Disclaimer: No I don't own Harry Potter etc. J K Rowling does. Elianne is my own character though. And the poetry is definitely mine, and only mine.
Author's Note: this chapter was originally meant to be part of chapter 11 but it got too long and I think it goes better on its own anyway. Chapter 12 "What Could Have Been"-------
For every hero
There is
One person
Who wishes
That they hadn't had to die
However great their feat
For every hero
For all the world
That rejoices
There will be
One person
Crying silently
That it's unfair
--------
That week had been a wash over her head. Without Elianne she didn't know what to do. There was always work but what else was there when work was too much. There was no one else to talk to.
She was alone.
And the clock ticked over and over, reminding her of the emptiness.
And the page of calendar reminded her further.
That it was time once again.
So she went over to the window, cleared the pane and glanced out to see a few odd lights in the sky. Anyone else would have thought them to be fireworks but she knew better.
They were wizardry.
Magic to express the happiness all others felt on this night.
This was a day of celebration for every one else.
A day to be glad and happy.
For her it was the one day that hurt more than most.
She took out one small candle and lit it in silence. Her face grimmer than it ever was.
Her candle was plain, she did not celebrate. She mourned.
It was the day they stopped looking for him, when they closed the book. When the war was officially over.
////flashbacks ////The Hag's Head, Early July –roughly one year after graduation
In the background a fire crackled and there was a general cheer to the place. Here and there, there were people sitting drinking butterbeer and pumpkin juice. And in that general cheer there was a fear. The sort of fear that belonged no more. Though they were yet to know. Only a few did.
She sat at the table, hands cupped together tightly, waiting sorrowfully for the girl. She called her a girl still despite the fact she had long since grown up into a woman, whom she herself had hoped to work with, no longer a student but perhaps a teacher one day.
Maybe, but the chances were slim. This changed everything, she knew. None of them would be the same again. This was worse than any of the times before. There was no mistake.
A young woman approached the table, with long brown hair tied rather haphazardly into a thick plait. She wore plain yet elegant robes; there was not a sign on her that spoke of what she was. She looked so normal. Unfitting of her fate, the news she would receive.
When she reached the table she put out her right hand, as did the occupant and they both shook hands in a friendly way.
The old teacher smiled primly at her, realizing as she looked upon her that her words would change that young woman beyond anything she'd ever imagined. Her heart stuttered briefly at the thought. Knowing it was for the best that she be the one to tell her.
However she couldn't do it. Not right away. Hermione smiled prettily at her and her insides sunk once more at the news she had.
"So nice to see you again miss granger."
She beamed back at her
"Its good to see you too professor McGonagoll. However, I was wondering why exactly you called me here."
"Please call me Minerva, its only fitting since we may well be working together soon. And yes. A good question."
Which the witch proceeded not to answer.
"I'd like to congratulate you on the publication of your book. Fascinating. I always knew you'd end up writing something, you certainly read enough textbooks to write one."
Hermione blushed from across the table. Looking forever thrilled at the fact her old teacher was openly praising her new work.
"Thank you. Well, I always thought that the wizarding world badly needed a clearer insight into the muggle world. It's so misunderstood and frankly it's quite important that they know. What if they got stuck in it, they'd not know the difference between a telephone and a shaver. Muggle studies is such an ignored area of study."
Minerva McGonagill smiled slightly at the words, such little comfort as they were to her. All the happiness in Hermione present was hanging by a thread, dependant n the rather harsh words she would have to recite to her. The words that would cut through the thin thread like a razor, letting her whole world drop into the unknown. Into a sea of despair.
"It was a very brave decision to publish that book. In the times we are in."
For once she made no mention of Voldemort. Only she knew the truth so far, but he wasn't really relevant now.
"Well I figured that the world needed it, and I don't want to deprive people of something necessary even if a few do go around trying to…spoil it for all the rest. Who ever they may be."
How would she take it? Hermione was strong. But no one could come out of it unaffected. Whatever, whoever. No one could be anything other than miserable at the news. And she would find out sooner or later. Better at least not to be later. Not to come from some insolent thug in the street, who didn't know the meaning of the name or of the sacrifice. Of the pain they'd inflict.
She testily opened the topic, a little of topic for the real idea.
"Have you heard from Harry lately?"
Hermione smile faded not so gradually. Eyes misted over to cold. And her voice replied evenly
"A week or two ago. He was talking about me being one of Elianne's godmothers. And I don't think I can persuade him otherwise"
She seemed to lighten up at the mention of Elianne. At least that was something.
"I'm sure you'd take on that responsibility very well and I'm sorry to have to inform you of something else, that is quite close to what we speak of"
And Hermione had sat there.
"As you know Harry and family went into hiding like they had planned, about a week ago. But Voldemort somehow found them and…."
Hearing the words.
"We think someone betrayed them. Ron Weasley was their secret keeper. He was the ONLY one who knew where they were. No one wants to believe it. The ministry are questioning him. They're suggesting it was some kind of mind control. But he point blank denies it. Only one person truly believes he had nothing to do with it. Of course Ron has his own ideas about what happened. Though they think he's trying to shift the blame of himself. No one knows really what happened, it could have been anything really…."
Not saying anything.
"The whole area they were in is completely destroyed. Both of them are dead. There is no more Voldemort. And sadly, there is no more of Harry potter either. Nor his wife. Only Elianne is left…"
Nodding in the appropriate places
"And as your responsibility as laid out in Harry's will, you are the only person left to look after her. Her other godparents are both in either way indisposed or incapable of taking her in. that leaves you as the sole choice and therefore legal in the muggle sense guardian of Miss Elianne Jane Potter…..."
She'd apparated out of there as soon as she could. Wanting to hear no more of the saddened voice that had told her of her deepest nightmares come true.
The war was over.
The threat was gone.
It should have been happy.
But it wasn't
Her whole world was upside down, twisted round like a Yolo's tongue-buster lolly. At every corner there was another crack, another turn until you lost yourself in it. Unsure where to go, what to do. Stuck absolutely where you were. And that place wasn't nice.
The place this time was living hell.
Her friends were gone. Her best friend in the world dead, her other best friend either responsible or framed for the predicament of the first.
She hadn't said anything in the pub. But now she was alone. Completely alone. Like she would be from now on.
Because they hadn't had that happy ending.
Hadn't got the choice of growing up together, of having lives and loves and fun times together.
Hadn't even had the choice to grow up and apart from each other.
Just gone.
Gone forever.
With just enough left to remind her of him.
/////end flashback//////////
That was how it had been. Nights of crying. She almost had forgotten to meet with McGonagoll the following week to collect Elianne and make it formal.
That's what had been the reminder. Elianne was that piece of the Potters that lived on to remind her and in that time of misery she had been that remind of the world, of life, of why she must go on. Why she couldn't collapse into her own torn up dreamland.
And it had all changed her life.
She had a responsibility far too young. She'd not planned on having children herself for years, she was going to become the charms assistant at Hogwarts, a new position allowing her to carry on from Flitwick when he retired in a year or two's time from then.
But she had not carried on to do that. Elianne had become more important.
Instead of being an eminent professor, she became a small time journalist and column writer for many wizarding and muggle newspapers and magazines. With that and the book she had published previously that had been just enough to keep them in good stead.
Her life could have been very different had Harry Potter been the man who lived again.
She wouldn't be here alone once again as Elianne was away at Hogwarts.
She wouldn't be standing there lighting a candle to the day they gave up on it all and accepted that it had happened. She wouldn't be here crying another time
Wishing futilely that things were different, that they could be.
Wouldn't be clinging onto forgotten hope. To forgotten feelings.
She stared at the candle.
Thinking perhaps this was what kept him alive every year.
Was why she never forgot his presence, why she never stopped thinking of him.
Why she tortured herself with that hope.
The candle almost became him.
She stared at it hard.
For a long time all she saw was a small white candle sitting on the window ledge.
One candle, simply a candle.
She finally leaned over and blew it out sharply
No.
He was dead
--------
Her life changed
By one moment so vain
Cries in the night
Sleep brings none
And days linger on
With that same pain
Carrying on and on
And on
The reminder tight against her
Her soul ripped by what she loved
Every time she would think of
Thoughts of hurt, in among
What could have been
The sweet victory
Never seen
How it should have gone
The dream left torn, in shreds
No reason to try to
Life gone
On
Love
Something sung
But only in the wet, slick face
Hiding the way
Things went
Hiding
That message
Never sent
---------