hi this is my first fanfic, so be nice lol! i might not update that often because i have exams coming up...i just want to reassure you that this will be a lengthy fanfic, this is the only chapter that ive written fully...ive made drafts for the next 4 chapters...i wasn't really sure about posting this story until i had written more chapters, oh well i'l let you judge now. let me know what you think of this chapter.k il stop rambling on now, enjoy:)
Chapter One- Intro…: hope had diminished
Summer has come and passed
The innocent can never last
wake me up when September ends
like my fathers come to pass
seven years has gone so fast
wake me up when September ends
here comes the rain again
falling from the stars
drenched in my pain again
becoming who we are
as my memory rests
but never forgets what I lost
wake me up when September ends
"Wake Me Up When September Ends"- Green Day
The sun was slowly sinking into the faraway horizon, drenching the world in an almost ethereal glow. The sunset illuminated the wet pavement and pathway surrounding her, the glittering raindrops representing the many tears shed today of all days. Through the sheer numbness surrounding her physical and mental being, she remembers duly how the sky's has opened up and released their tears, as a form of morning and acknowledgement towards the man who laid in the thick, dark, cherry wood casket being lowered into the deep, muddy earth .She hardly knew where this brave façade and mask of grim indifference worn on her face came from, however despite her calm and well drawn appearance, inside of her was a completely different story.
Inside her heart wept at the unjust hand the fates had dealt her, she was consumed with grief toward the sudden and unexpected loss, her heart literally ached as she realised that she would never see him again, this man…her father, the one constant in her life, her hero who she had always thought would live forever, he wouldn't ever see her graduate, he would never get to give her away at the alter. She silently berated herself as she hastily wiped away the few tears that had managed to escape… keep a hold of yourself Hermione… you have to be strong…you have to keep going, over and over she repeated to herself like a mantra, it aided in slowing her fast beating heart, yet it did nothing to ease the pain in her chest and the sense of not being able of breathe fully.
Now back at her home, she silently gazed around the lounge, her mother sitting poised, clothes immaculately ironed, sitting and talking…no she's sitting and nodding yet her eyes show that she is not processing a single word Mrs Weasley is saying. Her mother's eyes dart around the room, as if she is trying to locate something…or more precisely someone. The grandfather clock in the hallway chimes, its 7pm. She unconsciously looks toward the front door, almost as if expecting to hear the rattling of the key at the front door and her father to walk through from a meeting with the partners of the dental practice her parents had a share in. However 7o'clock comes and goes, but he never comes. The amount of people in the house has thinned considerably, there's most of the members of the Order still present; Remus looking more worn and old beyond his years, Tonks whose morphed her hair to be black to match her all black ensemble, there's Mr Weasley who is walking around the house taking in the delights the muggle world has to offer, she wonders if she should warn him not to stick his hand in one of the slots of the toaster. Her gaze moves along, there are few muggles, some of her fathers work colleagues, her neighbours ,an odd relative here and there.
A hand on her shoulder brings her out of her reverie, she turns around to see Harry, Ron and Ginny standing there, all wearing an expression of grim sadness and of resignation; this is not the first death to be felt as a personal blow toward the young Gryffindors in the past few weeks, indeed as she silently mused…its nearly 2 months since the death of Dumbledore, how did I manage to think that that day would be the end of my world, when Dumbledore's death left but a small dent on my heart…but this…its consumed me whole, made me numb and unfeeling, made me incapable of offering reassurances to my mother for fear of becoming undone and never being able to control the raging emotions which beat in my mind with ever heartbeat…She speared a glance towards her mother, where she sat the deepened lines around her eyes, the tightness around her mouth and the horrifyingly bushy mane of curls so like her own, informing her silently that her mother was a wreck. But what can I do, she thought with hollow bitterness…how I can comfort her when I can't even comfort myself.
'…Mione…' The gentle voice of Ginny brought her attention back to the three in front of her. Ginny looked distraught and upset. Ron was fidgeting and scuffing his foot against the thick cream carpet, and Harry, his eyes, sparkling emeralds glistening with unshed tears and swimming with a welter of emotions so like her own.'Mione, I don't really know what to say or do, none of us do really…but we want you to know that we love you and that were here for you forever…'.Her mind drifted off…hmmm forever, such a seemingly innocent word, but nothing last forever nothing. she just caught the final words of Ginny's speech '…Mione, please don't keep all your emotions bottled up, let it out, no one expects to be fine after everything's that's happened, please promise us that you wont suffer in silence or alone, we are all here for you, we want to help you through this', at some point Ginny had grabbed hold of her hands, offering her some temporary warmth…c'mon mione and breathe , two three, four, don't lose control now… the days nearly finished, she though to herself. Her friends surrounded her and each gave her hugs and murmured words of assurance.
The remaining people in the house began to shuffle out so slowly it was becoming painful for her, all she wanted to do was to go up to her room and take the small phial which contained the dreamless draught potion, and with any luck she would be able to rest her mind and push all thoughts, memories and emotion to the back of her mind. As the last person, Mrs Blackstock of no.49 leaves while offering parting words of support and of apologies at all they have lost, her mother shuts the door soundlessly, she stay rooted to the spot for a good five minutes, not that she pays any attention, who would have though …for all the book smarts you claim to possess, your incapable of rationalising this situation, your incapable of finding the answers to the numerous questions buzzing through your mind, the voice inside her mind chuckled bitterly, today truly was an astonishing day; Hermione granger, bookworm, know-it-all extraordinaire doesn't know the answers.
A small whimper brings her out of her daze, she wasn't really aware where the noise had escaped her own lips or not, almost unconsciously her eyes drift to her mother, who's trembling slightly but is still standing in front of the door as she had previously been. 'Mum...', her own voice hoarse from lack of use in the previous days. Slowly her mother turns around, slightly startled at the fact that she is in the room. Now that everyone has left, her mothers cool façade slips away so quickly, that she wonders how her mother had managed to maintain it for this long. The pause hangs in the air resulting in them both looking and feeling weary, worn out and defeated. Then her mother asks 'why?..', the slight question that has haunted bother of them from the moment she received the phone call at 2pm in the afternoon on a gloomy tueday.They said that he had suffered a heart attack, the moment those words were heard, she had silently asked the question why?. Why him? Why now? And even now as her mother was standing in front of her with tears cascading off her cheeks, she couldn't come up with the answer to the question why.
Her mother turns away from her, her posture slumped, as though some invisible support was barely keeping her upright. She follows her mother up the stairs, never before has the house contained such an eerie, unpleasant and unwelcome silence. She stops short at her bedroom door, and murmurs a quite 'Goodnight mum', and then slips into the dark confines of her room, she doesn't bother with turning the light on. Silently shuffling to her bed, she sits on it, feeling the mattress dip under her weight, she reaches out to the bedside table and feels for the cool glass of the phial contains her only salvation for today. Uncorking it she swallows the whole dose in one go, before lying on top of the covers fully clothed, with her shoes on and welcomes the approaching darkness of sleep. Tomorrow she knows she will have to remember and deal with everything, tomorrow she knows that her feelings will surround her in a cruel, invisible membrane. But today she feels nothing apart from numbness, and as she struggles as sleep overcomes her, a single hopeful though enters her mind…maybe tomorrow will prove that this is a bad nightmare…hmm…maybe.