Time to Let Go

Hermione lay back on her pillow, embracing the lavender-scented lace and cotton. Her book slipped from her hand, and fell softly and ungainly on to the carpeted floor. Hermione closed her tired eyes, her thoughts full of the upcoming Quidditch match. Would Harry win it for Gryffindor…?

Her mind slipped away, as the tiredness took over, and she felt herself slipping away, falling through chasms in the inky black sky. She plunged through the surface of an endless stretch off water, deep and fathomless in the night air. Her head broke the surface, and she went spinning through the depths, her night-dress clinging to her, soaking with water. The water had looked so cold, but it was as warm as a bath, and indeed did not feel like water at all, just warm, soft material blanketing her. Under the surface, she looked around, bubbles pouring from her half-open mouth. It was black as ravens, and her eyes stared unseeingly into the gloom. Her hair swished and swayed about her with the pull of the tide and the current on the apparently glassy-still waters, and without warning, she felt a grip on her shoulders. Someone or something was pulling her desperately quickly, and she shot out of the deep, into the cold night air. She couldn't move her head to see what was carrying her, she was moving so fast that the wind whipped into her mouth, and she found it hard to draw breath. She could see the stars appearing to come closer, and she craned her neck, staring at the celestial light she was rushing up to meet. The tiny pin-pricks turned to huge revolving orbs, and all too soon, it stopped.

Hermione rubbed her eyes, and took a step back. She gasped. She was in a room, surrounded by people. They were all sitting in silence, on chairs around the edges of the room. She did not recognise any of them, and she noticed that they all looked terribly sad. One of the men raised his eyes to meet hers, and gently tipped his hat in a half-hearted greeting. Hermione stared back, and simply nodded at him, as she did not trust herself to speak. She turned on the ball of her foot, and saw there was an empty chair sitting behind her. She sank into it, gratefully, rubbing her head in confusion. Where in the world was she?

One by one, the people in the room seemed to get fewer. She did not notice anyone leave, in fact, as she looked all around the room, she could not see a door for them to leave out of. It was as if they just melted away…

She stared at one woman, who was quietly crying in the corner of the room. She wanted to go and comfort her, but no-one else was saying a word. Where was she? Who were these people? Suddenly, the woman crying was gone. One moment she was there, the next… nothing. She had not faded, or fuzzed out of focus, just disappeared, no puffs of smoke, no magic tricks. Did she disaperate? Thought Hermione desperately, but she knew she was kidding herself, as the woman had not been holding a wand, and she hadn't said a word, let alone the correct charm. One by one, each and every person had left the room, leaving Hermione sitting on her own in bewilderment. She bit her lip, trying not to cry, wondering how she would ever get out.

A few minutes later, and Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin, as she was plunged into darkness once more. She fell to her knees on some hard ground, and found she had her eyes shut. She quickly opened them. She was standing on a train platform, in bright sunlight. The platform was not unlike Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, but it seemed much warmer and happier. The sky was a celestial blue, and she felt the sun-rays on her back, cloaking her in happiness. She felt all her worries and fears float away on a saffron cloud.

And suddenly, right there in front of her, stood Dumbledore. He was smiling kindly, and his eyes twinkled in the bright sunlight. Hermione noticed his face seemed much younger, and he was standing straighter… The look of pain she had noticed recently, was gone from his eyes.

"Why, hello, Hermione!" he said in a half-delighted voice.

"Professor Dumbledore!" Hermione breathed out, her voice sounding very much unlike her own. She started to ask where they were, but Dumbledore, almost telepathically, held up a hand.

"I don't have much time, Hermione," he said. "I have to say good-bye, you see. I'm needed elsewhere." With that, he held up a leather briefcase that he was holding purposefully in his left hand. "I want you to tell all the others to be strong, not to cry for me. You'll all be fine."

"But-" Hermione started.

"Please, Hermione," he said, gazing behind him, where a train was coming into view from around the corner.

"You, Hogwarts… Harry, none of you need me anymore. I'm going to a place where I can help, where I've been requested. I can't say no to that. I loved my time at Hogwarts." He lent forward, and hugged Hermione in a fatherly fashion. The train came to a stop beside them, and Dumbledore pulled off his glasses, and briefly polished them. Hermione got the feeling it was an action to cover up his feelings. Looking at the ground, her picked up his briefcase again, and pulled open the train door. Shutting it slowly behind him, he poked his head out of the open window.

"Send them all my love, Hermione," he said. His eyes welled for a second, but Hermione could see the happy smile of anticipation on his face. It was time to let go.

"I will do," she choked out, and waved and waved until her arm was aching, and the train rounded the corner, carrying Dumbledore out of sight. She looked the way the train had come. Blue sky stretched away as far as the eye could see. She turned back, and saw, in the direct the train had gone, a golden, rose pink sunrise. Embossed clouds lifted away, and she was silver dancing through in twists of dreams. Rainbows rejoiced, and the sun was overflowing with light.

A heavy something suddenly landed on her shoulder, and she twisted her head to see what it was. A red and gold bird was perched on her shoulder, deep black eyes looking at her beadily.

"Fawkes," she breathed, and before she had time to think, the Phoenix had gripped her shoulders, and was carrying her high over meadows and streams, beaches and forests. Hermione shut her eyes for a tiny second, and found she was falling through air. She felt herself land on something soft, and she sank into it gratefully…

*

The Great Hall was very subdued that morning. Many children were crying, and all of the teachers were white with shell-shocked expressions. Lessons had been cancelled for the day. Only Hermione was happy. She knew she might never see Dumbledore again, but the warmth of the place, and the promise of what Dumbledore was heading to, lingered on. Hermione did not cry. She pulled the red-gold feather from her pocket, the one she had found on her pillow that morning. She smiled widely.