En Memoriam

Chapter 21

Hermione opened her eyes very slowly, she could feel her desk chair beneath her though what worried her presently was the time she'd lost. While it was wholly worth it, she hadn't forgotten what lay ahead of her. Trepidatiuosly, she raised her eyes to her clock, her shoulders sagging with relief as it read half-past midnight.

With a hand through her hair, she leaned down into her bag to pull out the potions she needed to take. She hoped it would be alright as she hadn't taken them right after eating. As she set out the vials she let her mind wander over all that she'd seen. The startling revelation she had while watching Lily and Snape interact with each other in regards to how her relationship with Ron had gone and more importantly how it had ended.

They were still best of friends, she would do anything for him and he still very much held a special place in her heart. She was absolutely certain that if they ever found themselves in a life or death situation she would act without hesitation. This begged the question, what happened next? She knew Snape had called Lily a horrible name but would have Lily, with her seemingly infinite compassion, have written him off forever? If not, what exactly had happened...how long did it take for them to reconcile? Had she died before Snape ever found out? A small frown dropped her shoulders, of all she'd seen she greatly doubted that Snape was ever given such a gift.

A soft sigh brought her hands to her tired eyes, her mind was still swirling with thoughts and observations. With a wary look to the vial containing the draught of peace, she took it into her fingers, a single drop landing on her tongue. With a gently clearing mind and heavy body, she moved to her bed. Curling up against the pillow, she wrapped her arms around and fell into what she hoped would be a blissful sleep.

Early morning brought a most unusual dream to her otherwise blissful sleep. A low groan left her throat as she felt an odd pull through her chest. Though instead of forming beside herself she appeared somewhere else entirely.

Hermione opened her eyes to a darkened dreamscape. She knew she was dreaming, she was most sure—yet still, everything felt much too real. Much too clear. It took her only a few moments to realize just where exactly she had formed, once she had her heart that had been at rest revved like a V8 engine.

She didn't want to be there, she never wanted to return there. The Shrieking Shack groaned as the night wind shifted through it. Hermione stood in a sort of frozen state and could do nothing but stare at the darkly stained wood that had been covered in light dust. Her body felt floaty and certainly outside of her control as she took a cautious step forward, her feet leaving behind no print. Her chest didn't move as she didn't actually need to breathe in the state she found herself but still, the stale air burned her senses.

The Shack shifted again, this time the light of the moon slipped through the cracks as though the universe itself wanted her to remember. Remember the day that one of the world's most underrated wizards lost his life in the name of love.

A soft glimmer in a darkened corner, just beneath a broken chair desperately called for her attention. It was only with her pure will alone that she managed to turn her eyes away from the dust and stale blood. With a deep swallow, her heart still running rampant in her ears, she moved towards it. She made a wide circle around where she knew he had fallen and carefully bent down.

Her eyes narrowed, just beneath the decayed wood, lay a bottle—a vial really—exceptionally small and devoid of dirt and debris. Inside, she could see something but it wasn't a liquid, rather it looked more like a muggle gel capsule. The color of it felt uniquely familiar but as she reached out to pull it closer the entire scene dissolved and she felt the stomach-turning feeling of falling back into her body.

Hermione woke with a gasp, her eyes wide as though she'd been holding her breath. Her chest heaved as a slow headache began to pulse near her temples. Her body felt oddly disconnected, as though her limbs had not yet been returned to her. She felt more exhausted than when she retired but in a different way. Like her soul was exhausted.