Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, I do not own the places. I don't own anything J.K Rowling thought up, all I own is the plot.

Chapter fifteen: The Knife

She followed Ron out the Great Hall. Everyone had tears in their eyes or on their faces except for the Slytherins. It had been a beautiful ceremony. She and Ron had been seated on a little stage, next to a photograph of Harry. The coffin was still in the Hospital Wing.

She was grateful for that. She didn't think she could have handled being so close to the empty shell that once was his body.

Someone put a hand on her shoulder. It was Lavender. They hugged each other, trying not to burst into tears again.

Dumbledore waited for them at the end of the Hall. "The cremation will be at two this afternoon for those who want to be there. You are all allowed to be there, of course. But if you don't feel up to it, then don't think you have to be there. No one will blame you if you're not."

He said this with a sideways glance at Hermione. She nodded. She couldn't come. She felt nauseous every time someone said his name.

Lavender lead her up to the common room and seated her in a chair near the fireplace. Her gaze was empty. No one knew she had been grieving two losses instead of one. No one knew what she was going through. And she didn't tell anyone.

Ron sat down next to her and laid a comforting arm around her. She started to cry into his shoulder.

"It's okay…it's okay…" he whispered.

"How can you!" she shrieked. "He's dead!"

Ron glanced at Lavender uncertainly.

"But it's not your fault, Hermione." he tried again. "Harry was killed by Death Eaters, who else would have done that? It's not your fault."

She wailed even louder. "It is my fault! I- I took him on that walk…if I hadn't…then-"

"You couldn't have known about them in the forest."

Hermione jumped up. It was Neville who had said that. She pushed Ron back in the chair, who had tried to make her sit down. She looked Neville straight in his eyes.

"You…" she hissed.

How dared he? He had cried at the ceremony that morning. The heartless bastard had cried. He'd had the nerve to pretend he cared about Harry's death.

"Don't you ever talk to me again."

He had broken his word about Paul. He had ruined her life, he had made her betray her love and her own family. She would make him pay.

Someone grabbed her arms and pulled her back down into her chair.

"Hermione!" Ron hissed indignantly. "I know you're hurt, but don't take it out on Neville, he can't change any of it."

"It's okay, Ron. I understand. It's because she's hurt." Neville said.

Hermione jumped to her feet and ran up the stairs. She slammed the door shut and jerked the curtains around her bed. She let out another cry.

On her bedside table stood a photograph of her and Harry during the summer holiday. He smiled, waved at her and kissed her photographic self.

He was dead.

They could've been so happy together, if she had just not listened to Neville. Yes, That was it. Neville was at the bottom of all her pain. Everything lead back to him.

She ignored the pain in her arm and punched her pillow.

"Nice show yesterday. I believed every minute of it."

Neville sat in a decorated armchair in front of the fire. It reminded Hermione of the Godfather.

"You better shut that traitor mouth of yours." she snapped. "Because I'll get my revenge. Trust me, I will."

She slowly slid her arm up her back, searching. Her fingers closed around the hilt of the knife she had hidden in the folds of her cloak.

"Listen princess. You might think that you've got power to hurt me but you're mistaken. You can't."

"Oh yes I can." she said through gritted teeth. "You killed Paul because you thought you had no further reason to control me. You made a mistake. You killed everyone that ever meant something to me."

Neville laughed. His laughter cut through her soul like a hot knife through butter. How dared he laugh. She was serious. Every fibre of her being screamed for revenge.

"How dare you laugh." she hissed,

Neville's body shook with laughter. "You, my little princess, are so funny."

He laughed again and snapped his fingers. "I killed everyone? I did not lead Harry up to the forest. I did not hold the knife. Nor did I hurt one single hair on little Paul's head. Other people do the dirty work."

The door opened and someone with a bag over his head was pushed inside.

"Besides." Neville continued. "You forgot about poor Ron. Doesn't he mean anything to you?"

Hermione screamed and tore the bag of Ron's head.

"Don't touch him!" Neville said warningly. "You'll kill him, too!"

She jumped up and launched herself at Neville.

"How dare you!" she shrieked. "How can you- how-"

Her hand tightened around the hilt of the dagger. Suddenly she lost control. Her arm flew out, her fingers released the hilt.

She watched how Neville's mouth shaped to an 'o', how his eyes opened wide with fear. The blade pierced his chest. It seemed strange that there was no blood.

Behind her, Ron screamed. She turned around. He was on his feet, trying to get out the door.

She reached out to him. "…Ron, it's me…"

"Stay away from me!" he shouted. "You killed Neville! Stay away from me. Murderer!"

"No!" She sunk to her knees. "I'm not…I- He killed Harry…I…he's a Death Eater, Ron…"

But Ron didn't believe her. He shook his head.

"No. You killed him."

She stepped back. "But…he…he's got the Dark Mark on his arm! I can show you!"

She ran to the bloodless corps on the chair. She ripped the sleeve from his cloak and rolled up the sleeve of Neville's shirt. She gasped. There was noting on his arm. No Mark, no scar, no sign of a skull at all.

"It's gone…" she whispered.

When she turned around, Ron was on the floor. His body was pale and cold. He was dead. She screamed.

She shot up, breathing heavily. She looked around. She was in her bed, in the dormitory. Her sheets were wet with sweat. She dropped back into her pillow. This had been the third time that week. She couldn't sleep and if she did, then she dreamt of killing Neville.

She opened the drawer of her bedside table and looked at the knife that reflected the moonlight.

Paul…Harry…they kept coming back to her. Their faces, the way his body had fallen to the ground, the way he had nodded to forgive her. The way his face had contracted into a frown when he had finally realised what was going on.

And every day people would ask her if she was okay.

'Why are you so quiet, Hermione? You should talk about it.'

'Are you alright? It's just…you seem so quiet. So…on your own. But you're not on your own with this. We're all here for you.'

They meant well, she knew that. But they made her remember. Not that she would be able to forget, but their presence, their worries made the hurt fresh all over again.

She took the knife and stared at it in silence. She had bought it to protect herself. But now it seemed the knife would serve a different purpose.

Everyone at the table seemed to look at her. She could hear the questions that buzzed inside their heads.

'They're waiting for me to jump up and go crazy.' she thought bitterly. 'They think I lost my mind the moment I saw Harry. Maybe they're right…'

Her hand went down into her pocket and she let her fingers slide over the ice cold blade. Suddenly she got to her feet. Everyone went silent for a moment and looked at her. She ignored them and left the Great Hall.

She wandered through the corridors, looking for a quiet, hidden little place. She turned the corner and stopped. Draco Malfoy was looking at her, leaning against a statue of an ancient wizard.

"…How does it feel?" he said.

He looked at her with a mixture of hate and coldness. This girl would be praised by everyone in the future as the one to bring down Harry Potter. She would even be praised by the Dark Lord himself if he ever got to meet her.

"…What?" was all she could say.

Malfoy smirked. "How does it feel you betray Potter to save your cousin, only to find he's already dead at someone else's hands."

"Those hands…were they yours?" she asked with such controlled hatred that it scared him for a second.

"You're asking me if I killed him?"

She nodded.

"No. I didn't."

She breathed through her nose. "Of course not. I should've known. You're only a messenger boy after all. Voldemort probably has a whole range of butchers for dirty work like that. Butchers like that father of yours."

She heard his breathing stop for a moment.

"What did you call my father?" he asked menacingly.

"You heard the girl. A butcher." Neville's voice sounded from behind Hermione. "After all, he was the one who put the knife in Potter's back."

For a moment Malfoy had a proud gleam in his eyes. "So my father…was the one who killed Potter…"

"Don't get any idea's in your head, Malfoy." Neville said lazily. "Hermione was the one who lead him up to the forest unarmed. It was nothing more but an easy murder after that."

Malfoy looked angry again. "But she's a mud blood!"

"She's our princess, if you like it or not. And princesses marry princes…" he added dreamily.

Malfoy started to laugh maniacally. "That's what you think? That's what you think? Merlin, you're even more twisted than I thought!"

Laughing madly he pushed past them. Hermione watched him leave. Neville reached out and touched her shoulder, but she hit his hand and pushed him away.

"I don't know who you think you are, but I doubt Voldemort thinks of you as his prince." she said coldly.

She brushed past him and walked into the first empty room she could find. It was dust and the windows were shut. Old trophies lined the walls and reflected the flickers of candlelight that lit up the room.

She looked at the candle in the back of the room and sat down on her knees. She couldn't take this anymore. The questions, the faces, the remarks. One of these days the truth would out about the murder. She hoped it would, but no one would understand her if it did. No one would listen to her or ask her why. They'd just assume what they wanted to.

She wrote their names in the dust.

Harry.

Paul.

She could feel that someone had come in. But she didn't care. If she was going to do this, then she wanted someone to witness it. She wanted Neville to witness what he had driven her to.

"Stay back." she said menacingly as the footsteps came closer.

"Listen to me, you don't have to-" his voice was slightly worried.

"You haven't got the faintest idea!" she shrieked as she got to her feet and turned around. "You don't see their faces, you don't feel broken like I do. You chose this path, Neville. I was forced. Forced by you!"

Neville didn't speak, but stepped closer.

"And then another thing!" she yelled. "If you think that I'll let myself be given to you, just because you seem to fancy me, then you've got another thing coming!"

"But think about it. Think about the power you could have."

She laughed emptily. "Power? You think I care about power? You robbed me of two of the most dear people in my life, not to mention of my dignity and heart. Yours may be made of stone but mine isn't."

She took the knife from her pocket and pointed it at her chest.

"I'd rather die than ever lay eyes on you again. And I will."

Hmm… I got some angry reviews after killing Harry…oh well, I suppose I knew that was coming. But you see he's not the main character and I thought it fitted the story properly :)

Emma Barrows: nn ah, glad you liked the chapter. I'm reading Maelstrom too, but I'm sooo busy for school that I sometimes can't find the time to read. I'll read up soon, I promise.

Magic and Sparkle: Sorry about your computer. They can be such a bother at times, I know. I'm glad you didn't lose any of your work, that would have been such a waste. (I always make back-ups out of fear they'll be deleted if I don't.)

Dark Angel's Blue Fire: Was it really that awful:( sorry…but it had to happen. I hope this chapter and the next one will make up for it, but, seeing as how much you hate Harry being dead, I don't think they will. See, I never said this story would have a HAPPY ending, now did I? I think I really should go into hiding now…oh well, it's FANfiction after all.

R-Krulle: Well, sometimes I felt killing Harry was a bit too much as well…but then I thought, no, this is the way the story is supposed to be and I wanted to write my own version of their 6th year. I mean, who's to say that he'll survive all 7 years at Hogwarts? Perhaps Rowling, how ever unlikely, will make him drop dead halfway book 6 too! Okay, so she probably won't. :P But I'm glad I got you hooked. Please keep reading!

Lucerito-del-alma: Gheghe…death to Neville, eh? Hmm, maybe, maybe, or maybe not. I'm not saying anything. I know you hate Harry dying, but just face it girl, he's not coming back in this fic. Sorry. But it won't last much longer anyway. This is the last-but-one chapter so…all will be revealed in the final chapter in a bout….oh, say a week? I'll talk to you soon. Promise.

Dansgirl14: A true author? Thank you so much! I'm really flattered! Please read the next chapter too, it will be the last one of this story.

Well, like I said in some of the thank-you's above, the NEXT chapter will also be the LAST chapter. So please stay tuned for chapter 16 and I hope you'll all read it and review. Thank you :)
-raven55