Four. The Ten Challenge; Ten Stories in Ten Hours.

There is a mysterious death in summer.

They stood in the hall, his coffin between them.

Her eyes were as if they had aged over night, the last Malfoy woman standing. Her brown and grey hair was tied into a tight bun on the top of her head as her blue eyes drilled holes in hers.

Her chocolate frizzy hair was loose and un-brushed, her eyes bloodshot and rimmed red, the tear tracks still on her cheeks. She was no longer youthful or smiling, she was cold and broken.

"How did he die," were the fateful words that broke the silence.

"I don't know," Narcissa said.

"HOW DID HE DIE?" she screamed, the tears already flowing.

"I tried to stop them, I did. It wasn't meant to end like that, he should've lived longer than me," she babbled on, each step bringing her closer to the other female, arms open.

Then her knees faltered, but she caught her and brought her to the ground, both crying tears of sorrow for the loving man that they had lost.

His blonde hair, his grey intense eyes. He smile, so rare but so beautiful. His heart.

And it was gone, all gone. So, so gone. He was gone, and he wouldn't be coming back.

The summer winds blew around the hall and they sat their quietly, trading their stories of anguish, drama and love, so much love.

So what, he died. But the legacy that he left behind was more than anyone could've ever imagined, and Hermione hope that he would be smiling down at them, remembering.


Go on, flame me. I dare you.