Title: Forsook
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Drama and Angst
Spoilers: Philosopher's Stone to Half-Blood Prince
Period: circa 2004
Pairings: Hermione and either Ron or Harry; it's not specific.
Summary: The wizarding world was dead. Hermione only regretted not realising it sooner.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. The plot, however, is created by the writer and is not to be replicated by another.
Writer's Notes: This was written as part of a writing contest in 2006 that was being held at the HPDC. The requirements were a story about the future of the trio and less than 750 words. Thanks to Anne for beta'ing this for me.
Forsook
a hermione granger anguish
The soft scent of the rainstorm diluted the smoke and vanilla from the flickering candles. The flames danced against the darkness and cast shadows in the small room of the hostel. Silhouettes of ghastly creatures wavered across the wall, their eyes an illusion brought forth from someone's mind. They possessed the living quarters and taunted their cousins who were trapped in the rain, but they too sought the shelter of the dangerous night when a lone witch entered their domain.
She stood silently in the dusty room, her chocolate eyes scanning over the soda cans and fast food wrappers that the others living in the boarding house had left on the coffee table. With a quick flick of her wand, flames erupted in the brick hearth, and she knelt beside the fire if only to keep the darkness and chill from her pale skin.
Hermione Granger was not looking forward to another night with the Muggles who had desired to leave their home. Despite their outrageous night lives and the days they fell unconscious in an overdosed haze, they still had a place with loved ones to call home. They couldn't understand what it was like for someone to lose everything they had once cherished. But regardless of their warm tones and accepting eyes when Hermione returned each night, she detested these Muggles who couldn't care for anything that didn't touch their fingertips.
The wizarding world lost everything in their war against Lord Voldemort. The population who had once boasted magic in their blood was lost in a warlord's irrational quest for immortality. They were once a prosperous people, but now no more than a handful of wizards and witches were now scattered across the island.
This twenty-four year old witch had lost her home and parents, her lover and friends. Although she tried not to think about it, she dreamt nightly of what could have been different, of what she had lost. She remembered vividly the last words she spoke to Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, how she had left late in the night to join Remus Lupin in what many considered a kamikaze mission. That was the last night she had saw them alive, for when she returned without Remus, the Potters' house in Godric's Hollow was just a flattened hole in the ground. Hermione couldn't find the bodies of her lover or friend.
Back then, there was still the small hope that they had escaped. She kept that small flame of hope alive in her deadened soul as she fled the wizarding hamlet and returned to Grimmauld Place, a ragged home that could have once been called majestic. Dusty furnishings and cobwebs, which were abandoned long ago by spiders, greeted Hermione. She stayed there for several nights, hoping that Harry or Ron would come.
Weeks passed. Hermione remained alone. She heard from an old professor that Harry died that night, along with Ron and Lord Voldemort. The Dark Lord's factions were exhausted in the final battle, but not before the Death Eaters had taken most of the heroes of the Order of the Phoenix with them into oblivion.
Harry and Ron died heroes and all Hermione had was their memory. The wizarding world was thrown upside down in the aftermaths of war and it was having troubles standing on its own two feet. She disappeared into the Muggle world and was too fearful to surface.
She had lost everything in the short time of a month, but what did it matter? What had their courage and ideals brought them? Nothing but a devastated world that wouldn't be remembered in a decade or two.
The wizarding world was dead.
Hermione only regretted not realising it sooner.