Night 3
Hermione hoped that Harry couldn't tell that she was exhausted from the night before. She hadn't been able to have a good night's rest in ages, but this exhaustion was far too difficult for Hermione to handle. Being constantly forced to look happy all weekend long had tired her out, and not being able to sleep made it immensely harder.
Though Hermione was eternally thankful for Harry's gratitude, she didn't think that she could keep this act up much longer. One of those nightmares was bound to cause Hermione to wake up screaming in fear.
One more night, Hermione thought to herself, One more night and I wouldn't have to act anymore.
Maybe, just maybe this will be one of the dreamless nights.
As she tried re-reading the page of her book for the twelfth time in a row, Hermione could see Harry's emerald green eyes pop up from behind the book. "Hello, Harry," She said with a weak smile.
Hermione set the book down and looked up at the boy, who peered at her with worry. "Have you been sleeping well, Hermione? You look... more tired than usual."
Of course Harry noticed. How could he not? "I'm fine," Hermione replied, unable to look in Harry's eyes any longer.
"Hm," Harry said as he crossed his arms, continuing to examine Hermione. She could feel his green eyes piercing through her, causing Hermione to grow warm. "The bags in your eyes say otherwise. Is the bed too uncomfortable? I could switch out the covers if you like."
Hermione shook her head as she lowered her gaze. "No thanks, Harry. The bed is fine," Hermione reassured. Harry narrowed his eyes with suspicion. "I promise, I'm alright. You don't need to worry so much."
Hermione gave Harry a look, and he dropped it. "Alright, fine. I just... want you to be comfortable here."
Hermione glanced up at him again, her lips tugging into a grateful, genuine smile. "I am, Harry," She then laughed to herself, " I think you've done everything humanly possible to make me feel comfortable here."
Harry smiled in relief. "Good." He sighed satisfactorily and checked the time. "Speaking of sleep, I think I'm going to go to bed now." Harry looked back at her and smiled once more.
"Goodnight, Hermione," He said.
"Goodnight," She replied.
Then, Harry walked up the stairs, headed for his bedroom. Hermione would have followed in suit, but because of the dreams she's had, Hermione did not want to fall asleep.
Still, she didn't want Harry or Kreacher to realize that she was still awake. So, after wrapping up the chapter in the book she was reading, Hermione stood up and went into her room, sitting on the bed, forcing herself to stay awake once more.
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Hermione sat on the floor in the remnants of the Great Hall with her legs tucked to her chest, tears streaming down her face as she looked at all the people she had lost in battle. Lupin and Tonks lay down next to each other in the rubble peacefully, and Fred in the corner along with the Weasleys- who were all grieving his death. Lavender Brown as well, who was killed by the infamous Fenrir Greyback. All of them shared multiple things in common; They were pale. Unbreathing. Still like stone. Unable to move. And most of all, they were dead.
Hermione's heart felt as if it had been wrenched out of her chest as she sobbed quietly into her arms. All these good people- dead, because of a dangerous, feared, vicious monster who sought to tear the wizarding world apart. They sacrificed their lives to stop him, to save their home, and yet the heartless beast still lived.
It wasn't fair. All the people that died under the hands of Voldemort- all the lives taken, were now taken away. Those people were supposed to live longer, grow old, but now they are gone. And Hermione couldn't do anything to help them.
All she could do now was grieve and worry, cry and mourn. An hour, Voldemort said, an hour to take care of these deaths. To bury them with dignity, as the rotten monster had said. And when that hour finishes, the battle continues, and Voldemort will be among the enemy, murdering hundreds of more people.
Hermione glanced up from her arms and wiped the tears from her face. She had to stay strong. Stay alive. What more could she do? There were so many people who had passed, and Hermione couldn't be one of them. She had to stay alive. For them.
Hermione stood up and walked away from the Great Hall, hoping to find someplace quiet to get herself together. She started walking aimlessly through the halls, battered and bloody as she trudged up the stairs that moved on their own. They led Hermione to the Astronomy Tower, and she looked at the view with sad eyes.
Hermione inhaled greatly and gripped the metal railing, looking at the scenery before her. The sky was orange, and the rubble and destruction on the earth showed how powerful the enemy could be. Hermione closed her eyes as the tears dried on her face. For once after many months, she could hear nothing but silence. Not a single noise hung in the air, not even the sound of a bird chirping, nor the rustling of the wind. Just pure, utter silence. Hermione savoured every moment of it.
Once the feeling of fear and dread lessened, Hermione began to walk back to the Great Hall. The hour was almost up. She would have to be there when the war continued.
Suddenly, she saw Harry, his green eyes solemn and his jet black hair as disheveled as ever. He was walking out of the Headmaster's office, his hands clenched in tight fists.
"Harry?" Hermione called. The boy looked back and his eyes met hers. What she saw in his face made Hermione's heart break.
"Hermione," He said as he approached her. His voice cracked as he said her name. "How are you feeling?"
Hermione's eyes furrowed as she looked at Harry. After everything that has happened, why was he asking how she felt? "That's not important, Harry. What's important is-"
"It's important to me," Harry interrupted.
Hermione paused and blinked, wide eyed as she stared at Harry. He looked sorrowful and gloomy, and Hermione couldn't understand why he wanted to know how she was feeling when he looked so melancholy. Harry looked as if he had aged ten years in a matter of hours. Even so, his eyebrows were raised expectantly, waiting for Hermione to respond.
"I-" Hermione choked, trying to find something cheerful to say. Unfortunately, she found none. "To be honest, I feel terrible," she said, deciding to tell the truth.
Harry nodded gravely, his expression darkening. Suddenly the pain in Hermione's chest rose once more, and tears sprung from her eyes. Wordlessly, Harry engulfed her in his arms.
"All those people, Harry. All of them are gone. Because of him. He killed all of them."
Hermione hid her face and sobbed into Harry's chest. He said nothing, nor did nothing. He just held her tight, and let her cry. Hermione could feel his breathing, deep and shaking, as if he was trying not to cry.
Hermione pulled away from his arms, wiping her tears, and she saw that Harry's face was etched with pain. She realized that he had streaks of tears stained on his cheeks. His green eyes were sad and full of tears, his jaw set as he looked at Hermione dead in the eyes.
Hermione inhaled a shaky breath as she held Harry's face in her hands, her brows furrowed. She barely saw Harry cry, and it hit her like a ton of bricks.
Harry, still refusing to say a word, patted Hermione's hand lightly with his own. After he took in a shallow breath, he opened his lips to speak. "Hermione... if anything happens, just remember that I care about you. And I'm thankful, so thankful that you're my friend. You and Ron have made my life the best that I could ever live. I-"
"Don't," Hermione gasped, tears falling from her eyes, "Don't say that. Don't act like you're going to die. I-I'm not letting you go there to let him kill you. You have to stay here and fight."
Harry opened his mouth to speak, but he was interrupted by Hermione. "We've lost- I've lost so much already in this war. I can't lose you too."
Harry tried to speak again, but the look Hermione gave him caused him to stop whatever he was about to say. He squeezed Hermione's hand again and let go. "Alright," He whispered almost inaudibly. He averted his gaze from her, trying to hide the pain in his eyes.
Hermione nodded and kissed his head, trying to make sure he knew that she cared about him as well. If anything happened to her, if she ever died, hopefully Harry would know how deeply she cared about him.
"Come to the Great Hall with me then," Hermione said, "The war is about to continue soon."
Harry nodded slightly, his eyes still avoiding hers. "I just need to do something first."
Unease crept behind Hermione's neck as she gazed at Harry, but the warm hug that he gave her caused it to disappear. "I'll see you soon, okay?" He whispered into her ear.
Hermione nodded and returned the hug, squeezing him tightly. The both of them pulled away, and they parted with weary smiles.
Hermione headed for the Great Hall and sat down with the Weasleys, sending her condolences through comforting hugs and words of assurance. "He's gone," croaked Ron as tears slid from his red eyes, "He's really gone."
Hermione tried to ignore the pain in her chest as she saw George, wailing as he held the pale frame of Fred tightly in his arms. The brothers were so close, as if they were one person. Hermione couldn't imagine how it felt like to have a part of you taken away. After a while, she decided to leave the grieving family alone, and kept herself busy by tending to wounded soldiers.
As she looked after different injuries of wizards and witches, Hermione noticed that Harry was not in the Great Hall.
She looked around, searching for the boy, but he was nowhere to be found. It had been about twenty minutes since her last encounter with him; surely he had done whatever he had to do in those few minutes.
Then, panic seeped through her as she looked around alarmingly. With so many people in the Great Hall, Harry could be anywhere. That, or he wasn't there at all.
The thought terrified Hermione to a great extent. Harry couldn't possibly leave the castle and actually follow Voldemort's orders. It was unthinkable. To leave all of Hogwarts, to leave her-
Her heart quickened when she realized Harry had not been among the crowds of people. It began to thump manically against her chest as she looked everywhere, asking around if any of the wizards and witches had seen Harry. Her tone became more desperate, more urgent as tears welled in her eyes. He couldn't have. He couldn't have.
Suddenly, she could hear the booming sound of an army of marching feet coming from outside the castle. The Death Eaters were back, the battle had continued, and Harry was nowhere to be seen.
Hermione refused to believe the truth as she, along with the rest of Hogwarts rushed outside.
Hermione reached the courtyard, and the dust from broken stone entered her nostrils. She could feel Ron stand beside her, watching as the Death Eaters approached them in synchronized formation.
From afar, she could see Voldemort leading the Death Eaters with arms wide open. A large, tall human with the looks of Hagrid walked beside him, holding something in his arms. As they walked closer, Hermione could see more clearly that it really was Hagrid, and he was sobbing.
Sobbing, because the thing he held in his arms was Harry; limp, pale, and dead.
Somewhere in the distance, she could hear Ginny shrieking, asking who Hagrid was holding. She could hear the gasps and cries of witches and wizards who had recognized the figure of Harry. But Hermione didn't pay attention to them. She no longer cared. Harry was dead. He was dead.
Voldemort, the filthy beast himself raised his arms in triumph, his rotten teeth twisting into a sick, satisfied smile as he bellowed, "HARRY POTTER IS DEAD!"
Hermione collapsed to the ground, grief causing her legs to give out. "NO!" She wailed. The words pierced her heart like a jagged knife as large, hot tears streamed from her face. She let out a painful, wretched scream that wracked throughout her whole body. He was dead. There was no point in living anymore, no point in breathing. The air that filled her lungs didn't matter to her any longer. Nothing mattered. Nothing mattered now that Harry was dead.
Hermione let out gut-wrenching sobs that tore through her chest as Voldemort laughed in the distance. "HARRY!" She screamed, sobbing as her heart twisted painfully inside her chest.
She continued to sob in agony in a heap on the ground. This had been her fault. Harry was with her before he left for the Forest. He had been so obvious he was about to leave and Hermione had been too grief-stricken to notice. She could have stopped him from dying, should have forced him to come with her to the Great Hall, but she didn't. And now, he was dead.
Voldemort was laughing as if her cries were music to her ears. Hermione knew she should stop giving him what he wanted, but she couldn't. Harry was gone. He had died, and Hermione could have prevented it from happening. He lay limp in Hagrid's arms, unmoving, because he was dead. Harry Potter, her best friend since the beginning, was dead.
Hermione opened her mouth, gasping as she let out another ear piercing cry, screaming the name of the boy who died.
◆◆◆
"HARRY!" Hermione screamed, jolting awake.
Hot tears fell from her face as she looked around in a panic, her breathing labored. He was dead. Harry was dead and Hermione could do nothing about it.
Suddenly she heard footsteps running towards the door and it burst open, revealing a disheveled, alarmed, and alive Harry Potter. "What?!" He demanded as he looked around the room, wand in hand, "What happened? Who's there?"
He switched the lights on and his worried green eyes met hers, which was full of tears. Hermione looked at him as she clutched a blanket close to her chest. "Harry," She croaked.
She felt herself pull the covers off of her and float towards Harry, who stood with his wand in hand, confusion written all over his face. "What happened?" He asked softly in concern, but Hermione ignored the question. He was alright. He was alive. Hermione approached him and hugged him, melting into his arms. She put a hand against his chest to feel the rhythmic beat of his heart, and the air that filled his lungs as he calmly inhaled and exhaled. His warmth, the beating against his chest, and knowing that he was breathing had calmed Hermione down. He wasn't dead. He wasn't dead.
Hermione squeezed him tightly, fearing that if she let go, he would disappear. She felt him rub her back comfortingly. The nightmare of Harry's death had always caused Hermione to wake up in fear, screaming as she looked around in tears for Voldemort and Hagrid, who held Harry, dead in his arms. Hermione rarely had this nightmare, though on occasions where she had dreamt of it, it had brought out the worst feelings Hermione had ever felt. To see her best friend die at the hands of the enemy, it was the most horrible experience she had ever gone through.
Thank Merlin he lived that day.
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A/N:
YES.
So, as I mentioned this is a little different than what I usually do. It was separated into two chapters because it took so long to read all together; a whopping hour for a chapter! Did you like my little spin of Hermione's experience with Harry's death? I thought I'd put my little take on the 'Harry going to the forest' scene, where Hermione actually got to see him before he left. Hope you liked it!
I wanted to do these 'Nightmares' chapters because we all know that Harry always had these nightmares of Voldemort when he was a kid. But how about Hermione? She experienced so much during the war and went through a lot of trauma. She also received a lot of scars, including the 'Mudblood' scar, which was one of the biggest reasons why I wanted to do this.
Anyways, BYE LOVES!
-Em