Disclaimer: So, I don't own Harry Potter, or any of its affiliated thingamajigs, and I have no claim to the brilliant Suzanne Vega's song 'The Queen & The Soldier". They all belong solely to their respective owners - how about that.
THE QUEEN & THE SOLDIER
The soldier came knocking upon the queen's door He said, "I've watched your palace up here on the hill
He said, "I am not fighting for you anymore"
The queen knew she'd seen his face someplace before
And slowly she let him inside.
And I've wondered who's the woman for whom we all kill
But I am leaving tomorrow and you can do what you will
Only first I am asking you why."
*
The Dark Lord's presence hung over the British Isles, a shadow that weighed heavily on the free peoples and those who fought to defeat him. Riddle had grown in power, and his followers increased daily, whether voluntarily or under pain of death it was unable to be determined. The Headquarters of the Light, the remnants of what had once been the glorified Order of the Phoenix, now occupied an abandoned manor house to the North of England, it's wards enhanced a hundred-fold by the talented and hardhearted witch who led the resistance.
A young man, whose face told tales of suffering and whose eyes had seen horror, walked through the corridor, barely making a noise as he followed the free house elf, his eyes determined and steely, to their leader's rooms.
He remembered her from school, this Queen of the Light; they had been students together and, although not close, they had always been courteous and aware of the others talents. A Ravenclaw and a Gryffindor held no rivalry, except upon the Quidditch Pitch, and those days, days filled with freedom and joy, were long forgotten.
*
Down the long narrow hall he was led He said, "I see you now, and you are so very young
Into her rooms with her tapestries red
And she never once took the crown from her head
She asked him there to sit down.
But I've seen more battles lost than I have battles won
And I've got this intuition, says it's all for your fun
And now will you tell me why?"
*
The Mistress of the free peoples sat demurely by the window, an old photograph with a worn line through the middle that indicated it had been open and closed many times was held limply in her hands.
"Boot, I was told to expect your presence." She murmured, gently touching a finger to the picture before folding it and placing it in the small, beaded bag that she never let out of her sight.
"Mistress." Terry Boot, ex-Ravenclaw, gave a short bow to the resistance leader. She looked regal, despite her worn clothing, and she didn't look him in the eye, preferring instead to gaze out the window at the stormy weather that hovered unrepentantly over the country side as it had since the Dark Lord's return to strength.
"I remember you in school – you always had such a quick mind." She spoke quietly, dreamily recalling memories, though the tiny hint of a smile was overshadowed by grief. "Rather admira-."
"We cannot go on like this." He phrased it bluntly, bringing them straight to the point as he interrupted her wistful speech.
"Like what?" She responded, icily, but he glimpsed the flash of despair that fell across her face, vanishing as quickly as it appeared. "We have no choice but to continue. We are dead if we are against him; we are dead if we surrender. At least we take them with us when we fight."
"Take them- You do not understand!" Terry cried angrily, glaring at the petite witch as he tried to calm himself.
"I have been on fourteen missions in the last year. When we began there were sixteen of us; now only three remain." His quiet voice was deadly, daring her to argue. "We are but one party. Others have not been so lucky."
She refused to look at him now, trying to convey a sense of indifference; it was for the Greater Good.
Terry continued; his tone dark.
"We lost thirteen soldiers," he emphasised the loss, and the pain he felt carried into his voice, "in exchange for four Death Eaters - four, Granger. There is no justification for that. How can you even try?"
Terry crossed the expanse to stand before her, his torn clothes sullied by blood and sweat. She kept her eyes averted.
"Do you remember any of them?" Boot questioned coldly, working hard to keep his own emotions at bay. "Dean? He was your fellow Gryffindor, Granger. Do you know how he died? How much he screamed when Greyback left him, mangled and bleeding, for the inferi to finish off?"
Her breaths were short and ragged, but he kept speaking, needing to get his point across.
"And Seamus. I had to hold him back – we couldn't lose another life like that – but he fought tooth and nail to stay behind – to kill every one of the Death Eaters who remained - even as we Apparated away.
"He was killed in the next mission, you know. He threw himself into the battle, recklessly searching for Greyback and destroying the surroundings," Terry swallowed the lump growing in his throat. "He never had a chance."
"Seamus, Dean, Ernie, Lupin, Tonks, Creevey, Justin," he bombarded her with names, "Neville, Hopkins, Chang, Lovegood…"
He paused.
"Ginny."
*
The young queen, she fixed him with an arrogant eye And she said, "I've swallowed a secret burning thread
She said, "You won't understand, and you may as well not try"
But her face was a child's, and he thought she would cry
But she closed herself up like a fan.
It cuts me inside, and often I've bled"
He laid his hand then on top of her head
And he bowed her down to the ground.
*
It had crushed her, he could tell, as soon as he'd spoken the Weaslette's name. He had filled it with blame and suffering, and his barb had hit the mark, piercing through the walls she had erected around herself, if only for a moment.
"You have no concept," Granger whispered in a deadly voice, her eyes hard, "no concept at all of how involved I am in this. No clue as to the pain I endure every single day." Her voice hitched, and she was clearly trying to keep tears from rolling down her cheeks.
"They were never supposed to die. It was a harmless ritual; we done it so many times before. But He felt the changes… and He-he…" She breathed. "Harry…Ron…I'm so sorry." She whispered brokenly, her eyes closed to stop the flow of tears that threatened to fall.
Terry didn't break the Mistress' silent show of grief, and he regretted it as she opened her eyes, composure back in place as she let her cold gaze fall upon him.
"Life does not believe in fair play, Boot. Secrets and consequences always arise, at the most inopportune of times." She said cryptically, standing in front of the tall soldier. "I am neither stranger to loss, nor to consequences."
Terry defied her imperious gaze and stepped closer, placing his large, calloused hand on her shoulder -she winced at the contact, her first with another being in years, and he thought she might cry – but he applied pressure, encouraging her to sit.
*
"Tell me how hungry are you? How weak you must feel And the sun, it was gold, though the sky, it was gray
As you are living here alone, and you are never revealed
But I won't march again on your battlefield"
And he took her to the window to see.
And she wanted more than she ever could say
But she knew how it frightened her, and she turned away
And would not look at his face again.
*
"I'm not one to say that you haven't suffered, Granger, but you play with our lives as if they were naught." Terry said quietly. "You stay, locked up in here, away from the dangers of war – and there is nothing you can do but wait to see what happens."
Her body was hunched, making her appear smaller than she already was, and as she turned to look out the window across the moor. The grey clouds parted, only for a moment, and the sun peered out before it was swallowed once again by the limitless grey.
Terry could see the internal battle she was clearly fighting; her eyes were troubled and she breathed in a deep, albeit shaky, breath before apparently coming to a conclusion to her conflict.
Her brown orbs evaded his blue eyes.
*
And he said, "I want to live as an honest man But the crown, it had fallen, and she thought she would break
To get all I deserve and to give all I can
And to love a young woman who I don't understand
Your highness, your ways are very strange."
And she stood there, ashamed of the way her heart ached
She took him to the doorstep and she asked him to wait
She would only be a moment inside.
*
"I cannot endure it anymore, Hermione." Her heart stopped for a millisecond at the use of her first name. "I need to be free of this hell-hole. There is nothing left here for me; nothing that can be mine, as I so wish it." He stared meaningfully at her, but she refused to meet his gaze.
"You intrigue me, Hermione. Intrigue, and frustrate me like no other person has ever done." Terry murmured, lifting a hand to gently graze two fingers over her cheek.
She looked so broken now, having finally let emotion reach her upon the contact between them. She had almost forgotten what it was like; to be touched, held, to be near another person with blood as warm as hers.
Standing, Hermione led Terry to the door, requesting he wait outside, and closing it softly when he complied. Alone again in her large rooms, Hermione retrieved her wand, running a finger fondly over the shaft; vine wood, with a core dragon heartstring.
"I'm sorry, Terry." She whispered sadly.
*
Out in the distance her order was heard
And the soldier was killed, still waiting for her word
And while the queen went on strangeling in the solitude she preferred
The battle continued on
______
*--sniffle.
I just adore this song. It has a bittersweet tendency to cause me to cry. I hope it pleases you, reader.