Chapter Two: …Than That of Juliet and her Romeo
Hello my loyal fans!
This little note from me at the beginning will only be short today. I haven't actually got much to say. I would like to thank everyone who has been reading and reviewing! Its good to hear that so many of you were enjoying this! I'm glad I could bring tears to your eyes!
If the last one made you cry, then read on! I'm sure you will enjoy!
Without further ado, I give you chapter two!
She watched in terror as he stepped towards the ledge of the tower, smiling warmly at her, a twinkle in his eye.
She desperately tried to move or say something but it felt as though she was under a body bind spell. She looked pleadingly at him, but he just smiled and took another step back.
"I love you, Hermione. Never forget that." As he finished the last word, he fell backwards off the edge of the tower. Able to move again, she ran forward, desperate to try and stop him.
"HAAARRRY!" She screamed.
She sat bolt upright in bed, covered in a thin film of cold sweat, panting breathlessly. She began to cry in her hands, shaking from the memory of her friend's death.
It had been three days since her best friend had committed suicide, but during those three days the nightmares were vivid and torturous. Every time she would watch him approach the edge, while she was powerless to stop him.
She forced her emotions under control and looked around the room. While the majority of the students had gone home to celebrate with their families, she had stayed behind along with a few others, waiting for the funerals.
Since her parents were still living in Australia with no knowledge of their daughter, she had nowhere to go. Of course, Mrs Weasley had told her that she could live with them at the Burrow, but she had politely declined. Hermione wanted to keep a distance from Ron for the time being.
Accepting Minerva's offer to stay at Hogwarts, she decided to live in the girl's dormitory in Gryffindor Tower. However, she had been unable to sleep at all, lying awake at night thinking about her dead friend, or having painful nightmares.
As she lay wide-awake, she thought of all the times she had seen Harry sleeping and smiled. He always looked very peaceful, even if he was in the hospital wing. Suddenly, she had a thought. Getting out of bed, she made her way down to the common room. Seeing no one around, she crept to the boy's dormitory and climbed the stairs.
After talking to Minerva the day before, she had found out that there were no Gryffindors staying in the tower, having all opted to go home. She walked into the small dormitory and looked around. Her eyes immediately fell upon one bed; Harry's bed. Taking a step closer, she saw the faded bronze plate with the words 'Harry James Potter' engraved on it.
She climbed onto it and snuggled down under the blanket. After a moment, she began to cry, thinking about Harry lying dead in the Chapel outside. However, as she sobbed, she suddenly felt a very warming embrace wrap around her.
She sat up and looked around; the room was empty. With a sniff, she settled back down, the warm feeling never leaving her. As she began to fall asleep, she was sure she felt a hand running across her forehead and through her hair.
"Don't worry Hermione. Just sleep."
Hermione woke up the next morning with a large smile on her face. With a big stretch and a yawn, she sat up and looked around. The room was still empty. Her smile faded as the memories of the past few days crept up on her. Her eyes began to fill with tears, so she wiped them and stood up, determined to distract herself for a while.
Since most of the clothes she had from the horcrux hunt were ruined, Minerva had retrieved her trunk so she could wear those clothes for the time being. When the death eaters had attacked Fleur and Bill's wedding, she had abandoned her trunk, having transferred everything of value into her bead bag.
After showering, she pulled on some muggle clothes and made her way into the common room. It was so quiet. She was not used to the room being empty, without so many familiar faces. Her tears threatened to return, so she left the room and headed down to the Great Hall.
As she entered the hall, she noticed a few people all sitting at the Gryffindor table, chatting quietly. Most of them were teachers, with a few students mixed in. However, she did not recognise any of them personally. As she came to sit down, Professor McGonagall smiled at her warmly.
"Good morning Hermione. How are you feeling?" She smiled and took a seat.
"Much better, thank you for asking." Minerva was relieved to see in her face that she had at last gotten some sleep. "How are you feeling?" She grimaced slightly.
"It's…difficult. Having to organise a funeral for all these people that you knew…it's painful." Hermione nodded sympathetically.
For the past three days, the bodies of the dead had been placed into a specially built structure on the grounds, named the Chapel, for those who wanted to pay their respects. Each day, they would hold a wake for those who had died, before burying them the next day. While the staff had been holding burials and wakes for numerous people on the same day, it had been decided that Harry's wake would be on its own day.
Today was the day of his wake.
She had been dreading it since the day he had died. Hermione hadn't been able to go see his body in the Chapel because she was terrified. It seemed so unreal. She couldn't bear going to see the body because it would finally be confirmed. Harry was dead. She was pulled back from her thoughts by Minerva speaking.
"Hermione; we will be holding Harry's wake this afternoon." A tear fell down her cheek and she nodded sadly.
"Don't worry. I'll be there." She said softly. The professor nodded and stood up, walking out of the Great Hall. Before she could get far, Hermione followed her.
"Professor?" She turned around to face her student. "I was wondering…for Harry's wake…" She pulled out the letter he had written, holding it out to her. "…if you would want to read this. He left it behind, before he…" She paused, tears filling her eyes. Minerva took it gently and read the name on the envelope.
"Hermione; are you sure you want me to read this today? He wrote it to you. Don't you want it to be kept private?" Hermione smiled and sniffed slightly.
"The letter explains his actions. While it is quite personal, I want to share his words with all of them. They deserve to know part of his decision." The professor nodded sympathetically.
"Thank you Hermione. I'm sure they will all be grateful you did." She smiled and walked back to the hall for breakfast.
In the Great Hall, the tables and benches had been removed, replaced instead with rows and rows of seats. Every seat was filled, with nearly two hundred people all sitting waiting for the wake of Harry Potter.
Where the staff table usually stood, a clear class coffin sat upon an altar. It was surrounded by a bright display of pictures, courtesy of Colin Creevey. They were mostly from the early days in his life, taken after Quidditch games and during the Triwizard Tournament.
Harry's corpse, dressed in a set of formal black dress robes, lay on a bed of Gryffindor red velvet. Many people had contributed various things to place in his coffin, the most prominent of which was a silver sword and a medal.
As a sign of respect and admiration for the deceased wizard, the Goblins of Gringrotts had given them back the Sword of Godric Gryffindor to place in his coffin, despite him having broken into their bank and releasing one of their dragons. Furthermore, the ministry of magic, under a new minister, had decided to award him the Order of Merlin; First Class for his contributions in the war.
The room was filled with people talking to one another, sharing memories and stories about the wizard. After a few minutes, Professor McGonagall stood up, moved toward the headmaster's plinth and the room fell silent.
"Thank you. I understand that this past week has been extremely emotional and difficult for all of us.
"With the death of Voldemort and the fall of his pureblood regime, we have, once again been left picking up the pieces from their wave of destruction. We lost a great many people, all of whom bravely stood up and fought against evil.
"We are here to remember one man in particular, who gave his everything to fight against the forces of darkness and helped give us a new dawn.
"Harry James Potter was a shining example to all of us. During his short life, he did more to combat the evil that was Voldemort than many of us have done in our entire lives. Despite struggling against impossible odds, he brought us victory from the jaws of defeat.
"However, in order to help us defeat evil, he destroyed himself, not physically, but emotionally. He sacrificed his heart, his very humanity to save us all.
"In the end, after living through the horrors of his life, he was driven to suicide. However, we must not mourn his loss or lament his passing; with his death, he has been released to join his loved ones in the afterlife." Hermione's bottom lip trembled as she said the last words.
"Thanks to Ms Granger, I have a letter which he wrote to her, in order to explain the actions which lead to his death." Minerva glanced at Hermione and she nodded in assent. "Despite its personal nature, Ms Granger has given me permission to read it in its entirety."
Some of the people in the hall looked at her while murmuring, before giving their attention back to Minerva McGonagall. Producing the envelope from her robes, she carefully removed the letter and unfolded it.
"My Dearest Hermione…"
During the next few minutes, the aged professor related the letter's contents to the entire congregation in the hall. Most of the people began to cry anew as they listened to the heart wrenching letter. Those who had heard his speech in the Great Hall before he had committed suicide were able to understand it and cried in sorrow for Harry Potter.
As she read the letter, Ron listened, completely shocked by what he was hearing. Harry had cared for Hermione, no, he had loved Hermione. He gave up everything to make her happy.
He glanced over to Hermione and studied her expression. She sat with her eyes closed, listening to the letter with a large smile and tears running down her face.
As she opened them, he caught her gaze. She loved Harry back; he could see it reflected in her glazed eyes. Turning away from her, he listened to the end of the letter. As it finished, he began to re-evaluate his feelings.
Did he really love Hermione?
Scanning his memories for answers he noticed a recurring theme. He had always seen Harry with Hermione. That was why he wanted her. His jealous mind wanted to beat the 'Boy Who Lived' at something.
Winning Hermione was his chance to best Harry Potter. Looking back through his memories, he realised that he didn't care about Hermione in the slightest…not in a romantic sense anyway. She was a friend, nothing more.
Thanks to his childish jealousy, his best friend was lying dead in that coffin. He burst into tears and sat his head in his hands, crying in self-pity.
As Minerva read Harry's letter, Hermione was able to hear it anew. She picked up everything Harry had told her in his letter – she understood.
She shouldn't be sad. Harry was finally free, just like the professor had said. He was free to live with his family in the afterlife, to get to know his mother and father, to chat to Sirius and Remus, catching up for lost time.
However, she knew that he had made a mistake. He had said there was nothing for him in this world anymore. He was wrong. She glanced over at Ron, who was looking at her with a look of intense thought.
She knew full well what he was doing. He was doing what she had been doing since she first read the letter; re-evaluating feelings. As a look of realisation and sadness crossed his face, she knew her guesses had been confirmed.
Harry had misjudged their feelings for one another. His last minute confession and his letter had opened their eyes to the obvious truth. They did not love each other. Harry had made a huge mistake. She was still here. The woman he loved was still here.
As the wake finished, Ron made a beeline for Hermione, who stood waiting for him with an unreadable expression on her face.
"Hermione, can we talk?" She nodded and they left the Great Hall and entered an empty classroom. Before he could speak, she held up her hand.
"I know what you are going to say Ron; that you…misinterpreted your feelings for me and that you want us to remain friends." He blinked in surprise before nodding slowly.
"That's right. I'm sorry Hermione." She laughed coldly.
"It's ok Ron, nothing to be sorry about." She said sarcastically. He turned red in the face and scowled.
"Hey, I'm not the only one who made a cock up here!" He shouted angrily. Her expression turned livid and she snarled.
"No? Well at least my feelings for you didn't come from the petty jealousy of your best friend, did they?" He opened and closed his mouth a few times, while he tried to think of a rebuttal. She snorted and made to leave the room. She stopped just as she was about to leave.
"Oh, and Ron; we are finished. We are not best friends; we are not friends; we are not even acquaintances. As far as I'm concerned, we are done." She left the room and slammed the door behind her.
After making a beeline for the Gryffindor common room, she climbed up the stairs to the boy's dormitory, collapsed onto Harry's bed and began sobbing in grief. Hundreds of questions raced through her mind as she wallowed in her misery.
Why couldn't Harry have spoken to her about his feelings? Why hadn't she seen them earlier? Why hadn't she seen her own feelings toward Harry for what they were?
She realised that she loved Harry back. All the years they had spent together were the best of her life. Without him, her life felt empty and without meaning. She realised her feelings too late. The only person she had ever loved and loved her back lay dead in the Great Hall. Her mind was overcome with despair.
While she cried, she felt the same warm, comforting presence surround her. Her sadness seemed to bleed away as she was cocooned by it and soon her tears stopped. Wriggling under the blankets, she curled up into a ball and sniffed slightly.
Her mind re-engaged and began to assess the situation; her best friend, her love, her reason for being was dead. Without him she had no purpose. Harry had said that she hadn't needed him. He was wrong.
All her life she had been without direction. She spent her time studying and learning because that was all she knew how to do. Harry gave her direction. During his adventures, she felt useful and needed. He gave her a purpose and now he was gone.
While she lay on his bed, she felt a familiar hand running through her hair in a soothing motion. She closed her eyes and smiled as she felt his calloused fingers run across her scalp. As she began to relax, she heard a voice speak.
"Please don't be sad, Hermione." She sat bolt upright and looked around the room.
It was empty. Part of her really thought that when she glanced up she would see Harry smiling at her, while gently caressing her hair. This inspired a new wave of tears. Now her mind was playing cruel tricks on her.
"Just because you can't see me doesn't mean I'm not there." Again she sat up, but this time she smiled.
'He's still looking after me, even when he's gone.' She thought with a smile. A warm feeling pulsed through her, telling her she was right.
She moved herself so that she sat cross legged on his bed and sighed. She couldn't live like this. Even with Harry watching over her, she didn't want to live without him in her life. He was a big part of her. After a moment of thought, she made up her mind.
Picking up Harry's belongings, she got dressed, made her way down the steps into the common room and into the castle.
She had a plan.
The Great Hall was silent. The moon shone through the stained glass windows, reflected from the enchanted moonlit ceiling. A single ray of light shone on the glass coffin, still on the altar from the wake.
The double doors creaked open and closed again, before a young woman threw off a cloak and crept into the room. She stared at the coffin for a moment, before crossing the flagstone floor to stand beside it. She placed her hand on the glass coffin, feeling its smooth surface under her fingertips.
Drawing her wand, she banished the glass lid and stared for a moment, tears pouring from her eyes. Gently caressing his cheek, her tears splashed on his body, she leant down and placed a kiss on his lips. He was cold; ice cold. But she didn't care.
Climbing into the coffin with him, she curled up to him and cried into his shoulder. She had never felt so alone. When she was younger, she was bullied by her muggle school-mates and had felt abandoned and empty.
Her mother used to read her stories about knights, castles and wizards. She used to listen to them, completely enraptured, loving the happy ending when the knight and the damsel would fall in love and get married.
The only way she was able to live her life was with the hope that one day, her own knight in shining armour would ride up and whisk her away to live in his castle; a man who loved her as she was, the nerdy bushy haired girl.
Here lay that knight.
Her fairy tale dream had turned into a nightmare. It had all gone wrong. This was not how it was meant to be. She couldn't live without him. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a small vial, filled with a dark purple liquid. She looked at its contents, tears filling her eyes.
"Wait for me Harry. We'll be together again." She uncorked the vial and swallowed its contents. She closed her eyes and a tear fell down her cheek. "I love you Harry." She whispered.
When the staff entered the Great Hall in the morning, a loud scream reverberated throughout the castle. Minerva McGonagall rushed into the room and saw the cause of the yells. Tears poured down her face and she shook her head.
"What a waste." She whispered in despair.
In the clear, glass coffin, lay Harry with Hermione curled alongside him, a small smile on her face. Her skin was cold and her face pale. She noticed that Filius was about to levitate the body from the coffin.
"Filius," he looked at her, "leave her." He blinked slightly before his eyes softened. With a short nod, he replaced the coffin's lid, leaving the pair together.
In order to allow mourners to pay their respects to Hermione, they postponed the funeral another day. So it was, 7th May 1998, five days after the Battle for Hogwarts, that the bodies of Hermione Granger and Harry Potter were interred into the memorial garden on the grounds of the school.
At the head of their graves stood a stone statue, depicting the two sitting together, holding hands and leaning against the other. They both had a contented smile of their faces as they sat for eternity.
The inscription on the statue was simple:
Here Lies:
Harry James Potter
July 30th 1980 – May 2nd 1998
And
Hermione Jane Granger
September 19th 1979 – May 6th 1998
Apart In Life, Together In Death
For years after their death, witches and wizards from all over the world came to pay homage to the statue of the greatest magical couple of the age.
Harry and Hermione were not only acknowledged as the heroes who won the Second Wizarding War, but as final victims as well.
There we go! Chapter Two!
Now, Chapter three is offically finished. I hope you enjoyed this one and that you continue to read this story and others!
Please review!
This is the Quill, signing off!