SPOILER- please don't read if you don't want anything revealed about the 7th book.
Just a little ramble. In my story Harry does not survive in the forest. I know.. its very angsty. Forgive my depressing mood. Also, this is my first HP fanfic, so I may not be up to date on all the many rules and terms of the wizarding world.. feel free to correct me if I mess anything major up :]
She looks around her as her eyes take in the familiar surroundings. The colored banners hanging in the air, the decorations designated to the four houses hanging on the walls. But none of that seemed to matter now, the silly segregation and clustering of one group against the rest. Now it was broken up between only two sides; good or bad, sacrifice or betrayal, life or death. She sees the familiar tables pushed against the familiar walls, moved out of the way to make room for the crowd of people now inhabiting The Great Hall. She sees the familiar faces, faces that had always brought her comfort and ease, but now only left a gut wrenching feeling of dread. She exhales as her eyes fall again on Mrs. Weasley and the unnatural compulsions of her body as mother sobs over the death of son.
Swallowing hard, she wills herself to look away, but becomes captivated by the awful scene. She watches Mr. Weasely kneel to the ground slowly. She sees him attempt to pull his hysterical wife into a small embrace, a tiny gesture to ease the pain the two of them feel. But Molly Weasley will not budge, and Arthur has no more energy left to try any harder. He just takes her hand, and sobs quietly, because that is all that is left for him to do.
Hermione turns her head, trying desperately to free herself from this pain. But all around her she is surrounded by similar scenes of despair.
She hadn't realized that her body has gone numb until the pressure that was previously holding her left hand, squeezing it to maintain in control of his emotions, had let go.
'Ron-', Hermione begins, but she barely spoke loud enough, and even if she had she doubted he would answer. Ron bypassed his parents, family, and with a bow of his head, the cold body of Fred Weasley. He walked instead to the corpse of Remus Lupin, and slowly kneeled.
She sees her body move before she feels it. She follows Ron and is now kneeling next to him, she places a comforting hand on his back.
Ron's head jolts up with panic. 'Where's Harry?'
And she feels slightly ridiculous that she does not know the answer to this question. She feels embarrassed that for the first time in almost a year, she has forgotten about Harry.
Ron suddenly stood, and she knows that he is feeling the same rising panic that has begun to rush through her body. But Harry could take care of himself.. He wouldn't do anything stupid. She tries to convince herself that this is the truth, but with a long list of examples from Harry's risky past, she decides to block out that thought and instead joins Ron, who is quickly glancing around the room, searching for that face that would put his mind at ease. By looking at Ron's face, she knows he hasn't found it.
'Maybe, the cloak,' she starts. She knows that Ron is already thinking it. And the two of them begin to look around, even though they know they won't be able to see him.
And nobody notices them, nobody sees as they slip out of the room that's full of that terrible anguish, yet still holds the slightest sliver of hope and faith. Nobody is in the hallway to stop them from roaming the halls that are so familiar to them.
'Stop,' she says. And he does. And he looks at her for an explanation.
'If Harry was in The Great Hall, he was probably waiting for us to leave so he could follow us out.'
'Right,' and he nodded.
'So let's just wait a second.'
And they do. And he doesn't come.
'Where do you reckon he is?' And she thinks.
She knows that there are loads of places where he could be. An endless array of possibilities. And before she even knows where she is going, where she is leading Ron, her legs take off at top speed and she is running.
'Oi! Where are we going?'
She doesn't respond. Two minutes later they have reached the knocked over gargoyle guarding the entrance to the Headmaster's Suite.
'Has Harry been here?' she asks the gargoyle in a desperate attempt to locate her friend.
She anticipates his response, and his 'yes' confirms her prediction. She asks where he went, but once again knows his response ahead of time.
'Sorry. He didn't say.'
She exhales and looks at Ron who is still breathing heavily from their run.
And before she even realizes why, before she has any clue at the decision Harry Potter is currently making, she feels a fear. A fear that anticipates the death of a loved one. And she knows that the reason to fear, the reason behind her friend's disappearance, lie in that small tube where Harry kept the thoughts and memories of Severus Snape.
She asks the gargoyle to let them pass. To let them enter the private room that once belonged to the beloved Dumbledore, the man that they have trusted so blindly, and completely.
The gargoyle shrugs them off, knowing quite well that the whole school is in shambles and all boundaries are obsolete. And the two of them start up the stairs, but the air of urgency has left them. Instead a quiet dread has taken over, a dread that keeps them walking on eggshells, hoping for the best, but fearing reality.
She opens the door and see's the pensieve lying on the wooden floor at the end of the long room. Her heart skips a beat as she looks to Ron, who now wears the face of dreadful understanding. But what could he have seen? What was Snape hiding? Fear fills her body as she thinks of all the possible tricks that the memories could have held. Of the dangerous way they can captivate your mind and make you believe anything. How easy it would be for Voldemort to take advantage of Harry. But then she remembers that the memories could not be fake, they could not have been rigged or altered. That Snape's death was one of spontaneity.
Slowly they approach the tiny tube that held the memories of Severus Snape. Ron picks up the heavy pensieve, while Hermione studies the small container.
Sound has stopped. She only hears the sound of her beating heart and its quickening pace. Within the heavy basin was a silvery grey liquid. She looks up at Ron, and the two lock eyes. They both know what they need to do. Together they grasp hands, and dive into the depths of the silvery memories of Snape's past.
She feels the pull of earth and gravity leave. All she can see is a blinding light until her surroundings fall into place. She watches young Snape spy on young Petunia and an even younger Lily. She thinks about the few stories she's heard about Harry's aunt, and can't help but to feel a sense of aggravation toward the young child.
The images continue to flash before her and Ron's eyes. They witness the many scenes of bullying that Snape endured at the hands of James, Sirius, Lupin, and Pettigrew. She curses herself for actually pitying him, Dumbledore's murderer. As she looks at Ron, she sees the same emotions reflected in his gaze. They say nothing.
The memories continue, and with them her impatience grows. But in the confines of the pensieve, in the walls of Snape's memories, time seems to have disappeared. They go on.
The scene dissolves into the familiar hallway outside Gryffindor Tower. Ron and Hermione watch as Lily appears.
'I'm sorry.' They watch Snape beg Lily's forgiveness for calling her a Mudblood. Then Ron whispered to Hermione.
'I don't see how this is helping us. So Snape had a crush on his mum. Come on Hermione, it's a load of rubbish. We need to find Harry.' But she ignores his request to leave.
'Let's just wait a little longer.' This has to lead us to Harry. I don't know what else to do.
And finally.. They see Dumbledore. And then they see Snape. And the two discuss Lily, and finally, her son.
'Hide them all, then. Keep her - them - safe, please.'
'And what will you give me in return Severus?'
'In return? Anything.'
And then the story unfolds. Ron and Hermione watch as they learn of Snape's loyalty to Dumbledore, his protection of Harry, Dumbledore's acutely shortened lifespan.. And neither of them says a word. They hang on every minute, still trying desperately to understand where this will lead them, where Harry is.
They watch Dumbledore plan his own death with Snape. Watch as Dumbledore explains everything that never made any sense to them. And then, she hears it. And she can't breath.
'Part of Lord Voldemort lives inside Harry, and it is that which gives him the power of speech with snakes, and a connection with Lord Voldemort's mind that he has never understood. And while that fragment of soul, unmissed by Voldemort, remains attached to and protected by Harry, Lord Voldemort cannot die.'
'So the boy … the boy must die?'
'And Lord Voldemort must do it, Severus.'
'No.' she whispers it so low that only she can hear it. The rest of the images flashes by, the final pieces connecting and completing the puzzle that has captivated their minds for so long. Her mind races and she can't help but to feel betrayal. They were all pawns in some great plan. But before her mind could be carried away with these thoughts, she thinks of Harry.. He couldn't have..
She thinks that she needs to get out of this timeless place of memories. She thinks how she and Ron need to find Harry before he does anything that they can't undo. She thinks of their plan to kill Nagini, and how that has all been shattered to hell, but that they would come up with a new plan. That they would figure this all out, if only they could find Harry!
Her head keeps overflowing with thoughts.. And she doesn't see or hear anything around her, although she's sure that Ron is thinking the same thing. She knows that she has to think about all this factually, because if she allows her emotions to take control, then her mind will just shut down all together. So she tells herself that Harry is alive, and it will stay that way. That all their work running around destroying horcruxes was not for nothing…
And the world seemed to dissolve around her, until she realizes that she is laying on the wooden floor in Dumbledore's old office. Her hand is limply joined in Ron's, who is laying beside her. They sit up together, and all of a sudden she wishes that she never saw those memories, that she never heard the truth. And then she hated herself even more because of her realization that that was the truth.
Then something interrupts her thoughts. Since they had returned to the headmaster's office she has not heard one sound emanate from the walls of the burning and crumbling castle. Not one sob from the mourning, or a battle call from the fields. It was a deadly silence that stopped her mind and hurt her heart.
And then she heard it.
The earth shattering, heart wrenching scream of Professor McGonagall.
'NO!'
And her world exploded. She lost control of her mind, and panic ensued. McGonagall's scream willed her mind to accept the fate that she simply could not. More yells followed, people shouting his name, Harry's name, in horror. She looks to Ron for comfort, help, someone to tell her this is a dream. But no such thing is said.
And with nothing else to do, since all else has failed, she gives in to emotion. She reaches up to wipe away a tear, and she knows this is the end.