JK Rowling still owns everything HP.
A/N: I should be working on New Council and Hide Me. I know. *bows head in shame*. But I'm feeling awfully maudlin and depressed, and I would hate to kill off one of those characters in the heat of the moment.
So uh, you know. I did this.
Pairing: Draco/Harry. Warning: Character Death. Also, slash. Cause you know, it's Draco and Harry. Together. As in a couple. And angst. Angst up the wazoo.
Ten years ago her dad brought her here to visit her papa. They made a day of it like they always did, with a picnic at the grave and loads of jokes about her papa’s morbid sense of humor. Her dad had said that her papa was possibly the only person in the world that would appreciate the fact that his child and widowed husband were eating on his grave.
Her dad had smiled with her, he had laughed at her clumsy attempts at cartwheels and squeezed her hand in support.
They had a beautiful day together and her dad made sure that she was tucked away safely before going back to the Ministry. They had found Rookwood and dad wanted to be present at his interrogation.
Rookwood had a gun present on him. The gun hadn’t set off the Ministry’s wards and he had been able to smuggle it in. How stupid that the wizarding world’s savior was killed by a little bullet going in behind his ear as he ducked.
Lily had wondered whether he thought of her as he tried to get to safety. Or if he thought of papa. The aurors present had said that her dad had hesitated. That he had approximately five seconds in which he could have easily Avada-d the Death Eating scumbag across from him. But he had paused and Lily knew
that he had hoped to see papa in that moment.
Lily sat at the graveyard’s gate as the sun set around her.
The air smelled heavy with the dying rays, the heat reflected off the cement and freshly mown grass. Finally the last of the stragglers cleared out and she began her pace towards the two gravestones at the end of the cemetery. It was a muggle cemetery, so incongruous that two of the wizarding world’s most notorious people would be buried in a suburb of Dublin. Only three people knew where her parents final resting place was and that was enough.
Nobody else would be able to get a say in the relationship between Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. They could finally be peacefully together, even if it was in death.
Their gravestones stood untouched, the effects of time and normal tear kept away by cleverly disguised spells. Lily dropped to her knees slowly and began her weekly ritual. A white lily for her dad’s tombstone and a purple narcissus for her papa’s. Each for their mothers, the women that came through in the end and gave their lives for their sons.
She smoothed the stone, fingers etching over the inscription of - ‘Harry Potter. Hero.’ It was probably just a stupid delusion but she could swear that his gravestone felt like his stubbled cheek; rough, warm. Dad-like.
Lily swallowed the lump in her throat and turned to the other grave. Papa had been killed when she was ten. She didn’t like thinking of the summer when she and daddy spent the days grieving and flittering around the manor like shadows. Papa would have been thirty two the day that he was murdered. Lily had planned his surprise birthday party with Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron.
She knew that something was wrong when Uncle Seamus had knocked on the door and said that her dad was being treated in St.Mungo’s for shock and magical depletion.
Harry Potter, the defeater of Voldemort, had fried his magical circuits and the spells powering the Ministry when he was told that Draco Malfoy had been killed in the line of duty.
To this day, people still remembered the spectacular explosions of glass and the smell of smoke on June 6th, 2002. The witches and wizards screaming from the still fresh horror of the war, the sheer panic as people scrambled to defend themselves against an unseen enemy. There were claims that it had been death eater attacks, claims that it was a show of strength from the United Werewolves Front, that the house elves had finally united with the leprechauns and were now taking back the Ministry.
Nobody had ever found out that the mind numbing terror of those minutes were because of one man’s grief.
Lily stroked her papa’s headstone. It was white marble, it too reminded her of her papa and his perpetually posh public appearance. Only she could still remember the days when Draco Malfoy would run around the backyard with her shouting water spells in the heat of the summer. How his hair stuck out in those strange peaks and angles and the gleam in his eye as he swung her around. She remembered the smell of him, the feel of his hugs.
“I miss you papa,” she whispered and kissed the smooth stone. The inscription never failed to comfort her. ‘Draco Malfoy- he loved.’ She traced her fingers over the letters and could almost feel her parents standing next to her, the shadow of their hands ghosting over her hair.
It had been a few years since she cried, she didn’t know if that was good. But as she started talking to her parents, she felt some of the emptiness, the gaping
hole in her heart begin to dissipate.
She talked about her various aunts and uncles. She told her parents about her job offers since she had resigned from the DMLE and could almost see her papa’s proud smirk. He would be standing next to her with his arms crossed, his eyebrow arched and his perfectly haughty voice saying that of course
his daughter would be ambitious.
Lily talked about her friends, her cousins. She talked about Rose and their plans to travel to Italy with Ian Zabini. She blushed as she talked about Teddy and wished desperately that her parents were here. Not for the first and last time. But for something as trivial as advice about guys, for warm milk and freshly baked cookies, for scathing remarks and one armed hugs.
For too long Lily Potter-Malfoy had been on her own.
She talked and finally the tears came. They dripped, hot and salty on her cheeks and stung the sunburned skin from working outside. She didn’t wipe them off.
Lily railed at the world for depriving her of parents. For not letting her parents get more time together. For taking Teddy’s parents. For bringing murderers like Rookwood and Nott into the world. She cried and her voice turned hoarse from her sobs.
It was almost a full five minutes but she lifted her head as a familiar scent trailed her senses. Lavender. Freshly picked judging by the sharpness of the tang, young.
Daddy and papa had always given her a small bouquet of lavender beside her other presents on her birthday. They would sit with her, papa would stroke her hair while daddy talked about some muggle fairytale about a father turning into a beautiful lavender bouquet for his daughter’s wedding. Some archaic ritual for happiness. But Lily had always understood the moral of the tale, her fathers would do anything for her.
She stood up and almost tripped over her long dress in her hurry to find out where the smell was coming from. Lily narrowed her eyes as she searched the cemetery for any lavender. It was distressingly free of any flowers and her heart sped up at the implications of this.
She stared unblinkingly at the headstones in front of her. Lily felt like a damn fool but she knew she had to try. “Daddy? Papa?” she whispered and her voice broke on those two words.
She could feel a tendril of treacherous hope swirling its way into her heart. A beat passed in silence and just as she was about to leave, a breeze picked up. It smelled like the sea air from where their first house stood, like a curious mixture of salt, rock and wild grass. She stood still and the current felt like one of papa’s hugs around her. It dried her tears and managed to simultaneously calm the wild frizz of her hair. Lily laughed unconsciously, one of her dad’s favourite things to do as a father was surreptitiously trying to fix her wild mane. He was determined that at least her hair would be manageable and papa found this to be an endless source of amusement.
Lily stood in the middle of a sea breeze in a Dublin cemetery and smiled as she felt her fathers’ love around her. Maybe they weren't physically present, maybe they had been gone for a few years- but Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy were always next to their daughter.