En Memoriam

Chapter 16

"No one...can know..." Hermione quietly broke the long silence that had settled between her and Poppy. Her words completely dumbfounded the elder witch.

"What would you have me say?" Poppy's throat was tight, her words barely that of a whisper. Her eyes searched every corner of the young woman's face.

Hermione gently pushed the file Poppy had written into closed, her eyes sharp but glistening at the edges, "Tell them I was dehydrated...underfed... overworked..." She grimaced at her own words pulling the file closer. Her brows twitched as she tried desperately to come to the realization of her own mortality, "Tell them anything else...but this..." She raised the file looking straight into Poppy's eyes, "This stays between us."

Poppy clenched her jaw tight, there were so many things she wanted to say yet she found she didn't have the mind to say them, the shock of her words settling heavily on her heart. Instead, she took the file to her chest with a solemn nod.

Hermione turned away then, her eyes searching for something inside her mind the weight of the silence between them tensing her shoulders, "If...the blade was found and if...the curse was identified... would I live?"

"I..cannot say with certainty... though your chances would be greatly increased...however, without the counter curse there will always be a clock over your head." Poppy's whispered words filled the air, making it nearly impossible to breathe.

Hermione staggeringly moved to her chair, sitting down as gracefully as she could, her eyes still darting inside her thoughts, "If I could buy more time...?"

"The only way... would be...the draught of living death..." Poppy inhaled slowly, her head shaking, "Even I am not that skilled at brewing it...It would take time... it's a highly regulated potion..."

"But it's an option...?"

"Yes..."

Hermione's eyes turned to the journal on her desk, her brow tightening, "Do it..." She swallowed down the bile that burned her throat, "I'll...start the treatment as well..."

Poppy closed her eyes to collect her strength, "You'll need to come to Hogwarts..."

Hermione released the breath she was holding, her head lowering down to her hands. Ever just so, her fingers pulled up the sleeve of her shirt. The tips of her fingers tracing over the letters, "Okay..."

Poppy raised her wand, the equipment she'd set out silently collapsing in on itself as it folded neatly into her case. When the room was back to normal she approached Hermione once more, "I shall be ready for you tonight..."

Hermione nodded, her jaw clenched so tight she could feel her teeth pulsing. She didn't raise her head to the medi-witch's exit though when the door closed she did turn her eyes back to the journal. With a stiff back, she moved to her desk, taking her quill in hand.

Can you teach me to brew the Draught of Living Death?

Silent tears fell to the page as the ink disappeared. Hermione blinked furiously to clear them but her hands remained on the desk, bracing herself.

Why?

I cannot tell you.

There was a long pause, so long that Hermione had almost turned away but the response she finally received made her entire body run hot.

Then, I cannot help you.

The entire weight of the day suddenly crashed like a cresting wave. The tears that Hermione had so valiantly held back broke free, her face twisted and snarled as she screamed. Pure anguish left her lips, the summation of years of torturous nights coming out in one breath. Her heart raced as her body pulsed with a rage she hadn't known she was capable of.