Recollections

A/N: Hello! Wow, those were some amazing reviews! I'm so thrilled you're all liking this so much... So thank you! Writing the beginning of this chapter got me slightly depressed... But it got better. I intended to wait a little bit more until I posted this chapter, but you guys made me so happy that as soon as I had it ready, well, here it is. Your reviews really fuel me. So, hoping you like it, and without further ado... Let the reading commence!

Disclaimer: You know, writing fanfiction is like owning them. But, alas, I don't own. Just the plot.

"Could it be any harder to say goodbye and without you?
Could it be any harder to watch you go, to face what's true?
If I only had one more day
A quick fix of hope is what I'm needing
And how I wish that I could turn back the hours
But I know I just don't have the power...

And I wish you didn't go
I wish you didn't go, I wish you didn't go away
To touch you again,
With life in your hands..."

"Could it be any Harder"- The Calling.

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September 30th.

I've never felt this way before. I mean, I have, but not from this perspective, this awful perspective. Hermione is dead, she really is. Seeing her wand on the floor broke my heart, my already broken heart. I saw my friends crying, wailing, looking away. I knew that they still couldn't believe it. I see Harry. He's serious, he hasn't spoken a word. He's in pain... And I don't know what to do, what to tell him. How to bring up the subject? How to put down in words how I feel? When we found out, we were all destroyed (and even now, 'destroyed' is an understatement)... I was the first one to recover, to stop crying; maybe that saying about 'what doesn't kill you makes you stronger' is true. I still can't believe she has died- I keep thinking that once I enter the Grimmauld Place Hermione will be there, talking to Harry, asking me when I am planning to marry Luna.

She'll never ask me again.

Everything seems so vain now, so little, and so devoid of meaning. I was going to get to work now when I thought about Hermione and felt how insignificant my work is. I don't even now what more to write now... There are so many things to be written down that can't be. This kind of things makes people realize how selfish they can be, and how ignorant we are when we say things like 'Life sucks'. I remember my past and I feel ashamed of myself when I said 'life sucks' just because I had double Potions.

Like I said, death and though stuff usually makes us stronger. But you know what? If the death of Hermione makes Harry, my sister, Luna, and me, and anybody else who loved her strong, then I for one prefer to be the weakest bloody person on this earth.

Ron rubbed the bridge of his nose and let the quill fall from his fingers, staring at what he had just written. His mind was completely blank.

They didn't talk about it anymore. They couldn't, yet. No one could get over the loss and the guilt. The concept of suicide is a nasty one. What could they have done to make it better? How could they have helped Hermione? When did they go wrong? Why didn't she ask for help? Not even the newspapers talked about it... The Daily Prophet had published an article about Hermione's death, but since everyone who knew her had adamantly refused to say how she had died, it was a short one. Harry and Ron still received letters that told them how sorry they were, and how hard it must've been. They were right.

Ginny cried all the time. She had told them that she should have known something like this was coming; because Hermione had not wanted Ginny to buy her the maid of honor dress. Malfoy did his best to console her, and everyone was surprised when he told them that Hermione's loss was a terrible one. Damn, even Draco Malfoy had cared for Hermione at some level. Simply put, everyone was suffering what Hermione herself had called 'survivor guilt'.

But now, Harry... Harry was a wreck. They had every reason in the world to be worried about him. It had been ten days since Hermione had taken her life, and he still wasn't talking. Sometimes he showed up with bloodshot eyes, but that was the only sign that he was mourning. Everyone who knew him enough could imagine what he was feeling- What if they had arrived two minutes earlier to the Ministry; what if they had made her stay instead of letting her 'go over to Ginny's'... If only's, what if's And should we even add the fact that Hermione had told Harry she loved him the night before she killed herself? Not only he was guilt ridden because it was a natural reaction to suicide, but he had that weight upon his shoulders, too. No one knew how to help him, but they tried. They tried...

-

October, 19th- The Anniversary.

"One month..." One month? One month! I can't believe this... Has it really been 30, 31 days since Hermione passed away? It can't be- It has felt as if it was one week ago. My brother went over to Harry's. No one thinks it's wise to leave him alone with his memories and his remorse anymore; together they went to the Ministry of Magic, and to the courtroom. I personally think that it's useless, and I'm sure they think so too, but there is nothing else they can do. There is no body, and thus no tomb, in which they can place flowers or cry over. I wanted to tell Ron something, but I didn't know how to put it down in words.

I wanted to say "Hello, Hermione. I hope you're all right." But how to tell my brother that? "Er... Give her my regards." No, I can't. It can't be done. I wanted to go, but it felt as if I was intruding on my brother's and Harry's privacy. I wanted to say Hello. Ask her how she is doing. I know she can't answer me back, but I just can't help it. I keep waiting for Hermione to burst in through a door, telling us that it was just a joke. A sick joke, but a joke. But she will never return, will she? Merlin... I feel so helpless and powerless. I wish Hermione was still here. Hello, Hermione. How are you doing? I hope that you're ok, wherever you are. I have to say goodbye... Have a hug... I miss you.

Ginny wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and turned to look at her now sleeping husband, sighing deeply. Her wedding had been four days ago, and it hadn't been as festive as she had always wished it would be. Yes, they had had a marvelous time- But Hermione had been missing. She had missed seeing Ron hugging Draco, threatening to break his throat if he ever hurt his little sister; she had missed seeing Harry smile for the first time in more than thirty days; she had missed dancing and getting slightly drunk in the reception.

Ginny stared at the piece of parchment she had in front of her and her eyes watered again. Would things ever go back to the way they were, without Hermione?

"What're you doing up?" A drawling and sleepy voice startled her. Ginny turned around quickly to see Draco sitting up on their bed, yawning. She smiled weakly and went over to Draco, lying next to him on the bed. "You're crying," he whispered with some concern once she was close enough.

"I miss her," Ginny whispered back, looking away. Draco sighed and kissed her forehead, hugging her.

"I know."

-

November, 20th.

She can't be dead... She can't be. I can't take it in. I think about this and I simply... Why isn't she here anymore? Why? Where is the answer for that stupid question? I just want one answer. One reason. One way to accept this.

But there isn't any.

I wish she could just return for one day. One hour. Enough to tell her how much I miss her and love her... Enough to hug her and have that last memory... Enough to hear her, to see her, to laugh with her once again... To tell her how much I cried when I read the article they published about her death, to tell her how Ron doesn't complain about having to do a lot of work to do anymore, because she always reprimanded him for being lazy; to tell her how Ginny and Draco mentioned her at their wedding; to tell her that Dobby and Winky had convinced some of the domestic elves to get paid and join S.P.E.W... All those little things that she cared so much about.

Harry blinked quickly, trying to clear his view, but gave up on it. He was alone in Grimmauld Place, sitting in the living room. Two of the persons that had lived there had died the very same way... Why had they left him? Why weren't they there anymore, breaking the silence with their words?

Hermione's room was now locked, and he would not enter there under any circumstance. Remus had been the one that volunteered to enter and leave Hermione's wand there, along with the small Ministry badge they had found near the dais. It read 'rescue mission'; the irony was overwhelming. After that, Hermione's room had become out of bounds for everyone. Harry even changed floors so he didn't have to get even near it anymore.

He felt as though someone had slashed his chest open to rip out his heart, and the wound had not closed yet. Winter was coming at an increasing speed... Almost three months from her death? It still felt surreal; it still felt unnatural, immoral... Irrational. Hermione had chosen to turn away from life. Why? Why, why, why, the only question that ran through his head.

Harry stood up from the couch he was in, feeling the tears running down his throat, and made for the stairs in silence.

-+-

It was chilly, it was windy, and it was cloudy. All the ingredients for the concoction of a very depressing day. At the Ministry the Christmas decorations were already in their place, being December 16th. In Grimmauld Place, Harry had not even put a single garland. This would be a very, very lonely Christmas. Currently, Harry was sitting next to Ron in their Auror office, and they weren't talking. Ron was doing some report and Harry was absentmindedly doing doodles on a clean parchment, lost in some far away universe.

"So, mate... Are you coming to the Burrow for Christmas dinner?" Ron's question lingered in the air for a while, unanswered, as Harry continued to trace H's all over the parchment and crossing them out harshly. Ron decided not to ask him about this. "Harry," he called again. His friend gave a non committal jerk of the head.

"I don't know," he finally said, frowning at an enormous H he had drawn. He didn't want to have a Christmas without Hermione; he didn't want to sort through his presents to find that hers wasn't in the pile. Ron clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

"You need to get out; distract yourself... Besides, mum will go ballistic if you aren't there," Ron replied, patting him on the shoulder. Harry's gaze hardened and he crossed out yet another H roughly.

"I'll think about it, okay?" He said, finally ripping the parchment as he traced another H. Ron raised his eyebrows as Harry crumpled the parchment and then tossed it towards the door. "Stupid piece of paper," he added in a mutter.

"Um, Harry... Are you alright?"

"Never been better," he snarled. Ron raised his right eyebrow but contented himself with letting out a sigh, knowing better that to press him. When Harry got pissed off, Dark Lords tended to die. And, however fortunate the fact that there weren't any Dark Lords around, Ron decided not to press his luck any further.

-

"Oh, Harry, it's so good to see you!"

"Ron convinced me to come."

"Well, good for you. You needed to get out of that house. Have you been eating at all?" Molly asked him, eyeing him critically. Harry forced a smile and nodded. He had had nothing better to do, so after they left work, Ron had talked him into visiting the Burrow. Molly shoved him out of the kitchen and Harry walked towards the garden, spotting Fred, George and Ron sitting together, talking cheerfully as they drank beer. With a smile desperately trying to show on his face, Harry walked over to them and sat next to Ron on the grass.

"Harry, mate," the twins greeted him. "Care for a beer?" Harry agreed with his head and Ron handed him one.

"What were you talking about?" He wanted to know.

"We've been offered to open a joke shop across the pond," Fred replied. Harry grinned.

"That's great. You'll do it?" He asked, taking a sip from his beer.

"We don't know yet, but it's almost a definite yes," George told him.

"So you'll have to move there or what?" Ron suddenly asked. He was glad Harry had decided to join them; heck, he was even grinning!

"Nah, we're not. So, Ron... What date have you chosen?" Fred asked him. Ron frowned at this question, and Harry was just as perplexed at him.

"A date? What date?" Ron wanted to know.

"For your wedding with Luna, dolt," Fred responded, hitting Ron on the back of his head. Harry half smiled at this, and nearly began laughing when Ron choked on his beer.

"Er- We- Um-" Ron tried to say as he coughed; George began hitting his back.

"We haven't talked about it yet," a dreamy voice behind Harry said, surprising them. Luna was there, smiling. Ginny was walking towards them.

"Why did you sneak up on us like that??" Ron demanded once he had cleared his throat. Luna shrugged and sat down between Ron and Harry, while Ginny sat between her twin brothers.

"So no marriage talks yet?" Ginny said, and both Luna and Ron shook their heads no.

"We don't think we're ready for it, yet," Luna began, putting her arm around Ron's. "I remember Hermione was always-" Luna stopped talking abruptly at Harry's look and covered her mouth with her hand, looking distinctly horrified.

A pregnant silence welcomed that comment, as Harry suddenly drained the whole bottle of beer and the rest looked sadly at each other.

"I'm sorry," Luna mouthed to Ron, looking ashamed. He shook his head again and gazed at Harry, who was now staring at the door that lead to the house. It couldn't have been more obvious that he wanted to leave. As soon as he could, I might add.

"Harry," Ginny said, breaking the silence, "Ron told me that you haven't decorated your house for Christmas." At these comments Ron cast a meaningful glance at her and began shaking his head quickly, gesturing her to be quiet.

"He's right," Harry muttered, reluctantly looking back at the group.

"Would you like us to do it?" Luna asked, earning a smile from Ginny. "We could go right now," she suggested. Harry stared at her and Ginny with an indifferent look, and in the end he shrugged.

"Whatever fits your fancy," he replied. Ginny beamed and stood up, beckoning Luna to do the same, and they waited for Harry to do the same. "I'll come later... You two go ahead. You know where everything is placed," he told them tiredly. What was it with everyone trying to convince him that he should be happy because it was Christmas time? Ginny seemed disappointed, but she quickly recovered.

"Okay then. Don't worry, it'll look beautiful," she stated with a smile before turning around and starting to walk towards her house with Luna. Ron, Fred and George gazed at each other with equal puzzled looks.

"So... How's Puddlemore United doing these days?" Ron asked no one in particular after clearing his throat. He could see Harry cracking a small smile of gratefulness at him.

-

Half an hour had passed since Ginny and Luna had gone to Grimmauld Place, and the Quidditch talk seemed to do Harry some good. He had been heatedly arguing Ron about the Chudley Cannons as the twins laughed at Ron's angry face when a crash coming from the kitchen was heard, followed by some colorful vocabulary that certainly didn't come out of Molly's mouth often.

"What the hell?" Fred asked, as the four of them craned their necks towards the door that communicated the garden to the kitchen. Another crash was heard, followed by some screams. A great commotion was taking place in there, it seemed.

"Let's go check," Ron said urgently, standing up. Harry and the twins followed suit, and as they made their way to the house, Ginny came out of the door. She was whiter than a ghost, and her hair was slightly frizzy. When she saw Harry, her eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.

"Harry, Harry!" She shrieked, running over to where they were, nearly tripping twice in the process. She was breathless. In the doorframe, Molly was clutching a handkerchief to her mouth, and looked as though she was about to faint. "Oh, Harry!" she exclaimed, coming to a halt in front of him.

"Ginny, what-" He began, but Ginny shook her head quickly.

"He's- Luna and I had arrived- He was-" She panted, shaking all over. "Luna- She stayed- I came to tell you- Harry!"

"Ginny, for Merlin's sake, calm down!" Ron suddenly ordered. Fred and George were now tending to Mrs. Weasley, who also seemed incapable of forming an entire phrase. "What's wrong?" Ginny gazed at her brother for one second and tears brimmed in her eyes, starting to rock back and forth in a very Winky- like manner.

"Is Luna alright? Were you robbed or attacked?" Harry tried, and Ginny denied his suggestions again.

"Ginny! Would you please tell us?!" Ron exclaimed, getting impatient and scared with this nonsense. His sister suddenly reached out and gripped the front of Harry's robes tightly.

"He's- Harry, he came back!" The fright in her voice made both Ron and Harry raise their eyebrows; the first option that popped into Harry's mind was Voldemort. But Voldemort was dead, Harry had killed him... He couldn't have returned!

"Voldemort?" Ron asked in a terrified whisper. Ginny looked close to a seizure of some kind, and she began shaking Harry back and forth violently with her hands. She was shaking him with such force that Harry was having the impression that his head would fall off any second now.

"SIRIUS, HARRY!" Ginny ended up screeching. "HE'S ALIVE- GRIMMAULD PLACE- ALIVE!!"

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A/N: Gasp! What? What the hell?! Wasn't Sirius dead? How?! That last sentence was surely a mistake? Hehe... Writing this chapter was a blast, I must admit... I hope you'll review and let me know what you think of this turn of events! Until next chapter... Bye!