A/N Sorry for the delay in posting, I am making a huge effort to try to get future chapters out sooner rather then later. Thank you to my reviewers! You are such an inspiration, and so appreciated. Thank you, thank you, and thank you!

As usual, more upsetting and depressing things in this chapter…like death. But there might be some good news…

Enjoy!

Chapter 7

6 months ago

Great Un-Expectations

Desolate, soulless, the structure sat in its rocky isolation and the unforgiving moon kept it bathed in ghostly daylight. If one were to listen closely enough, they could hear the howls of redemption. If one were to care enough, they could notice the unbearable suffering begging for release, any release. For even Hell had to be better than Azkaban Prison.

The Dementors had returned after the defeat of their master, and the Ministry allowed the foul beasts to watch over the even fouler beasts. But they disappeared. The only evidence that proved their authenticity were the pools of black hooded cloaks left behind. The explanation was that someone, something, had evaporated them. Fizzled them out of existence.

Then the true deviousness of the Ministry was revealed when they were forced to arrange for a suitable replacement.

It was a fact. There were few wizards and witches left, and the Ministry had to arrive at a solution that eliminated all "hands on" requirements. This solution, comprised of a complex combination of spells and charms circled the compound, keeping the prisoners secured and alive. Alive, without food, water, or free will.

Those responsible for the destruction of humanity now reaped its benefits and redefined their definition of evil and torment. It was because of this, that the Armageddon that rained down from the sky one day, was a welcome sight.

Boulders hurled from the sky, pouring fire and destruction on the only place that didn't care, and efficiently eliminated the atrocity that the Ministry had created. A lone island is all that remains; yet the sun still does not shine. Choosing instead to hold its reverence for places that are not earth's dirty little secret.

Somehow this attack did not affect me as much as the other ones. Azkaban Prison was the place "swept under the carpet", the people there already dismissed as dead.

But it was another representation of our world, destroyed.

Who hates us this much?

When faced with mortality, we all examine life itself, cling to it. I began where all begin…photographs.

Photographs are taken to preserve a perfect moment, whether it is happiness, joy, surprise, or love. We steal the soul of these moments and hold them hostage for our own selfish confirmation that these moments of unbridled, unconditional purity did happen.

And yet, we only seem to bask in their glory in moments of sadness. We taint them with our weakness, our desperation to have that perfect moment again.

We only look at them when we need to punish ourselves.

I let their souls stab me with the pain of regret, remind me of what I had forgotten, and reintroduce the fact that I was…at some point…happy.

I spent hours gazing at the portraits of Ron's family. I watched as Mrs. Weasley tried to reach past the frame to touch my cheek. I watched as the twins tried to keep up their prankster façade, but unable to hide the sadness in their eyes. And I watched the entire family portrait portray the happiness and love that defined them.

I'm not at the bottom

I'm not at the top

But this is the stair

Where I always stop

So much darkness had crept into the Burrow, but there was a magnificent light at the end of this tunnel.

Hermione.

By the grace of whatever otherworldly beings, she was found on the second day of the search and cleanup effort of what was once known as the Ministry of Magic. Her injuries were severe, but not severe enough to keep her incapacitated for a significant amount of time.

But nothing is without a price.

Hermione had lost her baby.

A loss of that magnitude will shatter anyone's resilience, and Hermione was no exception. Ron was torn between the miracle that Hermione was alive, and his heart breaking at the loss of his baby girl. Together, they struggled to overcome their anguish and became closer then ever before. They were rarely without each other's company, however, that dependency was unrealistic and they would inevitably need to separate for a short time. Hermione would station herself at the window and patiently wait for his return, and I would either sit with her in silence or we would talk about anything, everything.

Once, while making my way to the kitchen to fetch some tea for our afternoon, I heard a whisper float by.

"Tell them…she's with me."

I turned towards the voice, looking at the matriarch of my second family.

"Tell them…she's with all of us."

I felt my breath hitch.

"Tell them how beautiful she is, and that she's here…safe…waiting to meet them."

I felt tears breach the rim and flow freely. I nodded my head, promised to deliver the message, and thanked her before continuing on my original path.

It was later in the evening, when we will all sitting in the garden that I told them.

Let me leave

And watch it all

From afar

Where I am safe

After a few months, Hermione stepped back into the world by accepting Minerva McGonagall's offer to help out at Hogwarts.

Hogwarts was no longer a school, but more of a safe house for witches and wizards who had no place else to go. Hermione worked with potions, since they were still essential to the remaining objectives our kind still had. She found peace there, finding comfort in the solitude of the dungeons. Weeks went by seamlessly, enjoying the regimentation.

Until that day when I walked through the door and knew something was wrong.

I found Ron in the living room, unresponsive to my confusion and concern. He looked as if he were staring into the unbelievable, trying to make sense of the undeniable. I abandoned my attempt and went in search of Hermione.

I found her in their bedroom.

She approached me as I entered the room, shutting the door behind me, and I saw a sinister smile playing around her mouth. I knew whatever had happened was a milestone, and thankfully not bad news. I cocked my head in query, anxious to hear the story. She leaned over and whispered in my ear,

"I want to show you"

She walked me over to the pensieve sitting on her dresser, and pulled me in.

I recognized the halls of Hogwarts immediately, regardless of the absence of colors from the pensieve's memory. We quickly detoured into a darkened room and came to a stop behind the Memory Hermione, who was focused on a cauldron in front of her.

The Real Hermione leaned over and explained that she had been working on improving different potions, combining them to serve multiple purposes. She had been perfecting a potion that would allow the drinker to see spells, enchantments. One could see if wards protected something, or tell if someone was under the Impervious Curse, or see if someone were hiding under the guise of the Polyjuice potion.

A screech of triumph erupted from Memory Hermione and a grin graced her face, announcing that her efforts had been a success. She ladled a small amount of the potion, swallowed it down, and looked around the room. Her grin grew wider as she passed herself on the final test. The truly amazing thing was I could see the reflection of the magic she could now see, swirling in her eyes. She was so proud of herself, allowing a full smile to spread across her face, a sight that wrapped around my heart. I turned toward the Real Hermione, thinking that while this was all great, was this what she wanted to show me?

The look on her face told me it wasn't.

Memory Hermione ladled more of the potion into a bottle and secured it with a cork. She ran from the room, a noticeable glee in her step, ready to show her mentor her prize and receive the adulation that her child within still needed.

I started to follow, but was stopped before I could make a step. I turned to the Real Hermione and saw how her face had transformed from how it looked in her bedroom. I gathered that events were about to take a wrong turn.

Hermione seemed as if she were trying to prepare herself for what was coming, finally she faced me squarely with her patent determination, and we left the room.

We walked slowly down the hallway and Hermione spoke,

"I never told you this, actually I never told anyone, how much I idolized Minerva….I mean Professor McGonagall."

I didn't say anything, but we all kinda knew this already.

"She was everything that mattered. Tough, smart, brave, she always commanded attention. Seriously Harry, anyone who could dole out punishment to your charm was an ace in my book. Back in the early years, she and I would talk for hours, my admiration growing every minute. If you can believe this, I used to try and fashion my hair in a bun…well, you can imagine how well that went."

I shared in her uneasy laughter before asking if we were walking to slow and would miss the point of this show and tell.

"No, I ran into Millicent first."

We walked a bit more before coming to a stop at McGonagall's office. We arrived just in time to see Memory Hermione burst through the door….and scream.

I rushed forward; glancing back at the Real Hermione who stayed put, but encouraged me to continue inside.

I stepped over the threshold, and buckled at the sight before me.

There were two Hermiones. One, Memory Hermione, was standing just opposite the door. Another Hermione was yanking a knife out of Professor McGonagall's throat, delighting in the arterial spray that showered her.

It was the last moment of McGonagall's life, infused with a look of betrayal and shock.

"I could see who it really was, you know, because of the potion. She didn't know. She thought it was me."

The Real Hermione had stepped up beside me, and maneuvered her ice-cold hand into mine. Her grip was fierce; I could feel the hate coursing through her fingertips, pulsing with every heartbeat.

The Hermione holding the knife turned towards Memory Hermione, grinning wickedly…and began to change.

The metamorphosis altered the bushy brown hair to blonde; she grew taller and stockier, and transformed until what was standing before me was a ghost.

Lucius Malfoy.

And I said ghost because he was supposed to be dead.

What was ironic was that he had been killed so many times. Being such a vital part of the Death Eater regime, he often had flunkies drink Polyjuice to act as look-a-likes. So why was I surprised?

Because I really thought he had died in the war.

It was never in his nature to bide his time, so where had he been? Was he responsible for the Ministry? Was he the answer for all of our problems?

I glanced back at the Real Hermione and saw that sinister smile again.

The show was about to begin.

Lucius began to approach Memory Hermione, blabbing on and on about how Voldemort never had any true power, being a mudblood. I wasn't paying any attention, I was focused on Memory Hermione, who looked more enraged then had ever been registered as humanly possible.

Lucius was too self-absorbed to notice the breeze swirling about, ripping strength from the hallowed halls of Hogwarts. He didn't notice how the torch flames shot up, then extinguished. He didn't notice the air become so cold, as if something were drawing the very essence of it. He didn't notice the sparks of electricity that crackled from her fingers to the floor.

Memory Hermione was looking down, portraying in Lucius's mind a very meek opponent. Her robes billowed and whipped in the wind, and the light in the room diminished, spreading its death into the hallway and presumably throughout the castle.

I was on the edge of my seat.

Lucius stopped in front of his prey, pleased that she appeared to cower before him. He loomed over her.

"You know, my wife has been dead for quite some time and I haven't been able to get my satisfaction as often as I would like. It's a good thing that you are no longer contaminated with that tainted baby."

He started to reach over and grab her chin, but before his hand could touch her, she jerked her head up and flung him across the room. Just with that simple motion, Lucius sailed by and slammed into the wall.

His eyes were wide with shock...so were mine.

Her soft brown eyes were black now, hijacked by fury and power. She him pinned against the wall just with the force of her will, pushing him harder against the cold surface, making the wall crack around him.

She began to advance on him.

"Everyone is always so afraid and concerned about the Boy Who Lived. What he's doing, where he's been." She spat at him.

Small cuts appeared on Lucius's skin, peeling back, separating flesh from muscle.

"No one ever pays attention to the mudblood. Didn't think I was a threat? Do I have your attention now?

She reached her destination, only inches away from him.

"This is for touching Minerva!"

His fingernails ripped off, one by one.

"This is for looking at Minerva!"

His eyelids tore away.

"This is for speaking to Minerva"

His tongue was shredded and fleshy meat dropped from his mouth to the floor.

She let him suffer with the wounds for a while, until his screams minimized to incoherent moans and he bordered on unconscious. Her hand swept over him, repairing him, bringing him back from the brink. She leaned in, inhaling his fear,

"I don't want you to miss a moment of this." She seethed.

The Real Hermione had moved herself between the two, obviously wanting to relive this moment, and smiled self-satisfactorily as Memory Hermione slowly brought her hands up and circled Lucius's throat. She slowly, methodically, physically choked the life out of him, never leaving his sight until his sight died with the rest of him and he dropped ungraciously to the floor.

"I do hope this lesson has been as educational for you as it was for me. Enjoy your new home in Hell."

All of us stared at the corpse, unblinking, until Memory Hermione incinerated his body with a wink of her eye. It was a shout from the doorway that finally drew our gaze away.

Ron had rushed into the room; meaning only to investigate the reason the castle was draining energy. He grabbed Memory Hermione and checked her for injuries; it took him a moment to notice the other guests in the room.

He walked over to McGonagall, crossed her arms over her chest and reverently closed her eyes. Lucius was barely recognizable in the blaze, but Ron made his first educated guess, mainly due to the presence of the serpent tipped cane against the wall. He focused back on his wife, unsure of what happened but knowing it was over now.

She was still highly charged, unable to release all the power she had imbued. She looked back down at the floor,

"Do you still love me?"

Ron ran to her, drawing her close, rocking her back and forth.

"Now more then ever."

Both Hermiones wept. Memory Hermione, anchored by her love, slowly let go of the magic, slowly returned. The Real Hermione watched the scene from the security of my arms.

"Time to go."

And with a flash we were back in her bedroom.

Her wide eyes searched mine for a reflection of the pride she felt, she found what she was looking for and smiled. I stroked her cheek,

"I knew you would discover what you were capable of."

She giggled and flung herself into my arms.

I escorted her through the house, talking about what I had witnessed. We were making our way to join Ron; he was so confused and really needed the full story. We had just rounded the corner into the kitchen to walk through the other side to the living room, when we were halted by a knock on the door.

"Harry, it's me."

When you look into my eyes

I hope you see

The gentle cry

Of a broken hearts plea

A/N Thanks for reading, please leave a review?

Lauren: Thank you for the review! I am glad that you are able to feel what Harry is going through, it means that I am doing my job properly. Please keep reading and enjoying.

Galynsolo: Work of art! Like reading poetry! Thank you so much! I am so glad that you are enjoying it, and even more glad that you left me a wonderful review. As for the happy ending, all I can promise is that it will be astonishing.

Silver Emerald Eyes: psst…I actually reread your reviews because they always make me smile; you are too good to me. And good use of the word intoxicating! Thank you for the adoration for my brother; he adores you for saying it! He helps me a lot with plot development, so he is pretty adorable. Thank you so much for the ever-encouraging reviews, they really keep me going!

Starlollie: Did you see that? How I snuck part of your review into the chapter? You were right, I really needed to give this poor guy some good news. I do seem to put him through the ringer…but please keep reading, you are my moral compass…and I promise the end will be worth it!

Hpstoryguy: Glad you love the story…sorry it made you cry. Please keep reading? Just remember to bring the tissues…

SilentSleepingInTheCold: Thank you for the review!

R.mai: Glad you are interested in the story, sorry about the confusion and even more sorry about all the sadness. No "in the present" interaction yet, but I promise it is coming!

Beth5572: Thank you for the review! I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as the others!

Kilikapele: All the chapters in one go! I'm astonished, honored and pleased! Thank you! Sorry you had to wait so long for this one, I will try to get the next one out faster. I am so glad that my story found you, and I truly thank you for the amazing review!