Disappearance
Hermione had seen Molly pull out the mirror from her robes, a startled look on her face, not twenty minutes ago. Bemusement had quickly turned to anxiety, and she had looked up, seen Hermione, and said, 'Hermione – get Ron and Arthur please. We need to go somewhere. Now.'
So, they had gathered, Molly – flustered and fretting – told them that they would be apparating to a location they didn't know. 'Mum, how do we do that?' Ron had asked. Molly looked at a loss for a moment, but then Arthur came to her rescue.
'Don't worry, Ron. Molly and I know how to do it. You can side-along apparate with us.' Molly had instantly seemed less flustered. Hermione had clung to Molly's arm as they apparated, wishing she knew more about what was going on.
They had arrived in a cold, dark stone room. There was no dust on the floor, she noticed. And there was only one corridor leading from the room – apparently this was a wizarding location. They followed the corridor slowly, Hermione and Ron absorbing the cautious mood of the older witch and wizard.
They neared the source of the light which seeped down the gently-curving corridor without anything happening, and Ron seemed about to say something stupid. Hermione, after being his friend for seven years – and his girlfriend for six months – could tell the look on his face, and silently held a hand up at him, silencing him before he spoke.
A shadow moved, to their left, and all four had wands out before Molly sighed and lowered her wand.
"Snape," she said quietly.
Sure enough, when the shadow moved close enough to them, they could see that it was, indeed, Professor Snape. Ron launched himself at the wizard before any of them could do anything; but Snape seemed capable enough of removing the boy from himself. Somehow Ron ended up with his arm behind his back, facing his parents with a painful grimace on his face.
"Oi," Ron said loudly, and was shushed by all the people around. But Ron was not to be silenced. "Why aren't you doing anything? This is Dumbledore's murderer, and you're all just standing there? He's probably going to kill me, and you're doing nothing!"
Hermione rolled her eyes at Ron, though she was considering the same line of thought. Molly and Arthur seemed to not be worried by Snape in the slightest.
"What did I ever do to be cursed with such imperceptiveness in my children?" Molly hissed. "We're here at Severus' request. He has been our inside man in the Death Eaters for decades. Dumbledore's death was terrible, but understandable. Snape could do nothing to betray his position at that point; he had to do what he had to do."
"But," Ron spluttered, his eyes wide in imperception. "But, the whole Order was about Dumbledore!"
Arthur replied this time. "No, Ron – the Order is about bringing He Who Must Not Be Named down. It was Dumbledore's dream, yes. But he wasn't irreplaceable – he couldn't be. If anyone was irreplaceable, then we'd never have gotten this far. Dumbledore knew that; he ensured that it was that way."
Hermione nodded slowly, but still kept her eyes trained on Snape.
Snape raised an eyebrow, asking silently if they'd finished their conversation.
"Why are we here, sir?" Hermione asked, almost cursing her good manners as Ron glared daggers at her.
Snape regarded her for a moment, before replying. "Around this corner, the final battle was fought." Ron struggled a bit at that moment, but Snape just shifted his arm a little further up his back, and Ron once again became motionless because of the pain. "The Dark Lord is no more." He paused. They waited. "Lucius got away from me. It took me a couple of minutes to realise that this would be the place to which he would be coming, and in that time I had collected Draco from…" He stopped, glancing back at her, before continuing. "We apparated here, and were too late to do anything."
Molly was grimacing into Arthur's shoulder, and Hermione felt dread settle like stone in the bottom of her gut. Ron struggled a bit, and said, "Where is Malfoy? And what do you mean, 'too late'?"
"I am sick of your impetuous questions, boy," Snape growled, thrusting Ron away. Ron jerked his arm around to his chest and began rubbing it furiously. Hermione ignored him and continued to watch Snape.
"Perhaps you should leave the boy here?" he directed at Molly and Arthur, but Molly shook her head.
"Leaving him here would be worse."
"You haven't seen the room," Snape replied, glancing over his shoulder.
Molly's shoulders slumped, and Hermione felt the dread in her stomach tighten again.
"Will you tell us what to expect, sir?" Hermione asked, not really expecting any answer except more daggers from Ron.
Ron didn't disappoint, glaring at her again. Snape looked over his shoulder again. "There is nothing I could say which would prepare you for what lies in that room." Then he turned his back on them and led them down the remaining stretch of corridor. Ron fingered his wand, and Hermione resolutely plucked it from his fingers. More daggers, but he kept his mouth shut this time.
They entered a large, round room. There were tall fluted columns standing in a circle around a hole in the roof. Brilliant sunlight streamed down into the centre of the room, almost blinding Hermione's eyes to the shadows in which they still stood.
Ginny was there, that was what Hermione noticed first; the young witch's vibrant red hair catching the sun. Her shoulders were shaking, and she was bent over…
Hermione shoved her hand over her mouth so that her gasp of surprise would be less thunderous in the silence. Harry Potter – her friend of seven years, her almost-brother – was crumpled, face-first on the stone floor.
The second thing to catch her eye was a blond-haired boy crying silently on a blond-haired man who was lying on his side in a pool of blood. Hermione assumed it was his own. Ginny hadn't noticed them, it seemed.
Finally, Hermione tore her eyes away from the blood to spot the charred floor ten feet away, and the ash that lay upon it.
Ron seemed about to rush into the room, when Snape restrained him again. Arthur and Molly were dumbfounded.
"Go to your daughter," he said to them. They obeyed, shock halting their need for answers.
Ron struggled, and Hermione was momentarily impressed that Snape restrained the tall, lanky boy who was empowered by adrenaline.
"Weasley," he grunted, "What do you plan on doing?"
"Killing that bastard who killed Harry," Ron replied.
"You're too late; your sister has already done that."
"Then I'll kill his son!"
"I will kill you before you go two steps, and then your parents will be grieving you as well as Potter."
Ron struggled a little more, before he slumped, defeated. "What do I do, then?"
"Go to your sister and parents." Snape let him go, and Ron trudged to his family, who had joined Ginny.
Hermione knew that she should be crying. Harry… Harry, who had always been getting them into trouble, Harry who was so impulsive, Harry who could keep his mouth shut and keep secrets, often for too long… Harry, who had been her best friend for seven years… Harry was dead. Dead in victory, dead when he should be living, finally.
But shock had made her numb, and her mind began to analyse the situation. Harry – a hero, killed He Who Must Not Be Named. Malfoy, evil Death Eater, had killed him in his victory. Ginny had materialised from somewhere and killed Malfoy. Snape and Malfoy – the other Malfoy – had arrived, and, somehow, Ginny was still alive. Snape had called Molly, and now she was here…
It wouldn't be long before the Ministry noticed the power that had been expended in this region. Aurors would be crawling all over the place before long, trying to figure out what had happened. Then the media would turn up.
Hermione grimaced at the thought of Rita Skeeter buzzing around the scene, asking Aurors for their opinions of what had happened, all the time her Quick-notes Quill writing complete falsities…
Hermione looked over at Snape, who was also surveying the scene. They'd kill him. Crucify him; make him their scapegoat, because they'd caught nobody else. Ginny didn't count – she had killed a known Death Eater, and Harry's killer. There was no way she'd be prosecuted. She'd probably be given an Order of Merlin.
But Snape? And Malfoy? Traitors, both of them. And Snape was a murderer… And the things that the Prophet would write… Hermione winced for them both, despite her dislike.
And, suddenly, Hermione didn't want to be here when the media arrived. She didn't want to be questioned by Aurors. The numbness of shock gave way to a fully-fledged 'flight' response, and all she wanted to do was leave. She calmed herself with deep breaths, trying to think through her options.
"You'll have to leave, you know," Hermione stated.
Snape didn't reply, though Hermione knew he had heard her.
"They'll crucify you – the Ministry and the media."
"Miss Granger, your talent for stating the obvious is not lost on me."
She ignored that. "Take me with you," she said.
Snape turned to look at her. "Why on earth would I take you with me?"
"I don't want to be in this anymore – this world of Harry, and lies and politics… I just… don't think I can cope."
"Why is this my problem, Miss Granger?"
Hermione gritted her teeth for a moment, refusing to give up. "Because I have no experience with running. I would probably end up making front page of the Prophet when they found me, and then it'd be worse than if I had hung around here."
Snape said nothing, returning his gaze to his godson. Hermione turned as well, not quite knowing what else to say.
"Go to your friends, Miss Granger," Snape said after a few moments.
Hermione shrugged. "What good will I do there? Cry a bit, you'll disappear with Malfoy and then we'll be left to face the media. I don't want to take that path."
Snape resumed his silent appraisal of Malfoy. Hermione glanced at him, but, seeing no answer forthcoming, turned to watch Arthur pull Ginny into his arms. Molly finally seemed to have noticed Malfoy, and she walked over to him. Hermione thought there would be disaster, for a moment; but Molly simply pulled the boy into an embrace. Malfoy seemed a little shocked for a moment; but his need to grieve was stronger than his ingrained loathing of all that the Weasleys' stood for.
Snape cast a glance at her, then seemed to make up his mind about something and stepped forward into the brightly-lit arena. Hermione watched him go to Molly – who was holding a weeping Malfoy – and begin to speak quietly with her. Seeing Ron standing forlornly beside Harry's face-down body, Hermione walked over to him quietly.
When he noticed her, he gave her a strange, sad smile. Hermione – who had been going to hug him, give him some sort of support – stopped short.
"Hermione," he said softly. "I… It's over, you know? This war? Harry won. But… Winning wasn't enough. I feel like our whole…" he gestured between Hermione and himself, "thing has been a battle. And… I sort of feel like, even if we won, winning wouldn't be enough. One of us would die. Not really die, but, sort of… Die inside. I don't want to be like that. And I don't want you to be like that, either."
Hermione stared at him. Ron – sweet, silly, safe Ron – had somehow become someone different. She'd never heard him speak like this. For a moment, Hermione thought about begging him to back up, to not… finish this.
But she glanced down at Harry – and over at Snape, who was now talking with both Arthur and Molly. Ginny was staring at the man she'd killed with horror, as if seeing for the first time what she'd done. Malfoy was watching her strangely.
"Ron, I…" for a moment, Hermione had no idea what to say. "I'm going away. This, this situation is going to explode – there'll be a media frenzy. I'm so sick of all the publicity. So sick of being… Well, famous. For doing nothing. I just need to leave it all." Ron smiled that small, sad smile at her again. He looked down at Harry, then he walked over to his parents. Hermione followed.
Molly reached over to Ginny, gave her a fierce hug. "Ginny, dear, take your robes off." Ginny stared at her mother, but began taking her outer robe off her shoulders. "Put it on Ron, here you go…"
Ginny was soon wearing Ron's too-large robes, and he was dressed in her blood-stained, slightly-tight-across-the-shoulders robes. "Wands, as well," Molly commanded, and Ginny handed over her soiled wand to her brother, who gave her his own. Arthur hugged Ginny, kissed the top of her head.
"You go with Snape, Ginny. We'll stay here, handle the Ministry." Molly nodded at Ginny, tears building up in her eyes.
Ginny looked down at her hands, which were still smeared with Malfoy's blood. She nodded at her mum.
"When everything calms down a bit, we'll send you an owl." Arthur's tight embrace, however, told of his disbelief of his own statement.
Snape stood back a bit, with Malfoy. Ginny walked over to Snape, not quite knowing what to expect. Snape looked over at Hermione, raised an eyebrow.
Now or never, Hermione thought to herself. She strode the three steps to stand with them. Ginny clung to her arm.
"Hermione… you don't have to…" Molly said urgently, taking a step toward her. Hermione nodded her head slowly.
"Yes, I do have to go." Molly, seeing her stubborn look, sighed.
"Take good care of my little girl," Molly admonished, though Hermione was not quite sure who she was speaking to. Molly turned into Arthur's arms, her shoulders shaking.
"Go," Arthur said softly. "They'll be here, soon."
Snape turned, walked back to the corridor. Malfoy, Ginny and Hermione followed. Hermione raised her head to ask, "Why couldn't we just…"
"Anti-apparition wards." Snape replied over her. He rushed them, until they were trotting to keep up with his long strides. He stopped abruptly in the antechamber, glancing around to make sure no Ministry officials had arrived yet.
"Draco," he commanded, holding his hands out. Malfoy grabbed his hands with no embarrassment. "You two, in the middle."
Hermione and Ginny were crowded into the space between Snape and Malfoy. For a split moment, Hermione wondered if she'd made the right choice.
"Hold on," Snape commanded, and Hermione gingerly grabbed Snape's forearms. Concentration creased the man's face, and a creeping, prickling sensation crept up her arms. Then, they were gone.
The chamber echoed for a few moments. But, when the first Aurors began to arrive, there was not even a mote of dust out of place to suggest that they had ever been there.