A/N: This story isn't finished, but I figured I left you all hanging long enough. :) This story was inspired by Kate Adamson, and Shimmer of an Angel greatly helped with her ideas. :) For people who haven't read my previous stories, things that appear in parentheses are the character's thoughts. Also, I'm not a medical expert in any way, shape or form (especially considering I nearly flunked Biology class). So there's probably not much here that's clinically accurate. One more thing; I have this concept that wizards have a magical immune system that works like the regular one does, except against magical maladies instead of regular ones.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Hello Hogsmeade
Harry, Hermione, Ron, Luna, and Ginny sat at a table in the Three Broomsticks. It was September, their first Hogsmeade weekend of their sixth year. Voldemort had few followers left, and they all felt sure that soon he would be defeated.
"Look at this," said Ginny, holding up the Daily Prophet. "Voldemort has a new follower that the Ministry has on their wanted list."
Harry took it from her. Since the number of his Death Eaters were declining, it was remarkable to hear of a new one. (He must be crazy, I wonder why he'd join Voldemort, especially in this stage of the game) The headline read: "Wanted: Michael Judge." Witnesses saw him using the Imperious curse, the Dark Mark showing openly on his arm. People who used to know him described him as "clinically insane."
"Let me see it," said Hermione. She read the article quietly for a minute, before folding it and giving it back to Ginny. "I'm sure they'll catch him soon, he doesn't seem to be too good at hiding."
"Hermione," said Ron, "Can you help me with my DADA homework? I don't want Snape to completely flunk me in the class."
"Of course, Ron," she said sympathetically. Snape had finally landed the job he'd wanted for years, much to their great disappointment.
Harry smiled to himself. DADA was his strongest class. Snape couldn't find reasons to flunk him, so instead he'd tried to give him detention for the slightest misbehavior. He already got detention once on the first day of class, when he'd expressed his horror at Snape being DADA teacher.
He wished that Remus Lupin could return to the post. Unfortunately, feelings were still quite hard against werewolves, so it was impossible. Lupin, meanwhile, lived at Number12, Grimmauld Place. The Order rarely met there now, since the Voldemort situation was under control. Kreacher had gone to house-elf prison, and Buckbeak died a month ago, so Lupin lived there all alone. "Let's go to the Shrieking Shack," said Harry suddenly.
"Great, let's go," agreed Hermione. The others followed them out the door. Summer still lingered pleasantly on the air as they silently made their way to the Shack.
"I have a feeling," said Luna quietly. "Like we're being watched."
Hermione frowned at her. Normally, she didn't take Luna seriously, but she couldn't help but agree. As they arrived near the Shack, she thought she could feel a sinister presence in the shadows of the trees.
"HARRY, DUCK!" shouted Ginny, her eyes as wide as dinner plates.
Harry crumpled to the ground instantly. Thanks to his quick reflex, a blast of green light missed him.
"Show yourself, coward!" shouted Hermione. She felt a scared sort of anger. She'd nearly lost Harry.
To their horror, none other than Michael Judge emerged from the shadows. He laughed maniacally. "Voldemort is going to reward me for this!" he gloated, pointing his wand at Hermione.
(There's five of us, and one of him. We can handle this) "STUPEFY!" shouted Ginny, Hermione, and Harry.
"Protego!" Michael returned, sending their stunning spells right back at them. Everyone ducked. "AVADA KEVADRA!"
A flash of green light hit Hermione in the head. She fell down and moved no more. Michael grinned. He'd never used the killing curse before. He hoped his magic was strong enough for it. Voldemort would be so pleased that he'd managed to kill Potter's mudblood friend.
There was a stunned silence for a moment, before it was broken. "YOU! YOU KILLED HERMIONE, I'LL KILL YOU! I'LL KILL YOU!" shouted Harry, his voice hoarse with pain. "CRUCIO!"
The curse caught Michael completely by surprise and knocked him to the ground. He didn't think that Harry had the guts to use an Unforgivable. As it was, even in this state, Harry did not have the requirements to do an Unforgivable properly, so it soon sizzled to nothing. Potter's wizard friends loomed over him, their eyes flashing dangerously. (I think it's time to apparate) decided Michael.
However, before he could, three stunning spells hit him. He didn't react in time, and was knocked out cold. Harry kicked him and turned to Hermione. "HERMIONE!" he wailed. "You can't be dead, you can't." Harry sobbed openly. "You just can't, you've always been there. Don't leave me."
Ron wasn't one to cry, but even his eyes filled with tears, soon joined by the others. "We need to get Dumbledore," said Luna reasonably. No one volunteered. "I'll go," she decided. She apparated as close as she could to Hogwarts, then ran to Dumbledore's office. Dumbledore rushed to the scene, along with McGonagall and Snape.
"Snape, McGonagall, take Judge to the Ministry so they can arrest him. I'll take Hermione to St. Mungo's."
"I'm coming," stated Harry firmly. It was not a request. He was coming too, no matter what.
Dumbledore recognized the look on Harry's face, and didn't object. His own eyes started to get misty. "All right. Ron may come too. Ginny, Luna, please return to Hogwarts."
Ginny and Luna sadly obeyed Dumbledore. "It'll be ok, Harry," said Ginny, knowing such words would be futile. Harry looked like his world was coming to an end. She walked with Luna on the path back to Hogwarts in a stunned daze. Hermione, dead? It just couldn't be.
Dumbledore conjured a portkey. He and Ron stood holding it (a Dobby sock which Dumbledore had pulled out of his pockets) while Harry scooped up Hermione's limp form. He placed Hermione's hand on the portkey, and he touched it with one of his own fingers. Dumbledore counted to ten. Harry felt the familiar hook behind his navel as they suddenly landed in the emergency room at St. Mungo's.
"Dr. Clint will be with y'all in a jiffy," announced a nurse, barely glancing at them, quickly moving on to another patient, whose face was bubbling uncontrollably.
Harry sat down, cradling Hermione. He picked up her wrist and felt for a pulse. For a moment, he thought he felt a flicker of one. His hopes died as he felt nothing after that. He buried his face into her chest, trying to hide his tears.
A few minutes later, he heard a voice. "Hello, I'm Dr. Clint. What is wrong with that young lady?"
Dumbledore turned to Ron expectantly. He hadn't been told exactly what had happened, so as Ron seemed to be the one who had it more together than Harry, he would tell. "She was hit with -" he paused a moment, cringing with pain. "a Killing Curse."
Dumbledore now understood why Harry appeared so devastated. (Why did Trelawny ever open her mouth? Why does it have to be Harry, all the time?)
Dr. Clint grew serious. "Is the perpetrator caught?"
"Yes, indeed. It was Michael Judge," Dumbledore said solemnly.
Dr. Clint gently picked Hermione up from Harry's lap. "I'll look her over. The curse doesn't always work, you know," he said, but they could tell he didn't think the prospects were promising. "Wait here. It shouldn't take long."
Dr. Clint strode to his examining room, his face grave. This wasn't the first time he'd looked over a person at the receiving end of that curse. It was the hardest part of his job to break the sad news of the death of the loved one to his or her friends and family. In this case, it could be especially unpleasant, since he'd have to break it to Harry Potter, a famous hero, that his girlfriend had died. (At least I think she probably is, with the way he was sobbing over her)
He screened her with his wand. She had, indeed, been hit with a Killing Curse. Only that would put up the resistance that pulsated from her. He checked for breathing and a pulse. She was alive, but barely. After further examination, he shouted for a nurse.
A nurse hurriedly strode up. "Yes, Dr. Clint?"
"Could you pull up Rupert Eastwood's file? I need to make a comparison."
"Oh dear, it's that bad, you think?" the nurse worried.
"I'm afraid so, their cases are quite similar," the doctor said. The nurse was back in a flash with his requested file.
"Hmmm, both hit with Avada Kevadra in the head, both in the same unresponsive states, both barely breathing, pulse hardly enough to count for." He paused. "She's as good as dead."
"Oh dear," repeated the nurse. "Would you like me to tell them?"
"I'll do it," Dr. Clint said grimly. "You take her upstairs." He headed back to where her three wizard friends were standing. They all looked rather glassy eyed, especially Harry Potter, who was twisting his hands in an agonizing fashion. Words failed Dr. Clint for a moment. This was going to be one of the most unpleasant things he'd ever done in his life. "I have bad news," he said slowly.
"Don't say it, just don't," moaned Harry. Ron stared at the doctor blankly.
Dumbledore turned to Harry, handing him a sock. "Here, this will take you back to my office. You too, Ron, if you wish. I'll be coming on the other sock after I have a little talk with Dr. Clint."
Harry and Ron grabbed the sock and vanished. "I'm sorry, you'll have to make this quick, I have many other patients to attend to," Dr. Clint said apologetically.
Dumbledore sensed that Dr. Clint really did mean for the best, but hadn't told them everything yet. He wished to know the final facts before leaving. "So Hermione Granger is officially dead?" he asked quietly.
"Not yet, Dumbledore. The fact is, she's in a state exactly like Rupert Eastwood, a patient we had here nearly twenty years ago. We tried our best to treat him. Nothing we could do revived him, and believe me, we tried everything for the next five years. The fact is, nothing can reverse a killing curse, as you know. One day, Rupert died. He wasn't much older than Hermione, either. There's no hope for her. We'll let her die, which should happen soon, maybe a week or so. Quite regrettable, but we're quite helpless to do anything else. I'll let you know, so you can make funeral arrangements. Now, I'm really sorry, but I have to go. Patients call." Dr. Clint gave one last apologetic look and left.
Dumbledore sat down and put his head in his hands for a moment. In a few minutes, he'd have to go back to his office and face a devastated Harry, who would undoubtedly be in a state similar to how he was after Sirius died. He'd probably get his office destroyed again, but that certainly was something he was willing to sacrifice. Harry needed the support of his friends to face Voldemort, and now he'd lost one of his very closest. Dumbledore picked up the sock, instantly appearing in his own office, where a very distraught Ron and Harry stood.
Dumbledore sat down. "Would one of you please tell me exactly what happened?"
Harry stood, obstinately silent, not looking at Dumbledore. Ron spoke up and told the story, haltingly and painfully. When he reached the part where Michael said the Killing Curse, he stopped and couldn't continue. Dumbledore nodded, satisfied.
"Why?"said Harry suddenly. "WHY?" He picked up a book and threw it across the room in a rage. Ron winced, while Dumbledore, who expected the place to be in ruins within minutes, didn't flinch. "WHY! We were just going for a STROLL. An innocent, everyday stroll like we always do!"
Harry blindly picked up an unlit candle and threw it. It crashed into a million pieces on the floor. Ron, who'd never seen Harry so angry, took a step back, alarmed. Dumbledore gave him a look to leave Harry alone for now.
"How can she leave, just like that? She's always been there for me. Just when I need her most, to help me face Voldemort, she's gone!" Harry roared. He threw more objects across the room.
Ron stared at the floor. Despite arguing with Hermione so much, he really did love her a lot, as a friend. He would really miss her. (Living with Harry isn't going to be easy now, I think. Not that it ever was.)
"What am I going to do without her?" Harry wailed, before running out of the room. Ron ran after him, wondering the same thing.
Preview of next chapter: Meanwhile, Remus Lupin stumbled into St. Mungo's, a sight indeed. Full moon had occurred the night before, and he was in for a checkup. It was routine, he already knew what to do about his cuts and bruises, but Dumbledore had insisted on it after every full moon. He hated coming here. They were none too friendly towards him, since he was a werewolf. He stood still, unnoticed, for a minute. He was about to approach the counter when he heard a nurse say a name he recognized.