It Isn't Really Goodbye
by Rylee Jane
Rating: K+
Summary: A reunion at the Hogwarts grounds brings up memories and settles old scores. Warning: Contains Character Death!
Disclaimer: Man, do I wish I could say I owned any of these wonderful characters. Alas, I do not. They are all the property, and brain-children, of the fabulous J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers, et al. Cheers for them, Ms. Rowling!
Author's Note:This is actually my second attempt at posting an HP Fiction (the first wasn't very well-received, although I'm not sure why :( ), and it's a one-shot. It was inspired by a song, as a lot of my fics are, but I won't tell you which one. If it doesn't bring you to tears without listening the the song, then it probably won't with it wink. It's a heartbreaker, I hope. But then, I'm evil that way. :D Enjoy!
It was the first time any of them had gone back to Hogwarts since the last battle. None had really seen the end results; they'd all been removed from the grounds and taken to St. Mungo's as quickly as possible.
Hermione had apparated into Hogsmeade first, choosing to go straight into The Three Broomsticks straight-away, and not even sparing a glance up the hill toward the old castle. She settled herself at a table far from the windows and gave a small wave to Madame Rosmerta.
"Butterbeer?" the friendly barkeep asked, and Hermione nodded.
"I expect the others'll be here soon enough," the woman said, sitting a bottle of the frothy drink in front of Hermione and perching herself on the edge of a chair. "Though I don't expect anyone is really anxious to get here."
Hermione nodded again, grateful for the company even if she wasn't feeling very talkative. "Have you—seen the castle?"
Rosmerta shook her head, her long hair whipping around her rosy face. "Not up close, at any rate. Can't help but glance at it from time to time, you know, but I haven't gone near it."
"How many are we waiting for? Me, Ron, Ginny, Neville--," she trailed off. There were others who should have been here, but she couldn't think of them just now. There wasn't time to think about them yet. "Headmistress McGonagall is coming, correct?"
Rosmerta gave a small shrug. "I suppose so. I haven't heard anything for certain. Hagrid said he would be coming, although I'm not sure when."
"Susan said she was coming, but I don't think she really wants to," Hermione said softly. "I don't think any of us really wanted to."
Rosmerta nodded toward the window. "That's what I always liked about Hogwarts students. You do what you have to whether you want to or not."
Hermione turned to see that Ron, Ginny and the Weasley twins had appeared in the street outside the pub. They entered, all their faces grim but set.
"Hermione," Ginny said, giving her old friend a small smile. Hermione stood and accepted a hug, her hands shaking.
"Good to see you, Ginny."
"You also," Ginny sniffed. They broke the hug and Hermione turned to face the three youngest Weasley boys. "Fred. George."
Their usual flamboyant nature was almost completely subdued and they offered her only handshakes instead of bear hugs. Ron, however, grabbed her up as soon as she turned to face him. "I can't do this, Hermione," he croaked into her hair. "I can't go back there."
Hermione gave him a squeeze, trying to bite back the tears before she responded. "You can, Ron. We both can." She patted his back encouragingly. "We'll get through it, okay?"
He cleared his throat to hide a sob, but nodded. "I'll try. That's all I can promise."
They all sat back down at the table, and Rosmerta brought more butterbeer, but no one said much. They all stared at the table top, avoiding each other's eyes. A few minutes after the Weasleys arrived, Neville Longbottom and his wife, Colletta, apparated in. They chose a separate table to sit at, and kept their greetings down to only waves and weak smiles. Then, Seamus Finnigan, Lavender Brown and the Patil sisters came in. They managed to come over and say hello, but seemed very relieved not to have to stay at the table and talk. A half an hour later, Hagrid arrived.
He'd never been very good at sensing the moods of others, and he showed that he hadn't improved on this much. As soon as he spotted Ron and Hermione, he hurried over to them, lifted them from their chairs and engulfed them in rib-cracking hugs. "Ah, I was worried yeh two wouldn' be comin'. Shoulda known better though, shouldn' I? O' course yeh two would be 'ere." He gave them another small squeeze. "Yeh both been all righ'? Takin' care of yerselves an' all that?"
Hermione sniffled and nodded. "We're fine, Hagrid. How are you?"
He let go of them and wiped at his face with a large hand. "Ah, I bin better, yeh know, but I'm all righ'. Bin missin'—well, yeh know."
Hermione nodded. "Yes, we understand."
"Hagrid," a voice said from somewhere behind Hagrid's mass. "I do hope you aren't going about upsetting everyone. It's going to be hard enough without you adding to it."
"'Ello, 'eadmistress," Hagrid said, turning to face the new arrival.
Minerva McGonagall looked as pale and drawn as the rest, but managed to keep her shoulders back and her chin up. She gave Hagrid a slightly reproachful look and said, "It's just Minerva now, Hagrid. I'm not Headmistress of anything anymore."
Hermione heard someone sniffle behind her, and imagined it must be Lavender or one of the Patils.
Professor McGonagall continued speaking. "Is everyone here, then?"
"Susan isn't," Lavender said softly. "I—I think she's coming."
McGonagall nodded sharply. "We'll wait a few more minutes. She knew what time to be here, I'm sure?"
"Yes, but she--."
"It's quite all right, Miss Granger. I understand. We'll give her a little more time."
Susan arrived ten minutes later, and Hermione wondered if the poor girl was going to be able to stand making the trip at all. Her always pale skin was ashen and her eyes were red and puffy, as though she'd been crying for months on end. Hermione noticed that she also looked much thinner, almost sickly.
Susan caught Hermione's eye and gave her what was undoubtedly supposed to be a smile. It was more of a grimace.
Hermione stood and went to Susan, holding out her arms. "I'm glad you came."
Susan nodded, but choked on her reply. Instead, she fell into Hermione's arms and sobbed heavily on her shoulder. It was a few moments before she straightened again, wiping at her nose with a handkerchief and pushing her long red hair back over her shoulder. "I'm—I'm sorry. I thought I could do this, but—" She shook her head. "I don't think I can. I can't go back there and see where he--." She broke off again, and Hermione took her arm gently. Glancing back over her shoulder, she gave Professor McGonagall a small nod before leading Susan back out the door and onto the sidewalk.
"Let's sit down here for a minute," she said softly, and Susan nodded. "I know this is going to be hard, but—we have to face this. I don't think we can come to terms with what's happened until we've done this."
Susan let out a choked laugh. "I—I want to, but I—don't. I don't want to because--."
"It will mean he's really gone," Hermione said, understanding fully. "It will mean that he really isn't coming back."
A great shudder passed over Susan and she heaved another loud sob. "Oh, Hermione. I know he is. I know he's dead, but—it just hurts too much. I can't stand the pain of it anymore."
Hermione put her hand on Susan's back and rubbed it gently. "I know. I'm sure it's—worse for you than for me, but--."
"Oh, no. I loved him with all my heart, but you—you were his best friend. You and Ron." She wiped at her eyes and gave a small laugh. "I knew, when he asked me to marry him, that I would be marrying all three of you. He laughed when I said that. He had the—greatest laugh, didn't he?"
Hermione chuckled softly. "Yes, I suppose he did."
Susan was quiet for a minute, the ghost of a smile still on her face. Then, slowly, it faded. She took a deep breath and nodded slowly. "I'll do this, but I need you to help me. Please."
"Of course," Hermione said. "We'll help each other."
The group made its way slowly toward the gates, which were hanging crookedly on their iron stays. Even though it was still daytime, the Hogwarts grounds were dim and gray, as though the sun hadn't touched them in years. McGonagall paused for a moment before giving her wand a flick, and the gates creaked open with a mournful sound.
"Watch your step," Professor McGonagall addressed them, her voice as firm as it had ever been. "And please, try to stay together."
She turned and lead them up the pitted and pot-holed drive without glancing back again. They followed along, most of them looking around with involuntary glances. Hermione knew they had come to see this, they were supposed to be taking in what they could, but she couldn't bring herself to actually do so just yet.
Still, she couldn't stop herself from looking over at the lake as they passed it. The shore had been overrun with weeds, the water with algae, so that the whole thing was a large, green mess. The smell of decay drifted toward them and Hermione swallowed hard, attempting to close the scent out. The grass all over the lawn was brown and brittle, the trees bare of leaves even in the middle of summer. Several of them had fallen over or been split in two, some burned down to stumps.
Hagrid's cabin came into view on the far side of the lake and Hermione bit hard on her lip. It, too, had been burned. Little more than a husk remained. She heard Hagrid give a sharp cough and knew that he had spotted it as well.
The forest beyond it was only slightly less intimidating than it had been in their days here, having also been ravaged by fire. There were no signs of life there now, and Hermione wondered what had happened to all the creatures that had once lived there. Undoubtedly, most had been killed.
She turned her eyes forward once more until she felt Susan grasp her hand tightly and heard her let out a soft moan. To their right, the remains of the Quidditch field rose high above their heads. The stands had collapsed in on themselves on one side, leaving only a tall pile of rubble. A tattered Slytherin flag lay atop the pile, its corners scorched and ripped.
Hermione gave Susan's hand a squeeze, silently urging her to keep going. In her own head, however, she could almost hear the roar of the crowd and the whoosh of the broomsticks. Quidditch had never been the same for her, no matter how many other matches she'd attended.
Susan clutched her arm with her free hand, hugging herself tightly to Hermione's side. "The castle," she said softly, and Hermione glanced ahead of them once more.
It took her breath away, much as it had the first time she had actually seen it, but for a much different reason this time. It hadn't fared much better than the grounds.
Though the front door was still standing, the walls around it had been blackened and were beginning to crumble. To the right, the great hall had been completely destroyed. Stone and stained glass littered the dead lawn for several meters on every side. Hermione felt tears sting her eyes, but blinked them away, forcing herself to look at the rest of the castle. Most of it was still standing, though there were large chunks missing from some of the towers.
"Can we—go inside?" she asked no one in particular.
Professor McGonagall slowed until she was walking beside Susan. "Certain parts of it are still safe to go through. Everything else has been barricaded."
"And—Gryffindor tower?"
"The Common Room is largely untouched, but the dormitories—I'm afraid we can't be sure their sturdy enough."
Hermione nodded. The doors were growing even closer and Hermione found that she wanted desperately to turn and run from here. She forced her feet to keep moving, though, and they were soon enough standing on the front steps.
McGonagall turned to address the group again, her voice softer this time. "I must ask that everyone stay together. Do not go near the ropes that have been placed up, as I cannot be sure that the floor around them is stable."
"Professor," Hermione said softly. "The other floors—are they still accessible?"
Susan gripped her arm painfully tight. The true question, the one between the lines, had been on most of their minds. It didn't need to be asked outright.
McGonagall nodded. "Some of them, yes. The staircases have been frozen, for safety reasons. That particular corridor, however, can still be reached."
Hermione swallowed hard. She glanced at Ron, who had his arm tight around Ginny and was looking back over Ginny's head.
The group moved forward almost as one, stepping carefully into the entryway. The marble staircase, off to their left, was still in remarkably good shape, although it was littered with debris. McGonagall moved toward it, and the rest followed, picking their way over the burned and scarred floor.
Susan had began to tremble, shaking harder as they neared the top of the stairs. She stopped dead on the top step. "I—I can't. Oh, Hermione, I just can't."
She sank to her knees and was immediately surrounded by Fred, George, Ron and Ginny, all of whom knelt around her and engulfed her in a hug. The rest of the group stood back, seeming to understand that they had no place in this. They had all been friends, certainly, but this was more like—family. Hermione, who had been somewhat involuntarily drawn in as well, found herself crying. She let the tears flow until her chest and eyes hurt, and she felt a renewed sense of calm flow over her. The others must have sensed it, because they all drew apart and slowly climbed to their feet.
Hermione and George helped Susan stand and kept hold of her as they started down the hall toward the staircases.
They all moved up to the second floor corridor, but McGonagall stopped at the threshold. "I won't be accompanying you," she said softly. "I've—said my farewell."
Hagrid also hung back, wiping his eyes on a huge handkerchief. "Yeh go on, now. We'll be righ' 'ere if yeh need us."
Hermione squared her shoulders and tightened her grip on Susan's arm. "Be strong," she whispered, more to herself than to anyone else. On Susan's other side, George took a slow breath.
"Let's go, then," he muttered. They moved forward, Ron, Ginny and George right behind them. Neville, Colletta, the Patils, Seamus and Lavender hung back slightly. They'd only taken a few steps when Lavender stopped.
"This doesn't feel right," she said as they all turned to look at her. "I—I think I should stay here. You all go on."
Seamus hesitated, then nodded. "She's right. It's not for us to go."
Parvati sniffed, but stepped back to join them. "We'll stay too. He was—closer to you."
They all went back to stand by McGonagall and Hagrid. When Neville moved to follow them, Ginny reached out and grabbed his arm. "Oh, no," she said firmly. "You don't have to go if you don't want to. I'll understand that. But, if you're going back because you think you don't belong, then you're completely wrong." She gave Neville a small smile. "You, both of you," she continued, including Colletta in her glance, "were like family to him."
Neville sniffed, wiping at his eyes. "Are—are you sure?"
"Oh, yeah," Fred said softly.
"Definitely," George added.
With a nod, Neville took Colletta's hand and turned back toward the corridor.
The corridor seemed much too dark for this time of day, and Hermione kept her eyes down, careful to avoid the stray stones and other rubble that cluttered the path. Before she even realized it, they were standing in theopening where it had all happened, the wide T created by the two intersecting hallways.
The silence was almost painful. No one evenseemed to breathe. It was all right here and Hermione fought hard to keep the emotions from overwhelming her as the memories unfolded in front of her like a movie.
She and Susan had been standing, or cowering rather, right there, behind the statue of the one-armed wizard. Ron had been opposite her, in the now-empty wall nook. He'd had Ginny wrapped tight in his arms, standing between her and any danger. Neville had been on the other side of the intersection, and had ducked into an empty classroom, trying to pull Luna with him.
Hermione's eyes found the spot where Luna had fallen. She remembered it like it was yesterday. Luna had intended to fight, but Harry had stepped in front of her. He'd tried to get her to go with Neville. They'd been arguing about it when one of the Death Eaters had appeared behind her, around the corner at the far end of the hall. His curse had taken her before anyone could move.
Hermione had reacted out of pure anger. She'd raised her wand and shot at curse at the Death Eater before she'd even thought about it. The man had literally been blown to pieces.
Hermione shut her eyes and took a deep breath, a wave of nausea threatening to overtake her. Susan squeezed her hand, bringing her out of her memories.
"He was—there, wasn't he? Right there?"
Hermione followed the other girl's gaze, to the point just beyond the intersection of the hall. "Yes," she said softly. She could almost see Harry standing there, almost hear his ragged breathing.
"Fred was—there," Susan said, pointing to the far end of the hall, "and George was back there," moving to look at the end that they'd just come from. "He had all his sides covered, remember? He made sure that someone was there to keep any of the Eaters from sneaking up on him. He'd hated to do it, to let us help him, but—he knew he had to."
Hermione heard Ron draw a sharp breath, and Ginny sniffled.
Susan seemed to have not heard them. She continued, "Funny, I always imagined that he was brave to stand there in the open like he did, but—he must have been scared to death. I know I was."
"We all were," Hermione said softly.
Susan nodded, her eyes distant. "Yes. But we all hid. He made sure we all had a place to hide." She laughed softly. "Not him. He was right there. He had no where to hide."
"He wouldn't have hid anyway," Ron muttered. "Stupid git."
Hermione didn't bother to admonish him for it. She understood that it was just Ron's way, and that he certainly didn't mean it.
"We—were out of place, though," Ginny muttered. "We didn't move fast enough."
"It wasn't our fault, Gin," Fred said, leaning against the wall. "We did the best we could."
"Most of us made it," George added. "That's better than we could have hoped for."
"Only because of Harry," Ginny said. "We only made it because of Harry."
It was quiet for a minute, then Ron gave a short laugh that made Hermione jump. "It was always because of Harry, Gin. It was because of Harry that we got into the mess and because of him that we got out."
They all stood in silence for a long while after that. Hermione stared at the spot where Harry had been. Voldemort had been standing pretty close to where they were, a few feet further out in the hall. Hermione and Susan had huddled behind the statue, peeking out only when they were sure that Voldemort's attention was turned fully to Harry.
"Time to die, boy," Voldemort had hissed. "I should have finished you off long ago."
"But you didn't," Harry had answered, his voice surprisingly calm. "And if I go now, I will take you with me. You can be sure of that."
The curses had flown, but none had hit their mark. They'd all been deflected, or misaimed, or blocked. The last one, though, had done what it had to do.
Harry had straightened and squared his shoulders, his breath coming in harsh gasps, his arm extended and steady as she had ever seen it. He shouted the words, which Hermione had chosen to forget in all but her worst nightmares, and the blue light had streaked from his wand tip like fire. It had struck Voldemort in his chest and blown him back several hundred meters through the air. He'd hit the wall with such force that the stone had been blown out, leaving a large crater at that end of the hall.
Harry, however, had been blown backwards with equal force. She'd watched in horror as he'd hit the floor and skidded headlong into the opposite wall with a sickening crunch. She vaguely remembered running toward him, more certain than she could ever explain that Voldemort was finally dead. Then, she was crouching by his side, wiping tears away so she could look him over. It didn't take her long to realize how bad things were. The force of the spell had knocked him into the wall, and she could tell that his neck was broken. More than that, though, the curse itself had been reflected back on him. Even if he hadn't been physically hurt, the curse was killing him from the inside out.
He'd still been awake then, although he was barely hanging on.
"Did I get him?" he had rasped out.
"Yes, Harry," Susan had answered, clutching his hand in hers. "You got him. He's gone."
"Lay still," Hermione had said, trying to keep her voice calm. "Just lay still. Help is coming."
Harry had looked at her for a second, then laughed. "You're lying to me, aren't you? It's no good, Hermione. You don't lie well."
Hermione had tried to shake her head, but couldn't manage it. "Please, Harry, just try. Try to hold on."
Fred, George, Ron and Ginny were crowded around them now. Neville, who had been hanging back, caught Hermione's eye. "Should I—get someone?"
Hermione glanced at Harry, but couldn't keep her brave face on. As tears spilled down her cheeks, she shook her head. "No, Nev. There's—no reason. He's--."
Neville had understood and stepped up behind Ginny, putting his hands on her shoulders.
"Harry, mate," Ron said, his own eyes filling with tears. "You were—bloody brilliant."
Harry smiled slightly. "Bloody stupid, more like. I think I should have tried to find a spell that wasn't guaranteed to take me out too."
Susan gasped. "Did you—did you know this was going to happen?"
Harry swallowed hard, grimacing. "I'm sorry, Susie. It was the only way."
"But you—you shouldn't have done it. We could've figured out something else. You didn't have to--."
"Yes, I did," Harry cut her off, "Believe me, had there been any other way, I wouldn't have done this." He had looked at her for a long time, his breath growing steadily weaker. "I—love you, Susie. Don't forget that."
He had looked around at the rest of them, a small smile still on his face. "You all—did everything I could have—asked—of you." He stopped, trying to catch his breath. A look of first panic, then resolve crossed his face. He must have realized then that it was almost over. "Thank you," he had said so softly that they could barely hear him. "For everything."
Two more breaths were all he could manage. His eyes seemed to go out of focus, to dim, and his arm went limp under Hermione's hand.
He was gone. Quietly, quickly, with no fanfare and no white light. He was just gone. Hermione had never felt so lost, so cold and empty. She had never known that her heart could ache so much. She still ached, every time she thought about him, and being back here was almost more than she could handle.
Fred's voice drew her out of her thoughts with a jerk. "Hey, uh, I—look what I just found."
He had moved down the hall a little way, and was looking down at something in his hands. As he moved back toward them, she saw that his hands were shaking as he held something to his chest.
"I—don't know who should—have them," he said, his voice shaking almost as much as his hands. "I—don't know who---."
He held his hands out and Hermione gasped. Next to her, Susan let out a soft wail. Harry's glasses, one lens missing, one shattered, lay in his palms. They were bent and scratched, and one thin earpiece had been snapped in half.
Hermione stared at them, a lump in her throat. Even in the dim light of the hall, the one lens that was still there seemed to glitter.
"I—I had forgotten about them," Ron said softly. "I never even realized that he—didn't have them on."
"Me either," Ginny sniffed.
"Should we—take them with us?"
Hermione couldn't take her eyes off of them. "No. I don't think so."
Susan squeezed her hand. "They—We should leave them here, I think. It—seems right to leave them here."
Fred glanced down at them again. Then, slowly, he moved back toward the spot where Harry had last stood and carefully, gently, laid them down there. Everyone was silent as he stood again and came back to join the group.
"Wh—why does it feel like we're leaving him here?" Ron asked, his voice breaking.
"We aren't," Neville said, sounding slightly choked. "He isn't here anymore. He's—he's here." He patted his chest, swallowing hard.
"It's where he always has been," Ginny said, wiping her eyes. "It's fitting that he always will be."
There were still tears in her eyes as Hermione followed the rest of them out of the hallway and down the stairs, but something was different. Her heart seemed to feel a little less sore. Miss you, Harry, she thought, as they stepped outside.
For the first time that day, the sun broke through the clouds and a soft breeze blew past her. From somewhere nearby, Hermione swore she heard Harry Potter laughing.
So there it is. I cried when I wrote this and I cry everytime I read it, so if you aren't crying too hard to read this part, then I must just be a whimp. :D Let me know what you thought. Please? There's a review button... click it.