The Last Vial

~o0o~

White. All she saw, there it was: just . . . white.

Have I gone blind? Hermione wondered. That would just be icing on the cake, now wouldn't it?

No, Hermione soon established that she had not gone blind as things began to take shape before her. She was still squinting at the brightness of it all, however, having been taken by surprise by it when she'd entered the new vial. Back at Hogwarts it was evening with most people away at dinner. In the back of her mind she hoped Parvati wouldn't be arriving soon. Hermione feared what her roommate would find after this vial was finished.

The last. This is the very, very last, Hermione reminded herself. It felt as surreal as it had a second ago but, repeating the words in her mind, she made sure to take in her surroundings, her eyes at the very least having adjusted fairly well by now.

The first thing she noted was that this vial was not like the others. If not for the shock of white everywhere and the light of it encapsulating everything, she was also at King's Cross and there were no people. Anywhere.

Or, at least she thought it was King's Cross. To be perfectly honest, the place was confusing her; there was a white smoke quality to everything along with the light and it looked more like a dream than a memory.

She looked up again, trying to make out what she thought was the 'nine' in Platform Nine and three-quarters sign, when she heard someone approach behind her.

"It's where I first saw you," said a voice. "Thought it would be fitting."

Hermione froze. It wasn't that it was new, hearing his voice. Nor was it new to momentarily think he was addressing her. But as mentioned before, there were no other people here.

That voice . . . Hermione reminded herself to breathe. Slowly, she turned around.

Fred Weasley smiled at her. "Hello, Granger."

Disbelief and joy overwhelmed her and she stood there quietly observing him, all while her mind was reeling. All while trying to remember to breathe.

He was wearing simple muggle clothing, a pair of jeans and a red jumper she'd seen him wear before at Hogwarts. His eyes were the warm brown she remembered and they were looking right at her.

"You can see me," she said.

He chuckled. "That I can."

"How . . .?"

Fred shrugged and took a step towards her. "This works like a Daydream Charm, but I've modified it to work in a way I've designed it to. I can interact with you, no manuscript needed as with the usual ones."

"They use manuscripts?" Hermione asked stupidly, not knowing what else to say.

"Yes, they do for the most part. Having them act more freely was the next step. You never used the one I gave you?"

"No, I didn't," Hermione admitted, knowing that in the past she would have blushed, remembering how her daydream would have been about Ron and how she wanted to be with him. There was no blushing now. Instead, her eyes never left Fred, like she wanted to soak up every last bit of him, afraid that he might disappear if she dared to even blink.

"Huh . . ." If Fred noticed, he didn't give it away. He had moved his gaze to casually observe a pillar nearby but looked at her again. "I suppose this means I'm dead, doesn't it?"

Hermione hugged her arms. He always were straightforward, wasn't he? "Yes."

Fred nodded, as if taking in this information, but then made a dismissive gesture. "Well, that's a bit disappointing, but—"

"Disappointing?" Hermione made his head snap to her with her harsh tone. "It's devastated your entire family! Harry! Me!"

"Hermione—"

"No! You listen! What was the point of all of this? Why make me suffer through all of your memories? Why make me feel this guilt, why make me care—" She stopped herself, not willing to admit to him how she felt, even if this wasn't really Fred and merely a projection of him. She simply couldn't do it. Not when she'd only just recently admitted it to herself. Not when there was no way it could lead anywhere.

Not when she was suffering as she did.

Fred watched her, his shoulders dropping as she spoke, and he sighed. He ran a hand through his hair and let it rest on his neck afterwards. He looked ashamed. "I don't know."

"What?"

Fred met her gaze and Hermione became aware of how many shades his eyes held. They were lighter up close. He must have taken a few steps towards her earlier. "When I made this thing, the very real possibility of me dying was looming over me. That I know. But I never . . . I never finished it. I don't know if I had an ulterior motive or if this was just something I tinkered with. Most likely the latter. But I still can't be sure. I'm so, so sorry, Hermione."

Hermione swallowed once more, her throat incredibly dry and tight. "So, I'll never . . ."

"Once again, I'm so sorry." He tried a small smile. "But I hope you didn't find this all a complete waste of time."

Hermione couldn't take it anymore—the way he attempted to make her laugh in this situation, thinking of how she felt, even though he'd just heard that he himself had died— it was so Fred. So Hermione flung herself at him, wanting to hug him, to take comfort in this little moment they were allowed to have. But her arms . . . went straight through him.

She blinked. "What . . . ?"

"Sorry again," said Fred, looking as devastated as she felt.

"How do you expect me to move on now?" Hermione asked, her voice choking on the tears making their way out.

She fell onto the ground, her legs having given in to the sorrow. They rested uselessly beneath her as her hands wiped furiously at her face. How could this be it? she thought. How could she have come this far to only feel worse than she did before she started?

Fred was quiet, letting her have her moment. He'd joined her on the floor, if that's what it even was that they were on. Throughout her sobbing he looked distraught and she cursed the real Fred for having made this one so lifelike. Especially when all she wanted right now was him. Next to her, with her, beside her, holding her, watching her. With his real eyes, brown and warm and laughing.

She gasped as a particularly big sob made its way out and she lost her breath for a second. How could it all end like this? How?

She looked at Fred, pleadingly, as if he had an answer to her innermost questions. "How?" she asked aloud, "How will I ever be able to move on?"

She could see him thinking for a while. Then, a small, encouraging smile. "You're Hermione Granger."

She waited, watching him again.

"You're Hermione Granger," he repeated. "Stubborn, ruthless, fierce, amazing, incredible, brilliant Hermione Granger." He raised a hand, as if to palm her cheek. She couldn't feel it. But his voice was soft as he spoke his next words: "There's nothing you can't do."

A whisper on her cheek, his voice carried to her in a most warm and gentle way when the rest of her felt like a stormy sea of emotions. But then she couldn't see him anymore and all she felt was the ghost of that whisper.

"Fred?"

Blinding light emerged and Hermione couldn't keep her eyes open anymore.

"Fred?" she called out again. "FRED?"

Hermione felt a push and pull of her entire being, the ground beneath her vanished, and when she thought she couldn't take it anymore, she was thrown out of the Pensieve. Gasping and steadying her breath, trying to comprehend what had just happened, she fell back on the bed.

Once she'd been capable of breathing again, she looked in the Pensieve, but it was dark and without the shimmer of a memory. She tried her best to find the last vial, wanting another chance to speak to him, having more to ask, to say . . . but all she found was an empty glass container labeled 'nr.8'.

"No . . ." she whimpered.

The content of the last vial was gone; it appeared to have been valid for one time use only.

And that's when Hermione cried. Properly cried. Her meltdown before seemed like nothing compared to this. Her eyes spilled over with tears and it was hard to see, near impossible. Her lungs were gasping for air because the sobs were taking it all away and her whole body was tight and clutching at her stomach, fighting to get the pain out.

She screamed. She cried.

And cried.

She didn't stop crying.

~o0o~

A/N: Dear readers, here we are. I thank you for the patience you've had during the long while it has taken me to get us all here, but like I've said before: I will not abandon this story.

There is one more chapter and an epilogue left after this and though you might ask: But Prim? How could you continue the story after this? Did you not read this chapter at all?

And to that I say, in the wise words of Fred Weasley: This is Hermione Granger. There's nothing she can't do. Have faith that she will find a way.

The next chapter is undergoing some editing and I can't promise it will be up soon, but I AM working on it. And then there will be an Epilogue which I am trying to finish as well.

But then, it is time to say goodbye.

So ready your hearts and wish me good luck with the writing and we will see each other again!

Until next time!
/Prim