Looking Beyond: Chapter Thirty-Five: Brush With Death

Ron kicked savagely at the wall, anger and worry adding to his crazy bundle of emotions that he was currently feeling and doing him no good. He glanced viciously back at where Lockhart lay, knocked out from a rock. Yes, he would admit that it was him, using a rock. It was all his fault anyways. He deserved a good few knocks to the head.

He stopped cold when he heard the pain-filled scream that echoed through the chamber, and then he broke a hole large enough to slip through and he raced down the tunnel in the direction Hope must have gone, coming to a stop before the door.

He wrenched and pried at the metal snakes since there was no handle, but the door wouldn't budge.

"Come on!" he complained, kicking at it with an already aching foot. "Open up!"

He screwed his eyes shut and focused on trying to remember what Hope had said up at the top of the pipe, that word in Parseltongue. He gave it a shot, allowing a strangled hiss to leave his lips, sounding much like it had when Hope had said it. Still, he was a bit surprised when the door swung open and he almost vaulted through it.

"Hope!"

Everything was hazy and fuzzy to Hope, the pain spreading outwards from her arm, the poison filtering through her body, strangling her from the inside out as she stumbled towards that blur of red and black that was Ginny.

"Hope!"

"Ron?" She mumbled, her eyesight blurring as her friend came beside her, helping to guide her towards his sister, and once she was close enough, she collapsed onto the ground next to her, fumbling blindly for the little diary.

Ron was scowling at the boy who was standing next to his sister –who was still alive, he'd checked–, becoming more solid as the time wore on. And he was holding Hope's wand.

Hope gave a low hacking cough. It was getting harder to breathe; was the air getting heavier, or something? Her fingertips made contact with the flimsy leather cover and she gripped it.

"You're dead, Hope Potter," Riddle said with relish. "Dead. And I'm going to sit here and watch you die, and watch how your friend reacts." He smirked. "Take your time. I'm in no hurry."

Hope flipped the book open, ignoring him, pulling out the fang from her arm, crying out and making Ron pale. Was she really going to die? "Hope," he whispered, "you're not going to die."

She looked up and gave him a bright smile even though the color was fading from her cheeks and the light from her eyes. "Ronald Weasley," she said fondly, "I'm glad I met you." And then she raised the fang and punctured it into the open pages of the book.

"NO!" Riddle screamed as ink spilled from the puncture mark, and, stunned, Ron stared as the boy twisted in on himself before exploding into a flash of light, letting Hope's wand clatter to the ground.

"Good," Hope hissed through clenched teeth. "Now I can die in peace."

"Shut up!" Ron said furiously as a beautiful crimson and gold bird fluttered down to land beside them. "You're not dying!"

"You know I hate stating the obvious," Hope slurred, smiling at the bird, "'lo Fawkes."

The phoenix trilled a few low keening notes as Ginny began to stir.

"I'm so tired…" Hope said slowly, her eyes falling shut, feeling as though her blood had turned to sludge.

"Don't fall asleep!" Ron ordered, slapping her cheeks and making her head loll slightly. "You can't—" and then he stopped, his eyes falling to where the phoenix had bent its head over the spot of her arm, the spot where she had pulled that fang from. The spot was still covered in blood, but the wound had disappeared completely.

Hope groaned, bowing her head forward slightly. "Can we take a really long nap after this?"

Ron gave a noise that was somewhere between laughing and crying. "You can sleep all you like, I promise."

"Good."

Ginny gave a similar groan as she finally awoke.

"Ginny!" Ron cried in relief as his little sister sat up, and he couldn't resist pulling her into his arms. Seeing her brother and having him hold her was enough to break the dam and a flood of tears and wails left her as she threw her arms around him.

Hope couldn't help but watch the pair in amusement, rubbing her eyes in an attempt to rid them of sleep. Fawkes hopped onto her knee and trilled a few notes to her that made the hammering in her skull and the ache of her back dull slightly. She gave him a drowsy smile, reaching out a hand to pet the feathers of his wings with the back of her hand.

She could see now what Dumbledore had meant about him being quite handsome.

"Thank you," she whispered to him, and he merely blinked his eyes at her, canting his head to side slightly as if he didn't understand. He fluttered up to her shoulder as she stood up, stumbling as she did so and almost falling again, but regaining her balance at the last second.

"Oh…yeah," Hope blinked and stared at the carcass of the basilisk. "The things that slip your mind," she murmured to herself with a weak chuckle.

"Alright, Ginny?" she asked in between a yawn as the girl's tears died down to sniffles. Ginny nodded sorrowfully.

"I'm going to be e-expelled!" she bemoaned.

"No," Hope said firmly, "somehow I think that's going to be the last thing that's going to happen. No one can blame you for all this, you didn't do this of your own will, and Professor McGonagall will understand."

Ginny didn't look like she agreed, the tears still streaming down her face with no sign of stopping.

"I suppose we should go find Lockhart and get out of here," Hope mused aloud.

These past two days had been too exhausting in Hope's honest opinion. Retelling everything that they'd done over the past year, excluding the Polyjuice, of course, to Dumbledore (who had returned from his dismissal by the governors) had been incredibly draining. Hope had been a bit reluctant to hand over Godric Gryffindor's sword, but what could you do? Ron and Hope had received awards to the school, but the two of them had insisted on Hermione receiving one as well, after all, if she hadn't been petrified, they would have figured out just what had caused the attacks weeks ago. The issue of Ginny's involvement had been resolved and Hope had managed to free Dobby the House-elf from his servitude to the Malfoy family.

All in a day's work for Hope Potter.

"Can you ever not get into trouble?"

Hope froze before shifting her eyes to the left where George Weasley was leaning against the wall in his pajamas. Hope's cheeks filled with heat as she realized that she was covered in dirt, grime, slime, and blood.

"I'm kind of attracted to trouble," she said cheekily, flouncing over to stand by his side, "it's why we're friends…or did you not get that memo?"

"Oi, cheeky," George said with a grin that lit up his face, "I may have to prank you for that."

"Oh, you wouldn't dare," Hope disagreed with an even brighter smile. Now that the basilisk was dead, everything seemed so much brighter and happier and funnier. It was funny to think of it like that, but it was absolutely true. "You've met your match, George Weasley."

He arched a crimson eyebrow towards the girl. "My match? You really think so?"

Hope gave a light laugh bouncing onto the balls of her feet and the tips of her toes. "Oh, absolutely," she said cheerfully, swinging herself in a circle, closing her eyes before skipping off in the direction of the Great Hall.

George stood still for a few seconds, his mouth gaping slightly as he stared after her. "Oi, wait!" he yelled, racing after her until he caught up with her just outside the Great Hall. "Merlin, woman, you can run!" he said in surprise as they walked in together, Hope earning a loud raucous applause from a good three-fourths of the room making Hope turn absolutely scarlet, ducking her head and moving to a free spot at the table and burying her face in her arms even as she received many thumps on her back. And then Ron entered and he received the same sort of welcome, and he handled it much like Hope had, turning the exact shade of cherries, but beaming as he came to sit at Gryffindor table.

Hope recovered enough to lift her face from the table, but she looked rather like she had a bad sunburn.

The party in the Great Hall lasted all night so Hope and Ron virtually forgot that they'd been awake for over two days and simply enjoyed the festivities.

"Hope!" George called from the opposite side of the table, grinning again and nodding towards the front of the hall. "Look who's here!"

Hope and Ron twisted to see a familiar head of bushy hair.

Hermione Granger beamed as her two friends stood up suddenly from the Gryffindor table to stare, and then she was running down the aisle, yelling in exuberance, "You solved it! You solved it!"

She threw her arms around Hope as the two laughed and cried, embracing each other firmly before dragging Ron into the mix, much to his embarrassment. And then a number of congratulations went around to Hermione.

It seemed to be a day of red faces.

"Next time," Hope said, wiping at her grimy face, "next time tell us what you're thinking when there's a monster on the loose, alright?"

"I promise," Hermione laughed as her friends piled food onto her plate.

Hope fell asleep halfway through desert after Hagrid's release from Azkaban and return to Hogwarts, despite all the excitement, only to wake up a day and a half later in the hospital wing.

"My illustrious patient returns," Madam Pomfrey said in a wry voice as Hope sat up in her bed, scrubbing at her eyes and groaning slightly. "I'm starting to miss our little chats."

Hope chuckled nervously. "Don't worry, Poppy, at least you'll probably still see me once a year."

"I'm overjoyed," she said dryly, ignoring how she casually used her first name, placing a tray of food on her lap. "Do try not to make a habit of staying up for days on end, Miss Potter, its rather detrimental to your health."

"I had no idea," Hope said sarcastically, spreading jam onto her toast and taking a rather vicious bite of it, "I mean, it's not like Ron and I didn't just find and kill a basilisk."

Madam Pomfrey pointed her wand offensively at her patient. "Don't make me spell you, Miss Potter, you know I will."

"But if you did that your life would become less fun," Hope wheedled with a grin, finishing her breakfast at an incredibly fast rate and setting the tray aside and swinging her legs over the side of the bed, allowing Madam Pomfrey to tap her wand along her formerly lame leg.

"You haven't been limping for a while now," she noticed, "are you having any pain?"

Hope gulped down the last of her pumpkin juice. "Nope, not for a few months, at least."

Madam Pomfrey smiled. "That's good, that's really good. The muscle atrophy has lessened since you've been using your leg again, but if you want to really get back up to speed, I would suggest some kind of exercise for your legs, running perhaps?"

Hope groaned, her shoulders slumping slightly. "I suppose I'll have to, wont I?"

Madam Pomfrey tried very hard to keep a straight face when faced with Hope's pout. Hope picked at the two rings that she always wore, smiling lightly.

"Thinking about your young man?"

Was it really possible for someone to blush that red? Madam Pomfrey couldn't help but smirk at how flustered she got.

"I do love how your mind jumped to Mr. Weasley right away," she said, humored.

Hope buried her face in her hands in an effort to hide embarrassment.

"The school year's almost over," she noted. "Are you going to say anything to him?"

Hope bit her lip slightly, a look of indecision gracing her face. "I'm brave, Poppy, but I'm not that brave."

And that time, she was being completely honest, and Madam Pomfrey had to exercise a bit of self-control to not mention the betting pool that had encompassed at least three-fourths of the school. So she simply settled for wishing Hope a good holiday, to which she had simply snorted.

She had forgotten that Hope hated summer holiday. So, she just watched as Hope left the hospital wing in much brighter spirits when she saw her friends waiting for her outside.

And for a second Hope forgot about having to return to the Dursleys and just basked in the warmth of being with her friends.