Hermione sat on the edge of her neatly made hospital bed at Saint Mungos. Her one hand rest in her lap, while the other played with a stray piece of sky-blue frayed fabric on her blanket. Hermione stared straight ahead, chewing the inside of her lip as she stared at a small spot on the otherwise pristine wall that was across from her bed. The young woman sighed, closed her eyes, and then looked down at her lap.
Yesterday evening, Harry had brought some clothes with him to give to her in the hospital. She donned the clothes without much thought – a pair of jeans, a purple tee shirt, and a pewter gray sweater was her fashion of choice today. Not that she did have much choice. It was one of the few things he grabbed from her home before it was burned to the ground.
Hermione gave a grave smile…
No home. No family. No husband…literally, all she had were the clothes on her back…
Hermione sighed. No matter, she thought. Things will be all right…things will turn out just fine…
Her mind continued to wander. She looked at her watch. It was close to supper time, and even though her stomach managed to give forth a few rumbles here and there, the young woman was almost completely void of appetite.
Just then, Hermione heard one set of soft footsteps echoing throughout the hall, gradually coming closer and closer. She looked up at the doorframe, waiting any minute for the individual to find her in her room.
It was Harry who stopped within her doorframe.
He looked genuinely glad to see her, though in his eyes, she could see just a twinge of hurt behind them. Hurt that she would not be coming to headquarters with him this evening. Hurt that he couldn't be hailed as a hero for bringing her to, as they say, 'where she belonged.' And even though Hermione felt just a hint, just the slightest most minute sliver of regret for what she had planned for this evening, she inwardly smiled at the notion that she was going to win. That she was going to win the battle, and no one from either side could stop her…
'Ready to go, Mione?' Harry asked softly, taking a moment to survey the area. Her belongings, what little she had, were neatly tucked away, and it was assumed that she was dressed and ready to go.
Hermione gave a small smile. She picked up a cloth bag sitting beside her, and likewise scooped up one of the flower arrangements that could not fit inside the bag. She could not deny the thought of using her wand to shrink the items, but she had grown used to surviving without magic, living without magic; that she, Hermione, wanted to do things her way; the way she was used to.
Hermione stood up slowly, not giving any hint that she was still in a fair amount of pain from her attack the other night. Standing firmly on the floor, feeling her feet becoming grounded, she looked up at Harry.
'Let's go,' she said with a sad smile, her brown eyes hiding a world of truth beneath them.
Harry stepped closer to the young woman. Without a word, he took hold of the single plant held in her arm.
'Here,' he said, relinquishing her hold on the object. 'It's the least I can do,' he said softly, looking into her brown eyes.
'Thanks,' Hermione whispered, her one hand clutched so tightly around the straps of the cloth bag that her palms began to sweat profusely.
Hermione walked through the doorframe, and out into the hallway. The area was just about deserted. An older gentleman in a light blue lab coat could be seen down the hall, trying to tackle something with purple spots in a large glass fish bowl. Hermione rolled her eyes, and walked the other way.
The young man and young woman walked side by side down the hall, two pairs of trainers treading softly on the floor below, giving slight echo to the walls that surrounded them. Out of the side of his vision, Harry could see Hermione walking stiffly, purposefully, as if she were on death row walking to meet her maker. He could not understand, could not comprehend why she seemed so sad, so unemotional since that day that they met face to face on the bridge nights ago. Something inside her was changing. Something inside was eating away at her. And it gave Harry a very, very bad feeling…
Severus Snape also had a very, very bad feeling.
He sat at the long wooden table in Grimmauld place; not having much of an appetite, he sat and observed the other individuals eat away at their supper. The Weasley twins, Ginny, and both Arthur and Molly were chatting away, excited at the notion that Hermione would be staying just a few doors away. Knowing that she was that close to them was a joyous prospect; that perhaps in a day or two, she would be moving into Grimmauld Place, and even be back to Hogwarts working in the Hospital Wing.
Severus snorted, looking down at his scarcely touched platter.
How they longed to see her; how they wished in their hearts that she would re-join, what they termed as 'their family.' And once again, Severus wished just in the slightest bit that Hermione knew just how much her presence meant to all of them. Reaching for his drink, Severus extended his arm, and then withdrew it suddenly, hissing in pain. All members of the Weasley clan stopped speaking immediately, and turned to look at him.
Molly's face grew grave.
'They're calling for you…?' she asked, a mixed look of worry and disapprove on her face.
Severus looked at the older woman and sneered. Without a single word, Severus stood up from his seat, and exited the kitchen into the dark hallway. A meeting this evening wasn't planned. A meeting tonight wasn't scheduled. Unscheduled meetings, unplanned meetings were usually not pleasant, Severus reminded himself. The Potions Professor sighed inwardly, stopping in the middle of the hallway, and closing his eyes. Reopening them, he stepped towards the front door. Taking hold of the knob, Severus welcomed the breath of cool crisp early autumn air that hit his nostrils almost instantaneously.
Hermione closed her eyes and breathed in the fresh scent of the evening, the cool air chilling her ever so slightly. She had grabbed hold of Harry's arm as he extended it out to her, apparating across the street from Helen Crawford's home. Hermione blinked twice, looking at the plain yet dismal home's exterior, swallowing the lump in her throat.
Hermione let go of Harry's arm as if it were burning her. She cleared her throat, pushing a strand of hair out of her face and slinging her cloth bag over one shoulder. Harry looked at the young woman, and smiled. He began to walk across the deserted street, while Hermione followed behind. She placed her hands in the pockets of her sweater, her fingers balled into fists. As if in slow motion, Hermione noticed out of the corner of her eye, a figure exit out of a home two doors away. His unmistakable ebony garb and sallow skin would give him away anywhere, and Hermione turned her head to look at the man walking down the concrete steps. With his cloak billowing in the evening breeze, he too turned his head to see Hermione walking across the street towards Helen Crawford's home. She turned her head ever so slowly, taking a glimpse at the person on the other side of the street. Severus had to admit he was a bit taken back by her sudden appearance. Her eyes stared into his, as she walked towards the home, her face completely void of emotion as she continued to stare at him. Severus paused to look at the pair walk up the steps of the home, Hermione giving him one last look as she walked into the house, closing the door behind her.
Severus sighed. He took a small object out of his cloak, and with a wave of his hand, it became a grotesque mask that Severus quickly placed on his face. Without a single word, he took out his wand touching the mark on his forearm, and disappeared into the night.
Hermione stood in the parlor of Helen Crawford's home. It smelled…well it smelled lemony. And a bit…well, like an old person. Hermione scrunched up her nose, and looked around the room. She was scanning the floors, the furniture, even the bookshelf in the corner of the room for Crookshanks, desperate to see the furry orange creature whom she had wanted to visit. It was, after all, her only motive for coming to this old woman's home tonight.
Harry ventured into the kitchen, where Ms. Crawford sat with a plate full of food in front of her. She also had one for Harry, and one for Hermione. Again, Hermione swallowed the lump in her throat. She felt sick to her stomach, and couldn't possibly eat the entire plate of food that was set out for her. Harry exchanged pleasantries with the older woman, and motioned for Hermione to sit down next to him. Walking ever so slowly over to the wooden seat meant for her, Hermione gently sat down in the chair, removing her bag ever so slowly from her shoulder and placing it gently by her feet.
'Mione, want me to put your bag upstairs?' Harry asked already with a mouth full of pot roast, motioning towards the bag lying by her side.
Hermione's eyes grew large.
'NO!' she exclaimed, a bit too loud even for her own taste. Hermione was caught off-guard by her response, and forced a small smile.
'I mean…it's OK, really Harry. I'll just keep it here until…until I'm ready to say good night,' she said in a soft voice, making eye contact with the young man next to her.
The evening meal passed in a flash for Hermione. She stared at her supper, her thoughts rambling throughout her entire mind. She ate maybe two, three bites of her supper.
'Not hungry, dear?' Ms. Crawford asked, a kind smile upon her face and a sparkle in her eye as she observed the young woman's actions.
Hermione cleared her throat. Pausing to take a drink of water, she spoke to the older woman.
'Not really…I think I'm just…just a little exhausted, you know…' she said, looking at her hands now folded neatly in her lap.
Harry looked up at the clock hanging on the wall in the kitchen.
'Woah! Didn't think it was that late. Gotta run, ladies – nightly rounds at the school. Remember the times we three tried not to get caught when we walked the halls at night?' Harry chuckled, remembering the good times they used to have at Hogwarts.
Hermione inwardly cringed at the mention of her old school. And at the word, 'three.' For the three had become two…
And was soon to become only one…
Harry stood up quickly, bending to given Ms. Crawford a peck on the cheek, thanking her profusely for the delicious meal, and then pausing to look at Hermione who refused to return his gaze. He stopped in front of her, bending down to give her a small kiss on her cool cheek.
'You'll be OK Mione…you'll see,' he whispered into her ear, before walking out of the kitchen, and closing the door a little too hard behind him.
Ms. Crawford watched the boy exit out of her home, and turned towards Hermione.
'I think…I think I'd like some tea before bed,' Hermione interjected, before Ms. Crawford could say another word.
With a smile, the old woman got up from her seat and walked towards the stove.
'No wait!' Hermione shouted. 'I mean…why don't you sit in the other room, and I…I'll make some tea for…for the both of us,' she said, another forced smile upon her lips.
Ms. Crawford squinted one eye and cocked her head. 'Are you sure my dear?' she inquired.
'It's…it's the least I can do…and plus, I am awfully picky about how I prepare my tea,' she added in a quiet voice.
The older woman smiled. 'Very well, dear. I'll be in the other room if you need me,' she said kindly, making her way out of the room, pausing to close the kitchen door behind her.
Hermione's heart raced. Her plan was about to be put into action.
With a swift move, Hermione filled the kettle with water, placing it on the stove. She retrieved two tea bags from Ms. Crawford's cabinet, adjacent to the stove. Pausing to look at all the unused medication bottles, Hermione became infuriated, and became even more so when pausing to look at the article regarding Dumbledore's death. Hermione sneered, and walked over to her bag. She placed the bag on her chair, and reached deep into it, extracting a small vial with just a tad of blood-red liquid sitting at the bottom.
The tea kettle began to whistle, and Hermione removed it from the heat underneath. Teacups and saucers were already placed by the stove, the tea bags draped over the rim of each porcelain cup. Just as she was about to pour the water into the first cup, she felt something brush her leg. She looked down, her eyes growing large, and she plopped the kettle back on the stove with a 'bang.'
'Crooks!' she exclaimed quietly, tears beginning to form in her eyes.
Hermione picked up her cat in one fell swoop, the feline beginning to purr almost instantaneously. Hermione choked back tears as she smashed her face into his orange fur.
'Oh Crookshanks! Oh I came back to see you, did you know that? I don't have much time…I just..I just wanted to see you one last time…I know you have a good home here, and…' Hermione began to silently sob into his fur. Cradling him in her arms, she looked into his big eyes.
'I will miss you…just please trust me that it's for the best, OK?' she whispered, tears streaming down her face.
Just then, Hermione heard a distant voice coming from the other room.
'Everything alright dear?' the older woman asked from the room next door.
Hermione sniffed, wiping her nose with her sleep, placing the cat down by her legs. She placed the remaining contents of the small vial into one cup, drowning it in hot water from the kettle.
'Yes, Ms. Crawford. Everything is just fine…' she yelled pausing to wipe her eyes on the sleeve of her gray sweater.
Moments later, the two women sat side by side on the couch, sipping their nightly brew. Within minutes, Helen Crawford downed her cup, and as she made her way to stand up to grant herself a refill, the potion hit her like a ton of bricks.
She crumbled onto the floor, her teacup and saucer crashing to the floor below. Hermione had not expected the potion to act so suddenly. But there the old woman was, lying on the ground, her snores echoing in the parlor within seconds.
Hermione got up, draining the last remaining contents of her cup. Placing it on the side of the sofa, Hermione stooped down to pick up the shards of porcelain, hoping that her cat wouldn't step on them and injure himself.
Once scooping up the pieces, Hermione footed it to the kitchen, tossing the contents into the trashcan. Hermione grabbed her bag from the kitchen, the only belongings that she had, and walked back into the other room. Pausing to look at Helen Crawford, Hermione once again had tears in her eyes. With a hand dropping blindly into her bag, she retrieved a hand written note that she placed ever so gently next to the kind woman. A smear of blood was on the note, and Hermione gasped. She studied her hand, and flipping it over noticed that her palm had began to bleed. Guessing it was from the broken cup and saucer, she shrugged it off. There was absolutely no time to waste.
Hermione gave a final look around the home, secretly wishing to see Crookshanks one last time. She bit her lip as her eyes began to well. The young woman walked swiftly towards the front door, opened it, and hurried down the steps.
Her car was out front, and she silently prayed that her keys were in her bag. For without them, her plan would be greatly delayed. Recognizing the familiar jingle at the bottom of the bag, Hermione opened her car door, started the engine and prayed that she had enough gas to get to where she wanted to be. Her prayers were answered, and without a single glance at the shabby house, or at Headquarters, Hermione stepped on the gas pedal and was gone.
Severus Snape let his mind wander as he waited for other members to join the meeting at Malfoy Manor, his mask hiding both his appearance and emotions. Suddenly, Lucius Malfoy entered the darkened room. Removing his mask, he spoke to the other Death Eaters in the room.
'Lord Voldemort is not…feeling exactly up to par…however, he has allowed me to call this meeting to alert you to a certain bit of information regarding the Mudblood Granger,' he sneered, letting everyone hear the hatred for the young woman in his voice.
Severus listened with great interest.
Lucius continued addressing the members in the room.
'A source from Saint Mungos stated that the Mudblood was to be staying at a woman named Helen Crawford's home. Severus-' Lucius commanded, pausing to look at the figure standing by the window, '-you are to be given the task of proving the…reliability of this source. Find whoever this Crawford woman is, and see if the Mudblood is with her. Take no action if you find them. I'd like to deal with them personally,' he added, the scarcasm dripping from his voice as a sneer grazed his lips.
Severus' breath caught in his chest.
'As you wish, Lucius. As you wish…' Severus added in a cool tone, not giving any hint to what he already knew to be true.
For a brief moment, the two men stared at each other. Lucius gave a small bow to the Potions Professor, and left the room in a few quick steps. Taking this as a sign that the meeting was adjourned, Severus walked hastily to the outside hallway, speaking to no one on his way, and swiftly stepped through the door leading outside. He apparated without a hitch, and appeared directly outside Helen Crawford's home.
Pausing on the sidewalk, he knew something was wrong as he silently scanned the area.
Hermione's car was missing.
Severus' mouth became dry as cotton as he swiftly removed his mask with his wand, placing the small object in his cloak. Walking up the concrete steps towards the front of the older woman's door, he paused with his hand on the doorknob. There was a scratching noise from the other side of the door. Severus opened the wooden door, and was greeted instantly by Hermione's cat, Crookshanks. The animal meowed over and over again, as if her were trying desperately to give Severus a message. The Potions Professor looked at the animal, and then walked a few feet, looking into the parlor.
Helen Crawford was on the ground. Out cold.
Severus' eyes grew wide, his brow furrowed.
Looking closer at the woman, he noticed a piece of paper lying next to her, a smudge of blood on the outside.
Severus felt his heart quicken, a surge of heat rising towards his neck.
Opening the letter, he silently read the carefully scripted words on the page:
I would like to thank you most sincerely for your generous hospitality. I would also like to apologize in advance for giving you a sleeping potion in your evening tea. Please know that I meant no harm to you. It was to serve a purpose, my purpose to be exact, and I know that appears truly selfish in nature. Once again, I apologize. Please take care of Crookshanks. He is the only thing I have (had) connected to me throughout the years, even in the smallest sense. He is a clever cat, as you may have realized, and always enjoys a good mouse hunt. It is most probable that a member of the Order will find you slumbering from the potion, or, you may wake up on your own to find my last words next to you. Please tell those that are involved in the Order that I have meant no harm to them. I only wish that they move on, as I have done. Tell Harry that I love him, and please tell Professor Snape that I had thought kindly of him all these years. I am sorry to be a disappointment to all of you, but in hindsight, it really is better this way.
All my love,
Dr. Hermione Granger
P.S On the back of this note, I have written the name and number of a new physician for Helen Crawford, in the chance that she may like to be seen by a colleague of mine to receive medical care.
Severus felt his stomach sink to the floor.
'Fuck' he uttered under his breath, and looked upon the room once more, glancing at the snoring woman by his feet.
After checking the entire house for any sign of the young woman, he strode out of the house, slamming the door behind him, the note crumpled in his hand.
'Where the fuck could she have gone…' he muttered under his breath. His eyes began to dart, as he thought like mad where she could have been.
He was infuriated with her. Disappointed. Angry. But most of all, he feared. He feared for her safety, and for the second time that evening had a very, very bad feeling.
Severus apparated to several sites where the young woman could have gone. The graveyard where Ron and her parents were buried, to the grounds upon which her parent's home stood, the grounds upon which her own home had stood not too long ago. She was not there.
Severus' brow began to bead with sweat. He was livid, mostly at himself. And then, he thought of another place that he did not yet check. The place where he had seen her come so many times. The place where he and Potter saw her just nights ago, when she willed them to leave her alone. The thought hit him like lightning, and he immediately apparated to the bridge by the river.
The first thing he saw was her hair fluttering ever so softly in the wind.
She had heard the apparition 'pop' in the background, but did not care enough to turn around to see who it was. It could be a Death Eater for all she cared, and yet it still would not have mattered.
Severus walked slowly towards the young woman, who was perched on the side of the concrete bridge, her feet dangling off of the ledge as she stared into the cold dark water below. He stopped several feet behind her. Severus started to open his mouth to speak to her, when all of a sudden, he heard a small voice.
'When Ron died…he…he didn't know something that I think would have…could have given him hope. Hope enough to strengthen his heart so he would be here this very day…' Hermione began to sob quietly into her hand, covering her mouth ever so gently. After a brief moment, she continued, saying something Severus was not prepared to hear.
'When Ron died, I…I was pregnant. And three days after his passing, I…I lost the baby,' she said softly, her voice cracking ever so slightly. Hermione sniffed, and she paused to catch some of the tears that had been flooding her vision.
Severus was speechless.
Then Hermione did something he did not expect her to do.
She laughed, and turned her head to face him.
'You see, I can't even do that right! Not a single damn thing…' she said, the anguish unmistakable on her tear-stricken face.
Severus looked at Hermione, and shifted his focus to her wand placed neatly next to her, fully intact.
'Your wand – why did you bring it?' he inquired, paying careful attention to the words he chose.
Hermione sniffled, wiping her eyes with the back of one hand.
'Honestly, I have no idea,' she mumbled, looking down at the familiar piece of wood.
Suddenly, Severus had an idea. It was risky, oh so very risky, but since the girl was being so damn stubborn about the whole ordeal, he thought he would play along.
'Well, Dr. Granger, if you are that unhappy, that unwilling to help those that have helped you, then by all means-' he stated, gesturing at the wand, '-what are you waiting for?'
Hermione blinked.
'You mean…you mean you're not going to try and talk me out…out of ending…everything?' she asked, obviously perplexed at his last statement.
Severus scowled.
'Well, you have obviously made up your mind, haven't you? You have the means to…complete your mission. I will not stand in your way,' he advised.
Hermione couldn't believe her ears. He was agreeing with her. Obviously, he wanted her gone as well. Not that she could blame him.
Suddenly, Hermione had an idea. The young witch grabbed her wand and stood up, her back towards the ledge and the river below. She looked at her wand, pointed at her chest, and stared up into the night sky before turning towards Severus.
'You know, I always thought you were the best Professor at…Hogwarts,' she said quietly. She offered him a small smile.
Severus' breath caught in his chest. He prayed, prayed to God that he knew what she was going to do, what spell she was going to use.
With a small smile, Hermione inhaled and exhaled deeply before uttering the words that brought hope to Severus' ears.
Avada Kedavra!
With a green flash, the woman was knocked squarely in the chest by the power of her own wand, and she flew back into the river below, making a splash in the night air.
Severus scowled.
On one hand, he was relieved. Very relieved. For one cannot kill themselves using the Avada curse. She was still alive, just…knocked out. On the other hand, this meant he had to go fishing for her in the river below. Something he could be less than interested in doing on this chilly evening.
Severus carefully trotted down the grassy-sloped bank, and stepping knee deep in the water, scooped the lifeless form of Hermione Granger into his arms. She was drenched and still as she lay in his arms. He took a moment to regard her lifeless form, how peaceful her face was, the river washing her tears, and her pain away.
Severus inhaled and exhaled deeply.
'You are a foolish, and stupid woman. Especially for a Doctor,' he mumbled under his breath while still holding her in the river, his face twisted in disgust. 'Why must you do this to us…to me' he whispered, looking at her face once again. He had only one true thing to say to her; one thing that he wished she was conscious enough to hear, one thing that he meant from the bottom of his heart:
'I'm sorry Hermione. So very sorry…'