By: TheGreyLady (immaculatecalypso@hotmail.com)
Chapter 13~ Life's Direction
* * *
What happened to the manWho couldn't be defeated
Who always stood his ground
When lesser men retreated?
Assemblage 23- Fallen Down
* * *
"I know they didn't mean to abandon me. They'd wanted Sirius to be my guardian if they… but then everything with him happened and I was stuck with the Dursley's. They tried. I know that they tried. It's wrong to be angry…" Harry began to chant over and over again.
"It's not wrong to be angry at circumstance," Hermione said in a trembling voice, valiantly attempting to remain calm at this onslaught of emotion.
The conversation with Harry had been painful but she hadn't expected it to be anything less. Initially, he'd refused to speak about it, even with prodding on Hermione and Ron's parts. He simply seemed disinterested in talking about it.
Hermione couldn't bring herself to blame him. Who could? She'd felt very much the same way when she'd had to deal with the death of her own parents. She tried so hard to justify it. To make her parents somehow worthy of the murders they'd inevitably surrendered to.
In the end, however, she'd had to acknowledge the harsh truth; her parents had died because of her. It was her own association with The-Boy-Who-Lived, along with her Muggle-born heritage and academic dominance over her 'pure-blooded' peers that had given the Death Eaters a reason to target her family.
God help her, she would never stop feeling guilty for that.
And Harry, his only crime against the Dark Lord was being born. Trelawny had predicted that his birth would result in a death; it was a pity that she hadn't realized how many people would die because she'd opened her big mouth*.
After endless interrogation, Harry had opened up and let loose a rage so frustrated and painful that Hermione couldn't help but find it… beautiful.
All the anger, all the skeletons in his closet came loose in one fell swoop that was so exquisitely honest that she found herself wondering how long this diatribe had been festering within his unsettled mind.
"They loved me!" he said as though it was an accusation. "They loved me! She died…" Harry finally succumbed to his tears. The young man's shoulders quaked furiously as he collapsed to his knees onto the floor, his hands covering his distressed face… as though he had something to be embarrassed about.
Hermione and Ron were there in an instant, wrapping their arms around him, unsuccessfully trying to guard him from the anguish that wracked his being. Harry had always been so cautious with his feelings. Anger was the only real emotion she'd ever seen him convey openly. This grief was something that had been rotting him from the inside for years.
She saw tears marring Ron's eyes through her own. She'd known how Harry had suffered but had, foolishly, regarded him as being too strong to let it eat at him.
God, how wrong she had been.
In all the years she'd known him, in all the conversations they'd had, Harry had never mentioned his parents in anything other than passing. She instantly regretted the words she'd spoken to him over seven years ago:
"It's in your blood."
She'd been speaking of his placement on the Quidditch team but couldn't help but feel that she'd only been twisting the knife with her thoughtless words. She knew that Ron couldn't understand the loss; he'd always had a kind and caring family to watch over him.
She, however, could relate to Harry on a similar level.
"It's okay to be upset. It's okay to be bitter. It's okay to cry. Just cry, Harry. It's fine. We won't tell anyone," she whispered, bowing her head to the heavens in a silent prayer for strength. She pressed a quick kiss to Harry's forehead as his young shoulders began to shake even harder.
In her peripheral vision, she caught sight of Severus watching Harry's breakdown. She couldn't read his expression; she was too focused on her distraught companion. She silently begged every deity she had ever held holy that Severus would simply leave and not lend an acerbic comment to the situation.
Harry couldn't handle it, not right now. He may never be able to deal with it.
Severus apparently had heard her unspoken plea for mercy and disappeared from her limited sight. She promised to pray that night, something she'd nearly abandoned years ago. God never gives you more than you can handle…
She and Ron held Harry until he had cried himself out. She, in a strange way, had been purged herself purely by watching Harry cry. It was a liberty she would give him easily, but was hard-pressed to grant herself. She'd cried enough during the past months; everything from henceforth should be easier. Harry had finally let them into his psyche, something he had desperately hidden from them throughout their years of friendship. T They'd reached a new depth in their relationship.
She would not waste this precious gift.
* * *
Hermione and Ron came to the conclusion that Harry shouldn't sit with Dumbledore again. Even with the odd catharsis he'd reached through his outburst, they doubted re-exposing him to such a painful stimulus would be prudent.
Harry, however, remaining true to form, refused to be coddled in such a manner. He sat with Albus in defiance of his own weaknesses. Hermione and Ron had both tried to sit in while Harry listened to Albus confuse him with his father. Eventually, Harry had snapped at them to leave.
He was dealing with this the only way he could, she knew-- by directly confronting his demons. She shouldn't have expected anything less from him. He'd always had difficulty distinguishing acts of bravery with sheer recklessness. Though he seemed to be handling it well, Hermione could see the emotional fatigue in Harry's eyes each time he re-entered the parlor after a visit with Albus.
She made every effort to banish her pity for the boy. Harry didn't need pity nor did he want it.
It continued like that for days. The three managed to alternate sitting with Albus while he was awake and, occasionally, Severus or Flamel would come in. In those rare events, the youths immediately vacated the premise and tried to pass the time playing games or reading. There wasn't much talking. There didn't seem to be anything to say.
Excluding when he visited with Dumbledore, the only time she saw Severus was when he came to bed at night, most of the time that was after she'd already fallen asleep. When she would ask him about progress made with the stone, he'd simply sigh and shake his head. She soon stopped asking.
While the books were fascinating, she really wanted to help with the recreation of the stone. Severus had already told her several times that the only thing she could do in that lab would be watching himself and Flamel work. It would have been a pleasant alternative to watching her former headmaster whither into nothing before her very eyes.
Then again, it was increasingly rare that she got what she wanted. Severus was an interesting exception.
She sat with Dumbledore, listening to him babble about his childhood. Nobody had experienced Albus coming to anything closely resembling clarity but they still clung to hope like a security blanket. There wasn't an acceptable alternative.
"… she was beautiful, you know. Her name was Lenore and she loved birds**," Albus said.
Hermione smiled until she thought her cheeks would crack from the exertions. "Of course she was, Headmaster."
"Absolutely breathtaking, she was. Her hair was like wheat swaying in the summer breeze and her eyes…" he paused for a moment as though he were collecting his thoughts. "They were… blue with big black dots in them.
Hermione suppressed a giggle and continued to study the elderly man's hand. His silence didn't occur to her until he ended it with his next words.
"You look troubled, Miss Granger," Albus said with an interesting lilt to his weakened voice.
She smiled and squeezed his hand gently, "I am troubled… but it's nothing you can control."
"Is it about your parents?" he wheezed, the words were broken and disjointed due to his fatigue.
That startled her; it was the first reference he had made to her parents demise. This could be the moment of perception they had all been patiently waiting for. Slowly, she replied, "No, sir. It's about something going on in the Ministry."
"Cornelius Fudge at it again?"
Her pulse sped up as she examined the man again. His eyes were alight with intelligence, something she hadn't seen in him since she'd arrived at Rábida. For the second time, he'd correctly ascertained the facts. "No. There's a room in the Department of Mysteries," she dared to say. "There are… simply horrible things in it."
"What do you mean?"
"A pool of blood…" her voice shook against her will but she continued, "beating hearts floating in it… black ghosts crawling over the ceiling…"
Albus took on a look of contemplation. She didn't say anything more for fear of breaking this moment of lucidity… it could be the last one he had. She sat in perfect stillness even though her heart was threatening to burst. He finally spoke again, "Hermione, ask Nicholas to lend you a book of mine. It's the only untitled book in my collection here. You should find your answers. Severus can help you."
"Severus is busy working on a way to cure you," she stated matter-of-factly.
"It is unnecessary. I'm dying." Dumbledore succumbed to a coughing fit. Hermione was aghast to see a crusty dark substance sputter from his lips and stain his chin as hacked violently.
"No!" She said as though it could make a difference, "We need you to speak for Severus! You're the only person who can clear his name! You have to help us! Please!" She couldn't stop the tears from falling. This couldn't be happening. Albus Dumbledore never gave up without a fight…
… and looking into his eyes, she saw that the fight was gone. The man who had been recognized as the epitome of greatness had left long ago. Before her now lay a man that was ready to leave the waking world in hopes of something much sweeter.
Hope… what have I truly known of hope?
Dumbledore's breathing became more erratic as he said, "Severus… I want to see him."
With a quick, "Hold on," Hermione tore from the room and down the steps. Harry and Ron gave her startled looks as she ran for the dungeon. Dimly, she heard the pair scuffle up to Albus' room over the pounding of her own footsteps. When she reached the door to Flamel's lab, she pounded on it with a relentless fist. Snape opened the door, startled by her appearance.
She said, "He's asking for you." She saw the look of abject horror in his eyes before he raced to his friend's side. Flamel slowly followed, his old feet dragging across the indifferent stone floor.
When she made it back upstairs, the boys were sitting there once again. Dumbledore had evicted them from the room once Snape had arrived. Hermione took a seat near the pale boys and tried to control her own trembling.
Harry sighed wearily, "How much progress have you made with the stone?"
Flamel looked at his clasped hands in his lap and spoke. "If we had another month… just another month…"
With that, no more words needed to be spoken. They didn't have another month. They all knew that they probably didn't have another day… but it was a sentiment best left unspoken. Hermione began silently berating herself. Why hadn't she taken more notice of the epitaph? Why hadn't she found the answer before it was too late?
Why was it that while she had won, she had still lost?
Maybe an hour later-- she wasn't sure… the minutes were ticking by like years-- Snape returned. He motioned for everyone to come upstairs. So this was it. This was the end of a man whose greatness was embedded within the walls of Hogwarts itself. Severus took her hand as they walked up the stair, his eyes remained stoic but she could still see how much this was killing him.
They all dutifully pulled up chairs and sat next to Albus. Before Hermione had the opportunity to procure her own, Severus gave her his own, opting to stand. She felt his cold hand come to rest on her shoulder and reached up to entwine their fingers. She was mildly shocked by the open display of affection but didn't think anymore about it. Severus needed her to be near him; she wasn't about to deny him that comfort. The boys silently acknowledged her position but, again, said nothing.
They were unable to tear their eyes away from Dumbledore's prone form. They just watched as his wheezing became more erratic. Hermione kept telling herself to be strong even though she wanted nothing more than to collapse into a fit of tears.
In broken breaths, Albus spoke of a woman he'd known.
They watched as Albus drew his final shuddering gasp for air… all their foolish hopes were released in a resounding, rasping breath.
* * *
They had all sat in stone silence and stared, transfixed, at Albus Dumbledore, as though his vacant body would suddenly spring back to life. Voldemort had finally accomplished one of his many life goals, though he did not live to know it. Hermione took a small comfort in that but it wasn't nearly enough to banish the ache of loss.
It wasn't until Flamel had mentioned burial that anyone had the gumption to speak. Albus would spend his eternal rest in Malta next to the empty plot Flamel had thought he would be occupying by now. Harry and Ron had let their masculinity drop and openly wept with Hermione. The savior they had mutually loved was gone. It was hopeless. Everything was hopeless… and everyone in the room knew it.
Hermione and Severus went back to her room. She'd left Severus in order to take a bath. She needed some comfort. She ran the water as hot as she could take it, praying that the discomfort would help distract her from the peril they were all in. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that Albus Dumbledore was dead. They had worked so hard to find him and lost him too quickly.
When Hermione returned from her bath, she didn't feel any better. Albus Dumbledore was gone and nothing they could do was going to bring him back. No prayers… no screams… no tears would change this.
She couldn't help but wonder if God was laughing at her.
Even though she'd solved the puzzle, she had still lost. No defeat had ever tasted so bitter. Even when Sirius had died, she'd known that there was nothing she could do. Now she was left to contemplate the results of her ignorance… of her ignoring a vital clue that could have given them more time to save Albus.
She suddenly understood how Harry must have felt when Sirius died, having ignored the obvious fact that he had a mirror that would have connected the two instantly in lieu of playing a hero.
Severus hadn't said a word since they returned to her room. Nobody had said anything except for some harsh cries. Severus hadn't said a thing. His face had remained a mask of grief but no tears had been shed. She could only compare his behavior to her own when she had learned of her parents' death.
Severus was sitting on the bed with his head in his hands. He looked overworked and overtired. She didn't know what to expect from him. If he had raged, broken things and screamed at the injustice of the world, she could have handled it. If he had cried, she could have held him.
But this silent anguish was too much to deal with.
She sat next to him and placed a hesitant arm around him. He pulled her into an embrace and held her as though she were his lifeline. His shoulders quaked and his breath hitched. She ran a hand through his hair, whispering that everything was going to be okay even though in actuality, nothing was. It was quite possible that nothing would be okay ever again… but she couldn't tell him that. She couldn't make herself voice the reality that both of them knew.
He pulled away long enough to kiss her. She was shocked at the sheer force of it. One of his hands tangled into her hair while the other pulled her in so tightly she thought he was trying to meld their bodies together. Her shirt, slightly wet from residual bathwater, pressed to his and her one of her legs hung haphazardly over his thigh. When his hand slipped under the back of her shirt and began caressing her bare skin, Hermione had a startling revelation at exactly where this was going.
He wasn't kissing her because he wanted her. He was kissing her because she was there and he needed to escape. As much as she cared for him, she couldn't bring herself to be that vessel for him; because she knew from experience that ship would be torn apart by the rocks and crash, leaving them both more desolate than before.
She gently pried his hands away from her and ran her fingers though his lank hair, "This isn't going to make it better, Severus."
He jerked back as though she had slapped him. In a sense, she had but she couldn't let him do this. There was too much at stake… too much could be lost, especially now. If he needed comfort, she would be here. But he needed distraction and she couldn't bring herself to whore her body to provide it.
If she did, she would only lose him…. and she couldn't bear to deal with another loss tonight.
He quickly rose and strode to the door. As he opened it, Hermione said, "If you need to talk, Severus, I'll be here." He froze for a moment and she continued, "But I will not be just a body for you to lose yourself in… and you wouldn't respect me if I did."
She thought she saw his shoulders slump but he was gone before she could say anything else. They had taken themselves back to square one but she knew that sleeping with him wasn't going to bring Albus back. If anything, it would make having to deal with it harder on both of them.
She loved him too much to let herself be an instrument for his self-destruction.
She loved him.
Shit.
*Yes, yes… I know that Trelawny goes into a trance-like state when she prophesizes… but Hermione's never been told as much. So that's my story and I'm sticking to it.
**10 points to anyone who catches the reference… it shouldn't be difficult.
ANs- *Cautiously peeps head around corner, looks around, and finds no one nearby* Well, I suppose that answers that question. I know that I've officially put myself on the "Most Wanted" list… and not in a good way. But hear me out. If you all still really hate me, feel free to flame the hell out of me in an email or review.
In an effort to stay not only true to myself but true to J.K's storyline, Albus had to die. Sorry, he isn't a god. Fact is, I've agonized about putting this chapter out for several reasons… the main one should be obvious… I'm gonna lose a BUNCH of readers for this one.
I've been toying around with several different endings… and frankly, I see the endings with Dumbledore living as being incredibly anti-climactic. La da dee, dee da! Oh look, Albus will be okay! Now everything will be fine! Let's sing and dance! Try as I might (and trust me, I tried) I couldn't make the story end the way I wanted it to if he lived. So trust me, I'm not doing this for the sake of angst, I'm doing this for the sake of writing a story that I can be proud of. If that means that I lose what few readers that I have, then so be it.
In case any readers didn't notice, this isn't fluff. J.K. got a lot of crap for killing off Sirius… and I'm definitely going to get a lot of crap for this one. I tried; believe me, I tried. I had a really horrible ending in mind, where Dumbledore survived the curse only to be felled later but the irony of that was too much for even me.
And trust me… I'm a really ironic person. Interpret that as you will.
There is a slight method to my madness. So please, if you've gotten this far and haven't taken out a hit on me, please continue reading. If you decide not to… well… little I can do about it.
Read on.
Thank You's!
Hidden Allusion- *Deep Breath* I'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorry. Thanks for the reviews. Please don't hate me.
Anarane Anwamane- Yeah… yeah… I know. I'm a horrible person. Sorry.
Risi- LOL! You weren't the only person who predicted that Albus wouldn't be with Flamel. As for notebooks and instructions for the PS… well, keep in mind that after the stone was destroyed, it only made sense that all notes would go with it to keep anyone else from building another one. Have a merry non-birthday this year!
Alynna Lis Eachann- I hope you like this chapter. Thanks!
sweetevangeline- Glad you liked the last chapter, I hope this one doesn't make you mad at me. :)
amazonsummons- Sorry for smashing your hopes… and further smashing the hopes again. God, I can already see where this is going…