So I'm finally all done with school. This last semester was crazy what with me taking six classes on top of working to get done. I'm so happy to have that over with. So on with the chapter.
"Only the dead have seen the end of war."― Plato
Do Not Go Gentle
Chapter 16
Hermione continued to feel nauseous the rest of the week after the attack on Hogsmeade. She could not keep down meals and sleeping was an impossibility. When she lay her head on the pillow she could smell the buildings burning, hears the screams of the students fleeing and see the bodies falling. Andrew Ryan crumbled to a heap in a flash of green light before her eyes and sometimes her imagination conjured up images of other fallen bodies, herself, Remus, Lily and James, even others who were not there. She would start awake in an instant, bile in her throat and heart racing madly, and would find herself reaching for her wand.
She was not alone in this state of mind. Everywhere students looked anxious and somber. Three students had been killed, in addition to numerous injured and each of those three students had come from one of three houses. A third year boy named Ian Harker from Gryffindor, a fourth year girl from Hufflepuff named Anna Thompson and of course Andrew Ryan from Ravenclaw. It did not miss anyone's attention that not a single Slytherin student had been harmed, that in fact, though a small number of younger years had been at Hogsmeade, very few Slytherin upper years had attended the last Hogsmeade weekend.
Naturally speculation flew around the school and Hermione was treated to a number of monologues about the evilness of Slytherin and how they all were in on it, even the first years, courtesy of Charles Belby, who would discuss it in a loud carrying voice to whoever would care to listen, which was admittedly not many people.
He was not alone though and by Monday many tempers were running high. An early curfew was issued for the students and no one was to wander the grounds after dinner, even though no Death Eaters had made it onto the school grounds during the attack. This was far from the only appeasement to be made. A number of angry complaints about the scarcity of security offered to the school were made by parents and many parents were threatening to withdraw their students if different measures weren't taken. A number of ministry officials, including junior Minister for Magic Millicent Bagnold and Head of Magical Law Enforcement Bartemius Crouch Sr. arrived first thing in the morning to discuss implementing said measures.
Hermione, once more unable to sleep, was already coming down to breakfast when they arrived and spotted them stepping into the Entrance Hall. Crouch looked younger and less lined then when she had seen him last in 1995, but he was still the tall, dark-haired, formidable wizard she had seen at the Quidditch Cup. Her eyes regarded him for a moment before turning to the junior minister.
Madame Bagnold was between thirty-five and forty, a tall square-jawed witch with her brown hair pulled into a severe bun and navy blue robes. She regarded Headmaster Dumbledore, who had come down to meet her with a cordial nod.
"Headmaster," she said curtly. "Minister Minchum sends his compliments but regrets to inform you that he is currently inspecting the current situation in Azkaban and humbly requests that you accept my services in his stead alongside Mr. Crouch." She ended this speech with another formal nod.
"Of course," Dumbledore offered genially, making her a small bow in return. "You are of course most welcome Madame Bagnold and Mr. Crouch." He turned to regard the severe looking wizard with another bow. Even from her spot across the hall Hermione could see that underneath all of his personable attitude the headmaster looked far more solemn than was his usual way and she felt a great deal of pity when she considered how hard this must all be on him.
"If we could do this somewhere in private, there are many matters we wish to discuss," Crouch said sharply. He was holding several long scrolls of parchment that he indicated as he spoke. The three turned and headed out of the hall and up a long flight of stairs, no doubt to have their discussion in the headmaster's office, far away from the prying eyes and ears of Hogwarts students.
Unable to find any reason to still be in the hall Hermione headed to the Great Hall. Very few students were already in there but there were a handful of early bird risers amongst the house tables. Far more crowded was the professors table at the far end of the hall. She could see Professor McGonagall was already there with a cup of tea and a newspaper, while beside her Professor's Sprout and Flitwick spoke quietly together. Madame Marchbanks was also there, along with Slughorn and Hagrid, who looked no worse for wear concerning his heroics in the battle on Saturday. Hermione felt a rush of fondness for the groundskeeper when she thought back to how brave he was and how he was the very first to enter the fray.
Hermione settled at the Ravenclaw table a few seats down from a few second and third years. Unable to bring herself to eat she merely poured herself a drink and sat there in silence. It was not to be, however, as she could soon feel eyes on her. She looked up to see the Ravenclaw's from down the table look away quickly, their faces turning back to their untouched plates. Hermione frowned. She had been wandering around in a daze for most of the past day but she was certain that this was not the first time she had been the subject of intense scrutiny over the weekend, though what any of the students found interesting about her under the circumstances she could not say.
It had not been until Sunday morning that she and Remus had been released from the infirmary and Hermione had spent most of her time in Ravenclaw Tower afterwards but there was no denying the stares that she had received and the way people would go quiet when she approached. It was all very wearying and made her think back on Harry's dislike of the attention he had received with a great deal of understanding sympathy.
Again she found eyes on her, both at the Ravenclaw table and now from the Hufflepuff one next to hers. It was not helping her nerves any to have them watching her and no matter how sly they all thought they was being, she could tell they were watching her. It wasn't long before Hermione, who already had no interest in eating, found herself getting up and leaving them behind in the Great Hall to talk of her to their hearts content.
The rest of the day seemed to be made up of more of the same. The students talked about her and stared at her and Hermione tried grimly to pretend she didn't notice them. "It's all complimentary," Pandora assured her as a group of students filing out of Flitwick's class turned to look at her as they lined up for Charms later that morning. "They know that you fought in Hogsmeade and that you saved several students lives. Lily Evans and James Potter are getting a lot of stares too."
Hermione, turning to regard the pair in question found that they were standing rather close together, looking unusually somber. From his place by Sirius's side, Remus gave her a warm smile that she only halfheartedly returned. They entered class then and settled at their desks and waited for Professor Flitwick to begin the lecture.
Hermione tried to concentrate but she felt exhausted from all of the sleep she had missed and the fact that she had eaten no breakfast made it all the worse. She was hardly alone in her state of mind. Most of the students seemed tired and unhappy and as a result there was far less talking than was usual in the Charms classroom. Even tiny, cheerful Professor Flitwick was looking dejected as he put the lesson plan up on the board. Eventually after it became clear just how little effort was going into the lesson he dismissed them all early.
Hermione, not wanting to see any more students, took advantage of the extra time to head back to Ravenclaw Tower. She passed a small group of extremely solemn looking seventh years sitting around the common room, trying to comfort a teary-eyed Trixie Carter and made her way to her dormitory where she settled under the blue and bronze canopy and closed her eyes.
It was warm where she was, as warm as when she had been sick before Christmas break and she could not escape it. The fire bloomed in front of her, engulfing shop-fronts and enflaming the students standing nearby. Out of the roaring fire came jets of green light which struck down whoever tried to run away. She saw with horror as Harry and Ron were struck down, then her parents, Ginny, Neville, Remus…her friends from Ravenclaw…all to the backdrop of a crackling, ravenous fire.
Hermione wanted to move to help but she couldn't, she could only cry out in horror as she saw the destruction unfold. "Please," she cried in desperation. "Oh please…make it stop…make it…"
"Rose!"
It was too late. She was surrounded now not with fire and crumbling buildings but with bodies, Harry's, Ron's, her's and it was all too late…
"Rose, come on please wake up!"
She started up from her bed, her face streaked with tears, her hand automatically reaching for her wand. She tried to jerk away from the pale hand that grabbed her wand arm. "Don't touch me!"
"Rose, it's alright. It's Pandora!"
Hermione blinked up through wet eyes at the blonde witch leaning over her bed. Pandora, realizing that Hermione was not about to hex her, smiled sheepishly and let go of her arm. "I'm sorry Rose but you were having a nightmare."
"A nightmare," Hermione said hoarsely. She sat up in bed, her ruffled covers falling off the bed as she did so. "A nightmare. Pandora what time is it?"
"It's a little after one," Pandora told her gently.
"After one!" Hermione shrieked. "I've missed Arithmancy and am late for Potions, I have to get going…"
"No you don't," Pandora said firmly as Hermione jumped out of bed. "Slughorn cancelled his class. He is not the only professor. Most are either cancelling or letting students out early. No one is paying any attention and a number of students have left class crying."
Hermione's heart sunk within her as she settled back down on her bed. "I will still have to make up the work in Arithmancy."
"I'm sure Gosling will understand," Pandora replied as she sat down beside Hermione. They sat together in silence for several minutes, not speaking. Hermione felt herself growing more weary by the moment. Then she stood up again. "I have to go to talk to Professor Gosling," she told Pandora. Before the other witch could protest, Hermione had snatched up her wand and bag and left the dormitory. The common room was thankfully empty of any of the seventh years that she had seen earlier. Hermione had a hard time looking at Trixie without feeling like crying herself.
Professor Gosling turned out to be every bit as understanding as Pandora had guessed she would be. She looked almost pitying as she told Hermione what homework was expected for the next class and walked her to her office door. Hermione didn't want pity or stares. She just wanted this day to be over.
It was to her great disgust that as she headed back to Ravenclaw Tower she saw Avery and Mulciber laughing as they heading up from the Slytherin common room. She distinctly heard the words "mudbloods," pass Mulciber's lips as the two headed past her and it was with great restraint that she kept herself from pulling out her wand and following them. It seemed to be years ago that she had hexed Regulus Black over his use of the horrible word and centuries ago since she had first heard the word pass Draco Malfoy's lips out on the Quidditch pitch. The ranting of Belby flew unbidden to her mind as she thought over how few Slytherin's were in Hogsmeade that day, especially among the upper years. Had they really known what would happen that day?
Hermione tried to eat that night but she had difficulty swallowing. After a few bites of chicken and a roll she gave it up as a bad job and left the hall, not noticing the concerned looks Pandora was throwing her way. As she passed the Slytherin table she could see Evan Rosier and Barty Crouch Jr. were speaking in carrying voices about how nice the weather had been that weekend. Regulus Black, seated not too far away, appeared engrossed in his textbook and was giving them no mind. Hermione, who thought that overall the whole table looked a little too cheerful and animated considering the past tragedy, left the hall in a rage.
She spent the rest of the day trying to catch up on Arithmancy homework and then was treated to another terrible night filled with green light and screaming people. Tuesday was no better and she found that it was a double-edged sword between wanting sleep that caused her nightmares and wanting to stay awake and feel tired. There was no middle ground and she was not sure how much longer this could go on before she collapsed.
It was on Wednesday that she next stepped in the library, which for her could almost be a record. By that point Hermione was hoping that the students would have calmed down enough that she would be able to sit and study for her exams without hearing whispers and feeling stares. To her pleasure the library was almost empty of students. Unfortunately, Regulus Black was to be found sitting at his usual table, schoolbooks spread out in front of him and a look of deep contemplation on his face.
"I would rather you didn't sit here as I have to study and you've developed a bit of a fanclub," he drawled as Hermione settled into a seat across from him.
"That's too bad," she replied as she placed her bag down on the table. She was in a very sour mood. A half-week of bad sleep and little to eat had taken its toll on her. Her eyes had dark circles under them and her face was pale and haggard.
He glared at her. "You might as well leave. I doubt you're going to get much studying done."
Hermione's eyes narrowed as she regarded him coldly. "And why is that Black?"
"Because you look like death," was his reply. "Why don't you do yourself a favor and get some sleep?"
As he said this images of a burning Hogsmeade entered Hermione's mind. She felt anger at the attack that had happened, anger that students had died, and suddenly before she could help herself a horrible thought that had been circling through her head all week came bursting out.
"Did you know about the attack beforehand, Black?"
He stared at her coolly for a moment before answering in a low voice. "No."
Hermione hardly dared believe him. She could only remember the laughing Mulciber and Avery and the jovial Crouch Jr. and Rosier. As though he could read her thoughts, he continued:
"Naturally being a Slytherin I'm at the forefront of every evil action that occurs." His voice was like ice.
"I never said that," Hermione replied. "But you are not going to tell me that some of your housemates haven't been acting just a little too merry considering three students are dead."
"What my housemates do is not my business," he said. "I spent most of that week, including the day of the attack in this library and you can ask her if you don't believe me," he said, gesturing to Madame Pince who was sitting at her desk.
A part of Hermione was still doubtful. She found, however, that although she would still bet anything that his friends knew of the attack, somehow the fact that he was saying he didn't was almost enough for her to fully believe him. And she wanted to believe him. For a moment she felt almost as if a weight had been lifted from her and then he spoke again and she saw red.
"It's not my problem," he told her. "I fail to see how their deaths can affect me in any way."
"They were students," Hermione cried. "They deserved better."
"I didn't know them." He was looking distinctly haughty as he said this and it made Hermione's blood boil to see it. "Maybe they did."
"Andrew Ryan did not deserve to die in the streets of Hogsmeade like he did. No one who died that day deserved what happened to them. They were just children, trying to enjoy their Saturday with their friends. They never hurt anyone and had no involvement in the war. They were just in the way. Lord Voldemort," She spat out the word like it was a disgusting disease and was momentarily pleased to see him flinch, "Wanted to hurt the wizarding population by harming their children, and proving how they can't be safe with the one wizard he fears above all others. This was an attack against Albus Dumbledore…and those teenagers paid the price." Her eyes were filled with an anguish that would have affected all but the most hardened of wizards as she sat there regarding him.
For a moment he was silent. "What would you have me say to you?" he asked her, his gray eyes looking into her own brown ones. "I wasn't there, I didn't see what happened."
"I saw," she whispered brokenly. They sat in silence for a moment, one questioning, the other miserable and he contemplated the bushy haired witch sitting by him. Hermione didn't know if anything she said had reached him, if he even had enough of a heart left after his upbringing and toxic friendships to reach but he sat with her and he did not turn away and he did not look as cold and haughty as before. She realized that she wanted him to care, with more intensity than she had ever wanted him to read a muggle book she recommended.
"What would have made you care?" she asked him quietly. "If you knew someone who died? If it had been a family member or friend instead? If it had been me? Or would you have rather that I had died after all the fighting we've done."
"I never said I wanted you to die," he said quietly. "I didn't wish for anyone's death." He was looking very uncomfortable as he regarded her.
"Voldemort does though," she whispered. "So do his followers. And I've got news for you Regulus Black. None of the students who were killed were muggleborns. Not one. That should show you that they don't care who they kill. You could be a pureblood and your life is still nothing to him."
He didn't argue with her for once. Hermione felt her eyes wet with tears that she didn't want to shed in front of him. She was just so tired, so frustrated at everything that had been happening in her life. How could she stay back here and watch it all? Was she expected to watch as Lily and James Potter died when Peter Pettigrew betrayed them? To watch as witches and wizards marched to their deaths in a destructive war all the while knowing that it would never be over, that twenty years from now they would be doing the very same thing, making the very same mistakes, suffering the very same unspeakable loses. Would she have to watch wizards like Regulus Black throw their lives away following a madman that would kill them in an instant?
'Don't become a Death Eater,' she wanted to say. Would it matter what she said to him or to any of them? She felt the overwhelming desire rise within her to try, to see if anything she had said that year had made a difference. Instead all she came out with was. "I think I'll try to get some sleep after all." She left him in silence at their table. Hermione couldn't fight with him that day. There was no victory in fighting, no pride in herself for being a supposed hero, just an soul-crushing despair.
So that was a happy chapter. So yeah Hermione had the stuffing knocked out of her during that battle and she is suffering some obvious bad aftereffects. She won't be down for long though. Nothing keeps our bookworm down for good. There will be a shift as I cover wartime into some of the feelings the characters experience, such as trauma from the battles and deaths. It wouldn't be realistic otherwise.
So the next chapter ends the school-year. I hope you're all excited.
