Disclaimer: Yes, it's still JKR's.
Author's Notes: Some elements are from a Hungarian ballad, 'Mistress Agnes' by Arany János.
Thanks for my beta, DreamShadows!
Originally written for grangersnape100 'Stain' challenge.
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Hermione kneeled at the side of the river; in her hands a white, wet robe. Her hair was messy as ever, and she was wide-eyed, her lips trembling a little.
She didn't even try to wipe away her tears.
She was scrubbing the robe, scrubbing, and scrubbing and scrubbing. She couldn't tear her gaze away from a non-existent point on the fabric.
"Hermione," – Harry called softly. – "That robe is clean. You can leave it now."
"No, no, no, I have to… I have to wash it out, don't you see? It's still bloodstained. If I could only wash it out… then he will be alive. I know. Time will turn back, and he will be saved."
Harry gently touched her shoulders.
"There was nothing, really nothing else you could have done. You did the right thing, Hermione, you had to kill him."
But Hermione didn't hear him, she was muttering to herself.
"I'll wash it out, just a minute, and then I will go back, yes, go back in time, and I'll tell him… He will come over to our side, and we will be together forever…" - She continued to wash the clean robe.
Harry sadly turned away, and left.
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A/N: Don't hold back your reviews, it's bad for your health!