... Once again, a huge shout-out to my lovely team members! So grateful for our awesmome captain littleMissSlytherclaw, for once again reminding me when my story was due. Love y'all ...
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do you know where the guilty go?
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As much as she tried to deny it, the battle of Hogwarts had taken its toll on her as much as it had on everybody else. Hence, the few people that were still up and about in the middle of the night, turned around with neck-breaking speed to check twice if the grey tabby cat with its famous square-shaped pattern around the eyes was really limping as heavily as they thought. It was, despite all the terrible things they had come across during the battle, yet another devastating sight to realize just how badly injured the survivors really were; and apparently, the strong and unbreakable transfiguration professor was no exception - no matter how hard she tried.
It was times like these that she almost regretted having purposefully avoided running into Hogwarts' Head Nurse and instead decided to make herself useful. Albeit getting more and more tired with each passing hour, her spinning mind was keeping her from getting any sort sleep, so unlike the others that by now peacefully slept on the beds that had been set up in the Great Hall, Minerva had snatched some potions out of Poppy's bag and started working. First, she levitated the bodies of their fallen friends out into a peaceful corner of the yard and carefully covered them in linen sheets in order to preserve their dignity and honour. Occasionally, she stopped in her work; offered an ear to exasperated parents and – contrary to what some might thought – embraced the younger students in a tight hug and helped them come to terms with their grief over deceased family members. Every time one of these young children burst into tears, the sight broke her heart. And no matter how much she wanted to help these children; she knew from her own experiences that only time could heal these kind of wounds.
When at some point during the night, her pain got worse, Minerva decided to change into her cat form, which – as she had learned over the years – made it slightly easier to get from one place to the other. Probably because a cat's body was a lot more elegant and – admittedly – less stiff and worn out than her human form.
Thus, at the break of dawn, while trying to get a picture of how much damage was really done to the upper floors of their beloved school, the grey tabby cat hissed in pain when she jumped up the many stairs towards where the Ravenclaw common room used to be. There was one – or rather two if she was completely honest – issues that she needed to take care of if she ever wanted to get some sort of sleep.
Placing one paw in front of the other, the cat climbed over ashes and dirt and bricks of stones that had crumbled from the ceilings above. She remembered the forlorn looks in her students' eyes when the first spells had broken through their protection charms and collided with the roof, causing the first of many corridors and ceilings to collapse. Everyone who had the misfortune of running through at that time was buried underneath them.
A shiver ran through her body, and the cat shook her head to get rid of the terrible images that once again started to flood her mind.
When she had almost reached her destination, her ears twitched, and she stopped dead in her tracks at the uncommon sound.
The tunes that sounded through the door-less entrance of the Ravenclaw common room were soft and quiet, but the melody she soon recognized was so heart-wrenchingly sad that it took all of Minerva's will-power to jump over the blown out door, over the destroyed riddle-posing-eagle-doorknocker and into the room.
The sight that greeted her broke her heart all over again.
Underneath a half-collapsed ceiling, in between cracked chairs and sofas, fallen paintings and burned carpets, at the far end of the room, sat Hermione Granger, clad in what seemed to be the same – now dirty – clothes she had worn during the battle, playing on an old, grand piano, whose once ivory coloured wood was splintered and covered with slight smears of blood. Her face was pale, almost ashen, tears were flowing down her cheeks like endless rivers and her thin hands were shaking so hard that she barely managed to play on the keyboard.
Almost enchanted by the sorrowful melody, Minerva stood idly by and listened for a few minutes before she decided to quietly walk further into the room and reveal her presence with a soft "meow".
Jumping ever-so-slightly, her hands stopped playing mid-melody and Hermione turned around. Once she spotted the grey tabby cat, she quickly brushed away her tears in shame. Immediately, Minerva hopped right next to her onto the music stool and changed back into her human form.
"Professor, I'm sorry you have to see me like this… I'm – "
Minera placed her hand on her shoulder and the young woman's voice broke. "You have nothing to apologize for, Miss Granger. Least of all your tears."
"They're a sign of weakness," Hermione whispered, and once again furiously wiped her brown eyes.
The transfiguration mistress narrowed her emerald-green eyes. "Miss Granger, I have watched you grow for almost seven years. From a shy but bright little girl into a formidable and brave young woman. There are many words I would use to describe you, however, weak, is not and will never be one of them."
Hermione blinked a few times, before she lowered her head and let her tears fall onto the keyboard.
"What are you doing here, Professor?" Hermione asked after some time, her voice nothing but a mere whisper.
Minerva sighed and gave her best to avoid looking at the other corner of the Ravenclaw common room where she knew their bodies still lay.
"I had some unfinished business that needed to be taken care of," she explained vaguely, before she placed her cold and trembling hands next to Hermione's on the keyboard. When she pressed the first keys, the tunes sounded as broken as the ivory piano itself. "However, I could ask you the same question, Miss Granger. These floors are likely to collapse any minute. It's not safe here."
Hermione swallowed, and Minerva could see that the young witch was about to break and while she was fidgeting nervously with her hands, Minerva continued playing on the piano's broken strings.
"I couldn't sleep," the young girl finally whispered and new tears started to form in her brown eyes. "Ever time I closed my eyes, I – I would just s-see th-them."
Minerva had a faint idea who she was talking about. The battle had taken its toll on the bravest of souls, physically and mentally. Not wanting to pressure the girl, Minerva only nodded, and continued to play her own melody. It was astonishingly comforting, and she now understood why Hermione had come here. Why the founding fathers had only placed a piano in the Ravenclaw common room was beyond her, but Minerva decided that once Hogwarts was restored to its former glory, she would see to it herself that every common room would be equally equipped.
"Before… before the battle… I've… I've never… I never…" her voice broke again, and the young witch started sobbing. "I – I never k-killed somebody."
Minerva felt the tears welling up in her own emerald eyes, the sorrow and grief from all the wars she had fought in finally getting the better of her, and instinctively, she removed her hands from the broken piano and placed them around the crying girl, holding her as tight as she possibly could. She still remembered the first life she had taken, and she knew it had to be as hard on Hermione as it had been on her all those years ago. The pain of casting the spell, and the guilt that followed. The question of where to go and what to do next.
"Shh… it's okay…" she whispered, and despite her effort, a single tear rolled down her own cheek. "It's alright, my dear."
The transfiguration mistress did not know how long they'd been sitting there, Hermione curled up in her arms, with only her sobs and the occasional crack of a ceiling to be heard. Eventually, Hermione moved, brushed away her tears, swallowed, laid her head onto Minerva's shoulder, and placed her bruised hands over the keyboard again.
"Will it ever go away?" she finally whispered, and a mournful melody echoed in the room once more. "The guilt? And the pain?"
Minerva swallowed and placed her hands next to Hermione's; following her pattern as she joined the younger witch's melody.
"No," she answered truthfully, and images of the previous night flooded her mind. Images of what happened right in this very room. "No, it won't. Neither guilt nor pain will ever fade completely."
Hermione sobbed again.
"You will learn how to live with it, though," the older witch added, "eventually."
Wordlessly, the younger witch nodded. Now both their hands trembled as they moved over the ivory keyboard; both of them lost in their own grief.
"You're here for the Carrows, aren't you?" Hermione eventually asked with a shaking voice and gestured towards the two almost forgotten bodies at the far end of the room.
The emerald-eyed witch's hands froze at her words, and she turned ever-so-slightly to look at the young woman next to her. Hermione's brown eyes were filled with pain and sorrow. But there was something else written in them that Minerva would not have expected to find. Compassion.
"Harry told me," the young witch continued quietly when the transfiguration mistress still struggled to find the right words.
"Miss Granger…" the transfiguration professor whispered after some time and blinked away the tears that threatened to fall from her emerald eyes. Before she could explain herself further, Hermione reached out to squeeze the older witch's hand.
"Harry said you protected them," Hermione continued, and Minerva snorted at the thought. "Without you, the Carrows would have caught both Luna and Harry."
A ghastly shiver ran down her spine, and her whole body started to tremble.
Images of how she had pointed her wand at the groggy Death Eater and said 'Imperio.' How she had – wordlessly – commanded Amycus Carrow to walk over to his unconscious sister, how she had ordered him to hand over their wands to her and then lie down next to his sister on the ground. How she had then woven her own wand until a silver rope had appeared and snaked around the Carrows, binding them together. Leaving them there to die without wasting a second thought.
"You did the right thing, Professor," Hermione continued and squeezed her teacher's hand once more.
Minerva sighed, but gave a squeeze of her own. "I did what was necessary, Miss Granger," she said, her voice once again collected and steady. "If I did the right thing, I would have killed them right away instead of leaving them to a fate a lot worse than death."
Hermione seemed to think about what she had said, before she wiped her remaining tears away and looked at her favourite teacher with determined, but compassionate eyes. "Well, then, you did what was necessary, Professor."
Minerva gave her a small smile. "I know," she said, carefully lifted the younger woman's chin. Emerald eyes met brown. "And so did you, Miss Granger. The lives we took will leave scars on our souls, but eventually, the pain will ease, the guilt will fade, and the grief will only re-surface occasionally."
Slowly, Hermione nodded and laid her head down upon the transfiguration mistress' shoulder and Minerva put an arm around the young witch, holding her tight.
"I hope it will, Professor," she whispered and buried herself deeper in her teacher's robes. "I hope it will."
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Quidditch League R11. Kenmare Kestrels. Chaser 2. Never Have I ever...
(object) Piano
(creature) cat
(colour) ivory
Words: 1975
Warning: Triggers for PTSD