The night before the funeral, Hermione packed up all her things and made sure she had collected her movies from wherever they had made their way in the castle. Daphne and Padma sat side-by-side to keep her company as she prepared to leave.
"How have you guys been holding up?" Hermione asked. "Sorry for not checking in."
"It's okay," said Daphne.
"It just doesn't seem real," said Padma. "I mean… Marietta was our friend, wasn't she? She didn't deserve all the hate she got and then… People still aren't sure what happened. Last year it was that Bailey kid Cedric was always looking after, and now her? I can't help but fear who's next."
"I know," said Hermione. "She was hit by the Killing Curse. It was meant for me."
"Don't say that Nia."
"It was," Hermione insisted. "Our good friend knows I'm the biggest threat and wanted to take me out. Or, at least, he hopes to make Harry less of a threat with me not there to protect him."
"How's Char doing?" asked Daphne.
"We… we decided to keep our breakup," she said. "I don't think either of us are at a point emotionally to maintain a relationship."
Padma's expression told her that everyone in Ravenclaw heard the fight.
"I think that's fair," said Daphne. "Sorry to hear it though. Draco already tried to break up with Astoria out of some worthiness thing."
"How'd she take it?"
"She threw a shoe at his head and called him a putz." Daphne held out her hands in a sort of shrug. "I thought about going all angry big sister, but figured they'd work it out or they wouldn't."
"Would it make her feel better to know that I saved his life during that attack?"
Daphne and Padma sat up.
"Seriously?" Padma whispered. "But he's Old Blood. So that means he's under oath."
"That's right. Until he saves my life or he serves me for thirty years."
Daphne laughed. "Ooh, I would give anything for a time turner that would take me back to our second year so I could tell him that."
Hermione couldn't muster a smile. "I'm sure I'll need all the help I can get, contractual or not."
A soft knock came at the door.
"Come in," Daphne called.
Shaylyn Ramsey entered, her thick, curly hair hung loose, signaling that she had no intention of leaving the girls' dormitories.
"Hey, Nia," she said. "I wanted to check and see how you were feeling."
"I'm fine," she said. "Just packing. I was about to make my goodbye rounds. I plan on sneaking away after the funeral tomorrow."
Shaylyn nodded. "Hey, I've got a job lined up in the Ministry, so if you ever need, like, insider information or someone to pass along papers…" She took a deep breath. "Well, Snape never knew I was smuggling chocolate covered espresso beans under my hijab into his class for seven years. What I mean is… if it comes down to it, I want to be on your team."
"Thanks, Shaylyn. I'll let you know," said Hermione, crossing over to give her a hug and an IMN. "I'll keep in touch. Perhaps when I'm not having to look over my shoulder we can catch up at a café once in a while."
"I'd like that." Shaylyn smiled slightly. "I'm off to bed, but I'll see you at breakfast."
"Of course, goodnight."
Hermione turned back to packing her things until all that was out was her toothbrush, pajamas, and the outfit she intended to wear to the funeral. If it was just for Dumbledore, she would already be gone. This wasn't like faking her parents' deaths. She actually caused someone to get killed. Marietta wasn't hiding away with family or given a chance to start over with a better influence… she was dead and she wasn't coming back in any way, shape, or form. Her dreams were stolen from her. Hermione stole them from her.
"Nia? Are you okay?" asked Daphne.
"Mm. I think I'm going to go ask Madam Pomfrey for a Draught of Dreamless Sleep."
"Oh, yeah, sure. Good idea."
"I'll walk with you," said Padma. "I need to get back to my Common Room before curfew anyway."
"Alright."
They said absolutely nothing and that was fine by Hermione. She wasn't sure she could stand to answer questions or try to bring words of comfort or even take them for that matter. Madam Pomfrey readily gave Hermione a potion that would help her sleep. The hospital beds were filled with visitors who had been unable to get rooms at Hogsmeade. Mostly parents intending to bring their children home the second Dumbledore was in the ground.
Hermione wasn't sure where she would be by this time tomorrow.
~o0o~
Breakfast was a quiet affair. Students old and current sat crowded at their respective House tables and quietly ate or poked at the food served. Hermione had visited the house-elves early that morning to see how they were and they seemed more distressed about Marietta's death than Dumbledore's. Meenie explained that they were used to old Headmasters dying and were happy Dumbledore had lived his life long and well, but were sorrowful at Marietta dying so soon.
Hermione stirred a sludgy cereal around her bowl, using her hat to keep her face shielded from onlookers. She didn't want to answer questions at this time.
When the tables were filled, mourners gathered along the walls, almost having to stand in the unlit fireplaces for room while outside was prepared with chairs and flowers.
Someone new entered the hall and Hermione whipped her head around in anger. Amos Diggory wandered in with several people from his department. She hardly realized she stood up until she was right in front of him and slapping him across the face. The clap seemed to echo around the hall and all eyes were on them. He used to be such an imposing man and now she was nearly his height. Her hand itched for another slap, but she refrained.
He stood there, staring at her while his cheek turned red, then purple. There were plenty of words she would have liked to say to him, but she hoped her action said enough.
She hissed and shoved past him. He might have saved her life, but she would never forgive him for what he did to Cedric.
The funeral was being held where Bailey Todd had been buried. Rows and rows of chairs lined up in front of a slab of marble. Next to Bailey's headstone was something in tribute of Marietta. She would be buried back home, but here was a memorial so nobody would forget her. It was small, but pretty. A stone stand with a heart shape sitting on top. One half was solid stone which read:
Marietta Edgecombe
April 27th, 1979 - June 13th, 1997
A dear friend and loving daughter
The other half was opened up and windchimes twinkled in the small breeze, no doubt to remember her love for singing and the choir. Hermione never really noticed before how she was always humming, but certainly noticed its absence. She approached it and stared at the words.
"I am so sorry," she whispered. "I wish I could take it back."
The chimes twinkled in response. Hermione returned to the chairs to see the crowds heading towards the area. Most of the student body were in their uniforms while everyone else dressed in black or at least dark colors. She didn't sense danger and was surprised Hogwarts hadn't completely rejected her from their bond.
"I will never leave you," the small voice of Hogwarts whispered in her mind. Instead of comfort, it sounded more like a threat.
Gripping her skirt, she walked to the chairs and sat down on the end of the front row closest to the lake. She folded her hands in her lap and stared at a red ladybird crawling on a blade of grass. She was sure all of wizarding Britain would have shown up for the funeral if they could. As it was, they only seemed to have about a thousand of his closest friends.
"This seat taken, young lady?" a gruff voice asked.
Hermione glanced up to see Aberforth the barman. Swaddled in his arms was Brian, who gurgled happily. Though she'd rather he didn't, she gestured for him to take a seat. She had already said her goodbyes. She was gone the minute the pig corpse was lowered into the ground. It felt wrong. This grand show. This pomp and circumstance.
Brian reached for Aberforth's plaited beard, which he quickly tucked into his collar.
"Fool me once," he said, though his blue eyes twinkled with fondness.
"What a precious baby," said Hermione.
"Arr, he's my nephew. No one else to care for 'im and I got a couple decades left in me," said Aberforth. "Never had my own, but I'll make sure he's raised better than I was. His name's Brian."
She tried not to let Brian get a good look at her, certain he would scream and cry, recognizing her as a threat. He would never know who he was. The resemblance might be uncanny, but who would really notice? She was sure by the time he did, she would be dead in a ditch.
The seats soon filled up, the Aurors and Hitwizards lined up along the edges in the event of an attack. Tonks was closest, her normally vibrant hair a dark shade of brown and if her nose were a bit thinner, hair a bit curlier, and eyes slightly more hooded, she would've had an uncanny resemblance to her aunt. Cecilia was back in D.R. for the time being, so Tonks and Sirius were on guard duty.
The merfolk peered out of the water of the lake and a few people screamed as shadows moved in the trees. They stepped out and it was all the centaurs. An elder held out his hand and Firenze joined the herd, some reaching out to squeeze his hand and others pointedly looking away, yet giving him no grief for standing with them. Hermione wondered if he would stay on staff or go back to his herd.
When the crowds had mostly settled, sitting or standing, a single violinist played a mournful tune that echoed across the highlands. The Parting Glass. Fitting. Hagrid carried a shroud-wrapped body down the aisle, his hairy face red and his shoulders shaking with suppressed sobs. Hermione couldn't bear to watch, but made herself anyway. She listened to the sniffles and the sobs.
Hagrid placed the carcass on the marble table and patted it tenderly before turning away to go stand with Madame Maxime and a massive giant in a roughly hewn suit who could only be his half-brother Grawp. Hermione never had gone to meet him. Grawp pulled Hagrid into a crushing side-hug, while Madame Maxime squeezed his hand comfortingly.
The officiant rose to his feet and took his place in front of what he believed to be Dumbledore's body. He held a very long-winded speech in a feebly sort of voice about the man's achievements and nobility of spirit and his heart.
"My brother had them all fooled," Aberforth muttered with slight bitterness. Only Hermione could hear his words and she turned to him slightly. "What is the point of all this, if he never cared for his family? Should greatness not start at home?" He finally looked at her. "Great does not mean good, girlie."
"I know," she murmured. "But I think his intentions were there."
"I'm sure in the end they were." He scowled and turned his attention back to Brian. "Won't let you grow up scared of the world, boy. You have my word on that."
A low cry interrupted the officiant's words and Fawkes swooped down from the Headmaster's Tower. Hermione half expected the creature to attack her and peck her eyes out for her betrayal. Instead, it settled on the back of her chair and warbled a lilting tune as it fawned on Aberforth.
"There y'are Fawkes," said Aberforth, seeming to not care if he was being rude to the officiant. "You took good care of 'im for me. Now I got this young'un I need you to help me look after. 'Specially once he learns to walk."
"Fawkes is… yours?" said Hermione, slightly surprised.
"Ariana's," he said. "My sister. When she died, he tried to follow me, but I asked him to look after that damn fool brother of mine. Always getting into trouble. Needed a good healing every now and then. Fawkes understood and he did his best."
Hermione looked into the phoenix's beady eyes. He stared at her, then picked up a loc to flick it in the air before settling on Aberforth's chair.
"Ar, he likes you," said Aberforth. "You must have a strong spirit, girlie."
She said nothing and looked back to the officiant. He finally finished speaking and it seemed strange that he did all the talking. Would it not have been better to have people who knew him give anecdotes or speak on his life? What about Professor McGonagall? Or Sprout? Or Flitwick? Why not his best friend, if he had one? Or even ask Harry, whom everyone believed was like a grandfather to him, to speak? It seemed strange. Performative. Like they were all acting in a play.
When the little man in black sat down, the teachers all stepped forward and pointed their wands at the carcass. They lowered it into the ground and, as one, placed a marble slab over it; thus all evidence of what Hermione and Draco had done was sealed away. One by one they placed a flower on top of it, murmuring words meant to be between them and their colleague.
And that was that.
Hermione rose to her feet and wondered where to go when she saw the fluttering sprites of the imperius curse around former Minister Fudge's head. He made a beeline towards her and raised his wand, yelling out a curse that blasted her off her feet. Had she not been wearing her bracers, she was sure it could have killed her.
"Plan Zed!" she yelled at Tonks.
As Aurors rushed in, Hermione jumped to her feet and channeled Hogwarts' power through her. She ran forward, the faces around her warping and blurring into the colorful lights as she tessered. She brought no one with her. She knew Harry would keep his promise and take Crookshanks to his house. She wouldn't say where she was, just that she was safe.
If she was safe.
End of Year Six.
AN: I'll be moving my posting of chapters to every two or three weeks so as to try and avoid too long a hiatus while I finish the next section.
In the interim, I will be posting other, shorter stories.