AN: Hello, fanfiction and Harry Potter fans. I do not own Harry Potter, but feel free to enjoy this or hate it. If you enjoy it, please leave a lovely comment, if you hate it, then leave some constructive criticism, thanks!
AN2: I just want to take a moment to thank everyone who took the time to read my story. I never realized until I started uploading my own work, that it takes a great amount of courage to publish, so thank you; especially to those who favorited and followed the story. A special shout out to those who left a review. I promise I read all of them (even if they aren't in English-through google translate) and they honestly make my day.
AN3: I will try to keep the schedule of uploading every Tuesdays and Thursdays, unless I get really boggled up with life. So here this week's first chapter! Enjoy!
Can You Take the Jump?
Chapter 3
It started with a burning sensation in his wedding ring, then a familiar unpleasant tug in his gut. The disorienting sensation of being portkeyed hadn't stopped for a while. Rose threw up after their third portkey and was now passed out in his arms while James looked green quite green as well. They wouldn't be able to last any longer.
The swirling sensation disappeared, indicating that they'd arrived at their new destination. He immediately knew where they were from the sounds of the ocean coming from the window at a close distance away from them. They were standing in Shell Cottage.
He looked down next to him to see James stumbling on his feet, just about to fall over. He caught the young boy's shoulder to steady him.
"Is it finally over?" He pleaded.
Ron wanted to tell him yes. He didn't like lying to children, even if some people said it was for their own good. But in his opinion, being lied to was never a good feeling, no matter what age.
"I'm not sure, mate." He told him honestly.
Ron settled his daughter down on the sofa to get some proper rest before they might be transported again. With a heavy heart, he wiped the tears streaming out of her closed eyes.
Ron stared at his wedding ring. He had no idea it was a portkey. How many secret plans did his wife keep from him? He let out a frustrated sigh, not used to being ousted in the important plans. Ron thought back with painful regret to his and Hermione's series of explosive fights about her paranoia.
At first, he was understanding. The war had just ended and the uneasiness wouldn't leave her immediately, but then years passed, yet she couldn't just let it go. For years, he would find books on protection charms, healing potions, defense against the Dark Arts, and sometimes even of the Dark Arts hidden around the corners of their house.
Her job in the ministry didn't help their relationship either. Being in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement made her privy to all the bad remaining in their world; all the remaining Death Eaters or sympathizers and their retaliatory actions. While Hermione's intelligence, calculating nature, and sometimes cold and manipulative traits helped her rise the ranks of her department, the same traits made having a romantic relationship near impossible. She never knew how to unwind, she struggled to separate her work personal and her home life. They fought, screamed and said horrible things to each other. They almost divorced, but then Rose came into the picture and she vowed that she would change.
Now, he understood with insurmountable clarity, Hermione had never really felt it over. Unable to voice such a thought without being called crazy, Hermione had been preparing for the worst, nonstop, for 15 years, all by herself.
Ron looked down on his wedding ring once more. It was a simple gold band, but Hermione had chosen it after great consideration, she had gone on and on about the specialness of this specific gold. He had kissed her to make her stop her rambling lecture.
He felt a tug at his collar. He looked down to see Rose had opened her eyes, the dizziness must've marginally subsided. She was staring at him with the same doe-like eyes that Hermione had.
"Daddy?" She whispered. The expression her father was wearing was one she'd never seen him make before. It looked contorted and unnatural on the usually jolly man's face.
"Are you okay?" She asked, concerned. "You look…like mommy."
"Hm?" Ron asked, wondering what she meant.
"You look like mommy that one time the scary man hit you in the head with a spell. The time you fell asleep for days!" She told him, describing the time a Death Eater sympathizer had accosted his family when they were out on a family dinner. The stunning spell had hit his head directly as he tried to block the red jet of magic flying in the direction of his heavily pregnant wife and child. The head injury made him unconscious for 2 days, causing Hermione to lose hair from stress and accelerated the birth of their son.
When Ron regained consciousness, the expression on Hermione's face had been one of relief and joy, but he had a feeling Rose wasn't talking about that. If Hermione felt even an ounce of fear he currently felt, he knew he needed to apologize for causing her such worry.
Rose reached out and put her small finger where his brows furrowed into a deep frown, not liking her happy and brave father looking so serious and fearful. She didn't like it at all. She finally smiled when the frown was replaced with a small smile.
"Thank you, baby." With a kiss on her forehead, he knelt to Rose's and James's level. "Alright kids, this is what we're going to do." He flicked his wand over to the couch where a shawl lay, it shook itself off and wrapped around his body. Ron awkwardly twisted his arm to put Hugo on his back, and the shawl wrapped his son securely to him and tied it self tightly across his chest. "We're going on a scavenger hunt! Anyone who can the most unexpired food in the house and a bottle where we can hold water is going get candy when we get home later!" Ron didn't know when they would go home, or if they ever could, but those issues were not to be ever expressed aloud, especially to a pair of very scared children.
The oddness of the sudden change in Ron's mood didn't escape the children's notice, but encouraged to see a somewhat normal Ron, they scampered off to find the requested items.
While the children were looking for some sort of food, he quickly made his way over to medicine cabinets and took everything he could. They had no idea when they would be displaced again without warning, they needed to grab some extra necessities before falling asleep for the rest of the night.
Although the small cottage had long been left by his older brother and sister-in-law when their family started grow, it seemed someone had been coming and going since there wasn't a layer of dust that'd settled on any of the surfaces. When he opened the medicine cabinet, he knew it was Hermione that had been at the cottage. He could tell by the way the potions were organized. Bruise paste, and Dittany were in the most reachable shelf while other potions and pastes were neatly organized on various shelves depending on its uses and how often they were used. The bottles were facing perfectly forward so that you could see the labels, along with 3 back-up bottles of the same medication in case they were in low supply. The sight made Ron smile sadly, memories of Hermione's adorable annoyed face whenever he didn't put the potions back into their correct spot flashed before his mind.
He shook off the image of his wife, reassuring himself that he would see or at least hear from her soon. The grabbed all the bottles he could and threw them in a bag with undetectable extension charms that previously contained travel-use toiletries.
"Uncle Ron!?" The sound of James's concerned voice made Ron run.
…
Hermione faced the door that locked her in. She had to somehow get out, but the door was locked with magic. Her previous efforts told her that it was no ordinary locking spell. The magical trace felt personal and familiar. Hermione frowned, where had she seen this kind of locking spell before?
"This is not Voldemort's personal touch, his is much more distorted magic, even simple spells like these are tainted with the rottenness of him." She thought. "No this is pureblood magic. Privatised by the user, like the Marauder's map." she concluded, but she'd seen the magical signature before. She studied the cunning spell with caution.
"Nott." she said out loud in realization.
When the Ministry was raiding different Death Eaters homes for dark artefacts, she oversaw the Nott Mansion while Harry kindly took the job for Malfoy Manor. Theodore Nott had the same spell on the door to his room. Hermione remembered working for days to break the tricky spell.
Hermione glanced down Ginny's wand that she'd extracted from the gap between her cheeks and gums. It was gross, but a useful hiding spot that she learned by watching a muggle movie about diamond smugglers. Although Ginny's wand was somewhat incompatible with her own magic, Hermione finally managed to magically push and maneuver around the spell on the door.
With a quiet click, the door unlocked. She slowly turned the knob and peaked outside. With a flick of her finger, she cast a homenum revelio spell. No one other than her and Lily. Was it possible she was too late? How much time had passed? She felt dread squeeze her heart. If that bastard wasn't here, then he was out hunting her family.
…
Ron raced down to the windowsill where James was standing. The curtains were drawn but he could still see out. They were special curtains, invented by George, through inspiration that had come from a one-way glass he's seen on some muggle crime show. Ron could clearly see 5 figures walking towards the cottage from a mile away.
James looked excited as if the approaching people were friends, or better, his parents, but Ron knew better. If they were friends, they would be hidden away in their own safehouses.
Ron watched the masked figures get closer with their dark billowing cloaks. He looked down at his ring, and though it didn't burn yet, he knew it would soon. Running was not usually the Gryffindor way, but just him with 3 vulnerable children against 5 strong were not odds he wished to fight.
He pulled James away from the window, "James, did you get the food?" he asked, but James didn't look away from the 5 ominous figures walking towards the cottage.
"James?" He asked again with no avail. Apparently, distracting a child away from the hopes his parents were finally here to pick him up and take him away from this confusing and scary day was not something Ron could do, even with the promise of candy.
"James." He said once more, this time his voice was firmer.
The look of his uncle's serious face made the hopeful smile on James's face disappear. "Those people aren't Mum and Dad, are they?" his teary voice broke through the 10-year-old's trembling lips. "What's happening?
Ron put both hands firmly on James's shoulders and forced him to look at him in the eyes. "James, I'm sure your parents would be here if they could. I promise you that. I swear on it, I swear in the name of… the Chudley Cannons."
"The Chudley Cannons?" James asked, knowing how genuine the promise must be if his uncle was swearing in the name of his favorite Quidditch team.
"That's right, bud. But your parents can't be here right now, and there isn't time to explain everything. Alright?" Ron ushered the boy away from the window and into the kitchen where he found Rose sorting through an impressively diverse pile of food the children gathered. There were also fruits, vegetables, bread, cheese, milk, lots of canned goods, and even baby food for Hugo.
"Thank Merlin you have your mom's brain." He praised as he kissed his daughter on the crown of her head. "We're leaving, any second now, so I need you to put all the food you found into this bag."
"I found more food than Rose, but Rose said it was unfair because I was taller, so I could reach things in the top self." James claimed.
Despite the teary eyes James still wore and his pouting lips, he stood next to Rose and held his daughter's hand. Ron smiled in pure awe of a child's resilience. Perhaps this was why he and his friends had won the war back in 1998. The resilience of the young was not something to be underestimated.
"I have no doubt that she said that," Ron ruffled James's hair. "But you'll be a good boy and share with her when the time comes right?"
"Yeah, because I'm the oldest." James subsided.
Ron gave his godson/nephew a pat on his head and pulled him into a hug. He pulled back when he felt his ring warm up, causing his eyes trailed back to the approaching silhouettes. He readjusted the shawl around his chest that kept his son secured to his back and took both the kids' hands.
"Guys, we're going to get portkeyed again, ready?"
Rose frowned. "Daddy, who are we running from? Is it those people James found outside?"
"When had she grown so much?" He thought to himself, he could remember when she was just born. He remembered feeling so scared that he threw up on the way to St. Mungo's. When he first held her, he was able to hold her entire body in just two hands. "You're right Rosie Posie. Those are bad people."
There was no way that Rose knew the real severity of the situation by those simple words, but she straightened up and looked at her father. "Okay." While Ron didn't like the serious look on his child's face, but he didn't have time to worry as his wedding ring grew so hot he was sure it was going to burn him. He squeezed the children's hands.
They disappeared from the cottage in an instant.
Even before his two feet properly landed on the floor of wherever Hermione sent them Ron knew something went wrong.
James was gone.
"Ahh! James?!" he yelled in panic, causing Rose to jump and wake his son from the magically induced slumber.
"WAHHHHHHHH!" the toddler started to wail. He didn't have time to care for Hugo just in that second, because James wasn't here. Something went wrong during transporting from Shell Cottage to this location. Never in his life had a portkey trip been so long. Just when it felt like they were going to land, his ring would burn again taking them to another place. Was this to confuse the Death Eaters or… maybe their original destinations were compromised.
Ron looked up to his surroundings to notice that they were in a plain room. There were a few hammocks hanging from pillars, and mountains of unperishable food stored away in the corner with water and other necessities. Where ever the room was, the walls were black, as if it had been scorched, but it seemed like someone had taken the time to clean the ashes and dust away to ensure it was a suitable environment to survive in.
He untied his son from his back and looked at Rose who also seemed to have noticed her missing cousin. "Dad, Ja—" Rose's voice was panic, but he interrupted her by handing her wailing brother to her.
"I know, I'll go get him sweetheart. I need you to take care of your brother for me. He's probably just hungry okay?"
"Mummy! Daddy, it's mummy!"
Ron's heart skipped a beat. He slowly turned around to see a bushy haired figure stepping out from behind a portrait of Ariana Dumbledore. Only after seeing the portrait, he realized that they were in the Room of Requirement, not that it really mattered now because the figure that stood there hugging his children, he could recognize that hair from anywhere and he let out a cry of relief.
"Hermione!" he ran towards her at full force. When their bodies met, they hugged fiercely for a long while. When they finally released, he finally got to look her properly.
"Blood!" He cried, jumping back. He grabbed his wife and patted down her body to find the site of injury.
"It's not mine." Her voice was rough, like she'd spent 12 hours at a screamo concert. Ron got a closer look at his wife to notice how pale she was. Her eyes were red and puffy with dark circles that were dark and intense, she looked haunted. He could see remaining tear streaks that had run down her face.
"Did what I think happened happen?" he asked, but if he was honest, he was scared to know. "Is… is Voldemort… is he…?" He trailed off, not willing to finish the sentence.
Hermione didn't answer, but that was enough for him to understand.
His heart clenched with fear as he looked down at his children who were squished between them.
"Hermione, stay here. I need to get James, something's happened. He didn't come here with us. Death Eaters are everywhere. And we've been bounced around from safe house to safe house. If he's not here, that means he's still at Shell Cottage. I need to hurry. I'll be back." When he tried to turn around, he felt a tug and his shirt stretching. He looked to find that it was Hermione gripping the hem of his shirt with white knuckles.
"Hermione, I need to go back to Shell Cottage. James is in danger. He's going to die." While his voice was low, it was urgent. He gently grabbed Hermione's wrist and tried to tug her hand off his shirt, but her grip just tightened.
"Hermione, what are you doing?"
"It's worse than just Voldemort coming back Ron. It's Harry. He's gone."
"What do you mean he's gone? Where would he…" Ron paused, realizing the meaning of his wife's words. He stumbled as his knees crumbled beneath him. "Harry's gone?"
Hermione solemnly nodded, "It's been inhabiting inside of him, growing and eating him from the inside for all these years. He's got all of Harry's memories."
"No…" Ron shook his head in disbelief. "What about Gin and the kids?"
"I'm sorry."
At the news, Ron didn't just stumble, he collapsed on the floor with a hard thud, tears now streaming down his face.
"I'm so sorry."
Ron placed his face into his hand and screamed his pain and grief out. He used his other hand to punch the hard floor until his knuckles bruised and bled. Hermione tried to shelter her children away from the sight of their father breaking down, but it was impossible.
"Mummy, what's wrong? What's happening? Why's daddy crying? Who's Voldemort? Where did Uncle Harry go? What happened to James?" Rose asked in rapid fire.
The name of Harry's eldest son, seemed to be a trigger word for Ron. He stood up from the floor and started marching to the portrait where Hermione had stepped out of.
"No! Ron!"
"No?" Ron asked bewildered. "What do you mean no? We need to save James! We need to help Harry's last child! He's our godson!"
"I…" Hermione looked up to the man she's loved since she was 13 years old. The tears blurred her vision, but she could tell he had aged. It wasn't like he had any significant wrinkles or white hair yet, but there was an obvious difference in appearance. She wanted to grow old, grey and wrinkly, and die peacefully surrounded by their children and grandchildren with this man. However, even if they somehow managed to survive this, by a miraculous stroke of luck, he would never forgive her for this. He would never look at her again.
"He can't come here."
There was a pause. Ron didn't seem to understand her vague answer. It wasn't because he was dumb, like people assumed. It was because Ron would never have even thought of such option.
"Ron, he can't come in here."
She could see the horror of comprehension overcome his entire body. He jerked away from her, ripping his shirt out of her grip, as if she was infected with a contagious deadly disease. His handsome face crumpled and his beautiful blue eyes darkened when he realized the truth.
She opened her mouth as if to say something, but what could she say that could possibly excuse herself? Even if she told him that each family member of his extensive family and their families, plus their friends and their families had over two dozen backup safe houses, he wouldn't understand. To Ron, it wouldn't matter if there were over 200 safe houses she'd prepared, the fact that there was one where James couldn't enter was unacceptable. What could she say that could make him possibly understand why she did what she did? Even if he were faced with the same suspicion and circumstance Ron would never exclude Ginny, James, Albus, and Lily Potter.
"No. No. NO. NO! NOOO! PLEASE TELL ME I'M BEING AN IDIOT RIGHT NOW! YOU CAN'T HAVE!" Ron was quaking. It seemed impossible, no, inconceivable. Hermione would NEVER. That kind of choice was for the other side, not them, not Hermione.
"P-Please. Ron, Harry's…he's. I thought… because they're his…" Hermione was choking, it was like Ron was choking her with just the look of his eyes.
"I DON'T CARE! THEY'RE KIDS! OUR FAMILY!" His face bright red and eyes wide.
With the sounds of her parents fighting Rose holding her brother's hand walked over to her father. "Daddy, you're scaring mummy!" Rose tried to reprimand her father, but when she looked up at him and was shocked to find him crying. She looked over to her mom to see her weeping as well. Rose was approaching her mother to give her a hug when her father suddenly pulled her and her brother to his side.
"No Rose, she's a monster." He swiftly turned around and walked through the portrait hole with their children in tow. She could hear Rose calling her and Hugo crying as Ron dragged their children away.
"No! PLEASE! NOT THE KIDS, IT'S NOT SAFE! RON!" She cried after him, but he didn't even spare her a glance. She tried running after him, but something in her twisted painfully, knocking the wind out of her. It was official, her heart had shredded into pieces and was just too far gone now to salvage.
"She's a monster."
Rose and Hugo. Saving those two were enough reason for her to jump into Fiendfyre. Despite the pain inside her body and being blinded by her own tears, she stumbled to the portrait hole that her husband had left seconds ago.
"Save the rest of our family." Like a mantra, it pushed her forward.
At the other end, the portrait of Ariana Dumbledore was already open, but Aberforth was nowhere to be found. When she pushed through the door to the street of Hogsmeade she was greeted with a sight that she was trying to prevent this entire time.
"Ah, nice of you to join us Hermione."
Her children were held at wand point while Ron stood over the dead body of James Potter with his wand out and a blank look in his eyes.
Rose's eyes were closed tightly while she sobbed. Her pants were wet and there was a small puddle by her foot, but even in that moment, she was being a good older sister by covering her brother's eyes and holding him tightly with her small arms. Hugo looked like he was wailing, but no sound could be heard.
"Rosie, it's okay. Mummy's here." she said trying to be reassuring, but it was useless. She spared a raw glance at her dead godson's body, then whipped around to the source of all the calamity. "What more do you want?" her voice was surprisingly calm, but something deep inside her twisting and turning.
A disgusting smile creeped over his face. "I achieved everything I set out for, Hermione, but have you?" He gestured towards her two children. "Shouldn't you at least save them?"
"What do you want, Riddle?" Hermione growled, teeth clenched and shaking. The pain inside of her grew, twisting and turning violently like wild beast trying to get loose from its leash.
"Kill him." He gestured to her husband. "Kill the man who couldn't appreciate your genius. He's fighting the Imperius quite strongly right now, but we both know that he won't win. He will kill your precious children if you don't kill him."
"No."
"No? Why? Do you think I won't do it? Do you think that I'm somehow still emotionally connected to those little rugrats?" he was laughing.
Hermione didn't respond.
"You know everyone invited me in your intricately planned safe houses with such open arms. All I needed to do was carry Harry Potter's dead son in my arms and everyone opened their doors before we even entered the vicinity. For so many them, I wanted to savor the kills. But alas, I knew that I couldn't be late to the grand finale. You really should have set them up in houses and areas that you never even heard before. You're far too sentimental."
"You must really like the sound of your own voice."
He laughed. She wanted to rip the lips off that goddamn face.
"Join me, and I'll let them all go alive."
Hermione paused. It was honestly so ridiculous that it made her crack a smile, "You decimated my family and you think I'll join you?"
"No, it was clear from the choices that you made that these three were you favorites. Your true family."
The accusation made her stammer out a "no", but her heart skipped. It wasn't true, she loved everyone fiercely.
"No?" he asked in reply. Suddenly a green light flashed, and her son silent wailing stopped, and he crumbled to the floor, dead, in his sister's arms.
She couldn't breathe. It was too fast. There was no dramatic show down that would grant her a mere millisecond chance to save her beautiful son. Just like that, her baby was dead. At the tender age of 3, her baby boy was dead. Her soul was thundering with agony, but the world was completely silent with darkness, not even the crickets sang for her son's death.
"Hugo?" Rose asked, looking down at her younger brother, whose legs seemed to have crumbled beneath him. "Hugo?! Mum! There's something wrong with Hugo! Hugo! HUGO!"
"NOOOOOOOOOOO! Hugo! No…NOOOOO!" Hermione's scream was gut-wrenching, drowning out the screams of her daughter who gripped the falling body of her younger brother.
Something deep inside Hermione twisted so hard it felt like whatever it going to rip apart at any moment.
"No?" Voldemort asked again.
"No! I-I mean yes! Yes! I'll join you, please not Rose. Please, at least Rose. PLEASE!"
She was never religious, but now she knew with certainly that there was no good and kind God. However, she was sure of the existence of one biblical being. She walked towards the devil himself, ready to give up her soul for her last child. He put his right hand out requesting an unbreakable oath. She grabbed his hand, gripping it tightly. He pulled her close.
The thing inside her twisted painfully once more. Whatever it was, it was seconds away from snapping.
"It's really a shame," He caressed a strand of hair, stiff from Albus's blood. He leaned in towards her, whispering into her ear. "I do think you would've made a magnificent addition, but did you really think I was going to let you live?"
She felt blinding pain to her side. She looked down to see her husband insert a long dagger in between her ribs. He was trying to go for her heart.
Suddenly, it was like everything was going in slow motion. She pushed her husband away before he could push in further, but the momentum caused her to fall on the cobblestone street. From her position on the ground, she could see her daughter drop like a sack of potatoes by a casual Killing curse thrown by a Death Eater that was hiding around the street corner. Ron, still under the Imperius, slashed is own throat with the dagger that he used to stab her. His eyes turned clear from the physical pain, finally free from the Imperius. He gurgled, struggling to breath due to his own blood, but his eyes told Hermione that he knew everything he'd done under the spell. Instead of placing a hand over his own throat to stop the bleeding as much as possible, he fell to the ground and allowed himself to bleed out, dying right in front of her eyes.
The twisting and thrashing pain inside Hermione finally snapped; the wild beast had finally gotten free. Despite her vision turning hazy from her rate of blood loss, she'd never felt this much clarity in her mind. Or perhaps it wasn't so much clarity, but a one-track mind. Usually, her brain was filled with a million things whizzing by in speeds so fast that by the end of the day, she felt like she'd run a full marathon, but now? Now, there was only one thought. One plan. One desire.
Kill everyone.
The rapid blood loss or her overwhelming grief was somehow inconsequential. She had never had such control over her magic before. She could feel the wind swirling around her like she was in the center of a tornado, she could see magic being thrown at her direction, but none seemed to be able to reach her. Windows were shattering and people taking cover, but she heard nothing other than the thrum within her chest. She was sure that she was no longer even using Ginny's wand, but somehow, even as she was bleeding to death, she was throwing Avada Kedavras like they were Lumos. People dropped dead like flies all around her, but she didn't care who it hit. Maybe they were Death Eaters, maybe it was Voldemort, hell it could have been an innocent bystander, but who the fuck cared when everything was over? When everyone was dead?
Then everything went black.
…
When she opened her eyes, she found herself in a small cave. The ceiling was lined with beautiful jewels that seemed to leak magical power. The jewels had an opalescence about them. Beautiful violet and crystal blue light spewed out in different angles, illuminating the carvings drawn on the walls.
Cave of Wishes.
The cave was a thing of myth, mentioned in the oldest of books and briefly mention in the chronicles of Merlin. Finding information on the cave was a pet project of hers when her paranoia was at its peak state. After building over a year of rapport with the Department of Mysteries, she got the rare opportunity to research with their large reservoir of books and journals. But even after months of research, there was nothing. Convinced it didn't really exist, she gave up and made her safehouse plans.
At any other moment, she would have marvelled at the beauty, but now? Nothing.
She was in her dying seconds. With her right lung was collapsed where she'd been stabbed, her right leg was mangled from the boulder that had fallen on her probably when she arrived. She could see with very blurred vision her femur had pierced through her and was now sticking out of her (Chapter 1). She didn't understand how she got here or why, but she couldn't bring herself to care.
"Hello suffering one." An ominous voice spoke out. It sounded neither feminine or masculine, one nor many.
Hermione didn't even have the energy to respond, but the voice responded as if it heard her inner thoughts.
"We are the ancient ones, older than wizards like your silly founders and the famous Merlin himself. We are the dawn of magic, when magic was neither Dark or Light, but just so. We have seen a great many come to our last existing haven over the millennia but none with so little hope."
Hermione could do nothing but close her eyes, they were getting so heavy. It was tiring just to keep them open. She was going to die any second now, if the growing pool of her own blood wasn't a dead giveaway, pun intended. She ignored the mystical omniscient voice and welcomed death with open arms.
"Do you offer a sacrifice?" She heard faintly as her eyes fully closed.
"Take my life. I don't want it."
…
Before she even opened her eyes, the first thing Hermione realized was she felt no pain. With no boulder crushed leg and no stabbed lung, she was standing and breathing comfortably. The devastating sorrow she felt as she died was there, but distant and out of reach, leaving her in a dazed and blank state. She slowly peeled her eyes open to stare at her all-white surroundings, even the details she could make out in the background. Two towering bookshelves enclosed her from the side, filled to the brim with books of every kind was next to her.
"Was this the afterlife?" She thought to herself. She didn't expect it to be so… white? Hollywood appeared to have gotten something right, for once.
"Welcome Hermione." A voice startled her, but something about the voice was so soothing that it didn't make the war-conditioned witch fumble for her wand. Standing in front of her, seemingly appearing out of thin air, was a beautiful 20-something year old woman, smiling at her. It was a wonderfully warm and familiar smile. She had straight and long beautiful red hair that shined every time she moved. She had bangs that framed her heart shape face and lightly arched brows that framed a pair of green eyes that Hermione knew she would never forget even when she died.
She was the original Lily Potter. Lily Evans Potter.
"Come on, everyone's waiting." She linked her arms through hers like they had been long time friends.
"Everyone?" Hermione asked. Lily Potter smiled again, but slightly sadder this time. She guided her along the small paths in between the bookshelves. "Where are we, Li—Mrs. Potter?" Although Hermione was a good 12 years older than her, it didn't feel right calling your best friends' mother by her name on the first meeting.
The beautiful redhead laughed and didn't comment on Hermione's stumble. "Well, it's said the setting changes for everyone, sometimes it tries to replicate the place they felt the happiest, and for some it's the place that feels the safest, I even heard someone was taken to where they felt the most courageous." Lily Potter spun around, "But I think I know where this is, or at least where you want it to be." She said as she gestured to the bookshelves. "Good choice, I approve."
Hermione looked around to see if she sensed some familiarity to realize it really was somewhere where she had often felt the happiest; the Hogwarts Library.
"Come on, people are waiting." Mrs. Potter gently tugged her once more.
"People?" Hermione asked, but again Mrs. Potter didn't answer, she gestured her to her follow.
Mrs. Potter walked toward Hermione's secluded corner of the library where she would often be found researching and studying till the late hours as a student. Instead of the old wooden table that took up the spot, they entered a different area filled with people. Not just any people. Her family. Everyone was there, happy, healthy and smiling at her. No one was bleeding and dying, no one was Imperiused or tortured. Speechless; her eyes immediately filled with tears. Joy overfilled her and the pain and sadness from her last moments of life disappeared. The woman wasn't lying, everyone was there. Their faces had looks of understanding, apology and most importantly forgiveness. She even saw faces she hadn't seen in almost 16 years smiling at her.
There was a part of her that acknowledged the sad fact that if they were here, they'd died in the real world. She knew it was terribly sad, and normally, this information would have caused her immense pain, but here, in this world between life and death, sadness wasn't exactly tangible.
At the front of the line were the children waving excitedly to her. Her kids, George's kids, Bill's kids, Harry's kids…
"Wait where's Harry?"
Lily Potter approached her again, she opened her mouth to speak, but instead of Lily's bright voice, it was the voice she heard in the cave.
"Possessed and eaten souls do not arrive here."
"You will stay right?" It was Lily's normal voice again. "Don't worry, no one here is going to blame you or judge you, everyone chose to stay too."
"Stay?" Hermione asked, wondering why Lily made it sound like there was a second option. She glanced back and forth between Lily and the rest of her family, when it hit her.
She had a decision to make, just like everyone else here. Stay in the afterlife. Be with your family in eternal bliss and happiness, but know they are dead because she couldn't save them. Leave the rest of the world to ruin, all the while your best friend's soul will never be able to rest with his family, like he deserves.
Or; live. Suffer again, but maybe, just maybe, save everyone.
Hermione looked at everyone's faces once more. She couldn't hear what they were saying, but their body language looked like they were trying to beckon her to stay with them. Her daughter had her arms wide open, wanting a hug, while Hugo suckled his thumb and stared at her with those big beautiful eyes. Everyone was calling her over, except Ron. He smiled at her and hugged their children close to him. Gone were the eyes that called her monster, but the eyes that said "I do" on their wedding day.
"I'll keep them safe and happy" Ron was promising. He already knew what she was going to chose.
She glanced at the faces she failed the most; Harry's family. Ginny was carrying Lily, kissing her chubby cheeks. Albus was healthy and smiling, nudging his older brother who was ruffling his hair.
Ron was right, staying was never really a choice for her.
"Life. I choose life."