Blame it on the Black Star
Summary: Not long after the Second Wizarding War, Rodolphus Lestrange kills Harry to seek revenge for his deceased master, leaving his best friend to pick up the pieces. Based on the song "Black Star" by Radiohead.
Disclaimer: Black Star belongs to Radiohead, and all Harry Potter related things belong to J.K Rowling.
My favourite book series and probably my favourite band. I really hope I do both justice. I apologise for not updating Lilies & Snowflakes, but I'm struggling with a real lack of motivation for that story. Feel free to leave a review and enjoy it :) If you've never heard the song, give it a listen, it's beautiful.
I get home from work and you're still standing in your dressing gown
Well what am I to do?
I know all the things around your head and what they do to you,
What are we coming to?
What are we gonna do?
Blame it on the black star,
Blame it on the falling sky,
Blame it on the satellite that beams me home.
The troubled words of a troubled mind,
I try to understand what is eating you,
I try to stay awake but it's 58 hours
Since that I last slept with you.
What are we coming to?
I just don't know anymore.
Blame it on the black star,
Blame it on the falling sky,
Blame it on the satellite that beams me home.
I get on the train and I just stand about
Now that I don't think of you.
I keep falling over, I keep passing out
When I see a face like you
What am I coming to?
I'm gonna melt down.
Hermione Granger was lay on the bed, her long brown wavy hair spread out over her red pillow. She was looking at her most favourite picture of herself, her fiancée Ron, and of course their very best friend Harry Potter. It was taken three years ago, when they were in their sixth year of Hogwarts, and one of the only pictures of the three of them, looking so happy and carefree. It was taken at the lake on a warm April afternoon. You could just make out the Giant Squid splashing around to the right of them, and the outline of the castle behind them. They were laughing at some joke Ron had told, the three of them with flushed cheeks from laughing so hard.
A lot could change in a year and a half, Hermione noted, stroking picture Harry's face. A tear fell from her amber-brown eye. She missed him so much. Her very best friend, ever since they defeated that mountain troll when they were eleven. She loved him like a brother and they could tell each other anything, and now he was gone from the world forever.
Two years ago they'd fought in the Second Wizarding War. Her, Harry and Ron searched the country for horcruxes and destroyed them respectively, leading to the Great Battle of Hogwarts, where Harry had defeated the Dark Lord at the sheer age of seventeen. That was the happiest day of his life, of her own life too. Winning a battle like that was proof that their hard work had paid off. Of course, not long after that, her and Ron had started a relationship, as had Harry and Ginny, life was finally perfect for the four of them.
Harry was about to start Auror training, but the night before his course, it was his destiny to encounter danger; Rodolphus Lestrange sneaked into Harry's apartment to murder him in his sleep, a cowardly way of restoring justice for his recently deceased master. He'd made no secret of this, and was immediately placed back into Azkaban, sentenced to the Dementor's Kiss
Hermione gazed at the picture intently, at her almost-brother's beautiful emerald eyes, hidden behind his glasses, and his messy black hair that never lay flat was sticking out in its usual fashion. Ron looked like the carefree teenager Hermione had fallen in love with, nowadays his blue eyes were heavy with the sorrow of losing his older brother Fred, and of course his best friend, Harry. She looked at herself from the picture that was taken three years ago. She was merely a shadow of the girl she used to be- The bags under her eyes in the photo from too much late night reading were a far cry from the bags caused by her repeated nightmares- Bellatrix torturing her; Naming the dead body as Harry that awful night; The night Ron had left her and Harry in the Forest of Dean; her parents disowning her for tampering with their memories.
Hermione began to sob uncontrollably into the Gryffindor coloured pillow - red and gold. "Some Gryffindor you are," Hermione's inner voice whispered spitefully, "Gryffindors are supposed to be brave, strong and valiant, but you, Hermione Jean Granger are a mess! Get a grip already!"
The front door slammed shut, and Hermione took a deep breath and tried to regain control quickly, wiping her damp eyes on the arm of her soft pink dressing gown, and placing her beloved picture in its usual place besides her bed. She knew Ron was irritated by her grief, it was enough to see the annoyance flit across his eyes every time he came home to her in this state.
Ron walked up the stairs to find his fiancée in their bedroom. Her dark rimmed eyes were red and swollen, and extremely shiny - it was incredibly obvious that she'd been crying. Her usual bushy mane was matted, as though it needed a good wash. Her skin no longer had the glow it used to and her dressing gown hung awkwardly off her body - she'd definitely lost a lot of weight. Ron sighed exasperated ly, running a hand through his flaming red hair. It broke his heart seeing her like this every time, fallen from grace. He remembered how she used to laugh at his stupid jokes, her button nose wrinkling and her amber coloured eyes glinting - not at all dissimilar to the spark she had when reading. He remembered how it felt to feel her small warm body pressed into his, snoring lightly as she slept peacefully in his arms. They barely slept together nowadays, three days she'd crept into bed with him, but normally they'd sleep separately - him at night, her during the day whilst he was working.
Tears filled Herrmione's eyes as she apologised to him yet again, but things never changed, they'd been stuck like this for a year, in the same continuous loop. Ron stroked her hair softly, "Ssh babe" he whispered, "I understand, please don't cry baby" he added, his voice shaking slightly as he desperately willed her to stop, "Please let me know what's going on in there" he pleaded, feeling her shake her head, he pulled back, suddenly seeing red.
"Why won't you let me in? I know what's going on, I keep begging you to talk, but I get nothing. It tears me apart to see you like this, every single time. I lost Harry too you know, and it bloody hurts, there's nothing I can do but get on with it. I feel like I barely know you anymore Hermione and I don't know what to do. I can't go on like this." He cried annoyingly.
"How dare you!" Hermione growled, her eyes darkening with fury, "It must be so nice to go and act all brave and pretend nothing happened. I'm not like that, some of us are still healing, as my fiancée I thought I could rely on you... Obviously not!" She spat, her voice dripping with malice.
"You don't think I've tried?" Ron bellowed, "I've stayed with you, to hear you cry about the same stuff for the past year-" SLAP!
Ron was cut off by Hermione's hand, swiftly striking his cheek, leaving a burning red handprint in its place.
"You've gone fucking mental!" He cried, holding his cheek where she'd slapped him, "I'm leaving, I've had enough" he walked towards the door, ducked under the doorframe, his retreating back was the last Hermione was to see of him.
Ron sighed, he was at the Three Broomsticks with Seamus and Dean, who were checking out the ladies. He stared at one girl, was that Hermione? He peered more closely, his heart pounding as he hoped to see those warm amber coloured eyes that he was still haplessly in love with, instead to be met with metallic grey ones. He staggered backwards, trying to shake his thoughts of anything Hermione related. They'd been separated for nearly six months yet she still occupied his mind to the point of seeing her face everywhere, only for it to be someone completely different. He knew it was for the right reasons, her depression was holding him back, but it didn't help to ease his conscience and certainly didn't help him get over her. In fact, his heart felt even heavier nowadays, and his bed felt empty as he often imagined being snuggled up to the love of his life, who warmed his heart yet knew how to push all of his buttons. The thought of not seeing her or Harry ever again made him feel cold and dead inside. The Golden Trio was forever broken.