Remnants of Life
Disclaimer: The Characters aren't mine, only the Plot. Characters are from the mind of J.K. Rowling.
Rating: R
===Note===
I'm upping the rating to R for... some mature content. It's not really so bad though, just extremely angst driven. I just don't want some younger kiddies to think about some of these ideas. Keep that in mind.
Chapter 7: The Option I Choose
She hadn't expected it to be easy. In fact Hermione had known as soon as the idea was conjured that it would be the most painfully difficult decision she would make. This world which she had been so graciously accepted into was by this time as important to her as anything ever could be. Seven years of magical training could not simply be discarded.
In her mind the battle waged. It was not as if she had a choice, Hermione told herself. There would be no return to happiness for the wizarding community. If she became involved, she would only meet her downfall along with everyone else. If she became involved, there would be no chance that she would be spared for a second time.
Malfoy had saved her. Hermione realized and accepted it. His sacrifice wouldn't be in vain. She would live in peace in exchange for his self condemnation. She would find some sort of fulfillment in her muggle life. It wasn't as if it hadn't been accomplished before. Hermione remembered quite clearly that her childhood predating Hogwarts had been a happy one.
Her doubts swirled in her head as she sat on the windowsill in her room. No, it could hardly be considered her room any longer. It was the room of some long gone child who favored cheerful colors and piles of stuffed animals. It was the room of innocence and beauty, two qualities she felt she now lacked.
Hogwarts was officially closed the very morning she found Professor McGonagall sitting alone in the Teacher's Lounge. The woman did exactly as she said, and sent word to the Ministry. By noon, the grounds were crowded with officials seeking an account of what had happened. Hermione had hurried past and waved them away. Nothing could make her discuss the night's events. No one could force her to speak of the last crucial moments in the Astronomy tower.
The remaining survivors were collected from various parts of the castle. Hermione had been surprised to hear that there was any other life left. As she sat huddled near the entrance of the school, she strained her ears and heard the Ministry members discussing how some of the children had been spared. One group of four had hidden in the Room of Requirement. What they had required was shelter, the room complied by becoming invisible to the passing Deatheaters. Another miraculous escape had been accomplished by a few sixth years. They had charmed some seemingly useless inanimate objects to attack. The distraction created allowed them the precious moments they needed to get away.
The survivors were all returned to their homes, including Hermione. Some found upon reaching their destination however, that all that remained was a burned black frame of a structure. Those children went under the care of the Ministry. They became pitied orphans, residing in the foster homes provided by generous wizarding families.
Though she knew her family to be muggles, therefore safe from the destruction, Hermione had still breathed a sigh of relief when she arrived to see her house the same as she had left it. The welcome she received brought back a spark of cheer to her empty features. Seeing her mother and father again gave her new determination to carry out her plan. She would store away her wand and resume life afresh. Finding employment would be difficult, but not impossible. Pretending Hogwarts never existed however, was a different matter.
Hermione resided in her room these days. She found some comfort in the solitude. Days after arriving back, she realized there was something sickening in the level of arrogance in which her family lived. She knew she was being unfair. She knew they were not intentionally trying to excavate her pain, but never the less their blissful lives disturbed her. Hermione slowly began to accept the dreadful thought that there were be no content future for her.
Gazing out the window, she watched the skies for a sign. Purposefully, she had severed almost all her connections to the magical community. She didn't want to hear about the deaths anymore. She didn't want to imagine what terrors she turned her back on. But, even though it had been her choice, Hermione desperately wished for news of what was happening. And, though she knew she would dread it, she wanted to know exactly when good would surrender to evil.
She started suddenly when she realized there was movement in the sky. The faint flapping of wings reached her through the glass, and Hermione hurriedly opened the window to admit the barn owl.
The Daily Prophet had managed to stay in circulation during these times, and eagerly she continued her subscription seeing it as her only way of remaining informed.
Detaching the rolled up paper from the bird's leg, Hermione quickly spread it over her knees to learn about the world she had separated herself from. She stopped breathing when she read the headline. Feeling a sob consume her throat, she hurriedly reread the words checking for accuracy before her vision became blinded by tears. Shaking her head violently, Hermione crumpled the paper in her hands and threw it to the floor. The headline however, still danced in her mind.
The Death of the Boy Who Lived
She continued shaking her head as if it would allow her to banish the words. She fell from the windowsill down to her knees. Grabbing at the newspaper, she tore the pages in rapid desperate motions. The crumbled pieces floated down and littered the ground surrounding her.
Breathing heavily when finished, Hermione kneeled silently for a moment. Calmed by her rash actions, it occurred to her that she had just disassembled the only source of information which could tell her how it happened.
She leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes. Harry was dead now, there was no hope for them. Yes, she had made the right choice, Hermione tried to convince herself. She had escaped from a dying civilization. There was no need to worry for her life in this idyllic world of muggles.
The tears were silent but steady. Shedding them exhausted her. She decided at that moment to end her subscription. All her connections would then be broken. There would be no point in hearing of their world, Hermione thought as she rocked back and forth. Their world. She realized suddenly that she already regarded it as not her own.
==========
It was past midnight when Hermione awoke suddenly on her bedroom floor. She could not recall when she had fallen asleep, and blinked away the remainder of her exhaustion. The moonlight filtered through her blinds and she fumbled with the string to close them.
In the complete darkness which then surrounded her, she walked to the bed and sat on its edge in a half daze. She bit her lip unconsciously and did not feel the sharp pain until she drew blood. Licking away the dark drop, Hermione shuddered at its salty, metallic taste.
She lay back on the covers with her legs dangling over the edge. Her waking nightmares materialized in the blackness and taunted her. A new image had been added to her horrific collection. Her imagination had conjured Harry's death. She had no details, but knew her fantasies were gruesome enough.
She wondered if Voldemort had accomplished the task himself, or if he had sent his loyal servants. She wondered if her friend had fought, or if he simply surrendered. No, she decided, Harry would have put up a struggle, he wouldn't have begged for his life. She felt a chill spread through her veins to her core as she imagined him fighting a fruitless battle, cornered and slaughtered.
For the first time, she realized she hadn't just turned away from a world which had accepted her, but friends who loved her. The guilt was more than she could bear.
Reaching for the bottle on her nightstand, Hermione fumbled with the lid. The medication was recently prescribed to calm her nerves. Two a day kept her sane after the night Hogwarts fell. Her hands shook making the safety cap almost impossible to open. With a frustrated jerk, she managed at last to remove the lid and hastily poured all the contents into her hand.
The pills felt smooth and almost comforting in her grasp. She rattled them in her closed fist and listened to the faint noise emitted. In the dark, Hermione smiled weakly to herself. It seemed such an easy option. She could see her friend again. She could beg on her knees for Harry's forgiveness for her desertion.
Her head turned sharply to the door as she heard the shuffling of feet in the hall. She saw light fill the cracks and realized it was just a family member visiting the bathroom. Hermione sat rigidly still and listened for more. There was a muffled yawn and the click of the light switch as it was turned off once more.
Biting her lip almost painfully, she looked back down at her closed fist. Closing her eyes tightly, she opened her hand and felt the pills pour from her open palm onto the floor. They made hardly a sound as they hit the soft carpet.
No, she decided, she didn't want the easy option, she wanted the right one. Death didn't compensate for death.
Hermione stood from the bed and crossed the room. Reopening the blinds, she looked out into the glaring moonlight. Not a soul moved outside on the street. The emptiness brought her no comfort.
Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione thought she saw a shadow pass. Turning her head to see directly however, she found nothing. Frowning in confusion, she dismissed it as only her nervous imagination. Never the less, she pressed herself against the window and strained to discover what had caught her attention.
Her back was to him when he apparated into the room. The faint pop reached her ears and Hermione whirled around a second later. She stopped the scream before it met the air and hastily repressed her shock.
"What are you doing here?" She spoke to the silver blonde hair which practically glowed in the darkness.
His eyes, which were lowered to the floor before, rose to hers and held the gaze intently. Malfoy swallowed noticeably and Hermione watched him clench and unclench his jaw for a moment.
When he finally spoke, his words came haltingly.
"I came...to kill you."
===Note===
Cliff hanger again, so sorry. But I love them, and I want you all to come back and read more. =) Review please everyone, I need the motivation.
-Captive