DISCLAIMER: I own diddly-squat.
(A/N) My second ever songfic. The song was just too perfect. No Doubt is one of my favorite bands, and I love this song. Please review and tell me what you think.
Suspension Without Suspense
"She was something that couldn't be put into words," Albus Dumbledore finished quietly. "Hermione Granger, you will be missed." He stepped away, and laid a hand lightly against the casket. Standing by a flower arrangement, Minerva McGonagall let the tears pour down her face. Next to her, both of the Grangers were holding onto each other, clad entirely in black.
Only one in the funeral party was not crying. Ron Weasley stood, staring silently. He seemed beyond tears. From far away, leaning against a tree, Harry Potter watched. As he did, Ron looked up. Their eyes met, and Ron's gaze held incredible hatred. Harry looked away.
/My divorce from dependence
That's when you found me
I was still soft
And we always were in trouble
Odds stacked against us
And trouble's what we are/
They had met almost seven years ago, with the simple question "Can I sit here?" And they had been best friends after that, for forever and beyond. Hermione had joined the group not long after, and it had been the three of them, getting in trouble, and saving the world against all odds. Harry remembered a conversation they had had one day, back in their fifth year.
***
"You two are going to be in so much trouble!" Hermione had fumed, slamming a book shut. "I can't believe you actually did that! I mean, I knew you were talking about it, but really!"
"Oh, come on, Hermione," Harry had protested. "Malfoy looked better as a toad than a person, anyway."
"Yeah, and you were the one who turned him bright pink, afterwards, too," Ron pointed out with a grin.
Hermione looked sheepish. "I didn't say it wasn't funny," she said, as Ron grinned broader. He leaned over and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. "Besides, you two have corrupted me!"
"Does that mean you'll start taking points away from Slytherin for no reason?"
"Not a chance."
***
/We get so far
And then it just starts rewinding
And the same old song
We're playing it again
Suspension without suspense/
Harry slipped his hands into his pockets as the casket began to be lowered into the ground. Hermione was being buried in one of her favorite spots; at the foot of a willow tree by the lake at Hogwarts. She had always loved willow trees. Lavender had once told Harry that every spring, she would break off a few branches of leaves, and put them in a vase by her bed. Lavender and Parvati had hated this habit, they said the branches were ugly. But for some reason, Hermione had loved them.
/Now that I've murdered your inspiration
And I've forced you off
Do you hate me?
Do you want revenge?
I want to call you
But I won't/
The funeral party began to break up. After a few minutes, Ron was the only one left at the grave. From out of nowhere, he conjured up a single white rose. Quietly, he laid it on the freshly dug earth, then leaned down, and kissed the gravestone. His head bowed, he walked away from the grave. He didn't notice Harry until the latter held out a hand to keep Ron from bumping into him.
"What do you want?" Ron snarled.
"Hermione back," Harry answered sadly. "And for you not to hate me. For everything to be like it was."
"Well, it can't be," Ron spat. "Because you killed her!" Harry hung his head.
***
"He's come!" Harry had cried, running down the corridor. Ron and Hermione had been walking in the opposite direction, chatting easily, their clasped hands swinging backwards and forwards. Hermione's hand had a new ring on it. A ring Harry had seen many times as Ron knelt on the dormitory floor, holding the ring, trying to practice what to say. As they heard him running towards them, their books dropped and their faces set. They knew exactly what Harry meant by 'him'. "Come on! We have to get to the History of Magic classroom!" He raced pst them, and without a thought, they turned and followed him. Harry felt a pang of guilt, wondering what on Earth he was leading them into, wondering if they'd all make it out again. But he kept running.
They turned into the dark doorway, and stopped short. Dumbledore was waiting there. Breathing hard, the trio looked at each other, then at Dumbledore. He looked every minute of his hundred and fifty years.
/We get so far
And then it just starts rewinding
And the same old song
We're playing it again
Suspension without suspense/
"You know what is happening, and what you have to do." Harry nodded, trying his best to look brave. Dumbledore held out something. Light flashed off of it, and in the darkness, Harry realized that it was the sword of Gryffindor, the weapon he had pulled out of the sorting hat in his second year. Lying on the blade was a small vial of a potion. "This is all I can give you. Trust in it. I hope it proves useful." Harry took the sword, and gave the potion to Hermione. "The potion is Elixir of Life." Harry started, and Dumbledore smiled sadly. "Before the Philosopher's Stone was destroyed, one dose of Elixir was saved, against such a time. Use it well."
Harry nodded once, slowly. Dumbledore watched him with sorrow in his eyes. "I am sad that it has come to this. I can help you no further, Harry. Voldemort is waiting for you in the chamber where the Philosopher's Stone was kept in your first year. He knows that your friends and their love for you give you strength, and he does not want them anywhere near you when you meet him." He turned to Ron and Hermione. "You are the roadblocks on his way to killing Harry. You are in as much danger as he is. Be careful." Ron nodded firmly, and intertwined his hand with Hermione's. "Go now."
/Oh, the pessimistic protection plan
Moderation loving
I've been hardened by the circumstance
We knew this was coming/
The three friends raced down the hallway, Hermione pocketing the potion. They reached the door, and Harry turned. Quickly, he echoed the same words he had said in his first year, in the same place. "You can turn back now if you want. I won't think worse of you if you do."
Of course, their answer was the same. "Harry, you're an idiot if you think we'll leave you alone to this," Hermione said sharply. "We're coming in." Ron nodded, and his grip on Hermione's hand tightened until both their knuckles turned white. With a breath, Harry opened the door.
Inside, Voldemort's twisted sense of humor showed itself. He had created barriers, enchantments, in each room, like there had been in their first year. And in a horrible reenactment of the events of that year, Ron had been disabled. After a moment's discussion, Harry and Hermione had cast a quick protection spell on him and left him in a safe place. But going on without him felt to Harry as though he had left a piece of himself behind.
/We get so far
And then it just starts rewinding
And the same old song
We're playing it again
Suspension without suspense/
They were at the doorway to the last room. Silently, Hermione handed Harry the tiny bottle of potion. "Drink it," she commanded when he hesitated. "It might give you extra protection."
Harry shook his head. "We'll use it when we need it." Her lips tightened, but she nodded.
Voldemort was waiting for them alone. Together, Harry and Hermione stood and faced the man who had once been Tom Riddle.
He wasted no time now. "AVADA KEDAVRA!" he screamed, as soon as he saw Harry.
"STUPIFY!" came a call, and a blazing light shot by as the Dark Lord dodged out of the way. Hermione had managed to work her way behind him, and tried to stun him.
"EXPELLIARMUS!" Harry shouted, and Voldemort spun and blocked the spell with a deft flick of the wrist.
The Dark Lord tossed his own spell back. "CRUCIO!" Harry couldn't block it. "So," Voldemort said, as he stood over Harry and casually removed the curse, "you think that there is a chance you could beat me. A true Gryffindor, optimism in the face of inevitability."
Harry pulled himself upright, and the he stood, watching the killer of so many people. "It is time to end this, Potter," Voldemort sneered. "Avada Kedavra." Trusting in the power of the sword in his hand, Harry swung it up, and around, and to meet the curse. The curse bounced off it, and back at Voldemort. He dodged. And the curse hit Hermione, still standing behind him. She crumpled to the ground
"Oh my God... Hermione..." Harry croaked. He moved over to her still form and sank to his knees. He fumbled in her pockets for the tiny vial of potion. Uncorking it, he brought it to her mouth and poured it in. "Please... please..." He pulled her sleeve up and tried to find her pulse. There was nothing. He put a hand over her face, hoping to feel her breath on his hand. "Oh my God... no..."
Voldemort looked almost as shocked as Harry did, although he didn't seem the least bit upset. "You see, Harry? She died, because of you. It was your fault. Now pay your penance and die." He raised his wand. "Avad-"
Harry rolled to the side just as the curse hit the spot where he had been standing. But he moved like he was in a dream. Hermione was dead, because of him. It was all his fault.
But he had to do it, still. He had to keep going. He straightened himself, and pointed his wand at Voldemort. "Avada Kedavra," Harry whispered, mustering all his resolve and shooting the curse out. The expression on Voldemort's face was laughable. He obviously had not expected Harry to use any of the Unforgivable Curses, even now. The expression of surprise and horror stayed on his face as the green light surrounded him and he fell.
Harry stood alone in the middle of the room, as he put his face in his hands and wept.
***
"I did kill her," Harry whispered. "I know I did. And nothing, now or ever, can make up for that."
"You're right," Ron said sorrowfully. "You never can." He bowed his head, and the two former friends moved away from each other.
/We get so far
And then it just starts rewinding
And the same old song
We're playing it again and again
Suspension without suspense
Intentions without intent/
"Goodbye, Hermione."
/But I don't want the love we have to end/
(A/N) Please review and tell me what you thought.
(A/N) My second ever songfic. The song was just too perfect. No Doubt is one of my favorite bands, and I love this song. Please review and tell me what you think.
Suspension Without Suspense
"She was something that couldn't be put into words," Albus Dumbledore finished quietly. "Hermione Granger, you will be missed." He stepped away, and laid a hand lightly against the casket. Standing by a flower arrangement, Minerva McGonagall let the tears pour down her face. Next to her, both of the Grangers were holding onto each other, clad entirely in black.
Only one in the funeral party was not crying. Ron Weasley stood, staring silently. He seemed beyond tears. From far away, leaning against a tree, Harry Potter watched. As he did, Ron looked up. Their eyes met, and Ron's gaze held incredible hatred. Harry looked away.
/My divorce from dependence
That's when you found me
I was still soft
And we always were in trouble
Odds stacked against us
And trouble's what we are/
They had met almost seven years ago, with the simple question "Can I sit here?" And they had been best friends after that, for forever and beyond. Hermione had joined the group not long after, and it had been the three of them, getting in trouble, and saving the world against all odds. Harry remembered a conversation they had had one day, back in their fifth year.
***
"You two are going to be in so much trouble!" Hermione had fumed, slamming a book shut. "I can't believe you actually did that! I mean, I knew you were talking about it, but really!"
"Oh, come on, Hermione," Harry had protested. "Malfoy looked better as a toad than a person, anyway."
"Yeah, and you were the one who turned him bright pink, afterwards, too," Ron pointed out with a grin.
Hermione looked sheepish. "I didn't say it wasn't funny," she said, as Ron grinned broader. He leaned over and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. "Besides, you two have corrupted me!"
"Does that mean you'll start taking points away from Slytherin for no reason?"
"Not a chance."
***
/We get so far
And then it just starts rewinding
And the same old song
We're playing it again
Suspension without suspense/
Harry slipped his hands into his pockets as the casket began to be lowered into the ground. Hermione was being buried in one of her favorite spots; at the foot of a willow tree by the lake at Hogwarts. She had always loved willow trees. Lavender had once told Harry that every spring, she would break off a few branches of leaves, and put them in a vase by her bed. Lavender and Parvati had hated this habit, they said the branches were ugly. But for some reason, Hermione had loved them.
/Now that I've murdered your inspiration
And I've forced you off
Do you hate me?
Do you want revenge?
I want to call you
But I won't/
The funeral party began to break up. After a few minutes, Ron was the only one left at the grave. From out of nowhere, he conjured up a single white rose. Quietly, he laid it on the freshly dug earth, then leaned down, and kissed the gravestone. His head bowed, he walked away from the grave. He didn't notice Harry until the latter held out a hand to keep Ron from bumping into him.
"What do you want?" Ron snarled.
"Hermione back," Harry answered sadly. "And for you not to hate me. For everything to be like it was."
"Well, it can't be," Ron spat. "Because you killed her!" Harry hung his head.
***
"He's come!" Harry had cried, running down the corridor. Ron and Hermione had been walking in the opposite direction, chatting easily, their clasped hands swinging backwards and forwards. Hermione's hand had a new ring on it. A ring Harry had seen many times as Ron knelt on the dormitory floor, holding the ring, trying to practice what to say. As they heard him running towards them, their books dropped and their faces set. They knew exactly what Harry meant by 'him'. "Come on! We have to get to the History of Magic classroom!" He raced pst them, and without a thought, they turned and followed him. Harry felt a pang of guilt, wondering what on Earth he was leading them into, wondering if they'd all make it out again. But he kept running.
They turned into the dark doorway, and stopped short. Dumbledore was waiting there. Breathing hard, the trio looked at each other, then at Dumbledore. He looked every minute of his hundred and fifty years.
/We get so far
And then it just starts rewinding
And the same old song
We're playing it again
Suspension without suspense/
"You know what is happening, and what you have to do." Harry nodded, trying his best to look brave. Dumbledore held out something. Light flashed off of it, and in the darkness, Harry realized that it was the sword of Gryffindor, the weapon he had pulled out of the sorting hat in his second year. Lying on the blade was a small vial of a potion. "This is all I can give you. Trust in it. I hope it proves useful." Harry took the sword, and gave the potion to Hermione. "The potion is Elixir of Life." Harry started, and Dumbledore smiled sadly. "Before the Philosopher's Stone was destroyed, one dose of Elixir was saved, against such a time. Use it well."
Harry nodded once, slowly. Dumbledore watched him with sorrow in his eyes. "I am sad that it has come to this. I can help you no further, Harry. Voldemort is waiting for you in the chamber where the Philosopher's Stone was kept in your first year. He knows that your friends and their love for you give you strength, and he does not want them anywhere near you when you meet him." He turned to Ron and Hermione. "You are the roadblocks on his way to killing Harry. You are in as much danger as he is. Be careful." Ron nodded firmly, and intertwined his hand with Hermione's. "Go now."
/Oh, the pessimistic protection plan
Moderation loving
I've been hardened by the circumstance
We knew this was coming/
The three friends raced down the hallway, Hermione pocketing the potion. They reached the door, and Harry turned. Quickly, he echoed the same words he had said in his first year, in the same place. "You can turn back now if you want. I won't think worse of you if you do."
Of course, their answer was the same. "Harry, you're an idiot if you think we'll leave you alone to this," Hermione said sharply. "We're coming in." Ron nodded, and his grip on Hermione's hand tightened until both their knuckles turned white. With a breath, Harry opened the door.
Inside, Voldemort's twisted sense of humor showed itself. He had created barriers, enchantments, in each room, like there had been in their first year. And in a horrible reenactment of the events of that year, Ron had been disabled. After a moment's discussion, Harry and Hermione had cast a quick protection spell on him and left him in a safe place. But going on without him felt to Harry as though he had left a piece of himself behind.
/We get so far
And then it just starts rewinding
And the same old song
We're playing it again
Suspension without suspense/
They were at the doorway to the last room. Silently, Hermione handed Harry the tiny bottle of potion. "Drink it," she commanded when he hesitated. "It might give you extra protection."
Harry shook his head. "We'll use it when we need it." Her lips tightened, but she nodded.
Voldemort was waiting for them alone. Together, Harry and Hermione stood and faced the man who had once been Tom Riddle.
He wasted no time now. "AVADA KEDAVRA!" he screamed, as soon as he saw Harry.
"STUPIFY!" came a call, and a blazing light shot by as the Dark Lord dodged out of the way. Hermione had managed to work her way behind him, and tried to stun him.
"EXPELLIARMUS!" Harry shouted, and Voldemort spun and blocked the spell with a deft flick of the wrist.
The Dark Lord tossed his own spell back. "CRUCIO!" Harry couldn't block it. "So," Voldemort said, as he stood over Harry and casually removed the curse, "you think that there is a chance you could beat me. A true Gryffindor, optimism in the face of inevitability."
Harry pulled himself upright, and the he stood, watching the killer of so many people. "It is time to end this, Potter," Voldemort sneered. "Avada Kedavra." Trusting in the power of the sword in his hand, Harry swung it up, and around, and to meet the curse. The curse bounced off it, and back at Voldemort. He dodged. And the curse hit Hermione, still standing behind him. She crumpled to the ground
"Oh my God... Hermione..." Harry croaked. He moved over to her still form and sank to his knees. He fumbled in her pockets for the tiny vial of potion. Uncorking it, he brought it to her mouth and poured it in. "Please... please..." He pulled her sleeve up and tried to find her pulse. There was nothing. He put a hand over her face, hoping to feel her breath on his hand. "Oh my God... no..."
Voldemort looked almost as shocked as Harry did, although he didn't seem the least bit upset. "You see, Harry? She died, because of you. It was your fault. Now pay your penance and die." He raised his wand. "Avad-"
Harry rolled to the side just as the curse hit the spot where he had been standing. But he moved like he was in a dream. Hermione was dead, because of him. It was all his fault.
But he had to do it, still. He had to keep going. He straightened himself, and pointed his wand at Voldemort. "Avada Kedavra," Harry whispered, mustering all his resolve and shooting the curse out. The expression on Voldemort's face was laughable. He obviously had not expected Harry to use any of the Unforgivable Curses, even now. The expression of surprise and horror stayed on his face as the green light surrounded him and he fell.
Harry stood alone in the middle of the room, as he put his face in his hands and wept.
***
"I did kill her," Harry whispered. "I know I did. And nothing, now or ever, can make up for that."
"You're right," Ron said sorrowfully. "You never can." He bowed his head, and the two former friends moved away from each other.
/We get so far
And then it just starts rewinding
And the same old song
We're playing it again and again
Suspension without suspense
Intentions without intent/
"Goodbye, Hermione."
/But I don't want the love we have to end/
(A/N) Please review and tell me what you thought.