You know how it Ends, Everybody Dies…
Chapter One: Memory Is a Diary
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Nope. Also semi-inspired by the movie How to Deal.
Hermione woke with a throbbing pain in her head. Her fingers smoothly crawled up into her hair and massaged her scalp. Behind her shut eyes bright lights flashed angrily at her. She groaned and sat up carefully opening her eyes. The starkness of her room assaulted her and she lay back down, her hands over her face. The pain in her head was causing her to feel ill. She groaned and turned to her side raising her knees to her stomach.
Those fingers now moved from her scalp to right above her eyebrows, lightly pressing. What was this headache, and so early in the morning too? Hermione had not drank last night, her blood pressure would have no reason to be low, she wasn't having her monthly…it was just an inconvenient headache to wake her early in the morning.
There was another peculiar feeling surrounding her body like a heavy cloak. She didn't want to move, because if she moved she felt that would forget something important that she needed to remember. She had that feeling when one dreamt something extraordinary, but could not remember it. Attempting to sit up again, Hermione was far more successful this time around. She swung her feet out of bed and glanced out her window, wishing she had shut the blinds the night before. The sky was a bright blue, but the tree top by her widow was blowing violently, the small leaf buds clinging for survival. Slowly she rose and shuffled to the bathroom to pee, grabbing furniture to keep her-self upright on the way.
While brushing her teeth Hermione had a weird sensation run through her hand and into her head; it felt like a rough tug. She looked up into her mirror. A disgruntled looking girl stared back at her; hair wild and cheeks pale. Something was lingering right before her brain, just out of her reach but she could almost sense the coming thought. There was something she needed to remember…
She shook her head and rinsed her mouth. The pain in her head was causing her to be absentminded. Hermione placed her toothbrush next to Oliver's, in the cup by the sink, and sighed deeply. She opened the medicine cabinet and took two Tylenol with the hope that they would work. The house was cleared of headache potions; she had thrown them all away last week as most had expired. Hermione's sunrise bleariness cleared and yesterday came rushing back.
Oliver had left yesterday; sat on a muggle plane to fly to America and rally support for the war against the death eaters. Perhaps that was why she had woken with this strange feeling.
"You're leaving?" Hermione whispered looking down at her feet, trying to hide her tears from him. The dust in the bright sunlight flew before her eyes like the tiny white specks in a black and white movie.
Oliver gently lifted her face with his fingers, as Hermione gazed into his warm brown eyes she felt even closer to tears than before, "I'm doing this for everyone Hermione. We need all of the support we can get, and America may be willing to supply that support." he explained sweetly as his fingers traced her jaw line, Hermione melted into his touch.
Oliver was trying to memorize her face as best he could. There was no knowing when he would return and it was killing him. But for Hermione's sake he had to appear casual and calm. Hermione was beside herself already, if he showed any trace of misery she would have broken down completely.
People were walking past them in the airport wheeling their suitcases behind them, talking animatedly, all were excited for their trips. Hermione felt none of their joy, only worry and loneliness crept upon her. They had just moved in together, after three years of dating, things were moving ahead at full speed. Hermione loved Oliver with all her heart, it was impossible to imagine life without him by her side; especially now since she had been looking forward to living with him.
"Do you know when you'll be back?" she asked placing her hands on Oliver's chest; the coarseness of his wool sweater grazed her palms causing them to itch. Hermione bit her lip and willed her voice to not tremble or heaven forbid, break.
"I'm not sure Hermione, it could be anywhere from six months to…who knows?" he said with a frown.
Hermione nodded tearfully, "I'm sorry, I'm really trying to not cry. I should be seeing you off with a smile, not with tears. I'm being horribly selfish, I just want you to stay," she whispered looking around at the passing people "But you should be excited!" she added with a trembling sigh "Going to America, new culture, fun times, a chance to do something for the Order…" she hiccupped looking out the large glass wall to her right and blinking away her tears feverishly. Planes were rolling around, getting ready and heading to their terminals. The sky was a bright blue and the grass just beginning to green in the fields out far.
"I am a little excited, I've never been on a muggle plane" Oliver grinned "This will be the first time I've flown without a broom. It's so weird."
"Oh, it's not too exciting really. You always get stuck between two annoying people when you travel alone. You can't get up to move around much. Can't even see the damn movie most times and if you can see it then your headphones don't work," her voice began to break with the strain of held tears "Then the people beside you will want to talk to you… It's a nine hour flight and you start to get annoyed and you want to shoot yourself in the head before you spend another miserable second…" Hermione ranted on in desperation. Her voice had reached a breaking pitch and her hand movements have become frantic.
"Hermione" Oliver said with a lopsided smile cutting her off, "Don't worry. I'll live. The moment I land I will owl you right away and tell you that I have survived."
"I wish you could appeariateback once in a while or even portkey" Hermione whispered looking up at him. Oliver's sandy hair was always windswept and his eyes crinkled happily. Why couldn't she smile like that? Why was there this horrible feeling of dread that plagued her relentlessly?
"You know how dangerous it is to appeariate" Oliver said with a laugh "I could seriously splinch myself. And I can't use a portkey until the U.S Wizarding Parliament allows it. Do you want me dead?"
"Of course not! And…I know; I don't want you to endanger yourself. I wish you could have been sent to Canada, they're so much nicer there" she said with a moan.
"Have you been?" Oliver asked.
"Yes, I went to Quebec. It felt like exactly like England. The streets, the people, the ministry is so much more similar to ours. You'd have a much easier job there and you could have come home earlier. The U.S will not be swayed so easily, especially since they have no connections with our Ministry…" Hermione said sadly.
"Oh Hermione-"
"- Anyway I'll be fine so long as you write me. And…maybe you could visit me if you don't come home before Christmas?" Hermione asked hopefully.
Oliver grabbed her tightly around the waist and pulled her to him. Hermione placed her cheek against his chest and felt his scratchy sweater once again; she would not feel it for a long time to come. All of her hidden feelings began to bubble over and splutter out of her lips. "I really don't want you to leave" she wept desperately clutching his shirt. She couldn't say that she was worried he wouldn't come back alive. But the fear was there, in her chest.
"I don't want to leave you either Hermione," he said softly, "but this is how things go... I love you, you know that. I will come back to you, no matter what" he promised. Oliver pulled back and reached into his pocket. "I have something for you." he said pulling out a box.
It was a square red velvet box. Hermione's heart leapt with anticipation and she stepped away from him, placing her hands over her mouth. "What is it?" she asked wiping her tears away.
Oliver smiled at how quickly a girl's mood could change with the expectation of a present. He watched her eyes brighten and a faint smile trace her lips. This was how he wanted to remember Hermione, with a bright smile. "Here." he said handing it to her.
Hermione took the box and opened it. A beautiful white gold ring sat inside, an oval cut sapphire framed with little round diamonds sat in the middle of the band. "Merlin…" Hermione whispered her lips cracking into an insanely wide smile. Oliver took the box from her hands and took the ring out. He then grabbed her left hand and placed the beautiful ring on her ring finger.
"I will be back Hermione." he repeated seriously.
Hermione smiled and nodded. "I love you" she whispered hugging him tightly around the waist.
Oliver held her just as tightly "Kiss me before I leave Hermione".
There was a clicking noise.
Hermione frowned and leaned against the bathroom counter as she looked at the ring on her finger. What happened next? She couldn't really remember. She must have been so shocked that it was all a blur. Oliver must have got on the plane and left. And now he was already in America somewhere.
The ring twinkled at her. Had he proposed? Oliver had never said the words but he had placed the ring in the proper place. What did it mean?
She pushed off the counter and walked back to her room to get dressed. Hermione couldn't just stop life now that Oliver had left. He had made her promise to not pine away. He had said that if her marks suffered he would not visit at all. Hermione knew he had been teasing, but the message was important. She grabbed her uniform and began to dress. Hermione had class in two hours.
"Hermione? How are you?" asked a concerned Harry Potter. His long hair was a mess falling in his eyes, pushed behind his ears where it was convenient and in some areas sticking up straight. He pushed back his bangs to peer at Hermione anxiously with those bright green eyes. There was an odd chiseled edge to his features, discomfort, worry, uncertainty, which was it? Having watched her walk into class that morning he hadn't known what to think. Most of the class had watched her carefully, uncertainly, had it even been the real Hermione Granger?
Hermione looked up from her book with a puckered brow, "I'm fine Harry, why do you ask?" She put a bookmark into her page and shut the book placing it down on the table.
"I didn't expect you to come to school today" he said honestly. . Hermione didn't like his tone, there was amazement but it was underlined with concern. Did he expect her to have stayed at home and sobbed? Did he think she was so weak? She had gone along with him for every damn adventure, mission, and task; never once had she stayed back. This could not have been a question of her strength.
"Uh" Hermione said shortly, doing no more than acknowledging him. Harry did not respond to her grunt. He continued to stare at her in true bewilderment. Hermione sighed and leaned over to him across the table, "Listen, I know Oliver left, but he told me there was no reason to act like a little child and sulk. He'll be back soon enough" Hermione said confidently. Hell, she felt no such confidence, but she didn't need to parade her worry about Oliver. It was her concern and she didn't want to bother everyone with it.
Harry's mouth opened into a small 'o'. He looked around the empty library and then turned back to Hermione with wrinkled brows, "Hermione, what happened yesterday at the airport?" he asked carefully, something was not right…
"What? You were there Harry. You saw what happened. I said goodbye to Oliver, he got on that plane and left me behind" she said sadly.
"Right" Harry whispered forlornly, "You're exactly right" he said looking back to his assignment.
Ginny stood at the sink and washed the dishes left after a giant Weasley dinner. Piles of dirty dishes surrounded her. Her beautiful apartment looked like a pigsty after all of the family had left. She couldn't go to bed until it was all cleaned up; it was a complex that derived from living with a herd of men. But tonight's dinner had been a gloomy and morbid affair. Lacking all of the usual talk and excitement, people came dressed in black with cute memories in their pockets. Hermione's absence had been noticeable. Ginny understood why Hermione had turned her down…that was, until Harry had just said those words a few seconds ago. "What do you mean?" she asked Harry with a confused smile.
"I mean exactly what I said. Hermione has totally blocked it out of her head. Yesterday at the airport; she fabricated her own memories. She's lying to herself Ginny. How am I supposed to tell her the truth?" Harry said biting his bottom lip.
"Blocked it?" Ginny asked skeptically. She didn't understand what Harry was going on about, perhaps it was because she wasn't really listening; admittedly, she was humoring him a little but pretending to listen.
"Yeah, I asked her what happened and she said Oliver got on that plane. Ginny, you were there…you saw what really happened" Harry said softly. He appeared to be deep in thought, a crinkle between his brows. Ginny hated this look; it always aroused imminent fear in her.
She turned off the water and wiped her shaky hands on her apron, really hearing Harry for the first time. "Oh Merlin" she whispered, "I went over to see her this morning, but I guess she had already left for school…I had assumed she had gone to her parents for a break or to grieve…I had no idea" Ginny said her eyes flicking about the living room in unease "So she really doesn't remember what happened yesterday? You know she doesn't remember?"
Harry nodded. He felt lost and helpless, how was he supposed to help his best friend when he was so weak? Hermione, rational Hermione, was being so irrational and Harry could not deal with this fact.
"Oh Harry" Ginny said tearfully. She ripped off her apron throwing it in the sink and began to pace the kitchen frantically. "Does everyone know that she doesn't remember?" she asked stopping suddenly and looking at him. She was still attempting to grasp what was really going on. How could Hermione not remember what had happened? Was it psychological? Was it due to her fall? But this was Hermione! She was the most mentally stable person Ginny knew, there was no way Hermione would stray from the truth, no matter how horrible it may be.
"Most people know but I can't tell everyone. Because we need to tell her Ginny! We have to tell Hermione, we can't have her going around not knowing!" Harry said in frustration "What about when the funeral comes around?" Harry asked with a quake in his voice.
Ginny collapsed against the counter; she placed her head on the cool marble and began to cry. She felt Harry behind her, his gentle hands on her back, "Oh Gin, what do we do…?" he asked.
"I don't want to tell her Harry…there must be a reason why her mind repressed this memory. Perhaps the shock of realizing what really happened will send her over the edge. Maybe her brain is trying to protect her from self-destructing. Can we afford to play with the possibility of hurting her more with the truth? Perhaps we should let it go. Maybe she knows. Maybe she's just being Hermione and avoiding the confrontation. He's dead. Oliver is dead, and she saw it. There's no way she couldn't know" Ginny said starting to confuse and contradict herself.
"She'll find out eventually Ginny. Someone will say something and it will jog that memory. It will come back to haunt her eventually. She can't live in her chosen fantasies, there's no time for that. Not when we are so close to war" Harry said reasonably.
"What now?" Ginny said.
"Do you think we should take her to St. Mungos'?" Harry asked.
"We'd need one hell of an excuse to get her to go" Ginny replied wretchedly.
They lapsed into thoughtful silence.
There was a clicking. Harry Potter heard it first. Like the running of shoes on a polished floor, just slightly louder. He didn't understand what it was. Looking around Harry noticed a few other people searching for the sound of the noise.
Then he realized what it was.
It wasn't clicking at all.
It was the sound of distant apparating.
"Shit" he whispered looking out the large window, he couldn't see anything though.
"Harry, what's wrong?" Ginny asked wiping her tears away. She had been watching the sweet goodbye between Oliver and Hermione. She would miss Oliver too; he was such a nice man and so good for Hermione.
"Gin, get your wand out" Harry said tersely his eyes flicking about.
"Why?" she asked in confusion turning to her left where Ron had already pulled out his own wand. "We're in a muggle airport" she said with a frown.
The giant windows that were the walls of the departure block shattered without warning.
Hermione sighed and threw down the bag onto her floor; It hit the hardwood with a thud, the latch coming undone and her books sliding out. Today had been such an odd day. In all of her classes people stared at her as though she had a horn coming from her forehead. But none of them dared say anything to her. Harry himself had even been acting oddly.
She walked into her living room pulling off her jacket and letting it fall to the floor. She hardly cared about staying neat. Her head was pounding and her heart was already aching with Oliver's absence. All Hermione wanted to do was to finish her last month of school and to start working. She was almost twenty; it was about time she began to work as a healer.
Oliver would be so proud when she wrote to him about graduation. He must have arrived by now in America, given the time difference it would have been morning there. Hermione wondered what Oliver would be doing, was he already hard at work, or was he going to take a day to collect himself and get over his jetlag? She groaned and lay down on the couch spreading her tight muscles. It had been a long day for her; assignments due, dealing with other people and her teachers had taken a lot out of her, and then Ginny had wanted her to come to dinner, Hermione would not have made it through the meal. She had just arrived home now anyway.
As she heard a pecking at her window, Hermione lurched off the couch and ran over to her living room window. She stared wide eyed at the pale owl on her windowsill. It was not Hedwig but Hermione knew no other white owl. She wondered if it was safe to open her window. These days one never knew what a possible attack was, and Hermione had to be doubly cautious. She opened the window slightly and allowed the owl to squeeze through. Hermione removed the parchment from the owl all the while trying to place who else had a white bird of her friends. The moment she removed the letter the owl squeezed back through the gap of her window and flew away. Hermione shut the window.
She took the parchment to her couch where she sat down and stared at it. Finally she resolved to open it. Hermione tore at the unfamiliar seal on the front and unfolded the parchment.
The memory represents to us not what we choose but what it pleases.
-Michel Eyquem de Montaigne
Hermione turned the paper over. There was nothing on the other side. That was all it said…who would write such a thing to her? She smiled and folded the paper back up. Oliver had sent this to her. He must have.
A/N: Please review. If you do I always feel more inspired to write. If you don't review, I'll just tease you forever and give you no updates. I would especially like reviews for the first chapter. Just tell me if it's good so far, and if you think the plot sucks then give me reason why. Thanks!
P.S. Thanks much to my beta Something Unreal
