.Death is Just Another Adventure.
I don't own HP.
Who would have thought that Hogwarts, a place so filled with life and learning and fun...could become what it had become?
A graveyard.
She woke up to complete silence. No one stirred. There was no screaming on either side, there was no moans of pain coming from the injured. No shouting of curses, or explosions from destructive spells. There was only silence. Looking around the quidditch pitch, Hermione saw the result of the Great Battle.
The good side had strived for so long, pushing for victory, lighting the flame of hope in the hearts of those too blinded by fear to see it for themselves. The Order had recruited new members, opposing Lord Voldemort and his supporters. They wanted the goodness in the wizarding world to prevail!
But now, the only thing left was death. The pitch was rank with it's stench. Bodies of Death-eaters, wizards, witches, members of the Order...people Hermione recognized littered the now bloody grass. Hundreds of them, frozen and still, as if Hermione was stuck inside of a morbid painting. She turned on her side and saw someone familiar staring at her, a head of bright red hair, open blue eyes. She was looking into the face of Ron Weasley, her confidante, her best friend. Hermione sighed slowly, her face twisting in agony. Tears had already clouded her vision and she put a hand to his face. He was cold. Hermione twisted her head around and vomited. "No, Ron," she breathed into the ground.
Ron's dead Rons's dead Ron's dead
It replayed in her mind as Hermione pushed herself to her feet and looked around her. Everyone was dead. No one breathing, no dramatic music, no army to come save the day. Hermione half-expected every unmoving body to suddenly jump up and yell "Suprise!". But no one stood up. No one yelled suprise. They just layed still, and Hermione stood there, silent tears streaming down her dirty cheeks. The silence was so loud it was deafening, and Hermione wanted so much to scream into it, but an unspoken fear restricted her voice, something that frightened her to the extent that she could not cry out loud.
It was not until what seemed like an eternity before Hermione remembered what they had all died for, the reason silence crushed her being like the sky was falling on top of her...Harry. Hermione's eyes lit up, her fear being rapidly switched with hope. If he was still alive then everything would be okay. Hermione took in a huge breath of air, starting to run over the pitch, every now and then stumbling over a body.
"HARRY!" She screamed. "HARRY! WHERE ARE YOU!" Hermione cried. Soon, she found herself looking over the quiet form of a boy with raven black hair, and a scar on his forehead. He was not moving, and there was an obviously-dead body on top of him.
"Harry!" Hermione wailed, choking on her sobs and collapsing onto her knees next to him. She tried to pull the person off of Harry, but his dead weight was a challenge for Hermione. She groaned desperately, finally freeing Harry of the weight. As soon as the person was off, Hermione leaned over his form. She placed her muddy hands on his shoulders, shaking him as hard as she could, sobbing unrequitedly.
"Harry! Wake up! Please–wake up Harry-wake up for me," she whispered into him. Her strength was waning and crying was taking up much of her energy. She was about to give up when-
Harry groaned. Hermione stopped shaking him immediately, pausing to listen. It was deathly quiet for a moment before she heard him speak.
"Hermione? Iz-zat you?" He mumbled weakly, so quiet it was almost inaudible. His eyes were still closed. Hermione let out a sigh of relief. She took his head in her hands and pulled his torso into her lap, trying to make him more comfortable.
"Are you alright, Harry?" Hermione breathed.
"My side hurts...my left one...feels achey." He replied. His voice was almost wistful, as if coming from a dream. Hermione nodded and lifted up his shirt a bit on his left side, and a large gash revealed itself. He was bleeding profusely, and he was sweating slightly. Hermione knew then, right then.
Harry was dying.
"Izzit bad?" whispered Harry. Hermione shook her head, but a sob escaped her throat and she put a hand through his unruly hair gently. "No Harry, it's not bad...you're going to be fine. I'll take care of you...you're going to be okay," she lied, crying gently.
"Why...why you lie to me Hermione? I know you...too well...for that, luv..." Harry said, a playful smile gracing his lips. He let out a breath and for a moment Hermione thought she had lost him. Her eyes widened and she shook him again.
"HARRY! Don't even think about leaving me! Come back!" Harry groaned again and Hermione shook her head vigorously.
"You have to open your eyes. Please...open them. Don't give in, Harry-don't leave yet," Hermione whispered to him, kissing his forehead softly. Slowly, Harry's eyelids slid open to reveal emerald green eyes, eyes that had not yet lost their brilliance. Hermione smiled for him then, and he smiled back at her. He had wanted to see her smile before he had to leave, and he knew that he wasn't going to last much longer.
"Hermione? Lay next to me...for a while. I'm cold...and I just want...to hold you...okay?" He said, seeming like it took a lot of effort to say it. Hermione did not reply, only placed his head gently on the ground, and lay her own body on his right side, snuggling into him. She wrapped her arms around his torso, being careful not to touch his wound, and breathed in his scent.
He smelled of dirt and blood and sweat, but Hermione detected the familiarity of cinnamon and the forest. Pain radiated off him...Hermione could tell he was hurting, but being the stubborn boy he was, he would never admit it. That's all he was...a boy. A boy of seventeen years old, who was succumbing to his death too soon. Too soon.
To imagine that Harry was in pain, Hermione couldn't stop the reflex of holding on tighter, afraid of what would happen if she let go. In fact, Hermione was suddenly more afraid than she had ever been in her entire life. Even before the battle, and knowing that she was probably going to die, she hadn't been this scared. But now, lying in the arms of one of her best friends, and KNOWING, not THINKING, but KNOWING that he was going to die, and that she would be left all alone in the world. That thought, of knowing the rest of your life would be lived totally and completely alone...it made Hermione feel like she was looking at the world for the first time, and she hated the world for doing this to her, for making her feel such pain and lonliness. She didn't even realize she was crying until Harry put his hands on her forehead, gently rubbing her temples and running his fingers through her hair comfortingly.
"Don't cry Hermione...everything's fine. I'm here. I'm not going to leave you..I won't," Harry said to her. She could hear him crying for her, and crying for the death around him.
"I'm scared Harry. I'm so scared...I can't even think straight."
"Hermione..don't be afraid. I've seen death too many times...it's not bad. It's just another...adventure. It will be me, you and Ron...having an adventure together. The three of us...with all of our friends...we won't be alone, Hermione. You won't be alone...I promise," said Harry. The idea of them going someplace where this kind of evil, and destruction did not exist...Hermione blinked her tears away. Harry pulled her close, and they both sat there together, not speaking, in a garden of death. After a while had gone by, and Harry's breathing had gotten more shallow, Hermione knew it was coming.
"I love you Harry. I do." Harry squeezed her shoulder ever so gently, before replying, "I love you too." And she was ready. They both were. Hermione and Harry gathered each other in their arms and held each other close, before Hermione looked into his beautiful green eyes for the last time. "See you," he whispered, and their sparkle began to fade. Hermione looked into his face for a moment before the tears began to fall once more. She kissed his cheek for a lingering minute, and placed her forehead against his. "See you, Harry."
.The end.