By Way of Sorrow
A/N: If you recognize it, it belongs to JK Rowling. The story title is taken from the song of the same name by Cry Cry Cry. This story will eventually be SS/Hr, but not until after she graduates, in the interest of cutting down on the squick factor.
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It was over.
The entire school sat in the Great Hall and watched, wordlessly, as The Boy Who Lived limped through the huge doors. He was covered with blood, already starting to show bruises, and his wand arm was twisted at an abnormal angle. He looked like hell, Hermione thought, but he was alive. Harry was alive, and that meant Voldemort was dead. He had to be.
As if acting by the orders of a collective mind, the professors, led by Albus Dumbledore, rushed towards the injured boy who was trying to walk. Hermione tried to go to him as well, but Ron grabbed her arm and held her back. "Dumbledore's got him," he hissed. Indeed, the aged wizard had just reached his student when Harry collapsed into his waiting arms.
Pandemonium broke out through the room. Students stood to get a better look, talking loudly, speculating on what had happened. A stretcher was summoned and Harry was levitated onto it. He had just enough time to speak a few words and press a wand into the Headmaster's hand before he was whisked away to the hospital wing by Madame Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall. Dumbledore glanced at the wand, pocketed it, and motioned to Professor Snape. The men exchanged a few words and the Potions Master left the Great Hall with a sweep of his black robes.
The Headmaster stood in the middle of the room, surrounded by the other professors, and spoke the words the students had been hoping to hear since the news of You-Know-Who's return.
"Voldemort is dead."
The Great Hall erupted in cheers. Hermione and Ron stood still, holding their breath, waiting to hear about Harry. Knowing this, Dumbledore caught their eye and smiled before raising his voice once more. "We expect Mr. Potter to make a full recovery."
Only then could they release their breath and join in with the rest of the students. As Ron swept her into a massive hug, Hermione let her guard down for the first time since coming to Hogwarts and sobbed into her best friend's shoulder. Finally, it was over.
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It was later that night when Hermione finally crept into the hospital wing. Ron and the other Gryffindors had long since gone to sleep in the dorms, having been told by their Head of House that no one was to see Harry until the next morning. Hermione, however, found that she couldn't sleep and was sick of pacing the common room, waiting for the tiredness to overtake her. She hoped to convince Madam Pomfrey for a peek at Harry, or at least a sleep draught.
Madam Pomfrey was nowhere to be found. Hermione peeked into a few of the rooms before noticing the closed door at the end of the hall. She was half way there when the back of her neck prickled and she spun around, guilty brown eyes meeting expressionless black ones.
"Good evening, Miss Granger. Might I inquire why you are out of bed and in the hospital wing when you were told to wait until morning?" Professor Snape glared her, arms folded over his chest.
Hermione shifted her weight from foot to foot and bit her bottom lip. "I'm sorry Professor," she whispered. "I couldn't sleep. I just..." she looked at the stone floor, waiting for the house points to come off.
Snape regarded her thoughtfully. "I understand," he said curtly. "Come with me." He moved past her, heading for the closed door. Hermione could hardly believe her luck. Was Snape really going to let her see Harry? She hurried to keep up with the professor.
He tapped the door with his wand, muttering something under his breath, and the door swung open soundlessly. He strode in and Hermione followed, seeing Pomfrey and Dumbledore standing over the sleeping form in the bed.
"Ah, Professor," Dumbledore greeted. "Do you have the potion?" Snape handed the Headmaster a small vial of liquid and gestured to Harry, who was tossing and turning in the bed, sheets tangled around his legs. "How is he?"
"Still having nightmares, the poor boy," Madam Pomfrey answered, smoothing her hand over Harry's forehead. Hermione blinked back tears at the sight. His arm was bandaged, but the medi-witch had already healed the other wounds and bruises. Even with as healthy as he seemed, Harry looked so anguished, even in sleep, that she wondered if he'd ever recover.
"Miss Granger?" Dumbledore's voice cut through her thoughts.
"Sorry, Headmaster. I didn't hear you," she said, turning from her best friend. Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled as he smiled at her. "That's quite all right my dear. I said that Harry will be fine, in time. I'm sure you and Mr. Weasley will make sure of that."
Hermione smiled shyly at Dumbledore. "Thank you, sir." He patted her hand fondly and said, "I must get to my office now. I expect the Ministry will have plenty of work waiting for me, and you should get back to bed. Mr. Potter will be awake in the morning, and I suspect he will be well enough for a visit from his friends."
Snape nodded. "I'll escort Miss Granger back to her dorm, Headmaster." Dumbledore looked once more at Harry then left the room quietly. Snape waved a slim hand toward Madam Pomfrey, who was uncapping the potion he brought in. "Make sure he takes all of it." She slid an arm under Harry and lifted him slightly. "Of course, Severus. Here you are, Harry." She waited until her patient swallowed then lowered him carefully back to the bed. "Now, shoo. This boy needs his rest." She bustled Snape and Hermione out of the room and closed the door behind them.
Hermione walked quietly with Snape toward her dorm, lost in her own thoughts. He spoke only when she was about to head up the staircase that led to Gryffindor. "This way, Miss Granger." She shot him a questioning look, but he volunteered nothing more. He led her to the dungeons, but passed the potions classroom, stopping at a room she had never seen before. The door was ornamented by two serpents, innerwined. The Potions Master opened it, then gestured for Hermione to enter as well.
The room was unlike any she had seen before. It was filled with elegant, yet comfortable looking furniture, plush green carpeting, and dark mahogany wood. Bookshelves lined one wall, and a cheerful fire crackled in the hearth. Soft strains of music floated through the air. Hermione stopped, shocked. "That's Beethoven," she said, wonderingly.
Snape raised an eyebrow before turning his attention to filling a teacup. "Must you always point out the obvious, Miss Granger? I am aware of what it is."
She blushed, but accepted the cup her offered. "I'm sorry. That's the first Muggle music I've heard at Hogwarts."
"Sit down Miss Granger. That chair is fine." She obeyed, and Snape settled himself across from her on the sofa with his own teacup. "Most wizards are tone deaf. Beethoven and other Muggle composers are preferable to that yowling that wizards produce."
Hermione smiled and sipped her tea. "This piece is lovely." Snape nodded once. "Moonlight Sonata. One of his best." They sat in silence, drinking the tea and listening, until the song changed. Hermione placed her empty cup on the table and studied her hands. Surely this was the professor's private rooms. The knowledge that she was occupying the space should have made her vaguely uncomfortable, but it didn't. Being here with Snape was almost... comforting.
"I placed a mild sedative in the tea. It will help you sleep. I'll take you back to your room now." Snape set his cup aside and stood up. "Thank you Professor," she said quietly. He looked at her, but didn't say anything until they got back to Gryffindor tower. She gave the Fat Lady the password, and started to climb through, when she heard his voice behind her once more.
"Ten points from Gryffindor for a student out of bed after curfew."
Hermione bit her lip to keep from smiling. It was Snape, after all. What did she expect?
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It took several weeks for the aftermath of Voldemort's fall to play out. Harry had recovered beautifully, with the exception of a lingering cough that even Madam Pomfrey couldn't treat. Classes were disrupted often with funerals for the deceased- almost everyone at Hogwarts had lost someone during the war, but the number of casualties from the last battle were astounding. Harry and Hermione flanked a pale faced but silent Ron at the funeral of Charlie Weasley two days after Harry finally left the hospital wing. Mrs. Weasley clutched at the arm of Bill, who held her upright with the help of Percy. Arthur stood like a statue, silent tears streaming down his thin face. Fred and George, without a joke for the first time ever, comforted Ginny. Hermione squeezed Ron's hand, reminded of the funeral of her own parents the year before. After the services, Arthur sought out Harry and shook his hand, thanking him. Harry himself cried then, telling Arthur he wished he could have ended it sooner, wished he could have saved Charlie.
After that, there were funerals for Seamus Finnegan's mother, Katie Bell's parents, Roger Davies, and countless others, all of which Harry, Ron, and Hermione attended. Hermione knew Harry felt responsible for the deaths, and she and Ron both tried their hardest to convince Harry that he had done more than anyone to make the wizarding world safe for the survivors. She knew that intellectually Harry understood, but emotionally was another matter altogether.
Power was shifting in the ministry as well. People were so angry that Fudge had tried to hide Voldemort's return that he was forced to step down. His position was offered to Arthur Weasley, but he turned it down, preferring to stay in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Department. After many meetings and several different candidates, Percy Weasley got his wish. He became the youngest ever Minister of Magic, with the full support of Albus Dumbledore.
The Department of Magical Law Enforcement was working overtime, sending Aurors and hit wizards over the globe to capture who was left of the Death Eaters. The Slytherins were unusually subdued as Voldemort's supporters were rounded up one by one and sentenced to Azkaban. Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy were among the first to be captured. To the surprise of the entire school, except perhaps Professor Snape and Dumbledore, when Draco received the news he let out a huge breath and a genuine smile crossed his face. For the first time in Draco Malfoy's life, he was free.
Under the influence of Veritaserum, several of the Death Eaters gave Aurors the location of Peter Pettigrew's hiding place. With his capture, Minister Weasley issued a full pardon of Sirius Black and gave him a position at the Ministry. Sirius became the head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, which had gone unfilled since Barty Crouch Sr.'s death. During Sirius's first few weeks on the job, Percy could often be found instructing Sirius on important matters, such as cauldron thickness. To his credit, Sirius took the advice in stride and he and the Minister became fast friends. The pardon allowed Sirius to purchase a small home in Hogsmeade which included a room for his godson, of whom he was given full custody.
Gregory Goyle, along with Vincent Crabbe, were not happy about their fathers' capture. The elder Crabbe and Goyle, every bit as dim as their sons, revealed to the ministry that Voldemort had been able to recruit many werewolves to his cause by means of a potion that cured them of their malady. They admitted that the potion was similar to the Wolfsbane in that it turned the werewolf into a harmless dog, but instead of being ingested every full moon, it needed to be taken only once. Instead of the pardon they were hoping for in exchange for this knowledge, they were sentenced after having given the ingredients for the cure. Dumbledore quickly sent for Remus Lupin, the potion was administered, and the school had its favorite Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher back.
The Daily Prophet fawned over Harry, much to his chagrin. Finally, to set the record straight, he agreed to one, and only one, interview, on the condition that it not be sensationalized. When he discovered that Rita Skeeter had been sent to write the article, he almost backed out, but grimly kept his promise, silently vowing to hex to inventive reporter if the terms of the interview were not met. To give credit where it was due, when it was published it was the first Rita Skeeter article that didn't skew the facts. Harry suspected it was because Hermione sat beside him during the interview, glaring at Rita and holding a small glass jar the entire time.
Finally, life began to get back to normal, or as normal as life can get after a major war, for both the wizarding world and the three seventh year heroes. Classes resumed their normal schedules, Hermione drove everyone nuts with her franticness over the NEWTs, Ron overcame his sorrow over Charlie's death enough to aggravate Hermione about her study habits ("But the NEWTs are still 6 months away!"), and slowly, Harry's eyes started to lose the haunted look they'd had since the Triwizard Tournament at the end of fourth year.
It was during this new fragile peace that disaster planted yet another seed.