The Last Time
I’m going to do the last chapter in third person in respect to J.K. Rowling as that is how she does all her novels (apologies if it’s really bad because of this).
Wow longest yet....
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Seth rose to his feet, his eyes narrowed with fury and tears that blurred his gaze breaking up his view of the figure stood before him. Through his blurred eyes he could just pick out the faint details of the man before him, his sight tears restricting everything else; he could see the tall majestic figure, stood up straight and proudly, his wand out held. He seemed determined but stand-offish at the same time.
Taking a step forwards, Seth took a deep quivering breath that send a shock racing through him to his very core. He didn’t know what he was going to do but he knew what he wanted to do; he wanted to hurt this man, this man that had killed his long lost grandfather.
The feeling that gripped Seth was so overwhelming, so unbelievable that he felt himself being driven forwards by the pure force of it all.
The man glanced to his right and Seth followed his quick gaze to the right where he spotted two other figures pressed up against the wall. Hiding.
The Death Eaters beside Seth suddenly seemed to get riled up by the appearance of these two new people and he could hear the hisses that escaped their lips. The hisses of anger and disgust.
To say he didn’t understand the situation was a severed understatement.
Vigorously Seth rubbed his eyes, clearing the tears that had blossomed when he had seen his grandfather die before him. He was the Dark Lord now, he couldn’t afford to be weak; he had to live up to the name, he had to stand strong and defiant.
Draco took a step towards his son, his eyes washing over his pale-skinned appearance, more pale than normal, sicker than normal. His eyes looked dead, dead behind the watery sheen that had spread out over them, hiding them from Drake’s sight.
He took a step forwards and Seth’s head snapped before him; his eyes, the gaze that he fixed upon Drake, it was dead, dead and lifeless. The soul had been sucked from them as if his eyes, but only his eyes, had been kissed by a dementor; the worst curse possible to endure and Draco and Hermione had bestowed it upon their own son by taking away him who was important to him, no matter to how brief the time was.
Seth gripped his wand, raising it slightly towards the man towards him. He was the sight of an angel with his tumbling blonde looks, flawless pale skin and strong defined features; the only problem was his eyes, his empty eyes.
“Seth, please.” Hermione whispered.
Everything seemed to freeze at her voice and slowly, ever slowly, Seth turned on the spot, his attention moving from the man before him to that of the woman from which the voice of his mother had emerged.
For a few moments, Seth considered it to be a lie, a con, trickery to fool him into a false pretence so as to knock of his balance with the human world. He surveyed her carefully, his gaze never breaking off as he reached up and rubbed his eyes again.
Clearing his vision slightly, Seth looked again and this time he could pick out the long, bushy brown hair, her small delicate figure, and her worried tawny eyes.
He stepped forwards, more tears brimming as he ran towards her and she took him in her arms, holding onto him, comforting him like a good mother should as he cried his floods of tears of happiness and relief at being reunited with his family. Hermione rubbed his back comfortingly as she met eyes with Draco across the room; the look shared between them was that of satisfaction and determination. They were both glad that their soon was back with them and not the monster that they had thought he was going to turn into.
“Mummy.” Seth whispered under his voice as he cried into his shoulder.
A look of wonder crossed Hermione’s face as she gazed down at her child, it was a word that she had felt she would not hear again as long as she did. Her small children that she could cuddle and tuck into bed were long since gone, grown up and moved on to become bigger and better things but it was for moments like this, when everything seemed happy and perfect, it was for moments when Hermione felt everything was worth it.
She hugged him closer to her, as she collapsed down to the floor, pulling his crying, fragile body towards her as she rocked him gently in her arms. Randall stood over Hermione, surveying the scene with his usual, critical, gaze before he placed a soft hand onto her shoulder and, leaning precariously on his cane as he bent over, he brought his ear to hers.
“Prepare yourself Mrs Malfoy, this is far from over.” He warned her before straightening himself up back to his stance that requested full respect from all those that viewed him.
A flicker of emotion, fear, flicked across Hermione’s face, pain, and she grabbed Seth’s hand, fear, and rose slowly to her feet, determination, as she turned to face her enemies, loyalty, with dark eyes and a firm-set expression, hate. She was a woman of many emotions and all of those that were strongest today showed that of a woman of high upbringing, a woman that should be placed above all others for her sense of responsibility and care for others.
She pulled Seth behind her slowly as she got into line with Randall, her eyes once more meeting Draco’s across the room as she nodded to him showing him that she was okay, that she was ready.
The Death Eaters were yet to move since their newly-chosen leader had fled from their midst, returning to his beloved mother. It was as if they were all partaking in a conversation that could not be heard by anyone excluding themselves and, for a few moments, Hermione considered whether this was actually a possibility, she had never heard of anything like it to be used by humans but she could not deny that it would be an incredibly useful spell for those which do not want their thoughts to be heard; the Death Eaters.
There was a half-second pause and then they all moved as one, drawing their wands as if they were participating in a detailed dance routine requiring complete concentration. Their wands were raised in sync, their eyes never trembling, their gazes focused on those that were their enemies: Draco, Hermione, Randall, McGonagall and Seth.
A cry of alarm arose from Hermione’s throat as she threw her arm high, forming a shield between herself, Randall and Seth and she could only hope that Draco did the same despite not having the early warning that she had been presented with from Randall.
Speaking of Randall, she let her gaze flicker towards him for a few seconds, noticing how he was stood there with his eyes closed gently, his face void of emotion as he appeared to be concentration on something other than the situation at hand.
A sigh escaped her lips as she realised that she’d have to protect him in addition to retaining a watch over Seth and herself. Sliding closer, she regained her defensive manoeuvre before Randall so that she was protecting the three of them; the one thing on her mind was her son and how much he meant to her, what he had been through and how she wanted nothing more than to take him home and to help him to forget this all.
Seth cowered behind his Mother; the figures before him, that had once seemed so helpful and rewarding to Seth, now were intimidating and scared Seth more than he had ever been before.
From where Draco was stood at the far side of the room, he could not see Hermione through the smoke that had been created using a well-placed incendio spell. He was forced to back away from the Death Eaters, away from his wife and child, slowly as the smoke spread out threatening to swarm him to a point where he could barely see the cast spells until seconds before they appeared before him.
McGonagall was stood by his side, her own wand whirling through the air at the same speed as she fired off as many spells as she stopped. Her face was a mask of determination and will-power as she created barrier and barrier of protective shields, saving Draco’s own life as many times as he saved hers.
They were both pushed back towards the wall at the edge of the cage by the outwards flowing smoke and Drake became increasingly worried by the fact that he couldn’t see his wife and son, or hear them for that matter, and that made him nervous.
What if they had been injured and he had been this close but not noticed because of the smoke?
He felt a hand press lightly against his arm and he glanced at McGonagall who appeared to have noticed his distress without removing her gaze from the battle scene before her; it was moments like this that made Draco wonder why McGonagall was teaching at Hogwarts, she was an exceptionally accomplished witch and to remain teaching instead of being out there doing things like this but then she enjoyed teaching. She passed her tricks onto the younger generation and, therefore, bettered the rest of the wizarding world.
It was with this superior knowledge that McGonagall managed to calm the tyrant that was burning inside of Draco; it was with this knowledge that he was reminded that McGonagall had experience at this sort of thing; she would know what was happening a lot more than he would.
She would have told him if anything had happened.
With a new-found willpower, Draco battled onwards, his thoughts focused around those that he loved. He concentrated on the face of his wife, his beautiful wife that meant the world to him and that was trapped on the opposite side of the room protecting their defenceless child and probably as scared for him as he was for her; he concentrated on the faces of his children, their beautiful faces, so innocent but now corrupted by the misdoings that had been created by the Death Eaters, these Death Eaters; he thought of McGonagall and how despite being by far the oldest here, she did not give up and kept fighting until the end.
Sending a bombardo spell into the midst of it all, Draco took off towards the eye of the storm in search of his loved ones.
Hermione wiped the sweat away from her face with one hand, the other holding up her wand that was maintaining the pulsing blue shield that was weaved into the air before them. The spells that raced across the room towards them rebounded easily, disappearing back into the smoky veil that seemed to have sunk around the room.
She could only hope that none of them found their way into Draco’s path.
Dropping her hand back to her side, it was instantly reclaimed by Seth’s only clammy palms as he gripped hard onto her smooth palms the fear in his body evident from the grip that he resumed onto her delicate skin. She chanced a glance down at him, her resistance against hurting the Death Eaters breaking at the emotional look that was plastered like wallpaper against the wall that was his face. His emotions were clouded with a petrified look that she had never seen upon his face before, instantly making her want to hurt everyone and anyone that had harmed her son, both emotionally and physically.
Suddenly she spotted a body lying on the floor, as the smoke shifted, and, for a few moments, she saw all her resolve disappearing in that matter of seconds when she thought it was Drake. The man was lying there, his short blonde hair resembling so much to that of her husbands that she had believed completely that it was him. Then the build and clothing had been revealed by the withdrawing smoke and she could relax; it wasn’t him.
She felt a hand clamp onto her shoulder and her blood ran cold at the simple touch. She let out a scream, a cry of alarm, spinning around with her wand out-held before discovering who it was.
Randall was still stood behind her, moving now yet with his eyes still closed as he raised his fingers, pressing his forefinger to his lips before gently nudging her to one side and raising his hands in a combat like position.
Swiftly, he grabbed his cane in two hands, spinning it slightly as he unscrewed the end and drew a wand from the end, discarding the remainder of his cane to one side as he pointed his wand at the blooming cloud-like smoke.
Then he began to chant, his wand waving slowly backwards and forwards in a complicated movement as he traced a pattern into the air.
It was a spell unlike one that Hermione had before heard of and she instantly knew that it was an ancient spell, probably one from the time of the ancients, and so she watched in wonder as Randall preformed the unnamed spell.
Slowly, as if pieces of candyfloss being pulled from the original lump, the pieces of smoke disappeared, retreating or just disappearing on the spot and the remaining Death Eaters were quickly revealed, along with the bodies that littered the floor; despite being at an obvious disadvantage, Hermione, Draco and McGonagall all appeared to have gained an upper-hand on the situation despite the Death Eaters’ use of the enchanted smoke.
An angry cry rose up from the crowd of Death Eaters as they realised that their plan was being broken and they immediately began to panic; their form was broken and the strategic attack that had once stood a chance of winning was broken down into what can only be related to a more intense version of ‘every man for themselves’ as the Death Eaters broke from their ranks and all sprinted forwards aiming for different people.
Under different circumstances this may have had a different result for the Death Eaters, the sudden attack may have possibly overwhelmed their opponents and allowed the Death Eaters to resume their upper-hand but, in this case, the defenders kept a level-head and were able to work as a team to pick off Death Eater after Death Eater.
Much to the astonishment of Hermione, it was Randall that appeared to be ‘cutting down’ the majority of the Death Eaters; every flick of his wand was lethal as he eliminated man and woman after the other all the time with his eyes squeezed shut in concentration.
He never missed.
Awe was one of the only words that could describe Hermione’s feelings as Randall knocked Death Eater after Death Eater to the floor without so much as breaking a sweat; he made it appear easy, child’s play, as he broke them all with his smooth tactics that he replicated and carried out instantly and faultlessly.
All of a sudden the smoke stopped retreating and a cheer was sounded, the sign that there were still a large majority of Death Eaters hidden within the mist’s terrible grip, holding the fort as one would say.
Hermione let her eyes stray slowly around the room, searching for something that could help them claim victory.
Instantly she spotted Draco, stood on the opposite side of the cavern; his pale face appeared paler than usual, his eyes jumpy as he scanned around the room before coming to rest on Hermione.
She smiled at him softly, trying to pour all the feelings that she was feeling into that small sign of hope. He nodded at her, tilting his head at her slightly, a sign that he had received her message, that he understood.
It was one of those things that are a sign of a positive relationship; it was one of those things that showed just how close, how understanding two people could be.
Then they turned simultaneously, refocusing their attention on the situation at hand. Their eyes locked on the storm and, in one fluid movement, their wands were raised and aimed precisely on the dark figures that could just be distinguished from within the grey cloud that was clouded before them.
Seth looked between them, panicking, scared of the scene that was unfolding around them all. He let his gaze linger on his elders, his parents, his friends, his teacher and he felt worry. He felt guilt, he was the reason that that they were here, clearly outnumbered by the numerous Death Eaters lingering just on the other side of the smoky veil; the only thing separating Seth and the others from almost certain death was the Death Eater’s fear, everything had been carefully planned so that they wouldn’t have been hurt and, thus, they obviously had been expecting this strength to come in an attacking group.
Stepping back, the three of them moved together and Hermione and Draco formed a protective barrier, protecting Seth from the moving army of Death Eaters that were walking towards them continuously. The sneers on their faces were filled with vengeance and frustration.
Randall and McGonagall moved back also, joining in the line of people as they helped to protect Seth. Hermione found herself feeling so guilty for pulling the other two of them into this; it was because of her and Drake that they were both in here with them, trying to protect Seth from the Death Eaters that were threatening to harm them all.
She made a move forwards, preparing to place herself before them in defence but she was pushed back again my McGonagall’s out held hand.
“Don’t leave your children.” Was all that she muttered as she recreated the wall of defence that Hermione had tried to disband. McGonagall had lived a long life, she felt, and wanted to know that if she died, when she died, she didn’t want to die for some unnatural cause or old age, she wanted to die protecting someone.
Hermione and Draco were forced to watch as McGonagall strode forwards and they both agreed on a later date that they had never seen a more majestic figure. She was like a painting of power; a battle painting; used to show someone that was a born leader, someone that was loyal and trustworthy, someone that looks danger in the eyes and spits back in its face; all of these and more described McGonagall that day as she strode through the dim light of the cave prepared to show everyone what she was made of.
Her eyes were forwards set and her body straight and streamlined as she strode forwards to what may have been towards certain death for some people but for her a mostly fearful battle with a range of possible outcomes that were impossible to predict for certain.
McGonagall’s brown hair was resting earnestly on the back of her neck as she walked, her robes swishing continuously against the stone floor with each step she took; the Death Eaters leered and spat as she moved closer to them.
Despite this, she didn’t slow or turn and run, she raised her wand arm, her eyes a picture of terror and her mouth firmly set in a soft frown.
Hermione glanced at Drake who returned her gaze as their eyes met in unison. They both knew what the risk of doing what they were about to do was, but they also both knew that they couldn’t not do it. Turning on heel, Hermione dropped to the ground, kneeling in front of Seth as she pressed a kiss to his forehead. Drake moved swiftly, staking a claim on the spot directly behind Mione, protecting her from whatever threated to harm her and his son.
Hermione pressed her lips against Seth’s head, trying to pour all of her emotions into the single touch as she ran her fingers through his hair and grabbed his little hand in hers. She rocked back, the tears flowing freely now as she brought her eyes to the soft grey eyes of her son, of her husband.
“Seth I want you to promise me, whatever happens you won’t try that again.” She whispered whilst rubbing her hand across the eyes to try and remove the stray tears that threatened to fall. “You need to go now, go hide, and don’t come back out for whatever the reason until everyone’s gone. When you’ve done that, head back to Hogwarts, it’s not that far, and go and find Serena. She’s scared for you.” Hermione’s voice cracked slightly as she spoke and even though she tried not to show it, for fear of conveying the emotion to her son; she was scared, very much so, but she wasn’t going to give up.
This may be the last time that she ever sees Seth. It all depended on the outcome of this battle.
She squeeze her eyes shut for a second, trying to stop the tears from breaking free again when Seth let out a small whimper, his tiny arms wrapping around her neck as he threw his body at hers and held on for dear life.
“Don’t go mommy, don’t go.” He cried, sobbing loudly, and Hermione felt her heart breaking as he looked down at the trembling child and wished nothing more than to be able to sit there and comfort him for the rest of eternity, just promising him that everything was going to be okay and knowing that even if it wasn’t they’d be together; her angels would find each other and come together once more.
“I have to Seth-” Hermione said indignantly as she clutched his shaking body, lifting him up as she pulled him into a full on hug and just held him to her while they both cried floods of tears.
Eventually she was forced to pull away and she lowered him to the floor, ruffling his blond locks before she stood up slowly. Her eyes reached out to his for a second longer before she grabbed his shoulders and steered him around so he was facing the entrance to the tunnel at the far end of the cave.
“Go now, run like the wind and don’t look back.” She ordered him; reaching out, she gave him an encouraging push to get him on his way before she stepped back. Turning around she walked back over to Drake and took his hand, squeezing it softly as she looked up at him to see him smiling down at her.
This was it; this was their battle and they were going to do it together. They were going to win it together.
Just before they stepped forwards, moving to join McGonagall in the fight, Hermione glanced back over her shoulder to see that Seth was still stood there, gazing on in that confused, innocent way that he always appeared to. She sighed softly as she locked eyes with him, her eyes pleading with his for him to listen to her, for him to leave like he had been told instead of staying to watch something that could possibly scar him for the rest of his life.
For a matter of moments he just stood there, looking at her gravely as if he knew what she was doing and had guessed the worst possible outcome. In that moment Hermione saw that her son had grown up; he wasn’t her baby boy anymore, even though he could act like it at times, he had grown into a fine young gentleman that paid attention to the details and occasionally got things right where others did not.
She was proud of what he had become.
He smiled at her, weakly, supportively, before he turned and scurried away, his blonde hair bouncing like the fluff of a rabbit’s tail as he bounded away into the darkness of the cave and at last Hermione felt like she could concentrate on the fight and discard the worry and fear that she had felt for her son; he was safe now that he had gotten out, the Death Eaters would have to go through all four of them to get to him.
Hermione turned her attention back to the battle, her eyes wavering over the collection of about 50 remaining Death Eaters, over McGonagall who was stood looking on as she cast spell after attacking spell and then there was Randall who was slowly making his way back into the centre of the battle, taking a position alongside McGonagall as he raised his own wand.
They were all in this together, for better or for words, this was the final battle and this was their place to make their stand to deter the Death Eaters from ever resuming their stand for power again and to crush any hope that they may still possess after the loss of two leaders.
Walking forwards, Hermione and Draco joined McGonagall and Randall as they all stood tall, facing the Death Eaters void of fear, only concentration and determination aligning their faces.
This was for them.
This was for Tonks and Lupin, for their new born son that had been torn from his parents before he had even gotten a chance to get to know them.
This was for Mad-Eye Moody who had given up his life to fighting the dark arts and had returned despite the pain he had been forced to endure during Hermione’s fourth year. He had formulated the plan to get Harry out of the Dursley’s and without him they, probably, would not all be here.
This was for Dumbledore who had risked his life to save them all.
This was for Harry, the boy-who-lived, and Ron and even Hermione herself who had given up the majority of their life so far battling and defending themselves against the dark arts. Their younger years had been wasted on the battle and Hermione was determined not to let the same happen to her own children.
This was for them all, for everyone and anyone that had taken a stand against the darkness at their own personal risk because they deserved it.
It was McGonagall that moved first, her wand whipping through the air at lightning-fast speed as she struck down at least three Death Eaters with a single blow. It was awe-striking to watch McGonagall in fight; she had leopard-fast reflexes as she whisked her wand around in fine-tuned patterns, knocking down a man with every twist of her wand.
It was a well-practiced art to do what she was doing and she was executing it flawlessly, without fail, every single time.
Hermione locked eyes with Draco and they shared, what can only be called a loving look of goodbye just in case one of them didn’t make it out of this alive. They didn’t want to believe that this would be the last time they’d see each other but they also didn’t want to leave without saying good bye to each other properly.
After a final glance at each other, a final long-held glance in which they held each other’s view for the longest time possible before they directed their gazes back onto the battle at hand. By now McGonagall and Randall had been able to hit at least half of the men but the rest of them were throwing up a good defence against the rest of them.
Finally they both glanced away, instead staring straight back at the battle.
The Death Eaters drew back when they saw that all four of them were now focused on the battle, they appeared to be forming some sort of a battle plan in their ranks before spreading out to resume their previous stance.
McGonagall started them off once more, her smooth wand control wreaking havoc on the Death Eaters around them. She was instantly followed by Hermione, her own wand waving fluently as the Death Eaters fell like dominoes around them.
Draco and Randall met up behind them, bringing up the rear as Hermione and McGonagall took the position at the front of the group. They all defended themselves as they built up the walls of defences around them as they also put up a good offence.
Hermione took a step forwards, just as another Death Eater did and they found themselves face to face.
They moved slowly around each other creating a wide-bearing circle as they moved a few steps to their left before stopping and moving back again, neither of them daring to break the invisible line that was strung up between them indicating the cross between their attack and Hermione’s own.
She was the first to attack, swivelling her arm and her wand as she sent a body-binding curse swirling towards the Death Eater. He threw up his wards in the blink of an eye and the spell was rebounded towards the wall. A moment later he sent a rebound spell, a simple stupefy which she reflected back just as easily as he had reflected her last.
The battle continued; it was a gruelling battle between these two superior beings, both of them apparently well-achieved in the wandcraft that they had mastered.
There was the occasional slip up in the fight made by either side. Hermione’s spell knocked the hood off the man, revealing the face that belonged to that of a young 19-year-old boy. For a moment she was shocked and it was in that moment of delay when he struck her back, earning him a mark-up as he created a scar across her lower calf.
Draco made to move forwards, to protect her but she waved him away and resumed her position again.
She chewed on her lip slowly as she tried to ignore the thudding pain that was coming from her lower leg and, when she glanced down; she spotted the small trickle of darkness that was beginning to engulf the slash in her jeans from the splash outwards. It was like a tie-dye, the colour slowly changing as if it had been done purposely to create that effect.
The teenager smirked at her, his spotty cheeks crinkling slightly as he formed a wide-spread grin across his lips. Dimples appeared on either side of his mouth and Hermione stared at him in confusion, how could someone so young enjoy doing something like this? It was nothing less than disgusting to her.
She met his gaze for a second, confirming the fact that she wasn’t going to be backing down, she couldn’t even consider backing down without a sea of the feeling of an over-powering guilt submerging her beneath its swelling waves. After everything that had happened she wasn’t going to just let this slip by, this washer chance to show them what she really was made of. This was her chance to prove to them that she wasn’t as easy to break down as they may thing.
This was her chance.
They resumed their rigid pattern of circles and it was him this time that made his first move. He did it slowly, controllably, working hard as he used his brain in addition to his usual manoeuvres.
Hermione anticipated his attack but before she had time to respond, it was already to close. She leaped to one side in her desperate attempt to avoid the hit that seemed to be necessary at this point. What would have been a dire leap, one where she would have just escaped the hit with a near miss, was instead turned into that of a direct hit because of her injury. Her leg dragged behind her and she was forced to move at a slower rate than she was supposed to and it was this hit that was her downfall.
She stumbled backwards; collapsing to the ground and instantly threw up a shield to protect her from any more attacks. Convulsing her body, she crouched over herself as she examined the long cut that was tracing its way up the line of her calf muscles. She grimaced angrily at it, knowing that it was going to slow her down during the rest of the battle, and waved her wand, muttering the spell “Incarcerous” when she did. A long green vine emerged from the end of her wand and she used it, along with a scrap of a cloak from one of the Death Eaters around her, she formed a bandage of sorts which she instantly bound around her leg.
When she got to her feet, she saw the look of fear that appeared to cross the face of the teen before he resumed his tough exterior. She smirked at the thought of it; he was scared of her and what she had been able to do.
This was her battle and she is coming out on top.
The more times that she recited it in her head, the more likely it seemed that the small quote was going to come true.
She believes that it will come true.
She hopes that it will come true.
Stepping forwards she shifted lightly from step to step to examine her movements and how she far she could move in each direction before she prepared her offence again. She was ready.
The boy raised an eyebrow at her, mocking her every movement from when she had stood up until now. She stared at him in anger and anticipation as she waited for him to make the first movement again. This time she was ready because this time she knew her boundaries and she knew how to push them for her own personal use.
The trick to being good in battle is to know your own weaknesses as well as you know those of your enemies and it was this that Hermione was learning with every hit. She had learned that she couldn’t evade attacks as quick as she usually could but she had also discovered that despite having all this logic in her head, she really had failed in using it during battle.
This was the day when she would use all her strong attributes like her brain to work out what to do, tactics, and she would be able to defeat them, like she intended all along.
He raised his arm to her, preparing to strike but she moved faster as she sent another straight back at him before he even had a chance to fire his own. They resumed their fight again and it was death-like in the sense of emotions portrayed through it all but it was, at the same time, filled with emotion. The determination required was astounding as they both preformed the intricate dance of the duel once more.
It was then that Hermione spotted her opponents weakness and, just as she had worked out the flaw in her own, she worked out his flaws. He was slightly blind in his left eye, restricting his view and reaction time when attacking that side and that was how Hermione knew that she was going to beat him.
It was simple really now that she had worked out the flaws in his attack, she just had to aim for his left side, the side at which she was weakest and the rest would be like putty in her hands. Easy.
The plan worked flawlessly. Although it wasn’t formed quite to the perfection of McGonagall and Randall, Hermione still felt like she had outshone herself in both the execution and creation of her tactics which had helped her claim her victory.
Even though they weren’t cheering, Hermione could still feel the vast torrent of emotional support that was blossoming up from within her friends and family. It was with a final flick of her wand that the curse soared through his out-stretched arms, hitting him square in the chest and it was, like with Bellatrix and Mrs Weasley, that this curse killed him.
In many ways, this battle had been in many ways like their battle. Both Mrs Weasley and Hermione had been fighting for more than just themselves, for their proudness and self-respect, they had also been fighting for their loved ones and Hermione found herself respecting Mrs Weasley even more now that she knew what it had felt like to be in this same position.
She smiled weakly and stepped back into the line as the teenager tumbled forwards. The moment when his body thudded to the floor was like the bell at the beginning of a church ceremony, it was the sign of a beginning, in this case the beginning of the proper fight.
The spells were traded automatically, almost brutally across the small space in the cave, but it was a fairly even fight despite the pure amount of Death Eaters that were crowded on the far side. They fell slowly, like blossom from a tree, one after another as the spells struck them down and it was only when they were all gone and that they finally realised that they had done it.
They were all gone.
Every last one of them was dead or unconscious and they all took this as a chance to look around, to take in each other as they took deep breaths. Deep staggering breaths to calm their minds which were swirling in turmoil, not quite believing it was over.
Hermione made the first move once more, this time she stumbled across the room and dropped into Draco’s arms where he wrapped his arm around her comfortingly, holding her close to him as he pressed kisses along her neck before claiming her lips in a soft kiss just to tell her how worried he’d been. She kissed him back with a similar passion and their hands found each other’s, intertwining as they drew back and she rested her forehead against his.
She stepped away, keeping a hold on his hand as she turned back to where McGonagall and Randall were stood and they joined them both as they started the walk back to Hogwarts, back to their children and back to all the other people that loved them.
The walk should have been one filled with joy and happiness but instead it was tinged with a thought of sadness and depression. If you saw them you would imagine that they were a funeral brigade, making their way towards the tombstone and the graveyard rather than towards the people that mean so much to them. It was this troop of people that made their way back towards Hogwarts without the skip in their step.
The truth is they were all thinking about somewhere else, another time, and another memory. For Hermione she was thinking about her parents and whether they would have been proud of her had they been there now, she was their daughter, their witch, and she wanted nothing more than to make them happy, to bring them grandchildren before they were gone but she’d been unable to do that. She had put back the memories that she had taken away that day they had won the war last time because they hadn’t been happy. Promptly they moved back to Australia and she never saw them again.
Draco was thinking of his Mother and his Father. He had tried so hard to be the son that they had wanted and when he had, he had wanted nothing more than to break back out of it. Today he had killed his father and that was something no man, of any age, should have to do. At the time he hadn’t even thought about it, he had just struck down the man that had hurt his son, but now that he thought about it, he could have just stupefied him or just placed the full body-bind curse on him. He felt terrible now but he was more afraid of what his mother would think of him when she found out.
McGonagall and Randall did not talk as they walked, both caught up in their own thoughts, but the mask of emotions on their face were an enigma, impossible to decipher and that is probably for the best.
The walk took them about 10 minutes, 10 minutes of silence and thinking in which they appeared to be encased in a bubble, protecting them from any sounds from the outside world that threated to break through it.
It was only when they drew up outside the school, entering through the front gates and making their way up the main road towards the tall school building that was splayed out before them.; it was only when a little girl came sprinting down the road before them, her hair flying askew behind her as she flew down the path towards them; it was only when a young boy suddenly appeared alongside the little girl, his blonde hair so much like his Father’s glowing brightly in the heated rays of the sun; it was only then that they snapped from their thoughts and allowed smiles to spread on their lips.
They girl reached them first and she jumped, throwing her arms around her mother’s next as she let out a cry of happiness, real tears already flowing down her cheeks as she pressed a kiss to her mother’s cheeks and clung tightly onto her, never wanting to let her go again. Serena had been so scared; she had been trapped in the school, unable to leave, unable to know what was happening with the rest of her family or, indeed, where they may be. When her brother arrived she felt happiness at having him returned to his side but also a deeper fear because he had returned without their parents. The feeling that had overcame her when she had spotted them out of the window was un-describable by any words known to man; it was a bond of the strongest type and it was calling her to them, she felt like she needed them and she her heart had mended itself in her chest as she had wrapped her arms around her mother’s neck, feeling her soft skin, confirming that it was her and not a ghost-like form.
There was a scrabbled of pebbles and the boy scrambled up to them, throwing himself at the three of them as he wrapped his arms around his mother’s and father’s legs a like, the tears pricking his eye lids but tried not to let them fall, he felt like he couldn’t after all that had happened to him he felt like it was a too innocent, a too vulnerable thing to do.
The mother and father looked a vision of happiness as they clung to their children, the mother looking up to the heaven’s as she whispered her prayers of thanks, thanking whoever was up there for ensuring that they all survived.
As a group they cried, they cried tears of joy at being reunited once more.
As a group they talked, they shared their stories of all the events that had happened.
As a group they enjoyed the company of each other and realised just how much they’d hate it.
As a group they once more became the great family they had once been.
As a group.
As a family.
***
How was it?
If you liked this chapter, it would mean the world to me if you checked out my new fan fic - Dementor's Kiss.