My name is Hermione Granger.
And I was locked in battle with none other than Lord Voldemort.
The sight of him made me tremble but I did my best to hold my wand steady. Harry was in obvious pain. I couldn't imagine the agony he was feeling in his scar, being as close to Voldemort as he was.
I had to help him fight.
Once Tobias had flown away, Voldemort had retrieved his wand. He and Harry were dueling, with me throwing in the occasional jinx. They both moved constantly so it was hard to pick a target.
Then Voldemort said two words that made me scream.
"Avada Kedavra!"
Harry, also very aware of this, shouted hysterically, "Expelliarmus!"
The green smoke and scarlet jet of light collided in midair, causing gold sparks to fly everywhere. I threw up my hands to protect my face. When I looked again, a single thread of golden light connected both Voldemort and Harry's wands.
I gasped with awe, eyes becoming as round as galleons. The thread looked unbelievingly delicate but held firm with unwavering strength. Phoenix song trilled and echoed throughout the Yeerk Pool, momentarily slowing the battle below. The beautiful, unearthly song made my heart swell.
I felt the air around me compress and contract. With a sound like a sonic boom, the thread exploded into an intricate doming web. I was thrown from my feet and tossed like a rag doll across the room. I slammed into the wall and slid down it, temporarily stunned.
I squinted and looked up when I came to myself. Everything inside the web dome of light was slightly hazy. However, I could make out most things, like the fact that Harry looked heartened and was concentrating and that Voldemort looked—scared?
Beads of light had formed on the thread. They were inching down the thread toward Voldemort's wand. Every centimeter that disappeared between them and the wand somehow made Voldemort's fear increase.
I was dimly aware that Harry was muttering something under his breath. I knew this only because I could see his lips moving; I could hear nothing inside the dome.
Then, the beads of light connected with Voldemort's wand.
Screams split the air like knives. I had to clap my hands to my ears. My knees buckled and collapsed. I screwed my eyes shut and didn't look up until they had stopped.
And my heart skipped a beat.
There were ghosts inside the dome!
I'm afraid I can't explain what happened next. Harry is going to have to do that…
~*~
My name is Harry Potter.
And I was very aware of what was going to happen after the golden beads had touched Voldemort's wand. I was both terrified and joyful, which horrified me even more. How could I be glad of what was going to happen next?
I watched the spells Voldemort had just preformed come flying out his wand. The one that he favored in particular was Crucious Curse. That and the Death Spell.
I watched the phantom hand that flew out of the tip of the wand and disappeared. More screams, and then out of the wand came the boy I now saw every night in my nightmares. Cedric Diggory stood and beamed at me. "Thanks, Harry, for bringing my body back. You can do this, Harry. I know you can."
Tears sprang to my eyes. Embarrassed, I fiercely wiped them away. I had to concentrate.
The old muggle Frank Bryce was next. He smiled encouragingly at me. "So it's you again, eh? You get him, boy. He deserves all the pain he gets."
Then came Bertha Jorkins. "Concentrate, Harry, that's the key. You've done this before. You can do it again!"
I knew who was coming next. My heart jumped into my throat. My nose was running and tears flowed down my cheeks, but I didn't try to wipe them away. I watched as the person fell out of the wand and stood upright. She was in both my dreams and nightmares. Her dying pleads filled my head when Dementors came near. Her love had left a mark on me, so deep that it had stopped Voldemort from killing me.
Lily Potter smiled at me, ghost tears in her own eyes. "Hello, darling. I had hoped that it wouldn't come to this again. You don't deserve anything like this in your life. You're only fifteen. And you look just like your father. But you have my eyes. I had always hoped when I was alive that you'd grow up into a fine young man, and you have. Oh, you have. I will be able to rest in peace when you have conquered Voldemort because you are everything I had hoped you to be."
While Lily—my mother—had been talking, James—my father—had come to stand beside her. He squeezed her shoulder with his transparent hand. As I looked at him, I could tell that I did look like him. The only differences, perhaps, were our eyes, our heights, our noses, and my scar. His eyes were hazel, as I could tell from pictures of him. He was taller than me. He had a longer nose and no scar. In every other way, though, I was just like him.
"Hey, Dad," I whispered.
"Hello, son," James Potter said. "You need to get away from here and find help. Then you can return to your duel. You are not old enough to beat him by yourself yet. Now, the others and I will give you time to run. God help you, Harry, my son."
I nodded. The ghosts encircled Voldemort. When they had done this, my dad shouted, "Now!"
With an almighty wrench, I managed to jerk my wand upward. The phoenix song died instantly. I fell to the ground and saw Hermione huddled by the wall, watching with wide eyes. I ran to her, dragged her to her feet, and ran.
~*~
My name is Hermione Granger.
There was a gray void at the corners of my eyes. It was slowly spreading and taking over my vision.
Harry was pulling me by the arm. I didn't know how his mind could function so clearly after what had happened. I had seen his parents' ghosts up there talking to him! It had traumatized me, so how had it affected him?
He dragged me into the chaos. The gray had turned to black. It wrapped itself around my brain and all conscious thoughts stopped.
By the time I had come to again, I was lying in a secluded corner and Harry was crouched over me, slapping my face. One arm was wrapped uncomfortably around my shoulders. I gasped and uttered a tiny shriek. He stopped.
"Hermione!" Harry cried, relieved.
"Horrible…" I said, tears prickling in my eyes to my great embarrassment.
"I know," he said.
"I don't ever want it to happen again."
He held me with arms now, but I was too weak to protest. "Me too," he whispered into my ear, his lips tickling my ear.
I looked into his eyes. "You never told me what happened to Ron. Can you tell me now?" I asked, weakly struggling to sit up.
He helped me and bowed his head. "He resisted his Yeerk and took control of his body when his Yeerk was dragging me down to the Yeerk Pool. We were on those stairs" —he pointed to a tall staircase that had no railing— "on the platform. He fell off backwards. I heard him hit the ground. He's—he's—"
He couldn't say it, but I understood.
"No," I whispered, tears trickling down my face.
Harry looked away. "I wish. At least—at least he's free now."
I nodded, tears flowing silently down my cheeks. "Yeah."
"Give me liberty or give me death," he whispered, his own eyes spilling over.
For a few minutes, we both sat in silence and sobbed quietly to ourselves. I could tell by the look on his face that this was the first chance he had gotten to grieve his best friend's death. He held my hand in his. I squeezed it gently. He had lost so much…
We were unaware of the battle that was going on around us. For a moment, it had all stopped and we were two people mourning the death of a loved one.
"Harry," I said, "what I was trying to say in the common room… what I was trying to say was—"
Harry held my eyes. "Yes?"
"I wanted to tell you—"
A voice drifted over to me and made me break off. "How very touching."
That voice—it was so familiar—but it couldn't be!
I looked over and gasped. Ron! Ron, our best friend! I jumped to my feet with a strangled cry of joy. It was as if he were back from the dead! Harry was on his feet too. I went to run forward and hug my red-haired friend but Harry caught my shoulder and held me back.
I stared at him. He was sitting in some sort of device that looked almost like a wheelchair but had no wheels and floated of its own accord. I could tell that this was no magic.
It was technology.
"But—but—" I stammered, "Muggle technology doesn't work at Hogwarts!"
Ron chuckled, a low and evil sound that didn't suit him. "Yes, Hermione, the smart one. The know-it-all. I told Visser Three that we should have infested you. You would have been very useful. Alas, no one listened to me."
He moved forward. I watched him draw an odd-looking metallic object from the wheel-less wheelchair. A glance of it told me that it was a weapon, probably a gun. Harry became rigid.
"How?" I whispered.
"What? That I'm alive? That the technology works? Well, I'm alive because of technology. Unfortunately, I'm paralyzed from the waist down. The technology… well, that works because Voldemort took off the spell preventing technology down here. It was at its weakest here and he was able to remove it quite easily."
He turned to Harry and pressed a button on the gun that made it hum. "I'm sorry, Harry, but I have to kill you now." He started to press the trigger but then Harry interrupted with, "Why? Why kill me? Aren't I valuable to the Yeerks? Doesn't Voldemort want to kill me?"
Ron sighed and drummed his fingers against his floating wheelchair. "It is true that you're valuable to the Yeerk. And, yes, Voldemort does want to kill you. But that's too bad for him, because I want to kill you too. I, Istrum 542, need to kill you. You're the reason this body is paralyzed. Visser Three has told me that I am to be staying with this body for the rest of my Yeerk life. It is your fault I am stuck in this pathetic boy. You are the reason he caused us to fall off backward from the stairs. It's time for revenge, Harry. Goodbye."
Ron—or rather, Istrum—took aim at Harry's head. He jerked violently and I thought with relief, "Ron! The real Ron!" but it was too late. Istrum had pulled the trigger. The laser bullet shot out of the gun too fast for either Harry or I to react. Because of Ron's jerk it went off course but still struck its target. It went clean through Harry's abdomen.
I screamed. For a moment, I could see straight through Harry's stomach and at the wall. Then the blood began to flow. His eyes bulged and he coughed up blood. He clapped his hands to the plate-sized hole and slid, twitching, down the wall.
Istrum cursed and banged the gun. "Why didn't work right? It was supposed to blow all his molecules apart and it just made a big mess by making a hole through him stomach! Ahhh, well, he'll die anyway."
Sobbing, I ran to my fallen friend. He smiled tightly up at me. "Give me liberty…" he panted with effort, "Or give me death."
I was vaguely aware of Istrum shrieking and being thrown from his floating wheelchair. I heard his skull crack against the pavement but I didn't move.
"Harry, Harry, don't die," I whispered, holding his head.
"I can't do anything about it, Hermione. Neither of us knows healing magic. I don't have a potion and neither do you. I'll—I'll say hi to my parents for you."
My tears spilled onto his face and mingled with his. "Don't talk like that," I said hoarsely, "You're going to make it."
"I know reality far too well to deny it. This is fatal." Harry replied. He looked up at me and stroked my cheek with a feeble and bloody hand. "When Dumbledore is free, tell him I'm sorry. Tell Sirius that—that I loved him like I would have my dad. He was my father. Tell the Weasleys thanks for everything they've ever done for me. And—and you, Hermione…"
"Yes?" I whispered.
"Hermione…" he croaked. His head tipped back and his eyes closed. His lips parted. I frantically felt for a pulse.
There wasn't one.
"Harry," I said, stroking his face. Tears blurred my vision. I knew he couldn't hear me, but I told him what I'd meant to tell him for a long time. "I love you, Harry. I've loved you ever since you saved me from that troll in first year. At first it had just been a crush, but then after everything that happened to us… it made me love you. I've always been too afraid to tell you. I wish I could have told you, Harry. I'll say it again. I love you, and I always have. I love you."
I leaned over him and took his lifeless face in my hands. I kissed his cold, bloody lips. He didn't move. I could feel his blood on my lips, like some grotesque lipstick. It was also on my tongue, salty and coppery tasting. I wanted him to tell me that he loved me too, that he always had, that he'd just been too afraid that I wouldn't feel the same.
But I would never hear those words. He was dead. I was loving someone who couldn't love me back.
I tilted my head back and howled my misery to the ceiling. Harry was dead, and with him my love.
I will never be able to love again.
A/N (September 2nd): Wow! Two chapters in one day! Now, I know that if you were expecting something it wasn't this. Please don't be discouraged and stop reading the story. There is more, a lot more actually. Besides, something could happen…
::coughs:: About the Harry/Hermione romance, I have been writing this before book 5. (Not that there was any Hermione romance action, but hey!)
Anyway, why did I change my penname? Because Sirius is awesome! Also, I've recently gained the nickname "Padfoot" and decided that the change would be fitting.
Stick around for "Chapter 30: Life if Harsh (Rachel)"! All will be revealed in the end (no, this is not the end)!
A/N (September 4th): Yes, I did change the chapter title. This one seems… more fitting.