(Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter & etc, nor the lyrics to
Tourniquet, or Imaginary by: Evanescence. Having said that, the plot is
mine. Mine all mine and you can't have it.)
Risen
(A sequel to Driven)
Hermione watched from where she stood at the edge of heaven.
Who could've guessed? She thought to herself. She had been watching over Ron, Harry-even Draco Malfoy before he had been murdered. Her abilities to feel resentment, even spite, had been relieved of her once she entered the glowing gates, smiling at St. Peter on her way in.
The one thing that amazed her most was that what she was sure was impossible was actually not. Every word that her mum and dad, Harry, Ron, yes, even Malfoy spoke could be heard from where she was. She could feel their pain as though it was her own, she could finally know what love really felt like.
She learned by watching Ron. He would spend hours at a time with her, talking to her, keeping her headstone clean. She felt every tear that hit the etched in name as though it was her own tear, her own cheek. He cried for her often, his crush suddenly turned into agonizing heartbreak when her life was forced to an abrupt end.
"I took care of things, love." He said to her, his flushed face twisted into something between fear and mourning- still. After all the time that had passed Ron Weasley had chosen not to move on like the others.
[I tried.
To kill the pain. But only brought more.]
She watched curiously from above as he pulled a strange book out of his satchel. With the spite and resentment went a few memories of Hogwarts- those that triggered twice aforementioned emotions. She would have otherwise immediately remembered the leather bound edition to be that from the many in the restricted section. Ron opened the book and flipped through the pages, trying to find the one he had bent the corner down on earlier.
Hermione shook her head. She felt somewhat delighted in that he had taken up reading after she had passed. It was a welcome, unexpected change from the normal boy of now seventeen.
"You should be out with your friends, playing Quidditch... dueling someone for practice." She said to him, a small sadness in her voice. She often replied to those that talked to her-knowing full well they would never hear her replies. She never cared about that, really. It was hoping that one day they just might that kept her with an open ear toward earth.
"It won't be long now, 'Mione."
[I lay dying.
And I'm pouring crimson Regret, and betrayal.
I'm Dying-]
"You know, Hermione. when the mediwizard came to us with what he knew as helplessness, telling us he couldn't save you, I died along with you."
[I'm Praying-]
"Every night since then I've prayed, just to speak to you. My housemates are sure I've gone on a religious kick- they would understand if I felt like telling them all."
[I'm Bleeding-]
Without another word, Ron pulled from the same satchel a strange looking blade. Its razor's edge was silver, the rest of the blade white gold. The handle was onyx, and mounted at the butt of the handle was a blood red ruby. He sliced through the earth over Hermione's body, and then with the same blade, made an incision at the palm of his hand. He watched silently as the blood dripped into the open earth, sinking down to the lid of the casket below.
"Oh dark spirits of the earth, arise and bring with you this girl- Snatched from the prime of her life by greed and hatred - I beg you and offer this day my life's blood."
Hermione's eyes widened as his words floated from his mouth to her ears. "Reanimation-Ron, no!"
Ron squeezed his hand into a fist, gritting his teeth, tolerating the pain, but not wanting to stop until the soil below him was saturated. He then thrust his hand in the air, his palm open for all to see.
"I speak these words in the name of the unholy. I beg thee again, spirits. She is to be risen-"
[I'm Screaming!]
Hermione looked around. Things had become dreary. Sunlight had turned to rain. She put her hands in front of her face and they began to fade as she was pulled from her rest into limbo. She began to experience a severe heat throughout her entire body- she screamed in misery as the heat increased and soon her hands were no longer visible, her vision beginning to fade to black.
[Am I too lost
To be saved?
Am I too lost?]
Ron was beginning to become distraught, his eyes filling with tears, his tears falling to the blood-soaked earth.
"Why am I damned to be without you?!" He cried out to her. The ritual had indeed failed.
"What are you doing?"
Ron jumped at the question, never having dared express emotion after Voldemort had tried to kill Ginny. The voice was not unfamiliar, as was suddenly his own and he turned, with some bitter expression and replied: "Nothing, Harry."
Harry grasped Ron's hand by the wrist, flipping it over to look at the soil- filled gash. "How is this nothing, Ron?" His brow furrowed, lips set into a thin line. "I have been standing here for longer than you know. Explain to me how doing this to yourself will bring you any closer to getting Hermione back?"
Ron jerked his hand from Harry's grip, not without great discomfort. "I don't have to explain anything to you." Ron glared and turned away, his expression softening. "You're right. I don't know what came over me."
Turning back, he gathered his things then headed toward the dormitories, not a word needing exchanged between the two of them.
Ron's heart was swollen with hurt, his pride dashed on the rocks that the 'fail proof' ritual hadn't worked... or so he was sure. Ron glanced back, turning his body toward the headstone for the day's final glance and he muttered a single word: Justice.
[My god, my tourniquet,
Return to me salvation.]
Hermione awoke in a profound darkness. She tried to pull in a breath, but none would come, only stagnant air from the decomposing coffin lining. She reached forward, her palms meeting sharply with the lid. She simply screamed, unable to form words, the ability had left her.
She became panicked and began to scratch at the lid, her fingertips bloodying. She screamed again, fear gripping her.
Ron had not yet continued toward the school when suddenly a muffled cry reached his ears. "Harry- Harry what was that?"
Harry turned back as well, seeing the horror develop in Ron's eyes as he let his imagination drag him around. "Ron. You need to come inside. This is affecting you severely and you need to get away from it for a while."
Ron's expression became frightened, excited. He ran back to the headstone and with his bare hands began to pull back at the earth, little by little. "Harry, please help me!"
Harry approached Ron with care, unsure of whether or not Ron's mental state had taken a turn for the very worst.
Hermione felt the coffin move as Ron's weight was applied to the earth above her. She scratched even more, unaware of the damage she had already done. She screamed again, and Ron stopped in his tracks.
He watched as Harry dropped to his knees. "She-you...Did you?"
Ron nodded, afraid of what his emotion would do to his reply.
"We need to go get Professor Snape." Harry supposed quietly.
Ron had begun digging again, completely unaware of what Harry had said. He went for the slit that he had made, reaching deep into it. It had become muddy from the ritual, the smell of the bloodied soil nothing less than nauseating. Oblivious to Ron, Harry rose from his place and ran across the grounds, into the school, through the hallways and to the Potions Classroom where at the moment a First Years class was being held. Harry came through the door and rushed up to the now annoyed (not to mention rudely interrupted) professor and began to make his plea.
"Sir..."
Without a change in expression, Severus Snape looked directly into the boy's eyes. "Mister Potter- Are you or are you not aware that I am in the midst of teaching a class? And are you also unaware that I am in the mood to take points?"
Harry blanched at his frankness, but continued. "Apologies sir, but something very urgent has happened at Hermione Granger's resting place that you need to come and see."
Professor Snape's expression became constricted and harsh. "You interrupted my class over a dead girl?"
The words stung like so many paper cuts, and Harry was going to regret his actions, but actions had to be taken. "Class- I apologize for the interruption, but I need to borrow Professor Snape for a moment. Please stay in your seats and open your books to chapter three. Please read until he gets back." Harry looked at him and sneered. "It's not that hard, now is it? Come."
[My god, my tourniquet, Return to me salvation.]
Harry dragged the professor by his cloak down the same route he had come before, then across the grounds to where Ron still knelt, digging.
"Listen Potter- if this is what you brought me here for you can just forget- what in bloody hell was that?" Professor Snape went a shade lighter as the scratching and screams reached his ears as well. "Mister Weasley, I'm going to have to ask you to move out of the way."
Ron looked back, furious at the interruptions. "Sod off!"
"Ron, he's here to help!" Harry replied, surprised. Ron obliged and backed away, but with much hesitance.
The two boys stood and watched from behind Professor Snape as he drew his wand and pointed it at the already disturbed soil. "Corpus Exhumen!" The earth above the coffin simply dissipated, and the coffin floated to come to rest directly beside the open grave.
Both Harry and Ron approached, stopped suddenly by a signal from Professor Snape. "I'd better do this. Stay where you are." Stealthily he opened the lid to the casket, stepping back suddenly. Hermione moved not one inch, however her struggle from within was wholly evident in the torn away casket lining. "We were too late, gentlemen."
It was Harry's promise to be a pillar of strength for her. He had promised to be strong for Ron, however as the events unfolded in front of him, the pillar began to crumble. A tear slid down his cheek.
[Will you remember me? Lost for so long-]
"We can't be-It's not fair!" Ron exclaimed. With his fists clenched, the wound split back open and began to seep again. He approached against the Professor's advice and touched her, brushing a strand of hair away from her forehead, leaving traces of blood when he touched her lips. He turned to look desperately at Harry, the desperation taking a quick turn to ire. He lunged at Harry, putting his hands at Harry's throat and pressing, his eyes ablaze. "All you had to do was trust me!!! That and listen!!! DO I BEG FOR MORE THAN THAT, POTTER?!"
Professor Snape watched for a moment, too shocked to respond immediately, however once his senses came back to him he quickly approached and pulled Ron from the nearly unconscious boy. "Mister Weasley, have you indeed lost your mind as all the students are assuming? Far, far be it for me to say anything to Potter's benefit, but you need to think about what you just did to him. Having said that, I feel dirty." Snape turned back toward the grave, his intentions to lay Hermione back to rest however, as is customary in this type of fiction, his plans were instantly and distinctly thwarted. "Where is she?" He mouthed to himself, staring blankly at the empty cask.
[Do you remember me? Lost for so long-]
Harry stood rubbing at his neck, his throat raw and swollen from the strength of Ron's hands. He looked at where Snape stood, noticing his movements to reverse anything were completely minimal. Ron stood with his back to everyone, suddenly bound and determined to exhaustively evaluate his behaviour.
"Professor?" Harry began, walking toward the unmoving man. "Professor what's the matter?"
Professor Snape looked at Harry, his eyes full of confusion. "Where did she go?" He asked, pointing at the empty casket.
Harry followed the long finger and looked straight into the coffin. He walked around to the other side, thinking she may have fallen into the grave, but that was as empty as the aforementioned.
*More To Come*
Risen
(A sequel to Driven)
Hermione watched from where she stood at the edge of heaven.
Who could've guessed? She thought to herself. She had been watching over Ron, Harry-even Draco Malfoy before he had been murdered. Her abilities to feel resentment, even spite, had been relieved of her once she entered the glowing gates, smiling at St. Peter on her way in.
The one thing that amazed her most was that what she was sure was impossible was actually not. Every word that her mum and dad, Harry, Ron, yes, even Malfoy spoke could be heard from where she was. She could feel their pain as though it was her own, she could finally know what love really felt like.
She learned by watching Ron. He would spend hours at a time with her, talking to her, keeping her headstone clean. She felt every tear that hit the etched in name as though it was her own tear, her own cheek. He cried for her often, his crush suddenly turned into agonizing heartbreak when her life was forced to an abrupt end.
"I took care of things, love." He said to her, his flushed face twisted into something between fear and mourning- still. After all the time that had passed Ron Weasley had chosen not to move on like the others.
[I tried.
To kill the pain. But only brought more.]
She watched curiously from above as he pulled a strange book out of his satchel. With the spite and resentment went a few memories of Hogwarts- those that triggered twice aforementioned emotions. She would have otherwise immediately remembered the leather bound edition to be that from the many in the restricted section. Ron opened the book and flipped through the pages, trying to find the one he had bent the corner down on earlier.
Hermione shook her head. She felt somewhat delighted in that he had taken up reading after she had passed. It was a welcome, unexpected change from the normal boy of now seventeen.
"You should be out with your friends, playing Quidditch... dueling someone for practice." She said to him, a small sadness in her voice. She often replied to those that talked to her-knowing full well they would never hear her replies. She never cared about that, really. It was hoping that one day they just might that kept her with an open ear toward earth.
"It won't be long now, 'Mione."
[I lay dying.
And I'm pouring crimson Regret, and betrayal.
I'm Dying-]
"You know, Hermione. when the mediwizard came to us with what he knew as helplessness, telling us he couldn't save you, I died along with you."
[I'm Praying-]
"Every night since then I've prayed, just to speak to you. My housemates are sure I've gone on a religious kick- they would understand if I felt like telling them all."
[I'm Bleeding-]
Without another word, Ron pulled from the same satchel a strange looking blade. Its razor's edge was silver, the rest of the blade white gold. The handle was onyx, and mounted at the butt of the handle was a blood red ruby. He sliced through the earth over Hermione's body, and then with the same blade, made an incision at the palm of his hand. He watched silently as the blood dripped into the open earth, sinking down to the lid of the casket below.
"Oh dark spirits of the earth, arise and bring with you this girl- Snatched from the prime of her life by greed and hatred - I beg you and offer this day my life's blood."
Hermione's eyes widened as his words floated from his mouth to her ears. "Reanimation-Ron, no!"
Ron squeezed his hand into a fist, gritting his teeth, tolerating the pain, but not wanting to stop until the soil below him was saturated. He then thrust his hand in the air, his palm open for all to see.
"I speak these words in the name of the unholy. I beg thee again, spirits. She is to be risen-"
[I'm Screaming!]
Hermione looked around. Things had become dreary. Sunlight had turned to rain. She put her hands in front of her face and they began to fade as she was pulled from her rest into limbo. She began to experience a severe heat throughout her entire body- she screamed in misery as the heat increased and soon her hands were no longer visible, her vision beginning to fade to black.
[Am I too lost
To be saved?
Am I too lost?]
Ron was beginning to become distraught, his eyes filling with tears, his tears falling to the blood-soaked earth.
"Why am I damned to be without you?!" He cried out to her. The ritual had indeed failed.
"What are you doing?"
Ron jumped at the question, never having dared express emotion after Voldemort had tried to kill Ginny. The voice was not unfamiliar, as was suddenly his own and he turned, with some bitter expression and replied: "Nothing, Harry."
Harry grasped Ron's hand by the wrist, flipping it over to look at the soil- filled gash. "How is this nothing, Ron?" His brow furrowed, lips set into a thin line. "I have been standing here for longer than you know. Explain to me how doing this to yourself will bring you any closer to getting Hermione back?"
Ron jerked his hand from Harry's grip, not without great discomfort. "I don't have to explain anything to you." Ron glared and turned away, his expression softening. "You're right. I don't know what came over me."
Turning back, he gathered his things then headed toward the dormitories, not a word needing exchanged between the two of them.
Ron's heart was swollen with hurt, his pride dashed on the rocks that the 'fail proof' ritual hadn't worked... or so he was sure. Ron glanced back, turning his body toward the headstone for the day's final glance and he muttered a single word: Justice.
[My god, my tourniquet,
Return to me salvation.]
Hermione awoke in a profound darkness. She tried to pull in a breath, but none would come, only stagnant air from the decomposing coffin lining. She reached forward, her palms meeting sharply with the lid. She simply screamed, unable to form words, the ability had left her.
She became panicked and began to scratch at the lid, her fingertips bloodying. She screamed again, fear gripping her.
Ron had not yet continued toward the school when suddenly a muffled cry reached his ears. "Harry- Harry what was that?"
Harry turned back as well, seeing the horror develop in Ron's eyes as he let his imagination drag him around. "Ron. You need to come inside. This is affecting you severely and you need to get away from it for a while."
Ron's expression became frightened, excited. He ran back to the headstone and with his bare hands began to pull back at the earth, little by little. "Harry, please help me!"
Harry approached Ron with care, unsure of whether or not Ron's mental state had taken a turn for the very worst.
Hermione felt the coffin move as Ron's weight was applied to the earth above her. She scratched even more, unaware of the damage she had already done. She screamed again, and Ron stopped in his tracks.
He watched as Harry dropped to his knees. "She-you...Did you?"
Ron nodded, afraid of what his emotion would do to his reply.
"We need to go get Professor Snape." Harry supposed quietly.
Ron had begun digging again, completely unaware of what Harry had said. He went for the slit that he had made, reaching deep into it. It had become muddy from the ritual, the smell of the bloodied soil nothing less than nauseating. Oblivious to Ron, Harry rose from his place and ran across the grounds, into the school, through the hallways and to the Potions Classroom where at the moment a First Years class was being held. Harry came through the door and rushed up to the now annoyed (not to mention rudely interrupted) professor and began to make his plea.
"Sir..."
Without a change in expression, Severus Snape looked directly into the boy's eyes. "Mister Potter- Are you or are you not aware that I am in the midst of teaching a class? And are you also unaware that I am in the mood to take points?"
Harry blanched at his frankness, but continued. "Apologies sir, but something very urgent has happened at Hermione Granger's resting place that you need to come and see."
Professor Snape's expression became constricted and harsh. "You interrupted my class over a dead girl?"
The words stung like so many paper cuts, and Harry was going to regret his actions, but actions had to be taken. "Class- I apologize for the interruption, but I need to borrow Professor Snape for a moment. Please stay in your seats and open your books to chapter three. Please read until he gets back." Harry looked at him and sneered. "It's not that hard, now is it? Come."
[My god, my tourniquet, Return to me salvation.]
Harry dragged the professor by his cloak down the same route he had come before, then across the grounds to where Ron still knelt, digging.
"Listen Potter- if this is what you brought me here for you can just forget- what in bloody hell was that?" Professor Snape went a shade lighter as the scratching and screams reached his ears as well. "Mister Weasley, I'm going to have to ask you to move out of the way."
Ron looked back, furious at the interruptions. "Sod off!"
"Ron, he's here to help!" Harry replied, surprised. Ron obliged and backed away, but with much hesitance.
The two boys stood and watched from behind Professor Snape as he drew his wand and pointed it at the already disturbed soil. "Corpus Exhumen!" The earth above the coffin simply dissipated, and the coffin floated to come to rest directly beside the open grave.
Both Harry and Ron approached, stopped suddenly by a signal from Professor Snape. "I'd better do this. Stay where you are." Stealthily he opened the lid to the casket, stepping back suddenly. Hermione moved not one inch, however her struggle from within was wholly evident in the torn away casket lining. "We were too late, gentlemen."
It was Harry's promise to be a pillar of strength for her. He had promised to be strong for Ron, however as the events unfolded in front of him, the pillar began to crumble. A tear slid down his cheek.
[Will you remember me? Lost for so long-]
"We can't be-It's not fair!" Ron exclaimed. With his fists clenched, the wound split back open and began to seep again. He approached against the Professor's advice and touched her, brushing a strand of hair away from her forehead, leaving traces of blood when he touched her lips. He turned to look desperately at Harry, the desperation taking a quick turn to ire. He lunged at Harry, putting his hands at Harry's throat and pressing, his eyes ablaze. "All you had to do was trust me!!! That and listen!!! DO I BEG FOR MORE THAN THAT, POTTER?!"
Professor Snape watched for a moment, too shocked to respond immediately, however once his senses came back to him he quickly approached and pulled Ron from the nearly unconscious boy. "Mister Weasley, have you indeed lost your mind as all the students are assuming? Far, far be it for me to say anything to Potter's benefit, but you need to think about what you just did to him. Having said that, I feel dirty." Snape turned back toward the grave, his intentions to lay Hermione back to rest however, as is customary in this type of fiction, his plans were instantly and distinctly thwarted. "Where is she?" He mouthed to himself, staring blankly at the empty cask.
[Do you remember me? Lost for so long-]
Harry stood rubbing at his neck, his throat raw and swollen from the strength of Ron's hands. He looked at where Snape stood, noticing his movements to reverse anything were completely minimal. Ron stood with his back to everyone, suddenly bound and determined to exhaustively evaluate his behaviour.
"Professor?" Harry began, walking toward the unmoving man. "Professor what's the matter?"
Professor Snape looked at Harry, his eyes full of confusion. "Where did she go?" He asked, pointing at the empty casket.
Harry followed the long finger and looked straight into the coffin. He walked around to the other side, thinking she may have fallen into the grave, but that was as empty as the aforementioned.
*More To Come*