Author's Note: I am sincerely sorry for this chapter, and it will probably make you hate me. I don't like it that much myself. I think the writing's not as good as it could be. Sorry.
"It will happen the day after we graduate."
Yes, Hermione had said those words. The day after graduation should have been the best day of her life. She should have carefully remembered each detail of the day, preserved it in her mind for years to come.
Instead she remembered a day a week before graduation. She didn't even try to remember it, it wouldn't let her forget. She remembered waking up that morning from warm dreams of Ron. She remembered Professor McConigall entering the common room and looking at all the people gathered there, and saying, "It is time." She remembered watching the younger children and the few Muggles there being evacuated to the inner depths of the castle, and the rest of them marching away behind McConigall. Soon they were standing in a courtyard, ranged about the door into the entrance hall.
They stood there, all of the seventh year students and the Weasleys and many other witches and wizards, knowing that there was about to be a battle on the school grounds. None of the teachers were there, of course. They were in the Great Hall, with Harry, just beginning to preform the spell. It was a very ancient, very powerful spell, prepared by Dumbledore before he died. That spell would kill Voldemort, provided that they kept him and his followers away from the Great Hall for long enough.
Ron's hand reached out and grasped her own, strong and reassuring, but only for a moment before letting go. She turned and kissed him, even as she saw the wall being blasted away in flash of green fire.
Hermione stood.
They rushed forward, a dark mass of Death Eaters in fluttering black robes. Among them Hermione saw many that had been her classmates a few months before. Oh well, they were the enemy now. She felt the crowd around her beginning to move. She charged with them, icily determined, and began to lay about with stunning spells. She saw one robed figure fall beneath a beam of red light from her wand, and he was promptly trampled by his own comrades.
There was a tremendous crashing noise, and two black-haired girls flew high into the air and landed in front of Hermione with a spray of stone chips. Pavarti and Padma Patil lay in a twisted heap on the stone, blood seeping down their painfully pretty faces. At least the sisters could die together, she thought.
"Crucio!" Hermione didn't see who had cursed her before she collapsed, her legs buckling beneath the pure pain. There was fire in her blood, she knew it, she could feel it. Every part of her was filled with indescribably pain. It twisted her, made her limbs flail in a pathetic attempt to drive away the flaming agony. Then, suddenly, it stopped.
She pulled herself up from the ground, the pain of the curse still echoing in every part of her. Looking around, she saw the witch who had felled her attacker. It was Ginny. Ginny wasn't supposed to be there. She should be hiding with the other sixth years.
The red-headed girl was not looking at Hermione, however. She was staring at a spot beside the other witch's head with wide, horrified eyes, and screaming, "Ron! Look out behind..." But her voice trailed into silence.
Hermione turned. Ron was falling. His face was terribly pale, his hair streaming, his eyes... his eyes were empty. And Hermione saw her love's flaming head hitting the stones.
For a moment her thoughts were frozen, and time seemed to stand still and she stared at his body. Time began to move again, slowly, as she looked up and saw Draco Malfoy, his wand dropping to his side and a wild expression on his face, very different from his usual smugness.
There was a hole opening inside her, she could feel it at the base of her soul, a great black hole that was reaching out to pull her in. Hermione lifted her own wand and shouted, "Avada Kedavra!"
She killed Draco Malfoy.
Hermione stood, her breath quick and loud. Her white fingers were clasped around her wand, still outstretched before her. Suddenly, there was a shriek that rose above the screams and explosions thundering all around. Pansy was on her in a whirl of flying fists and blonde hair. Within her screams Hermione could make out a gasping, sobbing "Murderer!"
She dropped her own wand, and turned on Pansy. Hermione was not shrieking, but her breath was growing louder. Long and rasping, it tore at her throat. As she clawed at the other girl, the hole inside her grew, and darkened. It sucked at her, pulled at her. She knew that if she stopped flailing at Pansy for even a moment it would draw her into oblivion.
The two grieving girls battled their way across the courtyard. They crossed over the bodies of the fallen and past the tortured forms of the living. As they neared a wall a curse went flying over their heads, hitting the stone and opening a huge, jagged hole. The assailants fought through it, even as falling stones opened a cut over Pansy's eye and hit Hermione's shoulder with a painful thud. They tripped on the debris and went rolling together over the floor of the Great Hall. Pansy's fingernails raked the other girl's cheek, leaving four long red gashes. Hermione's hands found themselves around Pansy's neck, trying with all their strength to strangle her.
In the corner of her eye she could see all of the professors sitting in a ring, with Harry in the center. There was a light about them, a blazing, red-gold light that throbbed hypnotically. Against it the teachers' forms cast long black shadows on the wall of the Great Hall. Would there spell be successful? Would Voldemort be defeated?
No, Hermione couldn't think of those things. If she let herself think the hole would get her. She had to focus on the fight or be sucked in.
But then something happened that startled even the two grieving, animal-like girls out of their grappling. In the corner, the red-gold light had exploded into a pillar of blinding white lightning. It shot upwards in a bright, hot fury. Along with it was a sound. Hermione recognized Harry's screaming, loud and seemingly unending. There was also an unearthly shriek so high that it pierced the ears. But also, and most horribly of all, there was a hissing. It echoed throughout the Great Hall and the courtyard and the world beyond. It filled the ears and penetrated down to the deepest depths of the mind.
Hermione rolled away from Pansy, lay on her back, and froze.
The sky was falling.
Later, Hermione was told that the very strength of the spell that finally killed Voldemort had collapsed the magical supports of the Great Hall's ceiling. The pieces of the roof had kept their ancient enchantment even as they crumbled and fell. It was a sight that stayed in Hermione's mind and soul forever. The broken, jagged pieces of stone had been scattered with dark clouds, but where the sky peered through it was purple with evening, and gleaming with a few faint stars.
It was an odd experience, frightening yet strangely... wondrous, to see the sky raining down on you.
Of all those in the Great Hall, only Pansy and Hermione survived. A few hours later, Hermione was lying beside the other girl in the corridor where the wounded were lain after the infirmary filled. She was still and quiet in her pain, but Pansy, blonde hair matted with blood, was shuddering and moaning. Then she grew still, and her eyes widened. The last word Pansy Parkinson said before leaving the mortal world, was "Draco."
Hermione reached up to touch her cheek. Though the four long marks there were not visible, she could feel them very faintly beneath her fingertips.
Funny how dry the cheek was. She never cried when she thought about that last battle, and all the losses it brought. No tears ran during the battle either. She cried when Ron told her that he loved her, and later when he proposed, and again when Dumbledore died, and again when she remembered all those things. She certainly wasn't the type that eternally held in her weeping... and yet the most horrible night in her life left her cheeks and eyes painfully dry.
"Professor!"
Hermione turned to see an out of breath student at the door, a young boy with a round, moon-shaped face.
"Yes, Longbottom?"
"Someone just flew into the entrance hall and collapsed! Professor Weasley wanted me to get you."
Hermione nodded and put away the essays.
"He's in the hospital wing now."
In the hospital wing she found a red haired woman standing by a bed, the curtains pulled closed so that Hermione could not see the occupant.
Remus didn't seem to be in the room. Odd.
"Where's the Headmaster?"
"I wanted you to see our visitor before the rest of the faculty," replied Ginny.
Hermione looked at her colleague. "Why?"
"He's... an old friend of your's, Hermione." Ginny turned, the hair that reminded so Hermione eternally of Ron catching the light, and pulled back the curtain.
Viktor Krum was lying on the hospital bed.
"It will happen the day after we graduate."
Yes, Hermione had said those words. The day after graduation should have been the best day of her life. She should have carefully remembered each detail of the day, preserved it in her mind for years to come.
Instead she remembered a day a week before graduation. She didn't even try to remember it, it wouldn't let her forget. She remembered waking up that morning from warm dreams of Ron. She remembered Professor McConigall entering the common room and looking at all the people gathered there, and saying, "It is time." She remembered watching the younger children and the few Muggles there being evacuated to the inner depths of the castle, and the rest of them marching away behind McConigall. Soon they were standing in a courtyard, ranged about the door into the entrance hall.
They stood there, all of the seventh year students and the Weasleys and many other witches and wizards, knowing that there was about to be a battle on the school grounds. None of the teachers were there, of course. They were in the Great Hall, with Harry, just beginning to preform the spell. It was a very ancient, very powerful spell, prepared by Dumbledore before he died. That spell would kill Voldemort, provided that they kept him and his followers away from the Great Hall for long enough.
Ron's hand reached out and grasped her own, strong and reassuring, but only for a moment before letting go. She turned and kissed him, even as she saw the wall being blasted away in flash of green fire.
Hermione stood.
They rushed forward, a dark mass of Death Eaters in fluttering black robes. Among them Hermione saw many that had been her classmates a few months before. Oh well, they were the enemy now. She felt the crowd around her beginning to move. She charged with them, icily determined, and began to lay about with stunning spells. She saw one robed figure fall beneath a beam of red light from her wand, and he was promptly trampled by his own comrades.
There was a tremendous crashing noise, and two black-haired girls flew high into the air and landed in front of Hermione with a spray of stone chips. Pavarti and Padma Patil lay in a twisted heap on the stone, blood seeping down their painfully pretty faces. At least the sisters could die together, she thought.
"Crucio!" Hermione didn't see who had cursed her before she collapsed, her legs buckling beneath the pure pain. There was fire in her blood, she knew it, she could feel it. Every part of her was filled with indescribably pain. It twisted her, made her limbs flail in a pathetic attempt to drive away the flaming agony. Then, suddenly, it stopped.
She pulled herself up from the ground, the pain of the curse still echoing in every part of her. Looking around, she saw the witch who had felled her attacker. It was Ginny. Ginny wasn't supposed to be there. She should be hiding with the other sixth years.
The red-headed girl was not looking at Hermione, however. She was staring at a spot beside the other witch's head with wide, horrified eyes, and screaming, "Ron! Look out behind..." But her voice trailed into silence.
Hermione turned. Ron was falling. His face was terribly pale, his hair streaming, his eyes... his eyes were empty. And Hermione saw her love's flaming head hitting the stones.
For a moment her thoughts were frozen, and time seemed to stand still and she stared at his body. Time began to move again, slowly, as she looked up and saw Draco Malfoy, his wand dropping to his side and a wild expression on his face, very different from his usual smugness.
There was a hole opening inside her, she could feel it at the base of her soul, a great black hole that was reaching out to pull her in. Hermione lifted her own wand and shouted, "Avada Kedavra!"
She killed Draco Malfoy.
Hermione stood, her breath quick and loud. Her white fingers were clasped around her wand, still outstretched before her. Suddenly, there was a shriek that rose above the screams and explosions thundering all around. Pansy was on her in a whirl of flying fists and blonde hair. Within her screams Hermione could make out a gasping, sobbing "Murderer!"
She dropped her own wand, and turned on Pansy. Hermione was not shrieking, but her breath was growing louder. Long and rasping, it tore at her throat. As she clawed at the other girl, the hole inside her grew, and darkened. It sucked at her, pulled at her. She knew that if she stopped flailing at Pansy for even a moment it would draw her into oblivion.
The two grieving girls battled their way across the courtyard. They crossed over the bodies of the fallen and past the tortured forms of the living. As they neared a wall a curse went flying over their heads, hitting the stone and opening a huge, jagged hole. The assailants fought through it, even as falling stones opened a cut over Pansy's eye and hit Hermione's shoulder with a painful thud. They tripped on the debris and went rolling together over the floor of the Great Hall. Pansy's fingernails raked the other girl's cheek, leaving four long red gashes. Hermione's hands found themselves around Pansy's neck, trying with all their strength to strangle her.
In the corner of her eye she could see all of the professors sitting in a ring, with Harry in the center. There was a light about them, a blazing, red-gold light that throbbed hypnotically. Against it the teachers' forms cast long black shadows on the wall of the Great Hall. Would there spell be successful? Would Voldemort be defeated?
No, Hermione couldn't think of those things. If she let herself think the hole would get her. She had to focus on the fight or be sucked in.
But then something happened that startled even the two grieving, animal-like girls out of their grappling. In the corner, the red-gold light had exploded into a pillar of blinding white lightning. It shot upwards in a bright, hot fury. Along with it was a sound. Hermione recognized Harry's screaming, loud and seemingly unending. There was also an unearthly shriek so high that it pierced the ears. But also, and most horribly of all, there was a hissing. It echoed throughout the Great Hall and the courtyard and the world beyond. It filled the ears and penetrated down to the deepest depths of the mind.
Hermione rolled away from Pansy, lay on her back, and froze.
The sky was falling.
Later, Hermione was told that the very strength of the spell that finally killed Voldemort had collapsed the magical supports of the Great Hall's ceiling. The pieces of the roof had kept their ancient enchantment even as they crumbled and fell. It was a sight that stayed in Hermione's mind and soul forever. The broken, jagged pieces of stone had been scattered with dark clouds, but where the sky peered through it was purple with evening, and gleaming with a few faint stars.
It was an odd experience, frightening yet strangely... wondrous, to see the sky raining down on you.
Of all those in the Great Hall, only Pansy and Hermione survived. A few hours later, Hermione was lying beside the other girl in the corridor where the wounded were lain after the infirmary filled. She was still and quiet in her pain, but Pansy, blonde hair matted with blood, was shuddering and moaning. Then she grew still, and her eyes widened. The last word Pansy Parkinson said before leaving the mortal world, was "Draco."
Hermione reached up to touch her cheek. Though the four long marks there were not visible, she could feel them very faintly beneath her fingertips.
Funny how dry the cheek was. She never cried when she thought about that last battle, and all the losses it brought. No tears ran during the battle either. She cried when Ron told her that he loved her, and later when he proposed, and again when Dumbledore died, and again when she remembered all those things. She certainly wasn't the type that eternally held in her weeping... and yet the most horrible night in her life left her cheeks and eyes painfully dry.
"Professor!"
Hermione turned to see an out of breath student at the door, a young boy with a round, moon-shaped face.
"Yes, Longbottom?"
"Someone just flew into the entrance hall and collapsed! Professor Weasley wanted me to get you."
Hermione nodded and put away the essays.
"He's in the hospital wing now."
In the hospital wing she found a red haired woman standing by a bed, the curtains pulled closed so that Hermione could not see the occupant.
Remus didn't seem to be in the room. Odd.
"Where's the Headmaster?"
"I wanted you to see our visitor before the rest of the faculty," replied Ginny.
Hermione looked at her colleague. "Why?"
"He's... an old friend of your's, Hermione." Ginny turned, the hair that reminded so Hermione eternally of Ron catching the light, and pulled back the curtain.
Viktor Krum was lying on the hospital bed.