And Nobody Came
By: Hermione L. Granger
Disclaimer: Don't own any of these characters.
A/N: Wow this is depressing. But I really like it, and it's SOMETHING by me.
Stepping out of the car, the young woman watched her new black shoes hit the muddy ground. Normally she would've walked around it. But not today. Pushing the dark vial out of her face, Hermione lit a cigarette. She left her car unlocked as she headed towards the Great Hall.
She held her head high, and pretend not to notice the whispers. Didn't they know she heard them?
"That's her, with the bushy brown hair."
"Move out of the way, that's her."
"My, my, she hasn't been sleeping, has she?"
How stupid did they think she was? She had finished top in her class, her OWLS and NEWTS had been the highest since 1876. She knew who she was.
It was the row of flaming hair that surprised her. For the first time that day, she let a tear fall down her cheek. Brushing it away impatiently, she took another drag of her cigarette, flicking ashes on the carpet floor. She wasn't going to cry today. She had cried enough in the past week.
She walked to the front, not talking nor making eye contact with anyone, save Molly Weasley. She was good enough to sit up there with the family. Heck, she was better than them. And she wanted Molly to know that.
The rest of the crowds had followed her in, and Dumbldore stood.
"Friends, classmates, family members. We are here today to honor two wonderful men, Ron Weasley and Harry Potter." She had to smile at that. Ron would've rubbed that in Harry's face for a while. "Both men died fighting the greatest evil, and both defeated it. More than anything, we must remember..."
At this she did remember. She remembered the troll, she remember Moaning Myrtle, she remember hearing that the boys weren't as dumb as she took them to be. She remember fighting with them, she remember loving them. The flight with Buckbeak, finding out who Scabbers really was. The tears of the fourth year, wondering if Harry was alive, dead. The fights about Krum.
She could remember the weddings, the funerals they attended. Watching Ron break down crying when Ginny was hurt, their reactions when they found she was dating Draco. Making love to Ron like it was the last thing she would ever do.
Her memories were cut short by the fact that people were standing. Double coffins were being lowered into the great hall along with Godric Gryffindor, Rowena Ravenclaw, Helga Hufflepuff, and Salazar Slytheren. Still, no tears fell from her chocolate brown eyes. When the final piece of dirt had landed on the coffins, the guests remained standing, waiting for the family to exit first. She never gave them a chance. Head held high, she walked out of there like she owned the place.
She didn't stop so people could come console her. She didn't want consolation. She wanted her friends.
Knowing this place like the back of her hand, she didn't stop. Climbing the steps, she thanked the stars that Neville was a doctor. It had all been too easy.
The door creaked as she entered. Moaning Myrtle could be heard sobbing in her toilet. The sound was comforting now.
The lid to the pills came off easily, and she began to shove them into her mouth, not bothering to count. Her brains couldn't help her now. Ironically, she began to think,
'Isn't this the part where Harry and Ron burst in, telling me it was all a joke? That they weren't really dead?'
And they never came.
Swallowing more pills, desperately now,
'Even their ghosts, aren't they suppose to show up and tell me that I'm strong enough to go on without them, that I'll live.'
And they never came.
Things were becoming blurry now. Myrtle had stopped sobbing, zooming off the who knows where,
'Ginny? Fred, George, any of them? Aren't they suppose to be comforting me, telling they'll help me through this?'
And they never came.
But she didn't want their comfort. No, she wanted to be with Ron and Harry. Swallowing the last of the pills, she realized there was no turing back.
'Anybody? God, I'd take Molly Weasley now. I don't want to die. No, not anymore. Oh God. I'm dying next to the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. Where a good Mudblood should die. But I don't want to. I want to live now. If somebody'd just come!'
And nobody came.
By: Hermione L. Granger
Disclaimer: Don't own any of these characters.
A/N: Wow this is depressing. But I really like it, and it's SOMETHING by me.
Stepping out of the car, the young woman watched her new black shoes hit the muddy ground. Normally she would've walked around it. But not today. Pushing the dark vial out of her face, Hermione lit a cigarette. She left her car unlocked as she headed towards the Great Hall.
She held her head high, and pretend not to notice the whispers. Didn't they know she heard them?
"That's her, with the bushy brown hair."
"Move out of the way, that's her."
"My, my, she hasn't been sleeping, has she?"
How stupid did they think she was? She had finished top in her class, her OWLS and NEWTS had been the highest since 1876. She knew who she was.
It was the row of flaming hair that surprised her. For the first time that day, she let a tear fall down her cheek. Brushing it away impatiently, she took another drag of her cigarette, flicking ashes on the carpet floor. She wasn't going to cry today. She had cried enough in the past week.
She walked to the front, not talking nor making eye contact with anyone, save Molly Weasley. She was good enough to sit up there with the family. Heck, she was better than them. And she wanted Molly to know that.
The rest of the crowds had followed her in, and Dumbldore stood.
"Friends, classmates, family members. We are here today to honor two wonderful men, Ron Weasley and Harry Potter." She had to smile at that. Ron would've rubbed that in Harry's face for a while. "Both men died fighting the greatest evil, and both defeated it. More than anything, we must remember..."
At this she did remember. She remembered the troll, she remember Moaning Myrtle, she remember hearing that the boys weren't as dumb as she took them to be. She remember fighting with them, she remember loving them. The flight with Buckbeak, finding out who Scabbers really was. The tears of the fourth year, wondering if Harry was alive, dead. The fights about Krum.
She could remember the weddings, the funerals they attended. Watching Ron break down crying when Ginny was hurt, their reactions when they found she was dating Draco. Making love to Ron like it was the last thing she would ever do.
Her memories were cut short by the fact that people were standing. Double coffins were being lowered into the great hall along with Godric Gryffindor, Rowena Ravenclaw, Helga Hufflepuff, and Salazar Slytheren. Still, no tears fell from her chocolate brown eyes. When the final piece of dirt had landed on the coffins, the guests remained standing, waiting for the family to exit first. She never gave them a chance. Head held high, she walked out of there like she owned the place.
She didn't stop so people could come console her. She didn't want consolation. She wanted her friends.
Knowing this place like the back of her hand, she didn't stop. Climbing the steps, she thanked the stars that Neville was a doctor. It had all been too easy.
The door creaked as she entered. Moaning Myrtle could be heard sobbing in her toilet. The sound was comforting now.
The lid to the pills came off easily, and she began to shove them into her mouth, not bothering to count. Her brains couldn't help her now. Ironically, she began to think,
'Isn't this the part where Harry and Ron burst in, telling me it was all a joke? That they weren't really dead?'
And they never came.
Swallowing more pills, desperately now,
'Even their ghosts, aren't they suppose to show up and tell me that I'm strong enough to go on without them, that I'll live.'
And they never came.
Things were becoming blurry now. Myrtle had stopped sobbing, zooming off the who knows where,
'Ginny? Fred, George, any of them? Aren't they suppose to be comforting me, telling they'll help me through this?'
And they never came.
But she didn't want their comfort. No, she wanted to be with Ron and Harry. Swallowing the last of the pills, she realized there was no turing back.
'Anybody? God, I'd take Molly Weasley now. I don't want to die. No, not anymore. Oh God. I'm dying next to the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. Where a good Mudblood should die. But I don't want to. I want to live now. If somebody'd just come!'
And nobody came.