Disclaimer: I don't get credit for any of this, not even the rose. Even that was insipired by Dan Brown.
A/N: I started writing this story with completely different intentions, but then the plot bunny bit me and I had to chase it down. I still plan on writing the other, but I had to finish this first. Oh, the poetry is mine. Just pretend it's a bad translation of Olde English.
Amore Devoveo
Hermione Granger sighed as she shuffled the pile of papers and pamphlets on the desk in front of her. As much as she enjoyed ancient runes, curse breaking for Gringotts did not seem to be the right fit. Somewhere in the pile of papers before her there had to be something better. All it should take was some more careful analysis and organization.
She placed the stack back on the table and glanced around the library. A few students were scattered around the tables, mostly Ravenclaws, determinedly completing homework. Everyone else, including Harry and Ron, was out enjoying the pleasant turn in the weather.
For once, Hermione was not completing essays, nor was she busy digging through massive books searching for something, anything, they could use to help Harry. No, that was no longer necessary. Harry didn't need her research skills anymore.
Why couldn't she make a decision? She was an ambitious girl with plans and goals. What ever the problem, she had always been able to figure it out, given the time to come up with a logical, well thought-out plan. How had she managed to achieve so much and still have the biggest decision of her life unmade?
Hermione was up in the library, trying to reason through what to do with the rest of her life. How had this happened? What about her infamous study schedules? She had been entrusted with a time turner in third year. She had the best marks in her year, every year. She had helped organize the DA, even after Umbridge had banned all student organizations with those preposterous educational decrees. All of this had been accomplished through careful, well-thought out planning. How had she, Head Girl, ended up without having a plan for what to do once she finished school?
She had been very self assured when she, Ron and Harry had gone through those career pamphlets before going to meet with McGonagall in fifth year. Basically, her head of house had told her that with her marks and steadfast study habits, she could probably choose any career she wished. Hermione had desperately wanted to discuss what some of those options might be, but she certainly had not wanted to do it with that toad, Umbridge, sitting in on the meeting, as she had with all the Gryffindors. So she simply told Professor McGonagall that she appreciated the compliment and took pride in her teacher's confidence in her abilities. Then she followed Harry to the Department of Mysteries, and she had rarely given her career options a second thought. Somehow, she had let her future slip through the cracks. It was stuck somewhere between homework (it was their NEWT year, after all), and helping Harry. She didn't have time to dwell on some vague future.
For if she stopped to think about it too long, she had realized they might not have a future at all.
And that was it, wasn't it? Amid all of the extra defense practice, the prefect duties, and the school work, Hermione had filed away her future. It was as if she had put the decisions she needed to make away, because unless they found a way to help Harry, it was all going to be a waste of time anyway.
It was only recently that she had thought making future plans was worthwhile. It was only a while ago that they had a secured a future to plan in the first place.
Was it really only a month since Hermione had stood in the middle of the street in Hogsmeade with Harry, Ron, Neville and Ginny? The four of them had surrounded Harry, fending off Death Eaters as Harry dueled the Dark Lord.
Hermione reached down into her bag on the floor to get some parchment and a quill. Maybe she should start with a list. Simply organize her options with a list of pros and cons. Maybe then she could sort out which of her post-Hogwarts options was the most promising.
But as she was digging at the bottom of the bag to get a new bottle of ink, Hermione came across a thin book, if you could call something so slight a book. 'Oh yes,' she remembered. 'I suppose I really should return this. It appears as if we are through with it after all.'
But as she pulled the thin volume from her bag, she hesitated. This was where she had found it. This was where they had found a way to help Harry.
The beauty of the sweetest rose
will fade and fall away,
but from the stem, new hearts will grow
to bloom another day.
As she read the beautifully illuminated manuscript, Hermione realized she was reading a medieval allegory. It was not unlike the poems she remembered studying in her muggle school, long ballads which told of pilgrimages to Canterbury and the tales of Arthur, Gawain, and Merlin.
The old form of English was difficult to decipher at first, but by mouthing the words as she read, willing herself to hear as well as read the sounds, she began to realize that these pages held much more than a tale of tragedy, love and devotion. Just like the muggle stories she remembered, this story also held a message, a lesson to learn about magic and its power.
A new-formed bud from mother's care
Death sought to divide,
yet with the loving life she gave
strong wards she did provide.
Of course, she thought. Those muggle stories were merely allegories to teach a lesson about faith, or the dangers of not living virtuously. They were also from the time when the public practice of magic, while already kept secret, was not so far from the popular memory as to be discounted completely as the work of the imagination or worse, the devil.
Hermione snuck the book up to her room to read it away from the prying eyes of Mme. Pince. The ancient rhymes began to feel more familiar as she read the words, carefully pronouncing them aloud to ensure that she missed none of their meaning.
The bond of friendship tightly wound
gives strength to all and one
the petals join and over lap
keep safe 'til evil's done.
And that was it, she realized. Maybe they weren't looking for a spell that could defeated Voldemort. There probably wasn't one anyway. "The power he knew not" wasn't some type of magic that Harry needed to practice. Perhaps it was his devotion to his friends, and their devotion to him that could save him, and them as well, at least until they found a way.
Hermione shuddered. She preferred not to think of what life would be like if they didn't find a way. As a muggle born, surely she would be one of the first to be targeted.
That night, after doing her rounds, Hermione joined the others in the common room. They all noticed the serious look on her face and determinedly stayed put as one by one the rest of Gryffindor climbed the stairs to their dormitories. Ron had already let Harry and Ginny know that she had something to tell them, so the three gathered round her on the sofa in front of the fire. Neville joined them as well, noticing, as he always did, that something was up.
Hermione showed them the ancient manuscript and its message of loyalty, devotion and sacrifice. It might not have the power to defeat You-Know-Who in a duel, she explained, but the part about the newly formed bud protected by a mother's love sounded a lot like Lily's sacrifice for Harry.
The next part of the poem spoke of friendship. The old stories were full of references to the bond of true friendship. Many tales spoke of that bond as being one of the strongest and most pure. Maybe if they could find a way to create a magical bond between themselves, they could at least have a hope of protecting each other until Harry found a way to conquer Voldemort.
Harry, of course, refused at first. It took some arguing on all points to get him to listen. Ron blustered that he was playing the hero again. Ginny's insisted that he get over himself, because they were not going to allow Harry to face Voldemort alone again.
In the end, it was Neville that finally won Harry over. 'Look, Harry. You're always so worried about protecting everyone else. Maybe this is a way to do it. Even if it only provides protection for a little while,' he said, 'isn't it worth a try? I mean, we were all at the Department of Mysteries, and they tried to get Ron and Hermione last year. Who's to say that you'll even be there the next time we run into Death Eaters?'
Harry finally gave in on the condition that Neville be included in the extra training the others had been receiving from Lupin at the Shrieking Shack. Neville wasn't surprised that the three seventh years were having extra lessons, but he looked surprised when he realized Ginny had been training, too... at least until Ron muttered under his breath that the only reason Ginny had been allowed to join them last year was that she had threatened to rat them out to her mum.
Hermione spent the next day in the library, trying to devise a spell that could create the type of magical bond required. It needed to have the strength of a life debt. How did one channel the devotion of five such very different people? Was the tie between them all strong enough? She didn't doubt the connection between herself, Ron and Harry. Ginny was Ron's brother and had a life debt to Harry, so there had to be a strong bond there anyway.
Her concern was Neville. He wasn't what you would call a best friend. Rather, he was one of those friends you knew well and grew to appreciate over the years as you both grew up. Getting his own wand sixth year had helped him in charms quite a bit. Neville was a far cry from the bumbling clumsy boy who had tried to stop them from going to the Third Floor in first year.
Still he had joined them at the Department of Mysteries, and Neville had been the one to get Harry to Dumbledore when he had seen the attempt to kidnap his two best friends last year. Somehow, Hemione realized, Neville had ended up being involved in many of their adventures through the years. He was brave, loyal, and accepting - the kind of friend you could depend on no matter what.
Late the next night, the five friends were again in front of the fire in the Gryffindor common room. She wasn't sure it would work, but they stood in a circle, each with their wands raised in front of them. In turn, each remembered a time when they had felt the bond of friendship, touching their wand to their heart, and then pointing it to the middle of the circle, they recited the spell, amore devoveo. As each one performed the ritual in turn, they touched the wand tips of the others who had already added their own wands to the point in the center. When Harry's wand joined the others, they all recited the vow in unison. Amore devoveo. Loving Sacrifice.
The point where their wands touched glowed briefly, and each of them sensed the strength of the others as a warm sensation flowing from their wand hands throughout the rest of their bodies, followed by the memories of friendship each had held dear- a remembrall, the thestrals, a troll, the second task, Malfoy on the train. . The bond was there. All they could do was hope it would be enough.
Hermione had found the manuscript that fall. The school year went on and everyone became overwhelmed. All but Ginny were weighed down by the extra work in their NEWT classes. Ron, Harry, and Ginny had Quidditch practice and Hermione was Head Girl. Neville was busy helping Professor Sprout in the greenhouses. The only times they seemed to be together as a group were during their walks to the extra defense classes.
Their schedules may have kept them busy, Hermione realized, but the magical bond they had created continued to strengthen. As she remembered, she realized how many times one of them had come to the aid of the other, whether it was Ron and Harry on the Quidditch pitch, Ginny being there to comfort Hermione after a row with Ron, or Neville's defense of Harry as the Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly continued to print the occasionally nasty article about the Boy Who Lived. They seemed to have developed a sense of knowing when one of the others needed help. Not always daring, coming to your rescue type of help. Just as often it was the support of a friendly ear, or someone to help you make it through potions with Snape yet again.
Hermione gently laid the precious book on the table. "Never mind about the list," she thought as she started to put the pile of papers she had been studying back into her bag. "I should follow Ron's advice and be outside enjoying the wonderful day. I'll just pack everything up and return this to it's place."
"Bother," she grumbled to herself as she noticed yet another hole in her bag beginning to wear through. This one, though, didn't appear as though she would be able to repair it magically. Seven years of lugging around extra books for all her classes and research had done a job on her large leather satchel. She smiled as she remembered purchasing the bag with her parents in Diagon Alley, just before first year. She had begged for the largest satchel the shop had available, despite her mother's protests that she wasn't big enough to carry the bag full without developing severe back problems.
"Well, it's good thing I won out," she thought. "Otherwise I wouldn't have been able to help Ron and Harry with near as much." She sighed as she remembered all the times they had taken on research, from Nicholas Flammel, to Buckbeak's defense, to all of the hexes they learned to help Harry prepare for the third task. Odd, wasn't it, that after seven years of carrying a bag full of the heaviest books in the library, she had finally found the answer in a small, handwritten portfolio with barely twenty pages?
Well, there would be a Hogsmeade visit soon. Ron could help her pick out a nice professional bag to replace this one. It wouldn't do to show up to her interviews with the Ministry carrying a worn and patched school satchel. She was studious, but she wanted to appear the professional, not the starving student. Where was that shop? She had been dragging Ron to it that day.
She was looking for a case for her papers, to keep them from getting wrinkled among the many volumes in her bag. They came down to Hogsmeade earlier in the day. Harry, wanting to give the two some much needed time alone, agreed to meet them that the Three Broomsticks for a butterbeer and some lunch.
Ron had been teasing Hermione about the need to either carry fewer books or be less concerned about her loose papers when they sensed it. In mid sentence, Ron stopped teasing Hermione and stared at her. His eyes asked if she felt it too. She nodded. Harry was in trouble.
They ran out of the shop, barreling down the street to find Harry standing in the middle of the street, fighting off a group of wizards in dark robes and with hoods covering their faces. Before they could reach him, a streak of red light shot towards one of the death eaters. It was Neville. He caught their eye as he was coming out of The Three Broomsticks with his wand drawn and a determined look on his face. Shortly after, Ginny came skidding out of Quality Quidditch Supplies and joined them. The four of them defended each other and cast hexes of their own as they worked their way towards Harry.
Suddenly, the death eaters who had been bombarding Harry were gone. The group ran to him and found him breathing hard, but miraculously unhurt. His eyes showed the relief he felt at knowing his friends were there. The bond had worked. It had drawn them to him when he was in danger. He whispered, Amore devoveo. They didn't know how to defeat Voldemort yet, but at least together, they stood a chance of surviving this attack.
A flash of green light startled the circle of friends. They turned and together saw what they had been dreading. A tall, thin form appeared in front of them. Hermione could see the red eyes from under the hood, and they could hear him hissing as he breathed. He seemed to float rather than walk as he glided toward Harry.
The group of friends gathered behind Harry, with Hermione and Ron to either side and a little behind him, and Ginny and Neville behind them. Harry stood facing Voldemort, determined to see this through to the end. Hermione knew this was it. "Neither can live while the other survives." It was all going to come down to this. Five friends, standing together, because they were unwilling to let one of them face this evil alone.
It happened so quickly. It took a long time for Hermione to finally reason it all out. Voldemort pointed his wand at Harry and laughed that he might as well get rid of the rest of them while he was at it. At the same time, Harry had tried to cast a shield charm around the group. What he didn't know was, so did they.
The lights from their wands danced between them until it seemed as if they were linked. Then the beams sprang up into the air above them, intertwining until they formed a pattern over their heads. She remembered thinking it looked something like a flower. As the jolt of green light from the killing curse sped towards them, the petals of the flower closed around them, encasing the five friends in strands of gold, silver, red and white.
Hermione remembered waking up in the hospital wing, with Ron in the bed on one side, and Harry on the other. Neville and Ginny were across the way. Voldemort was dead. And they each had a lightning bolt scar on their chests, right above their hearts.
Hermione looked at the delicately bound stack of parchment on the table in front of her. It truly was a piece of art. The hand drawn letters glimmered. She watched the roses intertwined with the larger first letter on each page magically bloom, fall, and bloom again. The secret had been here all along, hidden in a beautifully illuminated poem of love and devotion, not in some great tome of complicated and difficult spells.
Yet, even after talking it all through with Professor Dumbeldore, Hermione still wasn't quite sure how it had all worked. The best she could figure, the bond they had created had indeed added some measure of protection. How, though, had that been translated into a force powerful enough to defeat the Dark Lord? She didn't remember anyone using any spell more complicated than a shielding charm.
A shield cast over the rest of the group, as each of them had tried to used all their power to save the others.
Five petals share a beauty rare,
an essence pure and strong.
The petals close to keep blooms safe
from danger, strife and wrong.
The rose. Most of the verses referred to the rose.
An ancient symbol of purity in love.
Of course! When they had been standing with Harry, they hadn't been standing in a circle, as Hermione had first thought. Rather, they had formed a five pointed star, and while this symbol had many fearful magical connotations in the muggle world, any well versed wizard knew that it represented the union of the elements, the harnessing of power. In its other form, it stood for devoted, self-sacrificing love.
For centuries, the five points they had formed were also known as the rose.
Her mind hadn't been playing tricks on her. The beams of light that had danced in the air above them had indeed formed a flower. The five petals of the rose had closed around them, like a bloom closing to protect itself from the frost of the night air. Their spells had overlapped, strengthened by their bond of friendship, and saved them all. The killing spell had again rebounded, only this time, the fierce devotion of the five friends had given it the power to truly put an end to the Dark Lord.
So it was over. Voldemort was gone. Even Dumbledore was fairly certain of that, although aurors were still searching out the remnants of his Death Eaters.
And they had been left with a chance to plan a future.
Harry and Ron were planning to enter auror training around the beginning of term next fall. Hermione sighed. She wished she had such a certain grasp on her future. The piles of pamphlets she had been scouring had not helped her make a decision. She couldn't help see the humor in the situation. Here she was, the brightest witch in her year, the know it all book worm who had brewed Polyjuice, managed a protean charm and found the way to defeat Voldemort. And yet she had no idea what she was going to do with herself once she left Hogwarts.
'Oy, 'Mione!' Hermione was jolted out of her reminiscing by a tall lanky red head and a green eyed boy with glasses and hopelessly messy hair. They both stood in front of her table, leaning on their hands, putting their faces directly into hers.
'We've just come in from a fly, and decided to come and kidnap you,' Ron said with a grin. 'We can't have the brightest witch in our year fainting away from hunger now, can we?"
'Dinner's not for an hour yet, and I really have to make some progress here..' Hermione protested. 'I'll meet you in the Great Hall then.'
'Sorry, Hermione,' Harry said as Ron began to nonchalantly stuff her carefully organized piles into her bag. 'Dobby's making us a picnic. Neville and Ginny are bringing it out.'
'Come on, love. You don't have to decide your future in one day y'know. It's not like the possibilites are going to disappear,' Ron sad, putting on the face he used whenever he was worried she was working too hard.
'I suppose you're right. Some fresh air might just help clear my head a little," Hermione gave in. 'I'll just put this back on the shelf, then.'
Hermione walked back to corner where she had found the dusty portfolio the previous fall. Maybe, she thought. Maybe I could just keep this beautiful book. She had obviously been the only one to open it in ages. It could be a reminder of her time here at Hogwarts and all she had accomplished. As Hermione stopped at the appropriate shelf, she thought of Ron and Harry back at the table. They had been through so much together since that Halloween feast first year. She didn't need to keep the book as a momento. Hermione returned the book to its place in the dusty shelves. Who knew? Maybe it held even more secrets that someone else might need one day.
Ron carried Hermione's now overflowing bag out of the library down to the lake. Neville and Ginny were already there, setting out the feast Dobby had prepared.
"Neville, don't roses grow well here in England?" Hemione asked as they finished the last of the strawberry scones.
"Why yes!" he replied enthusiastically. "In fact there are several magical varieties. There's one type that never stops blooming. Another has thorns that only prick the enemies of its cultivators."
Hermione listened to Neville for a moment, watching as Ron and Harry began throwing stones to the squid in the lake. Ginny fell asleep on the blanket. It was peaceful and calm and secure. This was the part of her past she would hold onto.
It was time to start planning her future. She couldn't put it off much longer. People were going to expect her to make a decision soon.
But for now, she wanted to have a little more time in the present. She wanted more time to enjoy the moment. To dwell on the wonderful fact that there were a multitude of possibilities.
Planning that future could wait. Being with her friends was what was important now.
It was because of them, because of amore devoveo, that she even had a future to plan at all.