The boys walked across the courtyard, unknowing of the ghostly friend they had following them. Groups of people watched them walking by, some smiling slightly as if to say "it will be okay." Draco Malfoy walked up to Ron and Harry with his toadies Crabbe and Goyle. Harry felt his chest tighten and saw Ron's fist clench, ready for some type of rude Muddblood comment. Draco's blond hair hung slightly over his eyes. His head was down as he stopped in front of them.
"Hey Ron, Harry," he said haltingly, seeming to not really know what to say to his main enemies at the school. Crabbe wiped at his chunky face with his sleeve. By doing this Harry looked and realized that the usually rude trio was crying.
"Hey Draco," Harry said softly. Ron looked at him as if to say "Why are you talking to him." Draco looked up from the ground; his blue eyes brimmed with tears.
"I never really hated her you know," he said, looking away as tears flowed more freely. Harry nodded slowly, remembering how many times Draco had almost caused Hermione to cry by calling her a Muddblood or a dirty blooded wizard in Muggle-speak.
"She just annoyed me because of how smart she was. My father wanted me to be as smart as her and I wasn't," Draco said, looking at Harry solemnly. Harry pushed his glasses up, nodding. Draco's father, Lucius, did seem like the type of father to push good grades and be a perfectionist. Draco wasn't a good student but Lucius didn't care. Being less than perfect was not an option in the Malfoy family.
"Try telling her at the funeral," Harry said, shrugging, not really knowing how to reply to his once enemy, now somewhat of a comrade in pain and grief.
Draco nodded slowly, looking back to the ground and walking away with Crabbe and Goyle in silent tow.
Ron looked at Harry in amazement, his eyebrows raised.
"Did that really just happen," he asked as they continued on their way to the Great Hall. "I think so, Ron. Maybe Malfoy isn't as bad as we think he is. Seems like his father is what causes a lot of Draco's meanness," Harry said as they entered the Great Hall foyer along with other groups of kids, all talking softly among themselves.
Ron shrugged, "Maybe." He looked around at all the people, never really realizing how popular Hermione was until now. Many people, teachers included, often came to her for help in things, from life to help with homework. He saw his sister Ginny sitting on a bench alone.
"I'm going to go talk to Ginny. Save me a seat," Ron said, walking over to the bench. Harry went into the Hall. The ceiling, one of Hermione's favorite features of the school, had a sunny sky with doves flying through the air. Garlands of white and pink roses floated along the pillars. The table had been changed to seating for all the students. It was already getting crowded with students from every year and every house. No one was wearing their house colors though. Death had brought them all to the same level.
Harry sat down on a pew seat and watched as teachers walked to the front and sat in the pews closest to the coffin. It was a pearly white with gold trim. Harry could see Hermione's still profile. Her long brown hair lay out around her head like a pillow. Harry watched as Hagrid, the large gamekeeper walked up to the coffin, clutching a small white handkerchief to his burly red nose. Hagrid broke down is loud bellowing sobs. Harry knew that Hagrid had loved Hermione like a daughter. He looked around, wondering what Ron and Ginny were talking about.
Hermione sat next to Ginny Weasley on the bench, listening to the sibling's conversation. Ginny was wearing a short black skirt over black tights with a gray sweater. She was holding Ron's hand as they softly spoke.
"Are you going to be okay," she asked softly, looking at her older brother with concern. She, as well as everyone else, knew how much Ron had loved Hermione. Ron nodded slowly, swallowing hard. Ginny tucked her hair behind her slightly large ears and squeezed Ron's hand.
"It's just weird," he said, staring out the window as snow started to fall. "She knew better. Do you honestly think that the smartest girl in our school would make such a silly mistake? There is just something that is not right here." Hermione nodded from her unseen seat on the other side of Ginny. She wished could communicate to her friends that someone had switched the dragon's blood for the mermaid's blood when she was making her potion. She wished she could tell them who had done it, who had ended her life. She closed her eyes, trying to send a mental message to her friends. Maybe she could connect with someone who truly loved her.
"What is someone killed her," Ron said, looking at Ginny. Her eyes widened in shock.
"Why would someone do that though," she asked, "Everyone liked her."
"I know," he said, "Everyone except Draco. He hated her. He even admitted it to Harry and I not even 10 minutes ago outside. He said that she annoyed him because she was so smart." Anger was entering his voice. Hermione shook her head. It wasn't Draco, she thought. Hermione frowned, remembering her final thoughts as she lay dying in the potions room.
The person smiled down at her menacingly.
"Oh, silly little Hermione. If you would have looked at the blood before you poured it in, you would have saw that I switched them. Everyone knows that mermaid's blood is blue and dragon's blood is almost black. I guess you just forgot to check first." The person grinned and shrugged as if to say "Oh well." Hermione gasped, holding her throat, feeling it close up. She stumbled backwards, tumbling over a stool. Falling to the floor, she choked, feeling her air supply fading. The mermaid's blood made the potion into one that let you breathe only underwater. She felt her body start to die. Her lungs were burning.
The person laughed, dancing madly around the room in circles. Hermione watched in disbelief as this crazy girl watched her die. Tears formed in her eyes. The girl panicked when she saw the tears. She leaned down, wiping them away.
"You can't cry. If the tears get in your mouth, you will be able to breathe. We don't want that now, do we," the girl said, almost lovingly. Hermione closed her eyes, her life fading. The next thing she remembered was sitting next to her body as Ron and Harry found her. They had tried to revive her with magic but it was already too late. Dumbledore had led them away, looking at her ghost in that way he always does. The young ghost knew what had to happen now.
"Hey Ron, Harry," he said haltingly, seeming to not really know what to say to his main enemies at the school. Crabbe wiped at his chunky face with his sleeve. By doing this Harry looked and realized that the usually rude trio was crying.
"Hey Draco," Harry said softly. Ron looked at him as if to say "Why are you talking to him." Draco looked up from the ground; his blue eyes brimmed with tears.
"I never really hated her you know," he said, looking away as tears flowed more freely. Harry nodded slowly, remembering how many times Draco had almost caused Hermione to cry by calling her a Muddblood or a dirty blooded wizard in Muggle-speak.
"She just annoyed me because of how smart she was. My father wanted me to be as smart as her and I wasn't," Draco said, looking at Harry solemnly. Harry pushed his glasses up, nodding. Draco's father, Lucius, did seem like the type of father to push good grades and be a perfectionist. Draco wasn't a good student but Lucius didn't care. Being less than perfect was not an option in the Malfoy family.
"Try telling her at the funeral," Harry said, shrugging, not really knowing how to reply to his once enemy, now somewhat of a comrade in pain and grief.
Draco nodded slowly, looking back to the ground and walking away with Crabbe and Goyle in silent tow.
Ron looked at Harry in amazement, his eyebrows raised.
"Did that really just happen," he asked as they continued on their way to the Great Hall. "I think so, Ron. Maybe Malfoy isn't as bad as we think he is. Seems like his father is what causes a lot of Draco's meanness," Harry said as they entered the Great Hall foyer along with other groups of kids, all talking softly among themselves.
Ron shrugged, "Maybe." He looked around at all the people, never really realizing how popular Hermione was until now. Many people, teachers included, often came to her for help in things, from life to help with homework. He saw his sister Ginny sitting on a bench alone.
"I'm going to go talk to Ginny. Save me a seat," Ron said, walking over to the bench. Harry went into the Hall. The ceiling, one of Hermione's favorite features of the school, had a sunny sky with doves flying through the air. Garlands of white and pink roses floated along the pillars. The table had been changed to seating for all the students. It was already getting crowded with students from every year and every house. No one was wearing their house colors though. Death had brought them all to the same level.
Harry sat down on a pew seat and watched as teachers walked to the front and sat in the pews closest to the coffin. It was a pearly white with gold trim. Harry could see Hermione's still profile. Her long brown hair lay out around her head like a pillow. Harry watched as Hagrid, the large gamekeeper walked up to the coffin, clutching a small white handkerchief to his burly red nose. Hagrid broke down is loud bellowing sobs. Harry knew that Hagrid had loved Hermione like a daughter. He looked around, wondering what Ron and Ginny were talking about.
Hermione sat next to Ginny Weasley on the bench, listening to the sibling's conversation. Ginny was wearing a short black skirt over black tights with a gray sweater. She was holding Ron's hand as they softly spoke.
"Are you going to be okay," she asked softly, looking at her older brother with concern. She, as well as everyone else, knew how much Ron had loved Hermione. Ron nodded slowly, swallowing hard. Ginny tucked her hair behind her slightly large ears and squeezed Ron's hand.
"It's just weird," he said, staring out the window as snow started to fall. "She knew better. Do you honestly think that the smartest girl in our school would make such a silly mistake? There is just something that is not right here." Hermione nodded from her unseen seat on the other side of Ginny. She wished could communicate to her friends that someone had switched the dragon's blood for the mermaid's blood when she was making her potion. She wished she could tell them who had done it, who had ended her life. She closed her eyes, trying to send a mental message to her friends. Maybe she could connect with someone who truly loved her.
"What is someone killed her," Ron said, looking at Ginny. Her eyes widened in shock.
"Why would someone do that though," she asked, "Everyone liked her."
"I know," he said, "Everyone except Draco. He hated her. He even admitted it to Harry and I not even 10 minutes ago outside. He said that she annoyed him because she was so smart." Anger was entering his voice. Hermione shook her head. It wasn't Draco, she thought. Hermione frowned, remembering her final thoughts as she lay dying in the potions room.
The person smiled down at her menacingly.
"Oh, silly little Hermione. If you would have looked at the blood before you poured it in, you would have saw that I switched them. Everyone knows that mermaid's blood is blue and dragon's blood is almost black. I guess you just forgot to check first." The person grinned and shrugged as if to say "Oh well." Hermione gasped, holding her throat, feeling it close up. She stumbled backwards, tumbling over a stool. Falling to the floor, she choked, feeling her air supply fading. The mermaid's blood made the potion into one that let you breathe only underwater. She felt her body start to die. Her lungs were burning.
The person laughed, dancing madly around the room in circles. Hermione watched in disbelief as this crazy girl watched her die. Tears formed in her eyes. The girl panicked when she saw the tears. She leaned down, wiping them away.
"You can't cry. If the tears get in your mouth, you will be able to breathe. We don't want that now, do we," the girl said, almost lovingly. Hermione closed her eyes, her life fading. The next thing she remembered was sitting next to her body as Ron and Harry found her. They had tried to revive her with magic but it was already too late. Dumbledore had led them away, looking at her ghost in that way he always does. The young ghost knew what had to happen now.