THE FIRST OF JANUARY, THE YEAR 2020

It's a rainy day, there's not a spot of sunlight in sight. That's what one would expect at a funeral or such a sad day like this one.

Yet Violet doesn't notice the rain because she believes the puddle on the grass at her feet is from the tears streaming down her pale face.

Her hand is entangled in her husbands as they stand side by side; for the first time they touch affectionately instead of touching every time they're pushing each other away.

As one would, they're both dressed in all black, not a drop of color on them besides their bright colored eyes or the wedding bands on their fingers. But even then, the black sunglasses on their face are blocking anyone from seeing their colored eyes. Or even more specifically, the pain in their eyes.

Violet had no motive or energy to put on any makeup today, she didn't need to. She knew that she would never stop crying so there was no use in adding anything to her face when her tears would wash it away.

So instead, she slipped on a black - long sleeved - dress that stops below her knees and a pair of black heels. Her hair is straightened down behind her, so long it reaches her lower back. Her hand is gripping her husbands so tightly that she can feel the wedding band on his finger sinking into her delicate skin.

He's holding a black umbrella above their heads, big enough for both since they're so close to each other. In heels she's almost the same height as him but right now her head is on his shoulder, her eyes down at the ground to avoid staring at the cherry wood casket in the middle of the crowd.

She refused to walk up to it during the ceremony and hour ago. Her heart didn't want her to see the man that lied inside, cold and lifeless. A man who couldn't say goodbye back.

The man inside who used to carry her in his arms when she was sad and sang her back to sleep at night when she had nightmares. The man who taught her how to read, how to ride a broom and how to put love over anything. The man who told her it would all be alright when he put Band-Aids over her cuts and scrapes.

Her father.

One second, he was fine - the Minister of Magic himself - and the next Violet was getting a phone call in the middle of the night. A call from St Mungo's, saying her father had passed away in his sleep from cancer that he's been battling since he became Minister of Magic.

It was then when it hit her that the secret Draco and Theo were keeping from her was that her father was sick. That he grew a beard because he wanted to see how he looked with one before he wasn't able to grow hair again.

He was trying to tell her in his own way and she didn't listen. Instead, the last thing she said to him was something along the lines of 'I hope I never see you again'. And so, she didn't see him again and now she never will.

She will never get the chance to apologize about what she said; she thought he was forcing the marriage onto her but he just wanted to leave, knowing she was in a stable situation with a good man.

"You may now say your goodbyes." the priest blessed the casket and made way, parting so everyone can have a chance to surround to say farewell to Carl Blishen.

"You should go Violet." Thomas finally lets go of her hand, letting hers feel naked without his wrapped around it. "Say your goodbyes, I will wait in my car."

His car. Hers is parked just behind it because Merlin forbid, they sit next to each other.

Thomas begins to leave, leaving the umbrella to float above Violet but she's quick to snap her pale hand around his wrist.

Such a simple thing to do yet such a large thing for them and their hateful marriage.

Her touch around his wrists ignites a spark in his body and he turns back, taking off his glasses to look at her and his eyes to be visible to his wife.

"I want to go home." she replies lowly, squeezing his wrist for comfort. "Please take me home Thomas."

Her eyebrows furrow above her dark sunglasses, a visible crease on her porcelain skin. Even through her dark black shades, he can see the pain in her eyes. The tears dropping down her slim cheeks and the way her chin quivers in pain. Her hand still tightly wrapped around his wrist, secretly asking for a hug but he doesn't do it because they never hug.

They never hold hands until today, they never sleep in the same bed or sit together in the same car.

Yet for some odd reason, she's touching him right now, aching to not ever let go. He's confused and yet hopeful of what this means. If this attitude of hers towards him will continue after today.

If she'll find a way to love him.

If he'll find a way to love her.

"Please?" she asks again, this time in a pleading tone.

He swallows nervously, wrapping his hand around the wrist of the hand that's holding his. It's another spark that goes through him and yet she seems so calm yet so shattered.

"Of course -" he clears his throat as he puts his glasses back on and takes a hold of the umbrella, covering his soaking body along with her dry one. "- Let's go to the car."

Violet takes one last look at the casket that's covered in red roses.

This will be the last time she ever sees it, her last official goodbye. But even though she knows that, she can't bare to utter a word to a lifeless version of her father. She refuses to say goodbye because she can't accept that he's gone.

Her father is actually gone.

So, instead Violet slides her cold hand down Thomas' sleeve until she reaches his large hand, intertwining her fingers with his.

She can hear the shutters of cameras behind them, snapping pictures of the new Minister of Magic with her husband. Such a rare sighting to seem them together but now they have pictures that will probably be printed into dozens of newspapers.

Such a heartless thing to do at a funeral.

Thomas turns around and lowers his glasses to give the paparazzi a dirty look. Almost immediately causing them to back off and disapparate. The last thing they need is to mess with an Auror whose wife is the Minister of Magic. A position passed down to her by her father when he past away last week.

She doesn't know how to deal with it all. Her fathers death, her new job position, the media. The responsibility is too much for a twenty-year-old to handle.

And still, she has to do something with Blishen Manor which was passed down to her as well. She can't keep it, there are too many memories and she doesn't need it because she has a home. Of course, her home carries too many memories as well but none of someone who has passed away.

As they reach Thomas' car, he's quick to open the door for her with his wand before they're even near the door. He moves the umbrella with her body as she lowers her head to get into the car with the red leather interior. She sinks into the chair, keeping her sunglasses on while Thomas enters the drivers seat on her right.

They've let go of each other's hands but hers is sitting on the storage box cushion between both of their seats. She's hoping he'll notice and take her hand but he moves it aside to toss his sunglasses into the box.

It made her heart shatter - if it's even possible for it to shatter more - and she turned her knees away from him.

Her head fell softly against the foggy window that's blinded by droplets of rain water from the outside. Tears are dropping faster down her cheeks and she can't breathe at this point. She has feelings she hasn't let out and they're causing her to hyperventilating in quiet sobs and gasps.

Thomas has both hands on the wheel and his eyes on the road but his attention is on the sobbing woman in the seat next to him.

His broken wife.

Her breath is patchy and her sobs are quiet yet so heartbreakingly loud in his ears. She has her arms wrapped around her small torso as her tears drop onto her lap, creating a wet patch on her black dress.

He doesn't hesitate to move his left hand off the wheel and reach for her delicate hand that's curled on her lap. Her hand relaxes when his touch slides across her skin, taking her hand into his own lap and holding it tightly.

Even now she doesn't turn, she stays with her gaze out the foggy window her head is on, with her arm stretched to her right. Her breath calms down, returning to a normal pace and tone as Thomas brushes his thumb softly on the back of her hand.

He's comforting her.

Almost a year of marriage and they've never held each other the way they are now. They've never comforted one another nor spoken more than two words to each other. And today they've broken all those rules.

They're touching, speaking, being seen together and they don't care.

Violet sniffles quietly and closes her eyes to avoid being awake to cry during this long drive back home. She doesn't want to feel this pain and if sleeping through most of the days to come is what will help her than that's what she'll do.

Her hand that's wrapped with Thomas' relaxes more and he turns to notice her body has relaxed to. She's fallen asleep.

He's never seen her sleep.