"It's a funny thing about coming home.
Nothing changes.
Everything looks the same, feels the same, even smells the same.
You realize what's changed is you."
-Eric Roth
She had vanished.
His eyes wide with panic and his heart pounding painfully in his hollow chest, he stepped into the air that had just held her, his mind incapable of grasping that she had truly disappeared.
Brandishing his wand in his shaking palm, slick with sweat, he quickly cast a tracing charm to try and decipher where she was headed; such a charm had limited range in locating ability but it was worth a shot.
Nothing, no trace at all returned.
Damnit, he thought bitterly, gripping his wand so fiercely he felt the supple wood bend ever so slightly. He sighed and bowed his head, a cold wind whipping across the hill as the sun dipped beneath the horizon.
He should have have known she would occlude her trail but still he hoped she would've left him with something to go on. As it was, with no trace, he had little information to track her whereabouts.
A witch of her brilliance and skill could have apparated anywhere within several thousand miles, thus leaving him at a complete loss as to how on earth to find her.
His heart raced and his addled mind spun trying to parse through it all. Bile rose in his throat, his stomach lurching at the thought that he didn't know where she was. Heart-crushing panic settled upon him and he had to fight hard against the rising tide of outright collapse.
The castle, the bond, Minerva, it all coalesced into a blinding, unbearable weight, resting atop his rather incapable shoulders. He knew he should rush back to the castle to inform the others and try to find a fix to an unfixable problem but as he raised his hand to apparate, he found he couldn't return, not without her.
He sighed, lowering his wand as his mind drew a debilitating blank as to her whereabouts. He turned on the spot and began to pace across the front yard as he grappled with solving the puzzle of where on earth she might go.
She was distraught and in desperate need of comfort and security. Somewhere or something she could depend upon without question. But what would that be for her?
She wasn't headed back to the castle, he concluded, that much was perfectly clear.
Potter? Perhaps.
Weasley? Unlikely, given they hadn't recently spoken.
Black? Christ, he desperately hoped not.
He slowly came to a stop, his feet halting in the thick grass as his eyes swept to the setting sun dipping low and taking with it the last embers of light. Watching the light fade beneath the formidable horizon, visions of her danced before his mind. He let his frantic thoughts of duty and fear ebb away as he just thought of her.
Pink lips, quirked into a warm smile.
Her exquisite eyes, honeyed pools of endless depths.
Soft, delicate fingers, slipping so perfectly into his own.
Each image slowly pieced itself together in his mind, the puzzle gradually taking shape until the very thought of her filled his every sense and soothed his frayed nerves. He may not have known where she was, but he knew her, every part of her, by heart.
He steadied himself, breathing in and filling his lungs deeply with the cold air, and felt his lips part, a soft sound escaping as he closed his eyes.
"Hermione...Hermione," he softly chanted aloud.
He placed his left hand over his chest, just as she had done but one day ago, as a rare feeling of warmth and fullness flooded his desperate heart. It felt curious and reassuring and it took the astute professor a full beat to realize exactly what it was that so swiftly and wholly filled his being and banished the worry and dread.
It was the feeling of faith, a sense of certainty he could hardly ever remember feeling. The feeling seemed to spread to every inch of his body and it would've surprised him greatly were he not suddenly pulled through time and space by the powerful pull of apparition.
He vanished into the dusk of twilight without a clue as to where he would land. But he wasn't afraid this time. Hope filled him like a warm flood of healing water across his weary body as a much stronger pull than usual yanked him across the globe.
He rematerialized several beats later, his eyes flying open with surprise as he whizzed through the wide-open air and landed hard, face-first, on a patch of brown grass. As he lifted his spinning head and his vision steadied, he realized he was on the lawn of a house, overgrown with tremendous tendrils of ivy and jasmine. The home was rundown, the windows boarded-up and the lawn dried and long dead. As he stood and saw the desserted street, the chipped white picket fence and the surrounding well-manicured homes, Severus realized where the spell had brought him.
Hermione's childhood home.
Of course she'd come here.
He hadn't been there in many years, not since her parents' murders, but he'd know it anywhere.
The front door was locked and warded, a condition no doubt created by the witch who wanted nothing to do with him at the moment.
He paused a moment, knowing she wanted to be alone and yet finding himself incapable of honoring her wish. He had to find her, see her, know she was alright. So he drew a deep breath and threw caution to the wind, dismantling the rather thorough wards and magically unlocking the deadbolt.
As he pushed open the creaky door, he was greeted by perfect silence, the light from a nearby lamppost the only light that filled the darkened, dust-filled foyer.
"Hermione?" he called out, but no reply came.
But he knew she was there, could feel it in his very bones.
He stepped in, closing the door behind him, and ventured further into the darkened hallway. He quickly checked the living room to his left, the kitchen and dining room to his right, as well as the downstairs bath. All empty. His heart was pounding, he instinctively knew she was close but not being able to find her was driving him mad.
The first floor cleared, he moved onto the second floor, as he climbed the stairs two at a time, his need to find her mounted with each passing moment. She was hurt and in pain, he needed her, needed to be with her if only to assuage the ache and longing that pulsed through him like a thousand knives the moment she left him.
As he reached the landing he saw several closed doors to his right, all bedrooms, and a study to his left. He intuitively knew where to go. Even before his hand touched the knob, he knew he had found her.
He drew in a deep breath and knocked softly, "Hermione?"
"Go away," she softly called, her voice sounding broken and drained.
"Please, Hermione...may I come in?"
A wave of magic washed over the door and the lock clicked.
He slowly turned the knob and opened the door; a long, slow creak was the only sound that greeted him.
The room was pitch dark and it took his eyes a long moment to adjust before he saw her silhouette. She was seated on a leather couch that had been covered in clear, protective plastic. The whole room, her father's office, was mostly barren. The mantle above the hearth was empty as were the walls, stripped of any and all personal belongings. A half dozen boxes were stacked neatly in the far corner, covered in dust and cobwebs. She held something flat in her hands, a book perhaps, he couldn't see.
"How did you find me?" she asked, her voice flat.
How does the tide find the shore? Or the earth cradle the moon? Because they can't exist without one another, they belong together... that's how, he thought.
"Lucky guess," he finally answered, watching her closely, just barely making the curves of her face out in the darkness.
She sat forward then, coming out of the shadows that seemed to run straight through her, her face was now bathed in pale moonlight streaming in through the curtained window giving her a ghostly appearance. Her eyes were glazed over slightly, and her face expressionless. He glanced down to see she was holding not a book but a picture frame. Her mother, father and her, standing before them and smiling proudly, missing her two front teeth, all of eight, if he had to guess, the very embodiment of youth; happy, boundless, invincible. Looking at her now, broken and weary, he could hardly believe they were the same person. He swallowed hard at the grief welling up within him as he watched her.
Her tired eyes slowly moved across the room, seemingly taking in the empty, dusty space for the first time. He could hardly imagine that this stale, cobweb-filled, darkened house was the place she had grown up, taken her first steps in, opened Christmas presents beside the fireplace, sipped tea with her mother in the kitchen. Everywhere he looked was marred by darkness and loss and he could see that loss reflected perfectly in her somber eyes.
He knew she had apparated home in the hopes of finding some peace, comfort even, but all that remained was dust and memories tarnished by spilt blood. Tears welled in her eyes as she drank in the cold space, a stranger to her now.
"I haven't been back here since-"
"Before their funeral," he answered. "I remember, you wanted to come after their service but I said 'no."
"It would've been too dangerous. Death Eaters could've been waiting here for me," she answered this time, her eyes falling on the cold, empty hearth.
She was right, it would've been far too risky to let her wander around the home only a handful of days after her parents had been murdered. But still, watching her now, so small and lost, he felt that ache bloom once again in his chest. He should have at least tried to find a way to let her say her goodbyes. He wished, not for the first time, that he had done things differently.
"Who packed all of this up?" she finally asked, eyeing the boxes stacked neatly in the corner.
"Minerva and I," he softly answered.
She slowly nodded and finally her eyes settled on him, "Why are you here?" Her tone was neither harsh nor accusatory, merely curious.
"Because I was worried about you," he said truthfully.
Her eyes narrowed at him, her frown deepening.
"Well, I'm fine, as you can see. So you can leave now," she offered succinctly.
She stood abruptly and leaving the picture frame on the couch, striding purposefully past Severus and down the steps.
Against her obvious wish to be left alone, he followed in her wake as he descended the stairs, following her through the kitchen and out a side door.
She was standing in the musty, darkened garage, her back to him. She walked further into the darkness and after a moment pushed against the garage door, the rusty hinge protesting a moment before creaking open. The light of the moon filled the garage with soft gray light, revealing an automobile, covered in a dusty, molded tarp. She stood there, wordlessly staring at the covered car. He slowly followed and came to stand beside her, watching her intently.
Her eyes shined ever so slightly for the first time in days as a faint, sad smile pulled at her lips. Her fingers glided across the tarp but a moment before pulling the covering aside with a quick whip. She let the tarp fall to the floor, a thick cloud of dust glittering in the incandescent light a long moment as it slowly drifted to the floor.
Before them sat a two-seat sports car of deep, rich green, the color of the trees filling the Forbidden Forest on a warm spring day. The edges of the wheel wells had begun to rust and the leather seats had badly cracked. He didn't know much about cars, but could tell from the supple grain of the leather and the gleaming metal on the hood that this particular one had once been well cared for.
"This was my father's," she finally said, the hard edge dwindling ever so slightly from her voice as she slowly walked to the front of the car, her fingers delicately tracing the hood ornament. "He loved this car so much, almost as much as he loved my mum."
She strode to the long, cluttered worktable that flanked the far wall, rummaging through a drawer for a moment before producing a single key.
She turned and passed Severus as if he wasn't even there as she opened the driver's side door and slid atop the torn leather seat.
"What are you doing?" he asked, watching her with worry.
"Going for a drive," she said flatly as she put the key into the ignition.
But after three turns the engine still wouldn't start.
"Battery must be dead," she said softly, her eyes now red-rimmed and her mouth curled into a frown.
"Perhaps it's for the best. I think you're too upset to drive right now," he gently pointed out.
She lifted her eyes at this and stared at him with a stony indifference. Undeterred, she pulled her wand from her pocket and pointed it at the dashboard.
"Reneverate!" she said with equal parts force and anger. The engine immediately sprung to life with a loud, rumbling purr as the smell of leather and gasoline, mingled with crisp night air, soon filled the musty garage.
Hermione's hands gripped the wheel, her fingers clasping it with determination, as she put the car into reverse and eyed the rear view mirror.
"Hermione, where are you going?" he demanded.
"Anywhere but here," she answered firmly, as she turned slightly and peered over her shoulder, eyeing the street with purpose.
"You shouldn't be alone right now," he pointed out, the feeling of panic flooding him once more at the thought of losing her yet again.
He quickly pulled the passenger side door open and slid into the seat. Slamming his door shut, she said not a word, but instead pealed out of the gravel driveway and as the tires hit the smooth paved street, she shifted the gears and sped away from the gloomy house full of once-happy memories.
The roads were mercifully empty as she sped through twists and turns, shifting the gearstick and taking hairline turns as if she'd done it a thousand times.
And maybe she had, what did he know.
Her eyes were trained straight ahead, hardly even blinking as the air whipped through her hair like a kite tail, viciously twisting and tangling the fine strands but she hardly seemed to notice.
"Where are we going?" he finally asked, watching her intently as a feeling of dread began to bloom deep in his gut.
She didn't answer, but instead pressed her foot harder on the gas peddle, hurtling them even faster down the deserted streets of Surrey.
"You're clearly upset, you shouldn't be driving," he said loudly over the whirling air and purr of the engine but she ignored him.
"Hermione, slow down," he said sharply.
She only sped up, her foot stomping down hard on the gas.
"Slow down, god damnit! You're gonna kill us both!" he shouted as she took a sudden, sharp left and the car skidded sideways and for a long moment it felt like they were flying.
His heart nearly stopped all together as seconds stretched on until finally the screech of rubber against asphalt and the horrendous crunch of gravel greeted their ears as the car came to a merciful stop on the shoulder of a deserted road, the air around them now heavy with dust and kicked up sand.
His chest heaving and his eyes wide, he turned to see her gripping the wheel with white knuckles, her own eyes wide, her delicate mouth agape as she gasped for breath.
"What were you thinking?! We've could've been killed!" he shouted.
She only stared straight ahead, her body shaking. She was clearly in shock.
"Hermione," he tried more gently, "are you alright?" he asked, reaching a hand to her shoulder.
Her trancelike state seemed to vanish then, the touch of his hands bringing her back to life.
"Don't touch me!" she cried, as she recoiled from him like a frightened animal and kicked open the car door, scrambling free and bolting down the tree-lined road with all her might.
"Hermione! Wait!" he shouted as he sprung from his seat and raced after her.
"Just leave!" she shouted over her shoulder, racing away at a furious pace.
"Hermione! Hermione!" he begged as his long legs caught up to her and he grabbed ahold of her, forcefully spinning her around to see her face completely drenched in sweat and tears, her small body shaking in his hands.
"Let go of me!" she wailed, struggling to free herself once more, but he wouldn't let her go. He couldn't lose her, not again.
"No, not till you calm down!" he commanded, his body desperate to hold her, calm her.
"You can't tell me what to do! I'm not your property or your friend or your concern!" she screamed.
"You need to listen to me and calm down! Trust me, please!" he begged.
"You come to me, reeking of her perfume, covered in her lipstick and you expect me to trust you?!" she shrieked. "Why don't you go back to your whore!"
"Nothing happened with Narcissa! She's of no consequence to me!" he tried but she only struggled harder against his firm grasp.
"You lying, conniving bastard! I hate you! I'll never trust you again! So just leave!"
"I'm not leaving you here!" he roared.
"Fucking go!" she shouted as she roughly yanked her arm from his grasp and smacked his face with all her might.
He recoiled, releasing her from his grasp and watched in sorrow as she stumbled back from him, angry and spent.
"You don't want to be here!" she screamed, her face covered in tears, spilling one after another down her reddened cheeks.
"I do, I do," he earnestly countered, his body heaving from the effort of it all.
"Why!?" she cried. "There's no point anymore!"
"I made you a promise and I intend to keep it," he softly replied.
"A promise? That's why you're here?!" she wailed, her voice desperate and wrathful. "Honor bound to uphold your word? If that's all that's keeping you here then you should leave. Because there's nothing left to fix. The castle is going to collapse, it's only a matter of time."
"We can try to-"
"No! Can't you see?! It can't be fixed! None of this can be fixed!" she shouted, her whole body heaving, her face twisted with raw fear and sorrow.
She wrapped her arms around her body and bowed forward, heaving tears and gulping for air. He stood perfectly still, wanting to hold her but felt, more than ever, both undeserving and incapable.
"You know," she declared, her voice choked with emotion, "I've foolishly believed if I could just save the school then...then everything I've sacrificed, all my hard work would finally mean something. But that's just not possible now," she defeatedly admitted.
"We may have won the war," she whispered, "but I've lost so very much it hardly seems like a victory now. I've lost everything I've ever loved...my parents, the school...and you," she softly uttered, her eyes now holding his with a grief that stole the very breath from his chest.
"Hermione, I-" he tried but she could only shake her head, her eyes filling with endless tears.
"You know you had me pegged wrong all these years," she tearfully countered, "I wasn't trying to be an insufferable know-it-all to show off-"
"You know I didn't mean that-" he tried.
"I was doing it," she pointedly declared, the tears spilling down her trembling face, "to try and protect myself. I thought, if I was just smart enough, or dedicated enough, then I could protect myself...somehow ward off all of life's cruelties. Be one step ahead, you know? Outsmart life," she chuckled bitterly.
She shook her head sadly as she looked out at the moonlit trees, the tears glistening on her reddened cheeks in the moonlight, a lost look in her eyes he had never seen before.
"My greatest fear was never defeat," she softly uttered, her body gradually slowing, "I wasn't even afraid to die. My greatest fear has always been losing what I love. Because having something to cherish is so rare. Being loved isn't the greatest gift in life, but rather having something to love, someone to give your love to, someone willing to accept your love, that's the real thing worth fighting for. But look where it's gotten me? I'm all alone and all the things I've held so dear, that I've poured my heart and soul into, they're all gone," she breathed. "So...I think I'm ready to give up now," she whispered, her voice hoarse as she slowly sunk to her knees, her head coming to rest in her small hands and the soft whimper of her sobs the only sound filling the quiet night air.
He could bear no more. He knelt in the dirt beside her, his arms aching to encircle her, his lips burning to kiss her skin, his heart bursting to comfort her. He swallowed hard, his throat burning with raw fire, with enough self-hatred to drown his pathetic soul. Watching all the tremendous grief she so valiantly held back for so long, erupting from deep within, her walls broken wide open, he couldn't help but hate himself anew for all the grief that had followed her and how he now saw, he added to that burden.
"You're not alone. I'm here," he gently declared, his body so close to hers.
"But you don't want to be," she tearfully replied.
"Maybe I do."
"You're lying."
"No, I'm not," he countered truthfully, "I want to be here. So you can't give up yet. We'll find a way, Hermione, you must believe me."
"How?"
"I don't know yet," he answered plainly, "but I promise to stay by your side and figure this out."
She only shook her head, before looking at him, her eyes full of pain.
"I...I don't want you to stay out of obligation. I don't want to be one more thing in your life that you feel compelled to do. I'm not Harry or Albus or…Lily. You owe me nothing."
"You're not an obligation, Hermione. I stayed all these years to protect Harry and try in some small way to avenge Lily's death, to repay Albus for taking me in and giving me another chance. All of that was obligation, but this," he said, looking deeply into her eyes, "this is different."
"How can I believe that after everything you said to me last night?" she tearfully asked.
"I know I've broken your trust...such a sacred thing to be so cavalier with," he whispered. "So if you truly want me to leave, I will. I wouldn't blame you one bit if you wanted nothing more to do with me. But please know that what I want, more than anything, is make this up to you...to fix all the things I've broken. You trusted me enough to bind your magic to mine, so please, please..." he softly begged, "give me another chance, and I swear I will stay by your side and find a way through this mess even if it's the last thing I do."
Of all the terrible thoughts that had swirled through her mind since he threw her out, the most terrible one had been that he had meant what he had said: that he could never love her, that she meant nothing to him.
He slipped his hand into hers and in that moment she felt herself find the very thing she had been chasing with a frantic desire for the last day. Nothing, not a single thing on this earth, compared to the warmth of it, caressing her, easing her pain and suffering. The feel of him near, the smell of his clothes, the look of concern in his soulful eyes. All the loneliness vanished and she felt like the only truth she had ever know settled deep within: no matter what he had done, she still loved him and needed him, desperately so.
She lifted her weary eyes and watched him, his head bowed and his gaze settled upon their clasped hands, his face unguarded.
Maybe he was lying now, maybe he had always been lying, what did she know.
She shouldn't trust him; it would only lead to her ruination. And yet she knew herself well enough to know, she always would.
"I can't do this alone," she gently offered.
"You don't have to," he reassured, his eyes meeting hers once more as his thumb slowly caressed her delicate fingers.
She nodded at this, not trusting her voice to answer without breaking.
They sat in silence for a while, simply listening to the wind whistling through the trees. Finally Severus said, "We should get going."
She nodded once more as he stood and reached down to help pull her to her feet. He gently wrapped his arm around her slight frame for support and this time she didn't shrink from his touch. She leaned against him, holding on just as tightly as he did and together they slowly made their way back to the car.
"Can you drive?" she softly asked, looking up at him with such tenderness and ache.
"Of course," he replied, his heart clenching with pride and purpose as her beautiful eyes looked up at him with longing and a trust he truthfully did not deserve.
He helped her first into the passenger seat and then slid in behind the wheel. Starting the engine, he slowly pulled back onto the empty road, the darkness surrounding them save for the gentle light of the waxing moon above.
They didn't speak at all on the way back to the castle. Not when he parked the car in her parents' garage. Not when he carefully covered the automobile once more and locked and warded the door. Not when she took one last look at her decrepit childhood home. As she joined him on the front lawn, he simply took her hand in his as the pull of apparition yanked them both as one to the moonlit verdant grass of the castle.
Walking side-by-side back through the torch-lit, empty hallways, Hermione didn't see the all the damage that still remained. The smashed stone, the broken stairs, the shattered glass seemed to all disappear. Instead of scorched grass, she saw where she had sat countless times with Harry and Ron, studying, laughing, drinking in the crisp mountain air. Instead of a dark and barren skyless Great Hall, she saw only floating, twinkling candlelight and tables full of students, the room a bright kaleidoscope of color and joy. Instead of a crumbled archway she saw the spot where Draco pulled her to safety. This was the place where countless good people had fought with every ounce of strength to save not just a building, but the very best of humanity. It was far from perfect, but she couldn't imagine it as anything less so. It was her home.
They could hear the shouting well before the stone griffin opened onto Minerva's office. Stepping out into the crowded space, they entered without being noticed. Every professor was in attendance, along with countless elves, all crammed into the space and shouting for answers. Remus, Harry, Draco, Neville, Luna and Sirius were all seated beside Minerva's polished desk, looking grim. Minerva, too, was seated at her desk, a look of anguish and despair plain upon her pale face as she faced the furor of the angry mob.
Aurora, her face like thunder, stood before the seated crowd, a copy of the morning's Daily Prophet clenched in her fist.
"Is the castle harming us?" she pointedly asked Minerva, her mouth set in a hard line.
Murmurs of approval rippled across the room.
"We shouldn't be here if you can't guarantee our safety!" yelled another.
"We want answers!" Aurora demanded, causing the assembled group to roar in approval.
"As I've stated several times now, when Professor Snape and Miss Granger return from their fact-finding mission, we will have answers," Minerva offered wearily.
But this did little to assuage the dangerous tide of resentment swelling among the ranks.
"Damn you, Minerva!" Aurora shouted, slamming her fist hard atop Minerva's desk, "Are we or are we not safe?!"
The room erupted in a wail of righteous anger. Hermione looked at Severus but a moment before stepping out from the shadowy edge of the crowd and uttering, "You're right, you're all right."
The room quieted in an instant and all eyes fell to Hermione as she came to stand before the desk and face the wary crowd.
"A magical bond holds this entire castle, and all its magic, together. This powerful bond was formed by Rowena Ravenclaw and it's contained within the Mirror of Erised. The mirror was damaged in the battle which broke the bond. This bond has been siphoning magic from everyone here in a feeble attempt to sustain itself."
"Can it be stopped?" asked Draco, his mother seated beside him, looking equally severe.
"As far as we can tell, no. We've been advised to destroy the bond and the mirror. Once destroyed, the castle will crumble soon after," Hermione answered.
"And if we don't destroy the bond?" asked Remus.
"If we can't fix it, then the bond will slowly drain each of us of our magic and will continue to spread outward until it siphons every last drop of magic from this world. No magical person or creature would be safe as long as the broken bond exists," Hermione stated simply.
A horrified gasp rippled around the cramped room, each and every occupant sharing a look of terrified disbelief.
"The papers were right! We have to destroy the bond and leave! Immediately!" shouted Pomona.
Murmurs of approval shot through the room, but Hermione pressed on.
"You can all leave, it's no doubt the smart thing to do. But I'm staying and I will find a way to seal the bond and protect the school."
"Love, you're talking crazy, this is too dangerous," Sirius gravely replied.
"This castle is all I have left. It's been more a home to me than I've ever known. And if we let the castle fall, what will become of magic? Where will students go?" she asked.
"The ministry can build another school!" Madam Hooch replied.
"And when might that be?" Hermione asked. "When the ministry finds the time, the money, and the effort? 10 years from now? 20? 100?"
"You're being ridiculous! It won't be that long, besides children can be educated at home!" Professor Flitwick offered.
"Magical-born children, yes, their parents can teach them, but what about muggle-borns, like me?" Hermione uttered, her face full of doubt. "If Hogwarts hadn't existed when I was young, I would have grown up ostracized, abused by my peers, shunted into an insane asylum, all the while thinking that something terrible was wrong with me. If this school crumbles, every muggle-born in Britain will suffer the weight of living in a world totally unaccepting of their kind. I can't let that happen. I simply can't," she pleaded.
"I know that men like Tom Riddle are not born hating the world," she pressed on, "they learn it, are taught it. Without a guiding light to kindle a fire of knowledge and curiosity, those with magic who have no framework to learn and accept their gift will find only fear and darkness to welcome them. I will not let this place, this beacon of truth and light and hope be blotted out, not if I can help it. I'm asking you all, each of you, for one more day. One day to try and fix this bond."
"So you suggest we stay and jeopardize our magical essence. Child, do you know what you're asking of us? Another school can and will be built, but once a wizard or witch sacrifices their essence, they'll die," Aurora asked.
"There are no known cases of recovery, dearest," Poppy gently offered.
"I'd rather live without magic forever and even risk my life for this than admit I turned my back on this place," Hermione declared. "This is my home, and I'm staying until I can fix it or it collapses, whichever comes first."
"You all can stay, the more of us that are here, the more that we can share in the magical load, or you can leave," she added, her eyes sweeping across the many fearful occupants. "No more secrets, no more obligations. If you stay, it will be by your own doing. That goes for all elves as well, you are free to leave."
Worry seemed to ripple across the room like a wave as nervous, unsure looks were exchanged.
"If you cared...if you ever cared, I'm asking you to stay," she implored the crowd.
Silence reigned for the longest of moments and Hermione was certain she had lost the battle.
But to her immense surprise, Minerva slowly stood up, leaning heavily upon her cane, "I'm staying," she offered proudly, with a nod to Hermione. "I'm with you."
"I'll stay," said Sirius, followed by Harry, Luna and Neville.
"Me, as well," said Madam Hooch, standing with a sigh.
"Anything for you, Hermione," said Hagrid, fidgeting nervously but trying hard not to show it.
"I'll stay," said Draco followed by Narcissa, who clutched her son's hand with a warm smile.
Hermione felt her heart lighten as one by one, the faculty, staff and many elves began to stand. Severus stepped forward to stand beside her now.
As the room slowly stood, the last to remain seated was Aurora. All eyes fell to her as Hermione watched her, waiting. Aurora shook her head and heaved a great sigh before at last rising to her feet. "One day, young lady," she offered sternly, "That's all, do you understand me? After that, if the bond can not be fixed, I need your word that it will be destroyed."
"I understand, you have my word," Hermione solemnly vowed. "Thank you, thank you all for your trust," Hermione whispered, tears glistening in her eyes as she smiled ever so gently to the assembled crowd.
"Well, alright then, what do you want us to do then?" Aurora asked expectantly.
Hermione glanced at Severus, a small smile pulling at his lips as he offered a simple nod of encouragement. A swell of hope bloomed in her chest and she drew a deep breath.
"Well, first thing's first, we need to-" Hermione began but was cut short by a collective gasp, the eyes of every occupant trained as one upon Minerva.
Confused, Hermione whipped around to see Minerva sway, her eyes fluttering shut as her hand slipped loose from her cane and she crumbled to the ground.
Poppy screamed, a blood-curdling utterance ripped from her lungs as everyone jumped from their seats to rush towards the stricken headmistress.
Hermione ran to Minerva's side. Her eyes wide and heart pounding, Hermione knelt beside the headmistress, who lay immobile, unconscious and struggling to breathe.