Inspired by a song, which is not owned by me.
I own nothing!
….
The castle was almost silent, as a young messy haired boy climbed it's turrets higher and higher. It's almost never ending swathe of corridors were utterly devoid of life. He cautiously listened as he stepped on yet another loose stone. It would not do for him to be found.
Soon he had reached the top, and in a daze he walked to the edge of the barrier. He didn't feel…right. It wasn't something he could name, but the unsettling feeling had been present since the final battle at Hogwarts weeks earlier. As he looked over the grounds, memories flooded his brain. Memories of excitement, happiness…. Loss. Pain, blood, death… So much death. Whilst he looked on tears streamed down his face, and he tried to speak, but only one word escaped his clogged throat. "Sorry..." He drew a deep, ragged breath and forced the words on his lips out. "I'm so sorry! I….I never, I should've…..I….." He spent several moments contemplating how exactly to put his feelings into words, how to properly apologise to those that he loved for all that had happened.
Finally it all seemed to be enough. The dam broke. And his feelings were unleashed from their cage at the back of his mind. They swirled around in his mind, drowning out all other thoughts and crashing against his tongue. Until Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived, opened his mouth and screamed. He stood there and howled his grief and loss to the stars. Putting in all of his fear, his guilt and his love and released it in one wordless wail of anguish. Taking another deep breath he repeated the process again and again until his throat felt raw.
"…Harry? Harry!" Suddenly he felt warm arms encasing him and smothering, holding him tightly. He didn't even pause just turned and sobbed into her shoulder. "'Mione….s'all my…..my fault….i should've…could've….they're gone….I'm alone….No one….Everyone gets hurt…" he punctuated each word with a dry sob, and clung to his best friend. One of his pillars of strength and courage.
"Shh…Harry. It's alright; it's not your fault. No one blames you, you can't save everyone." These words just made him sob harder. "It's okay to cry shh…." She rubbed soothing circles on his back and reach down to kiss his head. She held him until his sobs died down, and his breathing evened out. He was asleep. Only then did she lift up her head, tears sparkling in her eyes. "Oh Harry. You will never be alone. Ron and I are your family now. And I promise to always take care of you."
~~~/~~~
A young red haired boy hurtled through the corridors of his old school as fast as he could, tears blurring his vision. Finally reaching the astronomy tower, he let out a roar of pure frustration. His fingers clawed at his head, trying to rid himself of the thoughts it contained. With his mind swamped by images of his family, he turned and threw a small golden object against the wall. It did not shatter. He snarled and pulled his wand out, intending to destroy it completely. Pointing it directly at the small medallion his eyes caught the words engraved on its surface.
For outstanding use of courage and his help in destroying Lord Voldemort, we award Ronald Billius Weasley an order of merlin first class as a reminder of all he has sacrificed to aid in his defeat.
His expression hardened and he wrenched his gaze away, finally walking slightly and stumbling over the floor. When he fell he did not try to get back up. As the first sob escaped his lips he looked skywards and wailed. Again and again, not pausing until he heard a familiar feminine voice from the doorway. "RON!" and he was swept up in a firm, yet soft embrace. He clutched at her, his anchor and wept. Only when he was able to grasp a semblance of control he whispered to her.
"I always wanted it Hermione…. I always wanted to be better; to be the best. I wanted to make mum prouder than she'd ever been. I wanted to be seen as Ron Weasley, the hero; not just another in a long line of red heads… I thought I'd do anything, anything to get what I wanted…but….. It's not worth it. It'll never be worth it. I don't deserve it. I never will. I don't want praise or to be famous… I just…. I just want my family whole again!" He sounded drained, exhausted. Hermione looked at him for a few moments before standing up and gently tugging on his arm. She took him back to the common room, all the while whispering soothing words over and over. When they arrived she led him to the sofa and held him until he was still. Then she replied.
"I don't think it will ever be worth it Ron. But you have to carry on, for their sake. Okay? It'll get better. Because we still have each other."
~~~/~~~
A young woman strode down the corridors of Hogwarts, heading for the headmistress's office. As she walked she took in the scenes of newly repaired walls and paintings. Hogwarts looked better than ever. She smiled slightly, then sobered up and prepared herself for what she was about to ask. She knocked. "Come in Miss Granger."
"Good evening Professor. I hope you are well."
"I am fine. Yourself?"
"Adequate." She decided to forgo small talk. "Professor, I came here because I did not know who else to go to. You see, I would like your help in arranging a port key to Australia. My parents are currently over there and now that the war is over I would like to see them. The Weasleys are mourning and I don't know anyone else who would be able to help me." The older woman studied her for a moment, considering all that she knew.
"When would you like it to be available? I am sure I could procure one from the Ministry for yourself and Mr Weasley." Hermione frowned.
"As soon as possible really, and Ronald will not be accompanying me." The older woman opened her mouth. "And neither will Harry."
McGonagall's lips thinned. "Then who will be accompanying you?" Hermione fidgeted. "Miss Granger I think it very unwise for you to go alone, if something were to go wrong you would be stranded in another country with no means of returning." The younger woman panicked.
"But Professor, Ron and Harry are still grieving. I don't think now is the right time to bother them with my problems, and yet after everything that has happened… I need to see my parents. I've put it off long enough." Her expression was pleading, her posture weakening. Minerva took one look and sighed.
"Well in that case…. I shall go with you. I am perfectly able, and someone needs to escort you." Hermione smiled and nodded her assent. "If you could then give me the details of their location, then I will arrange transport for a week's time. The port key will of course leave the same day, and I will inform you of the specific times later. Is that acceptable?" They chatted for a while longer about their arrangements before Hermione stood.
"That's wonderful." She turned to leave before adding "Thank you. I know how much work you have had recently, and I just want you to know that I really appreciate it. Good night." She gave the older witch a small smile before returning to the common room.
~~~/~~~
Hermione sighed as she waited in a small corner of the leaky cauldron for her mentor to arrive with the port key that would lead her to her parents again. As she sipped her drink a million thoughts whizzed through her head. 'Will they recognise me? Will they be mad? What if they prefer their life over there? What if they don't forgive me?' Finally deciding that it was simply better if she didn't think about it at all, her eyes wandered over the occupants of the room. They hustled to and fro, going about their everyday lives as if they hadn't just come out of a war. She smiled, at least Voldemort hadn't had a lasting impression, and people would mourn, celebrate, and ultimately move on from his reign of terror. She was proud of them for not ever losing all hope.
Suddenly she felt a hand on her shoulder, and jumped, seeing her professor. "Miss…." She quietened at Hermione's frantic gestures to keep her quiet. She didn't want to bring attention to herself, as after the war she and Ron had become almost as famous as Harry. They were dubbed 'The Golden Trio' by the daily prophet, and soon Hermione had found herself swamped with reporters and fan mail. But she couldn't deal with that here. Not now. She coughed, and gestured towards a nearby booth where they could wait for the port key to activate in peace. "How are you Miss Granger?" McGonagall asked as soon as they were hidden.
"Hermione, please. And yes I am fine thank you. What about you?"
"I'm fine."
"I'm sorry for seeming rude, but I didn't want us to be delayed by the public. I hope you don't mind." McGonagall shook her head.
"No, of course I understand." There was an awkward moment of silence. McGonagall checked her watch, Hermione noticed briefly that it was the one Dumbledore had always used. "The port key should be ready soon… hold on tight." Hermione nodded and they both grasped the doorknob that appeared from her bag.
As she heard it emit a small squeal Hermione felt the familiar sensation of wizard travelling. When they arrived she stumbled, and turned to see McGonagall land gracefully like her animagus form. Instantly the elder woman began walking towards her destination, but Hermione stopped her.
"Wait! Professor there's something you should know; when they first see me… my parents won't recognise me." At her questioning look she hastily elaborated. "Before I went with Harry to…. On the run, I modified my parent's memory so that they didn't know about him. Harry I mean. And whilst I was doing that I suddenly thought 'What if I died in this? What if they come after my parents simply because of me?' So….. They now are under the impression that they are Wendell and Monika Wilkins, a normal couple who don't have a daughter." She hung her head, feeling more than a little ashamed for not telling her beforehand.
The professor however, in an uncharacteristic display of affection, moved forward and enveloped the girl in a hesitant hug. "Oh don't worry about that, they'll accept your reasoning." She felt the girl shake slightly. "Dear, don't worry…. I had no idea….all the things we've had to give up...Shh, it's okay you can see them soon. Their house is just around the corner." At these words she stilled and looked up at Minerva's face.
Breaking away and looking very embarrassed, she murmured a "Thank you Professor, I just didn't realise how much it bothered me." She took a deep breath. "Well, I think we should get going then, if we want to pack everything before the next port key." She spun and started walking away at a brisk pace. Minerva began to follow, only to halt her steps as a gasp came from her young protégé. She instantly withdrew her wand, perceiving a threat and watched with shock as Hermione broke her cover and sprinted around the corner. Minerva cursed, and instantly followed her at full speed.
And skidded to a halt the moment she turned the corner.
There was so much smoke, so much ash. The whole street, save for one house had been burned to a cinder. Minerva swallowed back the bile and focused on the solitary house. It was small, yet cosy, and looked pleasant enough. But as her gaze ascended she saw that above it, covered by smoky black clouds, and was the feared image of a skull and snake entwined. She almost froze, but then remembered Hermione and her parents. She choked. Hermione's parents! Piecing together what the girl had done, she pelted after her, screaming her name.
"Hermione! Hermione! We must leave!" She just entered the door; when the girl crashed past her in the narrow corridor. She was travelling at such a speed, that when she turned corner she collided with the wall. Despite this, she didn't slow down, and systematically went in and out of each room on the ground floor. After the first time Minerva realised what she was looking for. Bodies. The Headmistress moved to grab the distressed girl, when she caught a glimpse of the inside of the rooms. She swallowed.
The furniture was completely destroyed, some half burnt, some being eroded by what looked like a toxic acid. But covering the entire floor was an image of a snake killing a phoenix with a lightning bolt scar. The walls themselves were perfectly intact, save for the writing in what looked suspiciously like blood all across them. Mudbloods….Filth…. Scum….Vile animals…. It read. She backed away quickly and followed Hermione into the next one; this too was covered from head to toe in the blood writing. I am filth… I am Dirt… I deserve to die… Filthy muggles should serve their masters. It sickened her, and when she turned away she noticed a pile of what looked like blood and hair in the corner. She went no further.
"Hermione…." But the young girl was already streaming upstairs. Minerva numbly followed her, and took out her wand. She checked for jinxes and curses, but found none. As she made her way up, bile rose in her throat when she took in the new 'decorations', someone had completely ruined the place, and turned it into a torture chamber with a large manner of various grisly devices. She didn't even think about what they had probably done and to whom. She followed Hermione, who by now was gasping for air as she ran, into the smallest room. Seeing the now torn and bloodied beds, she concluded that this was the bedroom. She felt her throat constrict at the words on the wall. You're next MUDBLOOD xxx. By now Hermione was kneeling in the centre of the room, grasping at two bloody lumps….Her parents.
They were now completely unrecognisable, their bodies burnt and broken. The Grangers had clearly been through immense torture at the hands of Bellatrix before she died. Hermione herself was now coated in their blood, her mouth opening and closing with no words coming out. Minerva's keen hearing soon picked up and high pitched whine coming from her mouth. "Hermione…" She stood, and pried the poor girl away from her deceased parents, and tried to apparate then and there. Alas, Hermione's wards must have still been in effect and instead she gathered the now motionless girl in her arms and carried her out to the garden. Hurriedly she moved through the mass of bodies, and shielded Hermione's eyes. She had already seen too much death for one so young. As soon as she reached the boundaries, Minerva turned and was gone.
Gingerly, she placed her young charge onto the small sofa of her private quarters. "Hermione….?" No response. "Hermione, dear would you like me to get Harry or Ron?" She shook her head almost robotically before hugging her knees and burying her head. Minerva's heart ached. "Oh…Darling." She encompassed Hermione in her arms. Her protégé stiffened and tried to pull away. Minerva looked hurt. "You can't hold it in Hermione, you don't need to. The war's over, you can grieve. Please Darling." Hermione's shoulder's relaxed and she turned to face Minerva, he face unreadable, blank.
"I'm fine professor, really. I just need a few seconds, and then I have to go visit the burrow." Minerva eyed her suspiciously.
"I can inform Harry or Ronald if you wish," she was startled by the sudden 'No!' from the younger girl. "Miss Gr…Hermione. I don't think that it would be wise for you to visit the Burrow today. You have just suffered a horrific loss and you need time to process that. Perhaps Miss Weasley could escort you?" Hermione vigorously shook her head. "Miss Granger I will not just leave you alone and you would be ill advised to go to Molly's party after this!" Hermione flinched.
"Professor…I just." She took a deep breath. "This just isn't what Harry or Ron need at the moment." She rushed forward at the look on her mentor's face. "I mean, they've just gotten over their own tragedies, and moving on from the war…it's hard for them. They're finally succeeding and this….it'll just remind them. I don't need them to worry about me, I'm the strong one. I look after them." A steely glint had taken up residence in her eyes, and Minerva was uncomfortably reminded of how much the young girl was like her. She made a snap judgment.
"Miss Granger. I absolutely refuse to take you to the Burrow at this time." Hermione's eyes narrowed and Minerva met her gaze with cold eyes. "I will send Molly a message telling her that you were unfortunately unable to attend, and you will stay here, where I can keep an eye on you." Hermione scowled. "It's no longer up for discussion." Minerva softened. "Hermione… I'm just trying to help. I only wish to know that you're safe." The young girl remained stoic. Sighing Minerva showed her the rooms where she would sleep, and then the bathroom. She didn't want Hermione going missing in the night. It's what she would have done. Concluding the tours of her private quarters she noticed that Hermione looked tired. "Would you like a cup of tea dear?" Hermione looked torn, before gently nodding her head. Pleased that her cub was beginning to relax Minerva hurried to make the preferred Ginger and Lemon tea. She paused, before deciding that the poor girl wouldn't appreciate a sleeping draught.
Walking into her living room, she placed the cups and a tin of ginger newt biscuits on an ebony table. She settled into a leather armchair, and focused her gaze on Hermione. After a few moments of awkward silence between the two, Minerva decided to speak up. "And how are Misters Potter and Weasley?" Hermione shifted before answering.
"They're recovering. It's hard for them- not that it wasn't hard for everybody- but, but we were with Harry all … most of the time, and it was so… But then again we had each other, and we supported one another. I can't imagine what would've happened if one of us had d…." She stopped, her breathing coming to a sharp halt. Minerva gave her a few second to breathe, and then Hermione looked up, her mask in place once more. With a false smile on her face she addressed Minerva "Professor if you don't mind I am feeling very tired, I think I will go to bed."
"Of course, third door on the left." Knowing she would have a far from peaceful sleep Minerva opted to stay awake a little longer. She sat sipping her tea for almost an hour before her sensitive ear picked up a quiet sniffing. Immediately making her way towards Hermione's room she silently opened the door. "Miss Granger…?" she whispered. The girl was tossing and turning on the bed, whimpering in her sleep. Minerva wasted no time in going to her. She sat on the edge of the bed, took her cub's hand in hers and stroked the girl's hair soothingly. "Shh…. It's a dream ….I know it's hard… think of better things." Soon her little lion calmed down, and Minerva let go. At the door she waited- should she stay and make sure she was alright? Remembering how she had felt after the first war, Minerva conjured a comfortable armchair and sat down, prepared for a long night.
~~~/~~~
Minerva awoke to the soft sound of footfalls on the carpet. She blearily opened one eye, and at once narrowed it when she spotted the clock. '1 o'clock? What am I doing awake at that bloody time?' She snapped back to attention at the next footfall. Collecting her thoughts, she pieced the information together…. 'Hermione! She's going to the burrow!' She sprang to her feet, and locked eyes with Hermione, who eyes briefly flicked towards the door, before the younger girl suddenly darted forward… THUD.
"LET ME GO! GET OFF! GET OFF OF ME!" Minerva had pinned her to the floor, and was now holding her in a vice-like, grip. Minerva didn't know why she had reacted like she did, but she knew from personal experience that Hermione couldn't be around people at the moment, especially people who didn't know what had just happened. She briefly thought that perhaps this was a little foolish of her to do, yet she knew that this was the only way she herself had ever reacted to another. As Hermione struggled more and more her shouts became higher and higher pitched, and she soon dissolved into sobs. She no longer beat at her mentors arms, instead lying limp.
"Oh Hermione." Minerva felt tears rolling down her cheeks as she remembered how she had felt all those years ago. She racked her brains to think of something to make her cub feel better, and found only one solution. Slowly and softly she started to recount her own tale, of how she had found her parents when she arrived home from her last year of Hogwarts. She told her how she had felt; the guilt, the anger, the urge to punish those who caused her so much pain. Hermione listened with rapt attention, holding her tighter and tighter as she went along with her story. Tears rolled liked rivers down her face, and her wide eyes stared into nothing. Minerva waited with bated breath.
"…Did you blame yourself?" her top lip trembled.
"At first, yes."
"But it wasn't your fault! How could you have known? Or even helped?"
"People deal with grief in different ways Hermione. You have no reason to feel guilty for what happened either, but the irrational guilt is still there."
She tried to turn away. "You don't understand… I taunted Bellatrix, I got away. That's why she went after them; revenge."
"But you could not have known, you protected them as best you could. What were you supposed to do, let yourself die?"
"…"
"Hermione, I can quite honestly tell you that if you had died, we would not have won this war. The three of you are part of a whole, and I don't think Harry or Ronald would have survived if you had died. You didn't know Bellatrix could track them, you didn't even know that she would go after them."
"But it wasn't good enough! I tried so hard! It was all for nothing! NOTHING! Now, thanks to my 'ingenious' idea, my parents died not even remembering me! Not just them, but all those poor people on their street! Because of me! Merlin, they probably don't even remember me now. Those poor children…" Her thoughts were scattered, inconsistent, and as she hugged her knees and rocked back and forth, Minerva held her calmly.
At a loss for what to do, Minerva discreetly took out her wand and muttered a quick charm. "Expecto Patronum!" She waited for her message to be received and smoothed the girl's hair comfortingly. Within minutes two boys came bursting through the door.
"Hermione!" Minerva watched silently as the two boys swept up their best girl in a loving embrace. Weeping, Hermione's walls started to crumble, and she let every fear and insecurity out. Their head of house watched as the boys listened with compassion and understanding before enveloping her in a hug and closing their eyes. Slightly in awe of the sheer strength of their bond, Minerva soon felt like she was intruding.
Quietly slipping out she closed the door, but not before hearing a sniffle and "Don't worry Hermione, we'll get through this. Together. As a family." Her heart burst with pride. Looking down upon the touching scene Minerva McGonagall made a vow that no matter what would happen, she would personally make sure that those three would be as safe and happy in their future as possible. 'And Merlin help anyone who tries to stop me.'