THE LEAVING STORY
Disclaimer- Chapter title is taken from another AFI song obviously titled "The Great Disappointment."
~*~*~
The Great Disappointment-
I look at you, sitting here in our shared cell. You are angry at many things. You are angry at Voldemort for failing before Light could be understood. You are angry at Dumbledore for all the lies.
Perhaps worst of all, you are angry at me. Although you will never tell me this, I can see it. You are angry at me for what you know I am about to say. I wish I didn't have to do it, for your sake, and that will only make you hate me more.
"I'm sorry." There, I said it. You don't look at me, knowing that it is the best way to hurt me. There, I am hurt. What more do you want? I cannot change what has happened, only resign silently to our doom.
"You have nothing to be sorry for," you lie.
"Yes I do. Don't lie," I say. You should be mad at me for offering you hope when you were completing your protective walls. It has been four years since I started disassembling your citadel. I regret ever having started. It only hurt you more in the end.
Four long years have passed and we will finally be granted our rest, but not in the way we want it. We had dreams of a peaceful world, where it would be harder to find the gray than the white. We had dreams of a world where everyone understood what we know. That cannot be now.
Instead, we were given a false trial that sentenced us to death. At least the Dark Lord's demise led to the extinction of the dementors, sparing us from their kiss.
I am about to go to you, to hold you the way you always did for me when the cell door opens.
It is the Minister, or more accurately, Harry Potter. He has come to see me.
"Hermione," he says. You stay where you are, although I rise and go to Harry.
I stand in front of him, and watch the little shreds of goodness in the back of his eyes tear themselves to pieces.
"Oh, Harry," I say, cupping his face in my hands. He pulls away, as I knew he would.
"I told you that you could be freed. I told you to simply tell the truth, that Snape forced you into this, Hermione. Why didn't you listen to me? I had no choice but to convict you," he says. You look up finally, from the ground, at me instead of him. Both of us know this is my only chance to live. Both of us know I will choose death.
"Harry," I say, touching his nose lightly. "Harry, I couldn't lie, just like you can't believe that this is what I'd choose."
He scowls at me.
"What happened, Hermione? What happened to the brave little know-it all that I knew?" he asks me.
I look down, prepared to tell him I am still here. You have other plans.
"She died! She died the day YOU chose to leave her in the clutches of evil! She died the day you decided she was something you could sacrifice! And what's worse! She's better for it. She's better off NOT being friends with you! She's better off the way she is!" you yell at him. I have seen you this angry before, and am not startled. Harry is. He glares at you, glares at me, and walks out the door with his head held high.
I look at you. You are steaming.
"Thank-you," I say to you.
"You have nothing to be thankful for."
I don't respond, knowing I don't have to. You sit back down, and I sit next to you. We fall asleep like that, with me whispering soft words in your ears.
Very early, on the very next morning, I find myself standing in front of what once would have been Hagrid's Hut at Hogwarts. His hut is not there. It has been replaced by a platform of sorts. It reminds me of the stage Lockhart set up with you during our second year to teach dueling. I share the comparison with you, and you smile at the memory.
I wish you had smiled more often before now, when our hours on Earth are slowly dwindling to nothingness.
I look through the strands of hair that have blown across my face towards what once was Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It is changed now, in ways unimaginable.
The bricks have crumbled in parts, and the flags that once shone brightly have faded and torn. When I lean back a bit I can actually see into the Great Hall through a window that has been enlarged by the failing of the decrepit bricks near it.
The whole area reeks of death. I can feel it.
You shiver slightly next to me. I move closer to you, almost involuntarily. I notice your gaze is firmly fixed upon Hogwarts' bent gates. Harry Potter is leading a procession of black garbed figures. They are his army, or rather the current students of Harry Potter's school of Training New In Betweens.
Harry doesn't call it that, but you did. I remember the day you said that name. It was one of the times when we could still laugh at things, enjoy good irony.
Harry and his procession have reached us.
"You will all cast the Killing Curse in turn on one of the prisoners. They are all criminals, having committed many things from murder to treason." Harry looked at us when he said treason. Both of us noticed.
You look at me. We feel alone on our podium of criminals. Standing next to me is a rapist, next to you is a thief.
Something in your eyes is asking me for forgiveness of things I can not understand.
"I'm sorry I ever asked you to stay. God only knows why you listened, but I'm sorry all the same," you say. The people around us stare. Somewhere, near the beginning of the line of criminals, there is a flash of green light and a small thud. I missed the casting of the Killing Curse.
The sun is just breaking through the dull gray of the grounds.
There is another flash of light, but this time I am deaf to the thud of a dead body as well as the voice of the caster.
I make my decision then and there. I do not pretend to know anything about the life that lies beyond, or even pretend to be sure such a life exists.
'Green light means go', I think, laughing at my forever muggle like mind.
"Remember the day you rescued me?" You nod. "I remember hearing you talk about the promises you've kept. I made one, to never leave your side, and obey you solely." You frown. "I didn't tell you, 'till now, and I just needed to before we were gone..."
You look at me, eyes unreadable even to me. The sun has risen behind us, reflecting off broken windows of Hogwarts.
There is a flash of green light directly next to you.
"I'm sorry I never managed to ask you to do anything worth while. Maybe I just couldn't put something so dear to me in the face of danger," you say. I close my eyes. I feel your fingers ever so close to my ear, just grazing my hair.
There is a flash of green light and your fingers fall limp before touching me.
I turn to face my killer. You are gone, and I will be in a matter of moments. Somewhere, in between my fears of the unknown and relief of my responsibilities dispersing, I find Harry's method of training young children in the Killing Curse barbaric.
"Wait," Harry says. The young boy who was preparing to kill me stopps mid-spell.
"I'll get this one."
I turn to Harry and smile. I am actually rather thankful he personally decided to kill me. No one, save maybe you, could appreciate the drama of it all.
As he raises his wand, I mutely allow all feeling out of me, concentrating on the feel of brisk wind hitting my face. This isn't the worse way to die, most certainly not.
~*~*~
Author's Note- Well, that's that. Reviewers, there is no possible way I could express my gratitude to you.
Love, (And I do mean it,) A.H.
Disclaimer- Chapter title is taken from another AFI song obviously titled "The Great Disappointment."
~*~*~
The Great Disappointment-
I look at you, sitting here in our shared cell. You are angry at many things. You are angry at Voldemort for failing before Light could be understood. You are angry at Dumbledore for all the lies.
Perhaps worst of all, you are angry at me. Although you will never tell me this, I can see it. You are angry at me for what you know I am about to say. I wish I didn't have to do it, for your sake, and that will only make you hate me more.
"I'm sorry." There, I said it. You don't look at me, knowing that it is the best way to hurt me. There, I am hurt. What more do you want? I cannot change what has happened, only resign silently to our doom.
"You have nothing to be sorry for," you lie.
"Yes I do. Don't lie," I say. You should be mad at me for offering you hope when you were completing your protective walls. It has been four years since I started disassembling your citadel. I regret ever having started. It only hurt you more in the end.
Four long years have passed and we will finally be granted our rest, but not in the way we want it. We had dreams of a peaceful world, where it would be harder to find the gray than the white. We had dreams of a world where everyone understood what we know. That cannot be now.
Instead, we were given a false trial that sentenced us to death. At least the Dark Lord's demise led to the extinction of the dementors, sparing us from their kiss.
I am about to go to you, to hold you the way you always did for me when the cell door opens.
It is the Minister, or more accurately, Harry Potter. He has come to see me.
"Hermione," he says. You stay where you are, although I rise and go to Harry.
I stand in front of him, and watch the little shreds of goodness in the back of his eyes tear themselves to pieces.
"Oh, Harry," I say, cupping his face in my hands. He pulls away, as I knew he would.
"I told you that you could be freed. I told you to simply tell the truth, that Snape forced you into this, Hermione. Why didn't you listen to me? I had no choice but to convict you," he says. You look up finally, from the ground, at me instead of him. Both of us know this is my only chance to live. Both of us know I will choose death.
"Harry," I say, touching his nose lightly. "Harry, I couldn't lie, just like you can't believe that this is what I'd choose."
He scowls at me.
"What happened, Hermione? What happened to the brave little know-it all that I knew?" he asks me.
I look down, prepared to tell him I am still here. You have other plans.
"She died! She died the day YOU chose to leave her in the clutches of evil! She died the day you decided she was something you could sacrifice! And what's worse! She's better for it. She's better off NOT being friends with you! She's better off the way she is!" you yell at him. I have seen you this angry before, and am not startled. Harry is. He glares at you, glares at me, and walks out the door with his head held high.
I look at you. You are steaming.
"Thank-you," I say to you.
"You have nothing to be thankful for."
I don't respond, knowing I don't have to. You sit back down, and I sit next to you. We fall asleep like that, with me whispering soft words in your ears.
Very early, on the very next morning, I find myself standing in front of what once would have been Hagrid's Hut at Hogwarts. His hut is not there. It has been replaced by a platform of sorts. It reminds me of the stage Lockhart set up with you during our second year to teach dueling. I share the comparison with you, and you smile at the memory.
I wish you had smiled more often before now, when our hours on Earth are slowly dwindling to nothingness.
I look through the strands of hair that have blown across my face towards what once was Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It is changed now, in ways unimaginable.
The bricks have crumbled in parts, and the flags that once shone brightly have faded and torn. When I lean back a bit I can actually see into the Great Hall through a window that has been enlarged by the failing of the decrepit bricks near it.
The whole area reeks of death. I can feel it.
You shiver slightly next to me. I move closer to you, almost involuntarily. I notice your gaze is firmly fixed upon Hogwarts' bent gates. Harry Potter is leading a procession of black garbed figures. They are his army, or rather the current students of Harry Potter's school of Training New In Betweens.
Harry doesn't call it that, but you did. I remember the day you said that name. It was one of the times when we could still laugh at things, enjoy good irony.
Harry and his procession have reached us.
"You will all cast the Killing Curse in turn on one of the prisoners. They are all criminals, having committed many things from murder to treason." Harry looked at us when he said treason. Both of us noticed.
You look at me. We feel alone on our podium of criminals. Standing next to me is a rapist, next to you is a thief.
Something in your eyes is asking me for forgiveness of things I can not understand.
"I'm sorry I ever asked you to stay. God only knows why you listened, but I'm sorry all the same," you say. The people around us stare. Somewhere, near the beginning of the line of criminals, there is a flash of green light and a small thud. I missed the casting of the Killing Curse.
The sun is just breaking through the dull gray of the grounds.
There is another flash of light, but this time I am deaf to the thud of a dead body as well as the voice of the caster.
I make my decision then and there. I do not pretend to know anything about the life that lies beyond, or even pretend to be sure such a life exists.
'Green light means go', I think, laughing at my forever muggle like mind.
"Remember the day you rescued me?" You nod. "I remember hearing you talk about the promises you've kept. I made one, to never leave your side, and obey you solely." You frown. "I didn't tell you, 'till now, and I just needed to before we were gone..."
You look at me, eyes unreadable even to me. The sun has risen behind us, reflecting off broken windows of Hogwarts.
There is a flash of green light directly next to you.
"I'm sorry I never managed to ask you to do anything worth while. Maybe I just couldn't put something so dear to me in the face of danger," you say. I close my eyes. I feel your fingers ever so close to my ear, just grazing my hair.
There is a flash of green light and your fingers fall limp before touching me.
I turn to face my killer. You are gone, and I will be in a matter of moments. Somewhere, in between my fears of the unknown and relief of my responsibilities dispersing, I find Harry's method of training young children in the Killing Curse barbaric.
"Wait," Harry says. The young boy who was preparing to kill me stopps mid-spell.
"I'll get this one."
I turn to Harry and smile. I am actually rather thankful he personally decided to kill me. No one, save maybe you, could appreciate the drama of it all.
As he raises his wand, I mutely allow all feeling out of me, concentrating on the feel of brisk wind hitting my face. This isn't the worse way to die, most certainly not.
~*~*~
Author's Note- Well, that's that. Reviewers, there is no possible way I could express my gratitude to you.
Love, (And I do mean it,) A.H.