A/N: This idea is rather abstract, and occurred to me while after I'd seen an X-Files episode. The setting is post Book Seven.

Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, I would not be typing a Disclaimer. Also, I do not own the beginning concept, which belongs to Chris Carter, I think... Or maybe to Dana Scully, which ever you prefer!




All Things


~*~Time passes in moments - moments which rushing pass defines the path of a life just as surely as they lead towards its end. How rarely do we stop to examine that path - to see the reasons why all things happen. To consider whether the path we take in life is our own making, or simply one into which we drift with eyes closed. But what if we could stop, pause to take stock, of each precious moment before it passes. Might we then see the endless forks in the road that have shaped a life? And seeing those choices, choose another path? ~*~

Hermione sat near the edge of the lake, curled up with her knees against her chest, staring out into the still waters of the lake. There were distant voices in the background, but she couldn't here them - and didn't particularly want to. Who cared what they were saying? Not she.

She leaned her head into her knees, swaying slightly with a gentle breeze that rippled across the lake. It cooled the sweat that ran down her cheek, the sweat that mingled with the tears.

Her wand lay forgotten beside her, echoes of spells cast forcefully not long before hidden in its core. The tears in her robes were forgotten, the blood and pain on her was ignored. Hermione could have cared less about the soot and ash in her hair, or the blood on her face and hands.

Two weeks ago, during the NEWT exams, she would have cared. She would have cared about the many rules she had broken, about how awful she looked - now she didn't. Now, it didn't matter.

Behind her, wizards and witches rushed in and out of Hogwarts Castle, which had remained intact during the fighting, despite the many duels and deaths that had taken place inside. The outside was gray, but the inside was red, and yet, the sky was blue.

Voldemort had attacked with every force, magical and physical, brutally attacking the students, trying to take the last stronghold in the magical world.

Had he succeeded?

No, thought Hermione, bitterly. No. Our hero came through. A fresh tear trickled down her face.

The magnitude of the battle was unimaginable, it seemed. Where had Voldemort produced so many allies? Where had they come from - where will they go? Who will identify the bodies of those we did not know about?

Dark against light, good against evil. Is that where the line was drawn? thought Hermione. Is that what it comes down to? Those who use Dark spells and powers, and those who don't?

Then I am as evil as those. Then we all are.

Not Harry,
said a voice in her head. Never Harry.

As a whole, the school had risen together, and joined against Voldemort's dark army, ringing together in one voice, we will not go peacefully into the night! We will stand for everything that is moral and right!

Voldemort had cast down the first on rush of students, voices falling swiftly into the night. Had that been their fate? Had that been their choice? Their path, inevitable to come?

Hermione looked down at her hands. And had it been her fate to bring down those others? The hooded masks with no names that came to challenge her, as a Muggle-born, her right to become a witch? Had that been the road that she had stepped down from the start?

Her mind seemed to travel in reverse, going back, over the events of the last seven years. Taking the NEWTS, feverishly studying all night with Harry and Ron in the common room... Ron... Looking through thousands, no millions of books in the library, for the answers that would never be there... Visiting the Burrow over Christmas, the Order's failings with Voldemort... Harry and the Prophecy... the Prophecy that would come to pass, never fail... Had it? Do they all have to happen? Seers can't be trusted.... Where had all the days gone? Summer, spring, winter, fall - summer, spring, winter, fall... The Death Room... OWLS... snakes... Who to trust? Who to tell... Summer, spring, winter, fall... Train rides... endless train rides...

Did this all begin on a train ride? Back... Way back...

Have you seen a toad? Neville's lost one.

I know all about you, of course - I got a few extra books for background reading...

Was that where it had started? On the train, because I met them? Or would it have been different if I'd been less brave, wiser... Meant for Ravenclaw... I should have asked the Hat to put me there... I'd never have met them...

No... Even further back... the letter... Born Muggle... I was normal... I could have been normal... never known about any of this...

Unless... There was no avoiding it...

Every path we take...

Forks in the road, bends, winds, detours...

They all lead to the same moment...

He's gone... Both of them are gone....

Is the prophecy fulfilled? Was it ever true to begin with?

Do I want to believe?

I want to believe...



The voice from behind her shook her thoughts, jarred her. She looked up at the tall redhead standing beside her, cuts and bruises marring his face.

Is there any choice?

Hermione whispered, rocking back and forth slightly, still curled up in the same ball she had been in the whole time. Is it... Is it...?
Ron sat down on the ground next to her, and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, resting his head on her. Is it true? he said, softly. Yes, Mione. It's true. They're both gone. It had to happen that way - there wasn't another way.

Another way...

Hermione sobbed. There had to be, Ron. It shouldn't have been this way - this shouldn't have happened.

We didn't choose it to happen, Hermione. It just does. It had to. There are reasons all things happen.

She sniffed, and leaned into him. But why? Why does it have to happen?

Ron sighed. The only person who truly knew, and understood why he had to, isn't here. He knew, Hermione. He knew, and he was ready. Nothing happens on accident.





Would you have chosen this same life, had you known?

Ron paused, staring over the waters. Would any of us have? Would any of us have wanted it to be us? No. But it is. And I wonder if every single one of those paths, led to this single moment, no matter how hard you tried to avoid them. We're not the same people we were seven years ago, Hermione. We've changed. But this is who we are, and we were meant to meet. We all were.

THE END

A/N: Like I said at the beginning, rather abstract. I'd really appreciate it if you would take five seconds of your time and review it for me, it'd mean a lot. The strange workings of my mind may calm down with a bit of feedback!