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The Funeral	By : cpetnm Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 7733 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
A.N. This is it, you guys! Thank you to everyone who read and those that took the time to review.

@starr: It took them a while to get back to each other, so I hope this chapter doesn’t rush their relationship too much. Thanks so much for your comments and support!

@Sherlocked17: As you can probably appreciate, my kids are home for the summer and it is SO hard to keep writing. They are pretty darn nosy! FYI, my good friend is friends with your Benedict. Cool, huh? Thanks for catching up and commenting!

@colao: I am an escapist reader, so I absolutely appreciate wanting to read something that doesn’t make me feel bad. Normally, I don’t write about such dark subjects, but this plot kept putting itself into my brain. Well, thank you for giving the story a chance and I think the end is a bit happier than the beginning.

@ChaosLady: Thank you! I’ve appreciated your support. :)

@Victoria: The interaction with the dead is something I think we Muggles ;) really yearn for. The wizarding world has this advantage, but the interaction seems to be more healing for the dead than the living. Do you read the Black Dagger Brotherhood books? The author always does such a beautiful job of describing the funeral rituals and I imagined pure-blood society would have similar rituals as the old vampire families do in that series. Thank you for all the fabulous comments and thought-provoking ideas!

@General Crow: Your eulogies to Fred, Remus, and Tonks made me cry! In my story, I think they all make their way to the afterlife and it is everything they want it to be. There’s one more eulogy you’ll have to make at the end of this last chapter. As always, thank you for the beautiful conversation and heartening comments.

@Trelweny: Are you a therapist by any chance?? Your comments are so intuitive and point out exactly my intent, without me even realizing it. Yes, it does make absolute sense in my mind that Draco was scared out of his wits and followed The Dark for that reason alone. He didn’t want to die! After your comment, I decided to give a bit more detail to that idea in this last chapter. Thank you for your fab reviews and support!

Hermione waited at the warehouse doors for Draco as he finished explaining to an Auror which dead were ready to return to their families. When she’d first started assisting him, she’d worried that the Aurors, or the families of the dead, for that matter, would bully or insult Draco, but there was a solemn deference he had from those he dealt with. He was so serious and careful to be respectful that people responded to him as a fellow survivor instead of as a Death Eater and a son of the Dark.

“Are you ready?” he asked as they walked away from the room.

“I’m ready. Thank you for coming with me to the house.”

“Have you heard anything from the Australian Ministry?”

She adjusted her bag and he took her hand. She had, thank Merlin, agreed to give him another chance, but it was slow and the work they did all day didn’t exactly facilitate romance. But, he knew she had developed a respect for him she had lost when he’d opened the school to the Dark Lord’s troops.

“No. They haven’t been very helpful, since my parents are Muggles,” she admitted.

“Will you go and look for them?”

“I suppose that’s what I have to do. My plan was to go back to Hogwarts for my last year, but the longer the Memory Charm is on my parents, the harder it will be to reverse.”

Draco nodded in agreement, but if anyone could bring back Hermione’s parents’ memories, it was this brilliant witch.

In the next few days, both Lucius and Narcissa were due to stand before the Wizengamot for their crimes against both wizards and Muggles alike. Draco knew Harry Potter planned to give testimony for Narcissa, but Lucius didn’t have anyone to speak on his behalf. Draco had gone to see his parents right after they had arranged for his release in exchange for the necessary Malfoy undertaking skills, but Lucius had said he needed to atone for his deeds. It was unlikely Draco could do anything for his father, but he could at least be there to attest to the fact that for most of the last year, the Malfoys had been prisoners in their own home.

Noticing her partner lost in his thoughts, Hermione led him out of the Ministry and to the Apparition point.

“I’m going to Side-Along to my parents’ house, okay?” she said, taking Draco’s arm in her hand.

A feeling of being sucked through a tube ended abruptly as they were spit out in an overgrown suburban yard. Hermione held her wand aloft and began dismantling the wards surrounding the house.

No wonder the Death Eaters were never able to find the Granger’s home. Probably better warding than the manor.

When she finished, she led him to the back door and opened it with a much sturdier version of Alohomora. Though the interior was stale and dark, Draco could see it was modern and comfortable.

“Lumos,” Hermione whispered.

“You grew up here?”

“I did. My mum inherited the house when her parents died.”

They made their way through the house and it appeared undisturbed. They ended up in Hermione’s room, which was totally lacking in anything that identified it as hers.

“Where’s your stuff?”

She looked in the closet and Summoned a shoebox of magically shrunk items.

“All my stuff is here. I had to make it seem like I hadn’t been born, as not to confuse them. They took all their personal affects with them to Australia, so the house looks like it could belong to anyone.”

“Do you still want to stay here?”

“The Weasleys have been really gracious, but honestly, I could use some time to sort out my own issues. They’re very wrapped up in Fred’s death and I feel like an intruder a lot of the time.”

“I don’t want you to be by yourself. Obviously, I have no say in what you do, but you’re really isolated here.”

Ever since Draco had decided to confide in Hermione Granger in their sixth year, he worried for her safety. He’d seen first hand the heinous abuse Muggles and Muggle-borns had been subjected to, but she was the war’s most famous Muggle-born. Her association with Potter and The Order made her the target of pure-blood sympathizers. He was amazed nothing had happened to her since the smoke settled after the final battle.

“Well, I’m not sure if this is the compromise you were thinking, but you could stay with me,” she said hesitantly.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his confident, serious mask slipping. Of course he wanted to be where she was.

“I think so,” she said, pulling him into a kiss. He wrapped his arms around her and for the first time in months and months, she felt a sense of love and belonging and comfort. It was surreal, being in her Obliviated parents’ house with her former nemesis, but she was home and with a wizard she’d bonded with in his darkest hours. She didn’t know what would happen to them in the future, but they’d carried a torch for one another for over a year and that had to mean something in these bleak times.

“Get away from me!”

Draco grabbed her arm, pulling her against his chest as she struggled against him.

“Please, you have to understand, I don’t have a choice!” He said, begging her to comprehend the death that awaited his parents if he didn’t complete the task given to him by the Dark Lord.

“Fuck you, Malfoy! You used me as your confessor and to get your rocks off.” With a final shove, she made to grab her wand, but Draco quickly pulled it out of her wand pocket.

“You know that’s not true. The safe passage out of England is the only way I can ensure your safety. Take the amulet, Hermione. It’s a Portkey to a cottage in Germany.”

She gave him an incredulous stare. “I should hide while my friends are slaughtered by Death Eaters? No thanks, I’d rather die than hole up like a coward, hiding in another country.”

In all the years he’d known Hermione, Draco had never seen her look so enraged and… disappointed. But it was absolutely unlikely she’d survive the war.

“The Dark Lord is powerful and the Death Eaters are devoted and vengeful. There’s no way your side will win. Please, Hermione, please don’t take Potter’s side. You’ll be safe in Germany.”

Her breathing had become measured and deep in an effort to contain her violent emotions. She wanted to simultaneously attack and seek comfort in Draco. She closed her eyes for a moment before she responded.

“No one should have to pick between their parents and what they know is right.” His hold on her had loosened enough for her to step back. She held out her hand to reclaim her wand. Her composure cracked and a sob bubbled from her chest as he passed her wand back to her.

His eyes burned as she glanced at him one last time. Why couldn’t she understand what he had been trying to tell her for months?

“Goodbye, Draco,” she whispered as the door from the Room of Requirement materialized in front of her.

I’ll never see her again was all he could think as he sat heavily, his burden and his torn heart making it impossible for him to get back to his dorm.

It was dark when he woke from that bloody horrid memory dream. Hermione quietly opened his door.

“Can I come in?”

“Yeah.” His voice was so resigned it broke her heart.

She moved to sit next to him on the bed and put an arm around his waist. They sat in silence with Hermione lending Draco her warmth and silent support.

“I’ll be a curse on you,” Draco murmured as he continued to look down at his lap.

Hermione laid down and tugged Draco to get him to lie beside her. He pulled her under his chin, not wanting to see her big eyes studying him through the darkness. He had held her this way so many times during their sixth year. The scent of her hair and her warm breath against his chest had always calmed him.

“Draco,” she whispered, nestling her body against his thin frame. Merlin, he felt so good. It was a relief that he wasn’t shutting her out.

“How can you forgive me for what I’ve done?”

One arm wrapped around his back and her fingers slowly stroked his naked skin. He’d shown her such little vulnerability over the past few weeks, but his life was as tenuous as her own. Since the final battle, it had been easy to focus on what she’d lost, but Draco’s losses were as great as anyone who had an investment in the war. Add to that the fact that he’d been coerced into Voldemort’s service and Hermione’s heart had finally thawed enough to forgive him for the side he’d taken.

“I’d like to think that if your parents’ lives hadn’t been at stake, you would have made different choices.”

“I would’ve,” he agreed, tightening his fingers on her body.

“And I’ve seen you act with great compassion and respect for the dead and their families. That alone has shown me who you really are, Draco, more than anything.”

He was quiet as he considered what she’d said. If the war had taught him anything, it was to appreciate every day he, and those he loved, had in this plane of existence. He had seen endless lives snuffed out over the past year and it gave him the courage he needed to begin a new life without all the resources he had as a wealthy scion of the Malfoy family.

“Will you help me start over?”

It was then Hermione realized while Draco had been helping the dead make their way to a new life in a peaceful, happier place, those who survived the war needed guides to help them through their transition to a better place as well. He needed this as much as she did and if Hermione understood anything about wizarding culture, they couldn’t depend on others to help them solve their problems. It would be up to each individual to heal in their own way and in their own time.

“We can start over together.”

Weeks passed and finally the never-ending procession of dead bodies seemed to ebb. Draco and Hermione worked every day, from early in the morning until late in the evening. They spent all their time together, but it was difficult to do more than fall exhausted into bed at the end of their day.

One decision was made for Hermione that helped her make plans for the future. Hogwarts would be closed for repairs the following school year. The Final Battle had demolished huge sections of the school and the funds and manpower needed to help the castle were not as abundant as they would have been at another time. Draco was not planning on going back to the school and had told Hermione he would take his N.E.W.T.s when the Ministry offered them the following spring. She decided to follow suit and skip her final year of school. She’d still take her tests, and ace them if she had anything to say about it, but she didn’t want to be an almost-twenty-year-old seventh year by the time the school finally opened up for students again.

The body Draco had been dreading preparing was his godfather, Severus Snape. Nagini’s venom had ravaged his body and Draco had been surprised MacGonagall had Snape’s body shipped to the Ministry. He’d left this wizard for last, both because he wanted time to make arrangements for the burial and to allow himself time to mourn the man who’d protected his body and, more importantly, his soul from total spiritual deterioration.

As soon as Draco opened Severus’ bag, the man’s ghost materialized and stared at him with disapproval.

“Draco,” the ghost drawled, his eyebrow quirked in question.

It was difficult, but this man needed to get to his beyond. He deserved a happy end more than anyone Draco had ever known.

“Good evening, Godfather. I’m preparing your for your journey,” he began, his throat closing up on the last word.

“Yes, I’m aware,” Severus said in his dry, sarcastic manner. “The Light won?”

“Yes, sir. Potter was able to defeat the Dark Lord.”

Snape nodded. “Your parents?”

“My mother is under house arrest for the next two years, but Father will remain in Azkaban.”

Though he had been sad his father would stay in prison, it had not been a shock. Even Lucius had known his crimes against humanity deserved severe retribution. The man hadn’t even mounted much of a defense at his trial.

“Ah,” Severus said, observing his godson. Though the young man was somber, he seemed purposeful and not entirely unhappy. “Miss Granger?”

“She lived, thank Merlin.”

Draco’s Occlumency and Legilimency lessons with Professor Snape had shown the teacher details of his relationship with the Muggle-born witch. Snape had known Draco had confided in her, but he’d been surprised by the intimate relationship that had developed between the two.

“I am ready to go, Draco. This time, I believe I will have my chance with Lily,” the Potions Master whispered.

“Volui te vita tua omnia mea.”

Let your next life be all that you have wanted.

Severus gave him one of his elusive smiles, his ghostly image sinking back into his body. When Draco looked at his godfather, the expression on his face was so peaceful, Draco knew things would only improve. He wouldn’t let Severus’ sacrifice be in vain.

Hermione Apparated to the Burrow and walked up the path to the tall, rickety house. Harry met her in the grassy meadow, embracing her like the sister she was to him.

“I’ve missed you,” he whispered into her hair.

“I missed you, too,” she said into his chest.

He slung an arm around her shoulder as they made their way to Molly’s shady, fragrant garden. They sat on a bench under a huge oak tree. Harry fished out his cigarettes and offered one to Hermione.

“No, I quit.”

“Malfoy’s a bloody bad influence on you,” he said with a small smile.

She smiled back at her friend. He had spent his summer at the Burrow, avoiding people and turning down offers in Magical Law Enforcement and other departments within the Ministry. She wasn’t sure what he did all day, as Ron had accepted an offer to train with the Chudley Cannons and Ginny was helping George with the joke shop.

“The Ministry released Draco from service yesterday, since the only bodies coming in now are unrelated to the war. We’re going to Australia to look for my parents in a couple of days.”

“I would offer to go with you, but I have the feeling you two work pretty well as a team.”

“We do. I have to try to find my parents before the Memory Charm becomes irreversible.”

They sat in silence as Harry took drags from his cigarette.

“What do you want to do now?” she asked, hopeful her friend would find an outlet for his power and his big heart.

“Don’t laugh, but I’m thinking about becoming a Healer.”

Resting her head on Harry’s shoulder, she smiled to herself. Who wouldn’t want the great Harry Potter to heal them?

“I think Healing will be a great use for your talents. Have you spoken to anyone at St. Mungo’s?”

They talked for a few minutes about Harry’s plan before Hermione made her way back to the Apparition point.

“I’m glad you found your way back to Malfoy.”

“That you accept him makes me love you even more,” Hermione said, hugging her comrade before making her way back to her parents’ home. “You’re going to be a brilliant Healer.”

Harry smiled with gratitude for his friend, the woman who’d stood by him all these years. He suspected Malfoy understood the type of brazen loyalty and love Hermione was willing to give. His gut told him these two would need each other in the months to come.

They landed in Melbourne, their Portkey taking them to a luxurious skyscraper hotel. Hermione had received ten thousand Galleons for her part in defeating Voldemort and she felt that it would be nice to have a bit of a vacation from the dreariness back home.

They grinned at each other upon seeing the beautiful hotel room overlooking the ocean. The crisp white bedding and neutral, calm walls provided a tranquil backdrop for the couple.

“The whole war, this was my daydream. Being with you in a faraway location, no one knowing who we are.”

Hermione nodded. “I can’t believe we’re here. I didn’t know if we’d ever have a chance.”

Draco pulled her onto his lap, in a playful way unlike his usual serious demeanor. She wrapped her arms around his neck and enjoyed the feel of his nose and lips nuzzling her neck. Between the two of them, Draco was more experienced and tended to lead, but Hermione was a quick study. During sixth year, they’d spent hours caressing, kissing, and stroking each other for pleasure, but also as a way to show they accepted and trusted each other. Since Hermione had joined Draco in his work, they’d slowly began to get comfortable with touching each other again, but it was always tentative and cautious.

Finding his lips, Hermione kissed him with passion, letting him know she wanted him as much as she hoped he wanted her. Her tongue stroked his, and she moaned when he bit her bottom lip. She began to unbutton his shirt as they devoured each other and exposed his lean chest. His skin was smooth under her fingers and when her fingers glided over his nipple, she felt his groin rock into her.

“Gods, Hermione,” he groaned, his lusty, hoarse voice an aphrodisiac in and of itself.

She stood and began to undress. He watched her with a predatory gleam in his eyes as she pulled off her jeans. Next came her scoop neck top, a snug shirt Draco had thought made her tits look perfect.

“I’ve missed this,” she said shyly.

He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her between his legs. “May I?” he said, fingering her bra strap. She smiled down at him.

Her small breasts were freed and bounced slightly in his face, the pink tips reacting to his attention. He licked a nipple, the little bud tightening when he sucked it into his mouth and rolled it with his tongue.

One hand trailed down to her knickers, the wetness from her core leaving the fabric damp. When she threw her head back and sighed, Draco pulled her onto the bed, urging her to lie before him. He shucked off his remaining clothing and pulled off her little black knickers.   The sight that met him almost made him come all over her. Her cunt was totally, utterly devoid of hair.

“Merlin,” he said in awe, pushing her legs apart and lowering his face to her smooth slit. He inhaled her musky perfume, remembering how she had been horrified the first time he had tried to kiss her there. By the end of that night, she had been bucking her pussy against his mouth in an effort to orgasm. Lucky for her, he loved to lick her quim and she had just made it that much easier for him to enjoy. He licked her at first with a gentle, steady pressure, letting her body get accustomed to his intimate touch.

“Oh, Gods, Draco, that feels good.”

His nose grazed her clit, making her gasp. He tongued her sensitive opening before focusing on the bundle of nerves at the top of her cleft. She loved when he would focus pressure at the top of her clitoris.

Her hands were in his hair, tightening on his scalp when he pulled himself up, crawling between her legs.

“I can’t wait any longer,” he said as he took his cock in his hand and guided it into her tightness.

Hermione pulled him into her arms and enjoyed the feeling of fullness as he pushed into her. Draco was well hung and she hadn’t been with anyone since the last time they were together over a year before. Her body accepted him, clenching around his erection. Her arms clung to him as he began to roll his hips into hers.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,” he murmured into her ear, before taking her lips with his own.

The kiss seemed to be the trigger that eased whatever lingering worries she had. She kissed him back and he swore he could feel her smiling. His thrusts were deep and slow and her hips met his, allowing the head of his penis to rub her g-spot.

“More?” he asked, watching her for signs of an impending orgasm.

“Please,” she groaned, grabbing his arse to help her move against him.

His thrusts became harder and faster and Hermione writhed under him, her moans and breathy exhalations spurring him on.

“Are you close?”

She nodded, biting her lip.

He angled his body to allow him to hit her clit on every stroke.

“Tell me when you’re going to come so we can come together.”

“I’m close, I’m close. Faster…oh, oh…yes, Draco, now!”

Her head thrown back and her lovely, pouty mouth emitting sounds of provocative utterances, Draco finally let himself go. His loud groan gave way to surprising, at least to Hermione, words of love and possession.

“Gods, Granger, you’re so fucking beautiful. Look at me, witch,” he said, his slate grey eyes boring into hers. She stared at him, lightly panting, as he continued to slowly thrust into her to prolong his orgasm. “Please tell me you know how much I love you.”

Still embedded in her body, he let his weight fall onto her as she held him. Sometimes it was easier to confess something to someone when it didn’t feel like they were looking right at your soul.

“I know you love me. It was easier to tell myself you were using me, but I always knew in my heart that wasn’t the case. I love you, too,” she confessed, her words tickling his ear. “Being away from you made the last year even harder than it already was.”

He pulled out of her, instantly missing the connection of their bodies. They faced each other, their heads cushioned on the pillow.

Draco had been allowed to keep his Malfoy family crest ring. It was one of very few items that displayed his heritage that he didn’t want to burn on sight. He slid the ring off his finger and found her hand, singling out her ring finger.

In a most serious voice, he began the ancient words to transfer the ring to his beloved. It was a practice the Malfoys had used to weed out the “impure” and the family ring would only adapt to those who had substantial magic. To his knowledge, this practice had been used as a threat to eliminate half-bloods and Muggle-born witches from his family, but he truly believed the intent of the practice was to only admit the strongest witches into the family, not the best bred. He didn’t think his ancestors had attempted to put this ring on any witch outside the Sacred Twenty-Eight.

“Pura luce tueri. Tueri per diem et noctem. Tueri defendant a nocentibus. Tueri negative navitas. Hoc non erit irritum. Sic fiat .”

Protect with light that is pure. Protect through day and night. Protect from harm. Protect from negative energy. This shield cannot be broken. So mote it be.*

“May I?” he asked, positioning the ring to be slid onto her finger. He knew her understanding of Latin was good enough to understand his intent.

She nodded and the smooth metal circle slid onto her finger, the ring quickly adjusting to her slender digit.

Hermione had read about these pure-blood rituals when Fleur and Bill had been preparing for their wedding and knew she had to accept his offer before the protective family magic would recognize her. Her Latin wasn’t as good as Draco’s, but she remembered the lovely words and attempted to stutter through them.

“Genus Fata benedictus cor meum, genus fatum benedixit dilectione mea, et humili corde gratias, deae gratias pro anima mea, deae gratias pro dilectione mea, beneficiis gratias dea iam abire. Alica excipiatur, ita fiat.”

The kind fates have blessed my heart, the kind fate has blessed my love, I offer thanks with a humble heart, I thank the Goddess for my life, I thank the Goddess for my love, I thank the goddess for blessings already on their way. The spell is cast, so mote it be.**

But the words flowed from her, some ancient magic allowing her to accept his offer as gracefully as he had given his words of protection. The ring glowed for a moment and then became the Malfoy family ring once more, only smaller to fit her finger.

The enormity of what they had just done hit them at the same time, but instead of being worried that they had acted rashly, they both felt a huge sense of relief.

“We really can be together,” Hermione said in awe.

Draco face lit up as he looked at his ring on her finger. “I don’t want to be away from you ever again. I know I don’t have much to offer you, but I’ll do what I can to make you happy to be with me.”

And somehow she knew he would make good on his promise.

Seven Year Later

“Hermione, are you ready?” Draco asked, attempting to adjust a small, golden haired boy and a bag of supplies on his arm.

“Almost,” she called back.

“Huwwy, Mummy!” the little boy, Orion, called out.

The boy and his father turned to look at Hermione as she walked into the room, her Healer robes identifying her as a member of the Spells Damage Ward.

“Are you ready to see Nana?” Hermione said to her son, pressing a kiss to the baby’s chubby cheek and then catching her husband’s lips in a quick kiss.

“Love Nana,” Orion said with a sweet grin.

The couple and their child took the Floo to Malfoy Manor. Narcissa was ready to take Orion as soon as they got through the large fireplace.

“Did you two eat? The elves made a wonderful frittata this morning.” Narcissa said to her son and daughter-in-law.

Draco smiled at his mother, always amazed at her ability to adapt to her life as it currently stood. She’d spent her house arrest making the dark, war-torn manor livable and safe. But her biggest, and most therapeutic, task was writing a book about the experience of living under the thumb of a true despot. Some of what she’d written Draco had known, but much he did not. He was amazed to find out some of the things his mother had had to do to keep others safe.

“Thank you, but we did eat,” Hermione said to Narcissa. “My parents will be here next week and my mum wanted you to join us for a bit of shopping.”

After Draco and Hermione had found Monica and Wendell Wilkins and their daughter had returned their memories, the Grangers were hesitant to return to England. But they had invited their daughter and her intended to stay with them and recuperate in Australia while they studied for their N.E.W.T.s. The young couple, needing to get away from the memories of the war, accepted their offer. The Grangers hadn’t known what to expect from Draco Malfoy, but they grew to love him like a son. He was respectful, intellectual, and curious about the unknown Muggle world Hermione’s family inhabited. When Hermione and Draco had gone back to England, her parents had gifted her their house, where the young family currently lived in the suburbs of London.

“Tell her I’d love to,” Narcissa said warmly to the woman she’d come to care for over the past seven years.

Draco kissed the crown of his mother’s head. “We have to go, Mother. Our shifts begin in a few minutes.”

“I have a stack of new books waiting for Orion,” Narcissa said, scooping up her grandson as they waved goodbye to his parents.

The couple stepped through the Floo to St. Mungo’s. With all his experience preparing the dead, Draco understood how to heal a body from the most violent of injuries. He’d quickly been identified as a candidate for Magical Surgery. His patience, attention to detail, and excellent bedside manner contributed to his success.

As they walked to their shared office, Hermione reminded her husband that Harry wanted to schedule a game of Quidditch.

“Is he working today?”

“I think he has a double shift in the Emergency Room.”

Draco laughed. “Always the hero.”

Hermione wrapped an arm around her husband’s waist. “Come find me if you have time for lunch.”

They instinctively met in a kiss before parting ways.

“I will,” Draco promised, and watched Hermione make her way to the elevator.

The voice in his head, who sounded suspiciously like Severus Snape, praised his godson for the life he’d chosen for himself.

“This life you live with the witch you love, it’s what I fought for.”

“I know, Godfather. I am forever grateful for your sacrifice.”

“It was worth it.”

From the beyond, Severus Snape confirmed what Draco knew to be true. For everything he had lost, Draco had gained ten-fold in return.

*Borrowed from http://wakeup.unhypnotize.com/protection-chants-protection-spells/.

**Borrowed from http://wiccanspells.info/love-spells/a-spell-to-maintain-unconditional-love/.
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The Funeral