever."

"This is turning into a schmooze-fest," Regulus bit out, though he was clearly still elated by Draco's concession. "Let's get the blood and get going, team."

"Oh, shush," Hermione scolded.

Draco raised an eyebrow at the exchange. "You know, hearing only half of these dialogues is really very disconcerting."

"And you can shush, too," she directed, prodding him in the chest.

The materials required for the extraction of blood were fairly few and simple when it came to magical methods. Hermione had sterilised a handful of vials, thoroughly ensuring that they wouldn't compromise the blood they would soon contain; she cleaned her wand as well, reviewed the required spell and swabbed the blond's arm more to appease her muggle background than necessity.

"Ready?" she asked Draco, raising her wand. He grimaced slightly.

"As I ever am for medical procedures," he acknowledged.

"Wuss. I had Dragon Pox once, and Mother bled me twice a day, but I never complained," Regulus scoffed.

"Don't be a baby," Hermione scolded Draco through a smile aimed at Regulus. The blond narrowed his eyes, aware that the angel had communicated something to her that he couldn't hear. "Muggle ways are much worse."

She pressed the tip of her wand to the cleaned area of Draco's forearm and murmured the incantation. Twisting it clockwise, she caught Draco's wince of pain at the movement before her attention was transferred to the vials, the first of which had slowly filled already and the second which was starting to do the same.

"So, the rite that will go with my blood," Draco hedged, "and I gather there will be one – what does it entail?"

"Well, your part is solely giving us the blood sample," Hermione explained. "Everything else will be up to me and Regulus."

"You intend to go alone?" Draco asked as his brow creased into a frown.

"Well, technically I'll have Regulus with me."

"That's not acceptable," Draco stated firmly. "I'm coming with you. I'd feel better and so would you, I'd wager."

"How noble," Regulus murmured slyly, linking his fingers beneath his chin. "And terribly un-Slytherin. It seems the snake is shedding his skin."

Hermione ignored this strange comment and pulled her wand back, swabbing the space once again.

"You know that's not necessary, right?" the spectre added. "The wand method doesn't really pierce the skin."

"I know," she snapped. "It just makes me feel better, is all."

"Now, now, there's no need for rudeness," Regulus countered. Hermione poked out her tongue. Deftly she changed the conversation.

"Where's the book, Regulus?"

"Library. On the floor." He wrinkled his nose. It had been too heavy for him to lift, though he'd tried several times.

"I'll be back in a second," she told them and ducked out of the room, abandoning Draco to the invisible man.

Regulus looked at his blond cousin. Knowing the other boy couldn't hear, but somehow hoping his message would sink in nonetheless, he said quietly: "Draco Malfoy, you blond git, you like our Miss Granger. So I'll just say this: if you hurt Hermione I will make your afterlife supremely unpleasant."

The creak of the bottom stair signalled Hermione's return and both heads, dark and light, turned expectantly to the doorway.

"Got it," she grinned, holding up the book. "Page four fifty-one, isn't it, Regulus?"

"Correct."

"Ah, here we go," she said in satisfaction as she flipped over to the right page. There was a lengthy explanation which noted the spell and effects of their intended reversal.

"That's disgusting," Draco got in first, immediately before Hermione cried out in revulsion as they took in the pictures that accompanied the text. Hermione quickly moved on to read the paragraphs in appalled silence.

"The spell is 'retromors'," Hermione read aloud. "It transforms the bodies back to how they were the moment they died, returning them to resting dead. But it's going to be a mass grave. Scores of bodies will be uncovered, I'm sure of it – because Harry said that the Inferi were countless when he first went there with Dumbledore." She missed the flinch at their former Headmaster's name. He may not have succeeded in his horrid task, but Draco still felt guilty over the old man's death, even though he'd found the man truly insupportable.

"There should be a vial somewhere in the cave with your grandfather's blood in it," Hermione postulated, "which will need to be destroyed and replaced with your own for when we perform the spell."

"Well, that seems easy enough," Draco said hopefully.

"Which probably means it won't be anything of the sort," Regulus noted tartly. Hermione chose not to repeat the remark to Draco. It wouldn't do to have doubts like that hovering over them both.

||2||

They spent the rest of the day planning the event, and Hermione encouraged Draco to review spells and teach her anything useful from his repertoire that she may not have encountered before –excluding, of course, anything too dark. Her morals were still pointed due North, after all.

It was a quarter to nine the next morning when the epiphany that Regulus would no longer be around hit her. Draco had returned home in the early hours of the morning and Hermione was content to lie in her bed for a while, staring at her old Defence textbook from sixth year. The work they'd squeezed into the day before had made her tired, but Regulus was still buoyed by Draco's fulfilment of the bargain and as such was wandering around the place humming to himself, answering any questions she posed as best he could or directing her to the books that would hold the required knowledge, until eventually, as he was wont to do, he disappeared. Hermione was stunned by the sheer normalcy of the place in his absence; the room looked exactly as it had the very first day she'd seen him, and for some reason it made her heart break.

She grown used to the snarky angel – almost expected his presence in her home these days – and now she was going to lose him forever. A heaviness fell over her whole being as she realised the full implication of what they were to do in the coming days.

Her reaction began quite tamely, but then her breathing quickened as she thought of complications, of results, of Regulus and Draco and Harry – everything was tumbling and jumbling together. Lies, secrets, discoveries – she was involved in something far greater than most human minds could ever deal with; something even greater than most magical folk could manage. Her breathing now on the cusp of hyperventilation, she could think of only one other person in her distress with whom she might be able to discuss her quandary – in half a breath, she had already Apparated away, her desperation overwhelming the three Ds and taking her where she needed to be with seamless ease.

O

If there was anyone in the world who would believe unquestioningly in Angels it would be Luna Lovegood, she thought as the peculiar residence of the Lovegood family swirled into her view. Hermione stumbled blindly up the path, her sight blurred by tears, and thankfully her frantic knocks were answered by the ethereal Ravenclaw who directed her into a squishy green chair, handed her some tea (not gurdy root, she was grateful to note) and then passed across a significant wad of tissues.

"Now," Luna said after Hermione had recovered a little dignity, "What on earth has you in such a state?"

Taking a fortifying breath, Hermione looked her friend in the eye. "Luna, have you heard of Angels?"

"Oh, yes," Luna responded. "Sadly, I can't see them, but I've felt their Presence a few times. Most people I've talked to don't believe in them. They think they're just stories."

"I don't think that," Hermione murmured.

Luna looked at her sympathetically.

"You can see them, can't you?" she said. Hermione nodded. "Well, then – in your own time. Talking will make you feel better."

Luna was, unsurprisingly, right on that count.

Hermione talked almost without pausing for breath, explaining the appearance of Regulus, his dubious decisions in the past and his eventual demise, and her growing relationship with Draco. She talked of Harry and how she'd lied to him, tentatively conveyed the idea for her book on Angels, and by the end felt so much lighter than she couldn't help the sigh that followed.

"You should talk to Harry," Luna told her afterwards. "Fill him in on all the details. You're struggling to keep it from him and you need him on your side anyway. He's your brother in everything but blood, Hermione."

The brunette bit her lip softly and Luna reached out to hold her hand, squeezing gently.

"Everything will fall into place," she said confidently. "It always does."

||3||

Teddy was sitting in his high chair, though 'restrained' was probably more accurate. Harry had discovered the hard way just how clever the little wizard was when Teddy succeeded in working out, after a mere two minutes, how to unclasp the magical lock, shin down the exterior of the chair, climb over the cushioning charm at its base and almost cause his godfather a heart attack when he turned from the stove to see an empty chair.

Intelligently, Harry had turned to Molly Weasley who, in raising the twins, had a complete arsenal of childcare tricks. Teddy wasn't going anywhere this time around and he knew it; Hermione hid a smile as she took in his somewhat put-out expression.

"So," Harry said, passing her a mug of tea. "What did you want to talk about? You sounded pretty serious through the floo the other day – it's not Malfoy, is it?"

"No," she denied with a fond smile. "He's actually doing superbly, I'll have you know."

"I'll believe that when I see it."

"I did offer a cupcake if you came to the bake sale in Offley," Hermione said before returning decisively to topic. "No, I'm here because, well, I need to tell you some things, Harry."

"Oh, god, you're not pregnant are you?" he interrupted quickly.

"No!"

"Oh, good," he breathed. "You just sounded like Ange is all, when she announced her impending baby boom at the Burrow."

"Well, I'm not pregnant," she told him firmly. "It's rather more complicated than the circle of life as we know it." Unconsciously she began to wring her hands. "You see, I- I've not been completely honest with you lately, Harry."

He raised a brow.

"You remember a while back when I asked you about those who laid down their lives for the fight against Voldemort?" He nodded. "And you said 'like Regulus'?"

"Yes," Harry drew out the word cautiously.

"There was a bit more to it than that," she confessed. "Now, because I know that you'll not have any idea about the folklore I'm about to tell you, please don't interrupt me. It's very important and I'm sure it will all make sense when I get to the end, but try and wait 'til then before you come to any conclusions. Please."

"Alright," he agreed.

Hermione took a deep breath and began her tale. "Several months ago I woke to find a presence in Grimmauld Place. At first I thought it was just a trick of my mind, or the light, but it as it turns out I was party to an aspect of Wizarding folklore of which even the purebloods are sceptical.

"They're called Angels – restless spirits who cannot pass on to the Otherworld to rest in peace. In some ways they're like ghosts, but they're categorised in two ways – vengeful spirits and the incomplete," Hermione explained. "Additionally, they can be seen only by a rare few with the necessary magical qualities. Curiously enough, I'm one of them."

Harry looked warily sceptical.

"Luckily, my experience has been solely with the latter type of Angel," she continued with barely a pause. "The spectral residue of Regulus Black has been waiting since nineteen seventy nine to be released and remembered – and I, being me," she said with a deprecating laugh, "am the one to do it. Typical, isn't it?"

"I don't quite understand," Harry admitted. "I mean, I believe you – you're not one to lie without reason – but Regulus is… an angel?"

"Yes. Though they're not at all like what we'd imagine, or what muggles imagine." Hermione felt relief at Harry's statement but still she hesitated. He was struggling to wrap his head around it – Draco had at least heard the stories from his family.

"Teddy can see him, too," she offered tentatively. "All babies can, though once the magic manifests or is channelled through a wand the ability is reduced to only a select few."

"I should've thought I'd be able to, given that I'm Master of Death," Harry said with a self-effacing grimace. "But I'm glad I can't, to be honest. It's nice when things happen to other people."

Hermione smiled. "I can finally say 'I know what you mean'."

Harry, being The Chosen One, and therefore experienced in peculiar happenings, was full of helpful ideas and comments in the discussion that followed, his Auror training shining through in the manner with which he dealt with the information offered and, frankly, the whole bizarre situation.

"If there's nothing else you think is of paramount importance then I'll start on Kingsley immediately," Harry stated. They'd decided to involve the Minister due to his link to the Order and the DMLE, but Hermione was glad to have someone she could also count as a friend. Since he was now Minister for Magic, the entire event would receive the acknowledgement it deserved on a basic level while Regulus would receive his hoped-for recognition.

She commented on this to Harry, who again frowned lightly.

"So, his completion requires you to retrieve his body?" he checked.

Hermione nodded. "I can't help but think that a proper burial will probably be the clincher, but really it simply means laying the Inferi in the cave to rest – a dangerous task at best!" She fidgeted somewhat uncomfortably. "God, Harry," she whispered with a pronounced shudder. "There's going to be a hundred bodies in there!"

"We'll have to call in the Auror Liaison Officers," Harry told her with a frown. "Some of the individuals will be cold cases, and that's from both sides of the border."

"Creating Inferi is one of the most awful things," Hermione said sadly after a moment's silence. "To have that many bodies, to kill that many people, it's as bad as creating horcruxes when all is said and done."

Harry reached over to clasp her hand in his, the silence conveying all it needed. He would deal with the Aurors and the Minister, allowing Hermione to do what needed to be done without interference.

"Are you absolutely sure you won't take the Aurors in with you?" Harry had asked as she prepared to leave, but Hermione stayed true to her plan. Too many others in the cave would cause more trouble than it was worth when it came to performing the ritual; it was dangerous, but with their growing arsenal she was confident that she and Draco could succeed. If worse came to worse, Hermione would send her patronus for help, but she wouldn't have six men she barely knew put in danger, even if it was their job.

This was her duty and Draco's prerogative.

||4||

The dawn suggested a pleasant day but all Hermione hoped was that she'd be around to see evening fall.

"Are you ready?" she asked her two companions as they stood on the rocky outcrop that would lead them into Riddle's cave. Behind them, Harry and twelve of his team waited nervously, wands in hand.

"As ever," Draco said. Regulus smiled, eager yet nervous. Hermione took a fortifying breath and marched onwards.

The cave looked harmless, though it felt awful. The magic it had held inside it was of the most dangerous and dark kind and over the years it had seeped into the very rock and water of the place. Frankly, Hermione wanted to turn tail and run, but she had a job to do – she'd see this through or die trying. She gulped, halting her conviction in its attempt to flee.

"Alright," she whispered to the others, grateful that her voice didn't crack. "We're looking for a vial of blood. It'll be somewhere protected, but also in prime position. Get searching, boys – and remember to stay clear of the water!"

Fifteen minutes of delicate exploration and they were no nearer their goal than when they'd started but a chance movement by Draco, engendered by anger, knocked a pile of rubble loose from a niche hidden in the rock wall.

"Here!" he called furtively. "This looks promising."

Trapped in what seemed a deep contemplation, Regulus lagged behind as Hermione joined Draco by the cave's perimeter.

"Give me a boost?" she asked. He complied and she peeked into the hole with ease.

There, glinting in the gentle Lumos, was the vial.

The blood contained inside had a sickly black sheen to it, lending it even more malevolence than already perceived. Signalling Draco to let her down, Hermione dropped onto the cave floor.

"It's there." She glanced at Regulus. "But I can't help but feel that interfering with it will give us trouble."

"We expected trouble," the spectre reminded her. "We'll cross those bridges when we come to then, though, and not before."

She nodded, swallowing nervously. After a short pause, she was lifted by Draco once again so that she was level with the hole in the rock wall.

She reached out, but as soon as her fingers touched the vial there erupted a piercing scream, joined within moments by numerous others. The three youths covered their ears, Hermione toppling to the floor as a result, the vial rolling out of her grasp, and she gave a revolted gasp when she saw what else had been set in motion: rising out of the murky water, their lifeless eyes awful and forbidding, were countless Inferi.

Draco let loose a string of choice profanities, during which the screaming abruptly halted.

Unfortunately, the advance of the walking dead did not similarly abate. The two unyielding figures quickly released a spate of defensive spells at the horde of Inferi but most had no effect, and only the fire based magic gave the walking dead any cause to hesitate.

"Fire, Draco!" Hermione cried, disabling two Inferi with one spell. "Use fire – it's the only thing that will work!"

Adrenaline took over.

There were too many of them to keep up any kind of substantial defence as each fleeting victory was tailed by at least two new attacks. It was like dealing with a hydra.

Regulus, untouchable to the horde, darted between them, chasing the vial as it bounced against the rock floor. With a combination of desperation, luck and concentration, he managed to pick it up and force his way back to the others.

They were, thankfully, in reach of the niche where Draco's blood needed to be settled, and Hermione, acting almost as quickly as she thought, retrieved the new vial from her belt and, with Draco at her back, levitated it skilfully to replace its grandsire.

The loss of her additional wand-work allowed the Inferi to regroup and their attacks seemed to double in Draco's eyes. He sent spells this way and that, working furiously, but the Inferi bore down heavily, their immense numbers giving them a clear advantage. Once the blood successfully installed, Regulus tossed the old vial to Hermione. She caught it deftly, and placed it purposefully on the floor.

"Any time now, Hermione," Draco cried desperately as one of the creatures grasped his arm. He sliced the dead limb away with liquid fire, knocking the mutilated creature back violently.

Hermione aimed her wand at the original vial.

"Bombarda."

It burst spectacularly, completely destroyed by the spell, leaving only a spattering of blood to stain the ground. A line of orange passed over her shoulder; she spun to see Draco's spell toppling the two Inferi behind her against a third and stumbled back awkwardly, removing herself from their reach. She took a moment to return the favour when several of the dead creatures surged forward against the valiantly fighting blond, but when he waved a salute that managed to say both 'thank you' and 'do the fucking spell already' she returned her attention to his blood.

The wall of Inferi surged forward relentlessly, and it was with barely any time to spare that Hermione executed the spell.

"Retromors!" she screamed, sending the jet of light at the replacement vial just as one of the dead men's hands clamped around her ankle and another latched onto Draco's shoulder.

A bright white orb exploded into existence.

Instantly, the horde of Inferi collapsed, visible changes coming over them as they reverted from the tattered grey forms to figures that may as well have been sleeping, they were so peaceful in death.

Breathing heavily, Hermione looked at her friends with a wide, overtaxed expression.

"Morgana's tits," Draco expounded, pulling back his fringe and looking directly at his newly visible cousin. Regulus exhaled staggeringly, staring fixatedly at the light.

"Cousin," Draco said weakly. "I see you now."

Regulus turned, his eyes wide, and Draco offered a tentative hand, the remnants of his polite upbringing shining through. They shook, Regulus' own hand having solidified now to an almost human density.

The words that passed between them then went unheard by the exhausted Hermione, though she absorbed their wry, solemn smiles with a strange feeling of detachment. She couldn't have said for how long they spoke; all her attention was fixed on remaining upright.

However, the moment Regulus' glance flickered to her face recent events suddenly caught her up with all the impact of a freight train.

||5||

She couldn't help it; she burst into tears.

"Why are you crying?" Regulus cajoled, broaching the space between them. "This is supposed to be my happy ending."

Hermione released a watery laugh. "It's just," she said guiltily, "I've sort of gotten used to having you around… and there were so many Inferi – you know, I don't think I've ever been so frightened in my life! – and now you're going to – to move on."

There was a heavy silence where Regulus smiled wistfully and Hermione hurriedly wiped at her teary eyes.

"Come here," he instructed and Hermione obeyed without pause, stepping forward until she was only a hands-breadth away from him. Regulus closed the distance and encircled her with his arms. His touch, once completely imperceptible, felt like feathers caressing her skin; his gentle grasp moved to cup her head against his chest as she silently let her tears fall, and Hermione was only barely aware of Draco stepping respectfully away.

"I can't thank you enough, Hermione," Regulus whispered into her ear as she hugged him to her more tightly. "Without you I would never have found this opportunity, never had any hope of this."

"I didn't really do anything," she said wetly and Regulus wiped the tear tracks away with his thumbs, holding her face so she was looking directly at him.

"You saw me," he said firmly. "You agreed to help me and that's all I could have asked for." He pressed a feather-soft kiss to her forehead, and she sniffled as he added tenderly: "My journey is almost complete, thanks to you, Hermione Granger."

The bright white light behind them pulsated and Regulus closed his eyes blissfully.

"Redemption is so very sweet," he breathed. "Please, Hermione, send me home."

She nodded shakily and wiped her eyes clear of tears.

A calming breath was drawn, and then Hermione felt the ancient ritual come alive.

"Avem qalut salacia," she said, knowing the words though she had never heard them before. "Sinqulum felix atarnem qe. Eltanes hum delri, nar qilim sint as begam."

A rumble filled the cave, and Draco anxiously tightened his grip on the hawthorn wand as Hermione continued to speak. He held it ready, just in case the removal of the magic which had coated the place caused the ceiling to fall in, and occupied a defensive stance.

Hermione was working off her own instinct, her unique role as a Redeemer allowing her magic to direct her words and actions. Later, Draco would recount the way her hair seemed to crackle with energy, her skin taking on an ethereal glow that matched the light which surrounded Regulus.

"Qeno angelus helat aRex, avem qalut salacia," she concluded on a crescendo, her closed eyes snapping open.

There was an overwhelming fluctuation of light and sight was temporarily removed as a deafening silence hit the chamber. It was accompanied by the same intense feeling of suffocation as when Regulus had frightened Hermione with the Presence on their second meeting. This time, however, the raw power had increased ten-fold.

For a moment, time was suspended. The light diminished and Hermione could see the silhouette of her spectral friend right in the centre of the orb, his arms spread wide as he floated in a sea of light, his vast black wings reaching out to their full span.

The pressure intensified until Hermione thought she would surely explode, and then-

There was nothing.

The light vanished and Regulus with it; the cave had finally returned to its natural state, no longer violated by dark magic.

Hermione stared at the empty space in silence, motionless and bereft.

"You'll have to write that book now," Draco murmured quietly, approaching carefully from behind and gently slipping his hand into hers. Hermione gripped it tightly, not caring about the tears that rolled unremittingly down her cheeks. "Come away, Hermione. Potter will be worried if we don't return soon."

||6||

The Aurors had stopped her from looking through the bodies, stopped her from searching out Regulus. They were right to do so, but it had hurt tremendously at the time and, in the end, Draco had resorted to taking her Side-Along to Grimmauld Place and making her tea, sitting in silence with her at the old kitchen table.

Harry had turned up late in the evening, explaining the numbers and procedure from then on, but when he'd finished the business details he'd turned to her and hugged her close.

When he left he shook hands with Malfoy and gave him a crooked smile. "I never thought I'd be thankful to you again," he'd said wryly before gesturing to the kitchen with his chin. "Look after her, will you?"

"Of course," Draco had replied simply.

Now, three weeks later, Hermione had been informed of the proceedings which would take place Sunday next. Many of the bodies had been missing members of the Order of the Phoenix from the first war, or unlucky neutrals who must have refused whatever enticement Voldemort had used to try and bring them on-side; some, happily only a very few, were unfortunate muggle victims, senselessly murdered. It had been troublesome dealing with the muggle police, but in the end closure for almost all of the muggle families was reached. Of course, now that the magical folk had been identified, the funerals could take place, as could the additions and adjustments to the war memorials.

This was the most important thing for Regulus, Hermione felt. His departure, while craved, had left her lonely and oftentimes she found herself expecting a glib reply when none came; it hurt more than she'd anticipated.

By the time Sunday arrived on her doorstep, torrential rain and wind in tow, she was feeling rather morose. Being bedecked entirely in black wasn't helping matters either.

A knock on her door made her start, and she answered it to find Draco, impeccably attired and possessed of a very smug self-assurance, waiting there for her.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

"I suppose," she murmured. He clearly didn't believe her, because he gave her a once over and then pushed her back inside.

"Oh, no, Granger" he said firmly. "This is not how we're going to send off my cousin. You're going into the bathroom and turning yourself into the girl who attended the Yule Ball. None of this Babbity Rabbity-look you've got going right now."

"But-" Hermione tried to protest. Draco cut her off.

"No. Bathroom, now!" Obediently she allowed him to hustle her in. "You've ten minutes before we have to leave. Chop, chop."

Funnily enough, taking care of her appearance had indeed had a calming effect on her – or, at least, had transferred her emotions into frustration at her hair. In the end she'd cheated and used magic to restrain it, but Draco's face upon her exit truly made it worthwhile.

"There we go," he said after he collected his wits. "Now, let's let the bastard rest in peace."

For all he was a Malfoy, occasionally Draco really stood out as a Black, Hermione thought privately as she took his arm. The Side-Apparition was smooth and she was greeted by the sight of a large podium on a darkly decorated mourning stage when they arrived at the Apparition point a moment later. The bronze memorial glowed on its right.

The Minister, Kingsley, greeted them, before personally ushering Hermione and Draco to their seats near the stage.

"This is largely a result of your concerted effort, Hermione," he acknowledged as they reached the front. "And we can't thank you enough – you, too, Mister Malfoy. So many families have found comfort and closure this month."

"It was the right thing to do," Hermione stated easily.

It was a lovely memorial service, respectful and well organised, and Hermione was pleased to see Harry concede to pressure and give a compassionate speech that had majority of the audience weeping quietly into handkerchiefs. At the service's close, the Minister's spell set the engraving quill in motion and Hermione watched as Regulus' name joined those of Remus and Tonks – all those who had died fighting Voldemort – on the bronze obelisk. She wiped at a stray tear and smiled at Draco.

"Well," Harry murmured on approach, "It's done. How do you feel?"

"Better," Hermione admitted, her eyes welling up at the implication behind his words. For a split second she expected a glib remark from Regulus, but it was overwhelmed by the blond at her side.

"Marginally," Draco amended her response, "but she's getting there. I can almost take her places."

With that, something fell into place.

Regulus was gone – no, was finally resting in peace, and though she'd miss his snarky replies, rude barbs and general snobbishness, she now had Draco to turn to, to embrace as a friend. It was okay, she realised, because Draco had, in many ways, come to fill the space in her heart that Regulus had claimed since they'd met so many months previous.

She smiled and looked at the two boys before her. "No," she corrected. "I'm much better."

||7||

It was October. The cemetery was silent but for the sound of their footsteps on the autumn leaves that had fallen to coat the ground. They arrived at their destination and halted, both taking in the words on the pale marble:

Regulus Arcturus Black
1961-1979

"Behold, a Hero's Grave"

Hermione sniffed quietly.

"Did you love him?" Draco asked solemnly, his hand gently clasping hers. She entwined their fingers, urged to tell the truth.

"In a way," she replied evenly, her eyes fixed on the curling script. "I mean, I think I did. But he wasn't exactly real – not anymore."

"I understand, I think." Draco drew their linked hands to his mouth, pressing his lips gently to her slender wrist.

There was a comfortable pause, after which Hermione asked, "What did he say to you? In the cave, I mean."

Draco smiled, remembering. "He simply said: 'Take care of her Malfoy – I'll know if you don't.' And I promised him I would. Always," he breathed earnestly, kissing her hairline.

She cuddled closer. "You have," she declared quietly before drifting into a simple silence.

Together they stood before the marble headstone until the night surrounded them, cloaking them in darkness.

End.

Read and Review responsibly, please and thank you.

Cheers to everybody and anybody who has put this story on alert or in their favourites, but extra special thanks to those who have reviewed. Truly, it means an awful lot to me to see a review in my inbox letting me know your thoughts.

The words Hermione recites to send Regulus 'home' were made up by my fingers at random, and any similarity to existing languages or words is entirely unintentional and accidental (aside from 'Rex' which is, naturally, 'king', due to 'Regulus'). I hope you've enjoyed my story; I certainly enjoyed writing it.