Hermione Granger and the Awful Feeling of Depression
Year 7
September 1, 1997
Hogwarts seems so strange this year. I'm sitting on the train in a compartment with Ron and Ginny, but no Harry. Harry should be here. It's so sad. He died during our Potions final. We were working on an unknown potion while Snape sat, grinning delightedly, as he graded essays they had finished only a half hour before.
Harry was sharing his bench with Neville. A grand beginning for the day. Not even I could have helped Harry out of this situation. Snape had assigned seats. I shot him sympathetic looks whenever he turned around. Neville always managed to botch his potion. He had been mouthing to me when it happened. "It's gone bright pink!" I saw the terror fill his eyes right before the cauldron exploded. Nearly everyone ducked or was too far away for any harm. Harry had been hit in the back of the head with one of the handles. Snape barely looked up from his papers.
"Anyone that was hurt can either finish their potion or go to the infirmary with the knowledge that leaving your cauldron is cause for failure. Yes, Miss Granger?"
"Harry- he's not moving!"
"Well then, Miss Granger, the first person done may levitate him to the infirmary."
"But the potion won't be done for at least another thirty minutes!"
"Ten points from Gryffindor. Anything else, Miss Granger? Very good. Back to work. As for you Mr. Longbottom- fail. Now take Mr. Potter to the infirmary before Miss Granger has an aneurysm."
"Professor Snape, I don't think he's breathing."
"Mr. Longbottom, I ask that you restrain from hysterics. Now take him to the infirmary."
"Yes, Professor."
And out floated Harry, followed closely by Neville. At least Harry hadn't hit his head on the way out. What happened next was terrible enough.
"Hm. It seems Mr. Potter would have failed, anyway."
He whisked away the two ruined potions and walked back to his desk, slipping and gripping onto a desk to keep from falling. A few brave Slytherins snickered behind the guise of having coughing fits, but many looked down to avoid the steely glaze as Snape looked around the room. I just had enough time to look back up to see his face as he looked down at the stone floors and saw the small pool of very fresh, red blood.
That was the day that Harry Potter died.
So, that could be the end of this story. Could continue the story of Hermione's seventh year sans Harry. It all depends on what kind of feedback I get.
Now that you've read it and you're kind of sad, try to think of the humor in the fact that the Savior of the Wizarding World died in a Potions accident. Love you all.