DIASPORA
Chapter Two
By Alicia Jennings
-
PART A
-
Ron stared at the stone gargoyle in front of him. "Oh no. I don't know the password."
Hogwarts was the same as always - trick doors, staircases with steps that weren't really there, Peeves, moving pictures...and hidden gateways. His head pounded as he tried to think of what the password might be.
"Ummm....Chocolate Frog, Blood Pop, Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans...wait, Harry used to say he didn't like them...Flossing toothmints, um...."
Ron heard footsteps, and he slowly turned around. Then, he beheld a sight he hadn't seen in three years, three very long years.
A woman, with tons of long, curly hair, was walking toward him, her head bent and eyes on the floor. She wore a sky-blue colored robe. Her hands were clasped, and on her left hand was a simple ring - white gold, a simply cut diamond. She wiped her eyes - apparently, she'd been crying - and looked up, stopping in her tracks.
"Ron Weasley," she murmured. "I haven't......seen you....."
"In three years," he finished for her. "It's been too long, Hermione. Harry wouldn't like it. He wouldn't like it at all." His voice cracked, and he couldn't find his words, so he just stood there.
"I know, I know." She began to cry again. "It's so hard, though! Why did he have to go and make living so difficult?" Ron embraced her, and she sobbed into his shoulder. "People say he can't be dead, but he might as well be, for all we know! It's like he's already gone!"
"Don't talk like that, Hermione," Ron said softly. "There's always hope."
"I've been hoping for years, Ron! Years! And nothing's happened! I've hoped, prayed....still, he isn't here! I'm twenty-one today, Ron. I was eighteen when he disappeared! So was he!" Hermione pounded her fist on Ron's chest, pleading. "Please, can't you understand how desperate and hopeless it all is? How lonely I am always, day and night?"
Ron didn't say anything. He simply held Hermione as she cried all her reserved tears.
"They all tell me they're sorry," she whispered, looking into Ron's eyes. "But they don't even know what it's like. Why couldn't have Harry taken me with him?"
-
PART B
Dumbledore sat at his desk, in his big, blue velvet chair. A bowl sat before him, with inscriptions on the rim. It was filled with what looked like silvery liquid mercury. However, this was anything but mercury. This was the Pensieve, the thing that kept his memories for him, the thing that kept memories he did not wish to see. In his long life, he had many of those memories...
Dumbledore idly drew his wand out, turning it over in his hands. Gradually, he extended it into the silver, into a memory that took place three years earlier.
-----
"Dumbledore, it's rather urgent....Hermione needs to see you." Minerva McGonagall straightened her dark blue robes, her usually emotionless face strained. Everyone felt the strain these days, what with Voldemort still on the rampage and now their savior gone. "You've got to talk some...sense...or whatever....into her. She's going crazy."
Dumbledore looked out the window, at the drab, wet Hogwarts landscape. His eyes that were usually so full of sparkle were now dark. The face that seemed to live for laughter was carved with deep lines of sorrow. "I can't do this, Minerva."
"If you can't do it, Dumbledore," she whispered, "Who can? Our world as we know it is depending on you. You can't give up."
Dumbledore continued to look out the window. Finally, after a long pause, he nodded. "Send her in."
Professor McGonagall nodded silently, and exited the office. Then Hermione came in.
She looked very much together - her face was emotionless, and devoid of any tears. Her appearance was neat and kempt. Her bloodshot eyes gave her away, though.
"Hello, Professor Dumbledore."
Dumbledore motioned to a chair. "Please sit, Hermione." Hermione sat down, timidly, as if she were afraid. Dumbledore sat opposite of her, behind the big desk. "I was wanting to discuss your current living situation."
"What current living situation? I'm living here, at the castle."
Dumbledore nodded. "I want to give you sanctuary here until Harry returns. I think it is safe and wise; plus, it will give you something to do. Professor Flitwick is stepping down, and I would like you to take his place. It seems wise."
Hermione didn't speak, simply nodded.
"I have already spoken with the Professor to see if he will train you for the job. He was more than willing to do so over the summer holiday. You should be able to start teaching by the new school year. If Harry returns before then and you two can go about your normal lives, you will be free to go."
Hermione's togetherness broke. "Thank you," she whispered, through tears.
Dumbledore reached across the desk and patted her small hand. "Things will be okay, Mrs. Potter."
--
Now, back in the present, things were still not okay, Dumbledore mused to himself. Hermione was still here teaching, her husband still missing. And Voldemort still walked the earth.
His thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door.
-
Hermione, leaning on Ron's shoulder, felt numb and empty. She hadn't cried so much in a long time. The door in front of them opened, and they were hurried in.
"Are you two all right?" asked Dumbledore, looking at them, concerned. Ron and Hermione both simultaneously shook their heads. "Have a seat."
Gladly, Hermione did. "Dumbledore, is he ever going to return? Ever?" Ron sat down and took her hand.
"I was just asking myself the same thing," answered Dumbledore. "And I don't know, Hermione. I really don't." He was interrupted by another knock. "Yes?"
The door opened slowly. "Professor?" Red hair, petite figure, dressed in a black business suit.
"Ginny?" Ron breathed. "I haven't seen you in months! Why haven't you called?"
"I - I - don't know," stammered Ginny. "I've been really busy at the office."
Hermione sat in her chair, thinking. Surely fate wouldn't have brought this bunch together for nothing.
Dumbledore motioned for Ginny to sit. "And I presume you're here about Harry, too?" She nodded mutely. "Well, for the love of....something's going on. We wouldn't all be here for nothing."
Hermione nodded, every inch of her heart aching. How she longed for her husband! More than the longing for life itself! As the Weasleys and Dumbledore talked for half an hour, she sat in a stupor, remembering what Harry was like, and feeling that she might never see him again. She drifted back into reality just to hear Ron say "...isn't it about time to give him a decent funeral?"
"No!" Hermione jumped up, tears coming forth again. "He's not dead! He can't be! We'd know! Don't you think Voldemort would rub it in our faces? HE'S NOT DEAD!" Her breath shuddered, came in short gasps. "He's not!"
"Hermione, sit, and calm down," said Ron. "Think about it logically! Three years!"
Hermione shook her head over and over, like a small child would. "He's not dead. I'd feel it." More tears came. "You would, too."
"Please, Hermione, be sens -" A rattle in the window caught his attention, and then he continued. "Be sensible. Ron's right - it has been three -" The window rattled again. "What in the world......?"
Night had fallen, and stars were visible. Dumbledore threw open the window and looked around. Then, a voice -
"Please! Let me in!"
"Who are you?" asked Dumbledore suspiciously. But before he could get a straight answer, a person in black and on a broom landed on the floor of Dumbledore's office.
Hermione's heart gave a hopeful lurch when she saw unruly locks of black hair, and the Firebolt label on the broom. The stranger removed his hood.
-----
Author's Note:
Short, I know, but at least I wrote! I apologize for not writing in MONTHS. I hope to start writing more again soon! Review if you want a third chapter, and I mean it!
-Love from Alicia
Chapter Two
By Alicia Jennings
-
PART A
-
Ron stared at the stone gargoyle in front of him. "Oh no. I don't know the password."
Hogwarts was the same as always - trick doors, staircases with steps that weren't really there, Peeves, moving pictures...and hidden gateways. His head pounded as he tried to think of what the password might be.
"Ummm....Chocolate Frog, Blood Pop, Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans...wait, Harry used to say he didn't like them...Flossing toothmints, um...."
Ron heard footsteps, and he slowly turned around. Then, he beheld a sight he hadn't seen in three years, three very long years.
A woman, with tons of long, curly hair, was walking toward him, her head bent and eyes on the floor. She wore a sky-blue colored robe. Her hands were clasped, and on her left hand was a simple ring - white gold, a simply cut diamond. She wiped her eyes - apparently, she'd been crying - and looked up, stopping in her tracks.
"Ron Weasley," she murmured. "I haven't......seen you....."
"In three years," he finished for her. "It's been too long, Hermione. Harry wouldn't like it. He wouldn't like it at all." His voice cracked, and he couldn't find his words, so he just stood there.
"I know, I know." She began to cry again. "It's so hard, though! Why did he have to go and make living so difficult?" Ron embraced her, and she sobbed into his shoulder. "People say he can't be dead, but he might as well be, for all we know! It's like he's already gone!"
"Don't talk like that, Hermione," Ron said softly. "There's always hope."
"I've been hoping for years, Ron! Years! And nothing's happened! I've hoped, prayed....still, he isn't here! I'm twenty-one today, Ron. I was eighteen when he disappeared! So was he!" Hermione pounded her fist on Ron's chest, pleading. "Please, can't you understand how desperate and hopeless it all is? How lonely I am always, day and night?"
Ron didn't say anything. He simply held Hermione as she cried all her reserved tears.
"They all tell me they're sorry," she whispered, looking into Ron's eyes. "But they don't even know what it's like. Why couldn't have Harry taken me with him?"
-
PART B
Dumbledore sat at his desk, in his big, blue velvet chair. A bowl sat before him, with inscriptions on the rim. It was filled with what looked like silvery liquid mercury. However, this was anything but mercury. This was the Pensieve, the thing that kept his memories for him, the thing that kept memories he did not wish to see. In his long life, he had many of those memories...
Dumbledore idly drew his wand out, turning it over in his hands. Gradually, he extended it into the silver, into a memory that took place three years earlier.
-----
"Dumbledore, it's rather urgent....Hermione needs to see you." Minerva McGonagall straightened her dark blue robes, her usually emotionless face strained. Everyone felt the strain these days, what with Voldemort still on the rampage and now their savior gone. "You've got to talk some...sense...or whatever....into her. She's going crazy."
Dumbledore looked out the window, at the drab, wet Hogwarts landscape. His eyes that were usually so full of sparkle were now dark. The face that seemed to live for laughter was carved with deep lines of sorrow. "I can't do this, Minerva."
"If you can't do it, Dumbledore," she whispered, "Who can? Our world as we know it is depending on you. You can't give up."
Dumbledore continued to look out the window. Finally, after a long pause, he nodded. "Send her in."
Professor McGonagall nodded silently, and exited the office. Then Hermione came in.
She looked very much together - her face was emotionless, and devoid of any tears. Her appearance was neat and kempt. Her bloodshot eyes gave her away, though.
"Hello, Professor Dumbledore."
Dumbledore motioned to a chair. "Please sit, Hermione." Hermione sat down, timidly, as if she were afraid. Dumbledore sat opposite of her, behind the big desk. "I was wanting to discuss your current living situation."
"What current living situation? I'm living here, at the castle."
Dumbledore nodded. "I want to give you sanctuary here until Harry returns. I think it is safe and wise; plus, it will give you something to do. Professor Flitwick is stepping down, and I would like you to take his place. It seems wise."
Hermione didn't speak, simply nodded.
"I have already spoken with the Professor to see if he will train you for the job. He was more than willing to do so over the summer holiday. You should be able to start teaching by the new school year. If Harry returns before then and you two can go about your normal lives, you will be free to go."
Hermione's togetherness broke. "Thank you," she whispered, through tears.
Dumbledore reached across the desk and patted her small hand. "Things will be okay, Mrs. Potter."
--
Now, back in the present, things were still not okay, Dumbledore mused to himself. Hermione was still here teaching, her husband still missing. And Voldemort still walked the earth.
His thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door.
-
Hermione, leaning on Ron's shoulder, felt numb and empty. She hadn't cried so much in a long time. The door in front of them opened, and they were hurried in.
"Are you two all right?" asked Dumbledore, looking at them, concerned. Ron and Hermione both simultaneously shook their heads. "Have a seat."
Gladly, Hermione did. "Dumbledore, is he ever going to return? Ever?" Ron sat down and took her hand.
"I was just asking myself the same thing," answered Dumbledore. "And I don't know, Hermione. I really don't." He was interrupted by another knock. "Yes?"
The door opened slowly. "Professor?" Red hair, petite figure, dressed in a black business suit.
"Ginny?" Ron breathed. "I haven't seen you in months! Why haven't you called?"
"I - I - don't know," stammered Ginny. "I've been really busy at the office."
Hermione sat in her chair, thinking. Surely fate wouldn't have brought this bunch together for nothing.
Dumbledore motioned for Ginny to sit. "And I presume you're here about Harry, too?" She nodded mutely. "Well, for the love of....something's going on. We wouldn't all be here for nothing."
Hermione nodded, every inch of her heart aching. How she longed for her husband! More than the longing for life itself! As the Weasleys and Dumbledore talked for half an hour, she sat in a stupor, remembering what Harry was like, and feeling that she might never see him again. She drifted back into reality just to hear Ron say "...isn't it about time to give him a decent funeral?"
"No!" Hermione jumped up, tears coming forth again. "He's not dead! He can't be! We'd know! Don't you think Voldemort would rub it in our faces? HE'S NOT DEAD!" Her breath shuddered, came in short gasps. "He's not!"
"Hermione, sit, and calm down," said Ron. "Think about it logically! Three years!"
Hermione shook her head over and over, like a small child would. "He's not dead. I'd feel it." More tears came. "You would, too."
"Please, Hermione, be sens -" A rattle in the window caught his attention, and then he continued. "Be sensible. Ron's right - it has been three -" The window rattled again. "What in the world......?"
Night had fallen, and stars were visible. Dumbledore threw open the window and looked around. Then, a voice -
"Please! Let me in!"
"Who are you?" asked Dumbledore suspiciously. But before he could get a straight answer, a person in black and on a broom landed on the floor of Dumbledore's office.
Hermione's heart gave a hopeful lurch when she saw unruly locks of black hair, and the Firebolt label on the broom. The stranger removed his hood.
-----
Author's Note:
Short, I know, but at least I wrote! I apologize for not writing in MONTHS. I hope to start writing more again soon! Review if you want a third chapter, and I mean it!
-Love from Alicia