Disclaimer - The characters belong to J.K. Rowling and other various artists. This fic is written purely for entertainment purposes, and in this case, also for some house points.
Author Notes - Written for a writing assignment. No ships.
I am Hermione Granger, the brightest witch of Hogwarts, and also Harry Potter's best friend.
This report is written by me, on the request of Harry, the one who's called the savior of the world. The night before the final battle, he had asked me to keep a record of whatever happens the following day, because he wanted the world to know the truth, and not some made-up tale of a child.
Even though I would like nothing more than to forget the whole experience, I also know that it would be impossible to act like nothing had ever happened. It's been going on for too long; the war had progressed further than anybody thought. Even young children were being trained to use the most painful hexes and curses.
It broke Harry's heart, seeing their innocence being ripped away from them, all because of one person. I think he probably remembered his own childhood at those times, when he was treated as a slave and not a child. But he knew that he couldn't do anything other than watch, and it was most likely this fact that was hurting him so much.
After Dumbledore was killed, we knew that a part of Harry had died as well. He was no longer the boy he had been. Looking back now, I realize that it had probably started when Sirius died, but he had hid it so well that none of us even got an inkling of the battle he constantly fought within him.
Things got worse when Ron, my boyfriend, and the third member of our trio, also died shortly after the fall of Hogwarts. He died defending a group of young children who were cornered by a gang of Death Eaters.
Harry was never the same again. Although he was quite withdrawn before this event as well, after this incident, he became downright silent. He refused to eat or drink anything for a couple of days, and even then only the thought of those still alive made him continue to fight.
The day of the final battle finally dawned, and our army started towards their fate, with Harry leading them.
He looked so handsome at that moment, his emerald eyes filled with such sadness and wisdom that it broke my heart to see him then. His scar was burning, standing out with the blood slowly oozing out from it; the only thing, which indicated that he was in pain. He held himself perfectly straight, his determination and will power showing in the simplest of gestures.
He was the picture of elegance, at that moment. I've always known him to be a very clumsy boy, and that is why I was very surprised when I saw him that day. He looked just like a leader.
Voldemort's army was huge; we could see it waiting for us, stretching far beyond what our eyes could see. I could see that our army was hesitating, awed by the number of soldiers present. However, Harry was not affected by it, and he turned around and told his supporters so as well.
How well I remember his words; they struck something deep within me, and I realized just then how much Harry had changed.
"Let us dance." Three words that caused such a huge uproar, sending strength back into the hearts of each and every person there. With a cry everyone rushed forward, intent on destroying the evil right then and there. Little did they know that these three words would be the last anybody ever heard from him.
Several hours into the battle, the losses incurred by both sides were too many to count. And yet, everybody continued fighting. They weren't fighting for honor; instead they were fighting because they had come too far to give up now.
Everybody followed a rhythm. The war, in all its uniqueness, required everybody to follow a beat to stay alive. Anybody who didn't comply had to leave the dance. The dance, which everybody was dancing - the dance of life and death.
Finally, the inevitable moment came; the one, which decided the whole outcome of the war. Voldemort and Harry faced each other, both of them intent on dancing to the best of their abilities.
What followed then is known as the most famous battle in history. Brilliant colored curses and hexes flowed from one person to another. It is true that they both were worthy opponents; I doubt anybody else could have fought so well against them.
Their fight lasted a long time; everybody else stopped to watch them. Dodging, shielding, stretching, reflecting – they used all kinds of movements known to them. The suspense and expectations in the air were running high. Everybody there had only one thought in his or her mind – let Voldemort die.
With a dazzling white light, a bubble surrounded both of them, trapping everyone else outside. We don't know what happened then, for none of us were able to see within. We waited outside, the thought of continuing to fight no longer there.
Eventually, there was a loud "boom" and all the Death Eaters present there dropped like stone. To say we were astonished would be an understatement; it wasn't like you saw Death Eaters suddenly dieing everyday.
Cheers broke out. Those who were still able to stand rushed towards their families and friends, screaming with joy. Those who were too wounded to do anything managed a weak smile all the same.
I, however, had eyes only for Harry, and I rushed forward to find him. Spying a heap of clothes in the middle, I immediately moved towards it. Harry lay there, burned all over. He had his eyes closed, and I was suddenly scared that he was dead. However, as if sensing my gaze, he opened his eyes, and smiled. I was so relieved, convinced that he was going to be fine. However, I didn't know how mistaken I was.
"We danced, 'Mione. We danced till we dropped. And now the dance is over, and the performers must go back. I am a performer, and Voldemort was one as well. He's already gone, and now it's my turn. I must go back, 'Mione. I have to dance somewhere else now."
His voice was as strong as ever, and his breathing even. I knew that technically he was going to be fine, but still, after hearing his words, my heart stopped for a second.
"Nonsense Harry. You're going to be fine. I'm sure that medi-wizards are on their way. Till then, you just lie here with -" I started, not even realizing what I was saying. I just wanted to talk to him, reassure him that he was going to be fine, keep him alive till some help arrived.
"No, 'Mione. Let me speak. I had a great time with you and Ron. I'm sorry that he had to die so soon; I'm sure he would have loved to be able to fight today. I'm never going to forget you guys. Never." He interrupted me before I could continue.
At the mention of Ron, my tears started to flow. I just couldn't keep them back anymore. The unfairness of our lives suddenly came crashing down on me, a weight I couldn't bear any longer.
"Don't cry, 'Mione. A hero never cries. No matter what happens, he takes it in his stride. That is what I want you to do. Move on. Live your life the way you want. Forget the past, and work towards the future. Promise me, you'll do this. Do it for me, 'Mione. Never look back."
I nodded, holding his hand in mine. All my life he's been the one to guide and console us, and now was no different. Even though it was he who lay there dieing, I realized that I was the one who needed the comfort more.
We sat like that for a long time, his hand in mine, giving me strength and courage to go on.
Finally, he opened his eyes, and spoke. "It's time. Always remember, 'Mione, that although we won this battle, the war still remains on. Evil is something that can never disappear. Good only triumphs for a short while, before it too must leave. Always remember that…never forget."
With these last words, the greatest wizard the world has ever known passed away. He was the greatest in every way; courage, strength, will power, luck, wisdom, understanding, power. We can never forget what he has done for us; and never again will we ever see a wizard as great as he.
I made a promise to him, which I intent to keep. This is the last time I think about my past; I'm starting a new life from tomorrow.
Today, I'll cry all I want, but tomorrow, I'll move on. A hero never cries, and he moves on. I may not be a hero, but I'm following the path a real hero showed me.
Tomorrow…when tomorrow comes, I'll be there to meet it. Harry said that the dance was over, but I disagree. The dance can never be over. As long as there are people, they will have to continue to dance. The dance of life and death.
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