Death at Hogwarts - A Harry Potter fanfiction

Chapter Seven

“He just annoys me so much!” Hermione scowled as she sat with me by the lake. A few days had passed since the Felix incident, and Hermione was still fuming with Ron and Harry, to the point that she was flat out refusing to touch their homework for them – I had no idea why she would in the first place, it was their homework, not hers. If she kept doing it for them, and they got good marks, it was because of her work, not theirs. I couldn't understand, but then again, maybe it was a mortal thing.

“If he annoys you so much, then why are you in love with him?”

“W-what? I am not in love with him!” she spluttered indignantly.

“Please don't insult my intelligence, Hermione. I've been around mortals long enough to know love when I see it. Why don't you just tell him you're in love with him?”

“Because I want him to come to me! He should realise! In our fourth year, he didn't even realise I was a girluntil it came to asking someone to the Yule Ball, and then it was like a light switched on somewhere inside his dumb brain and he realised!” she shook her head angrily at the memory. “He's so stupid sometimes!”

I merely sighed in response as she gazed out across the lake.

“To make matters worse, Harry keeps going on about Malfoy being a Death Eater!” she continued suddenly.

“What a ridiculous name.” I said. “Death Eater? Why call them that? They don't go around eating dead bodies, believe me, I should know. I've had to go Harvesting the souls of all the people they've killed.”

“Were you there when Harry's parents died, or did you arrive after?” Hermione asked, looking at me.

“I was there the moment they died, as I am the moment anyone dies.” I replied.

She went quiet at that.

“What was it like?”

“What was what like?”

“Watching him kill them, I mean, does it ever get hard to watch people die?”

I thought about it for a moment before replying.

“No. It's actually nice in a way, I mean, when people die, they're free from the burden of having a body to lug around with them, free of pain and suffering, and ready for the next life.” I said. Hermione nodded as she listened.

“You know, I never thought I'd be sat out here, having a conversation with the Angel of Death.”

“And I never thought I'd be sat here, having a conversation like this with a mortal, believe me.” I said, smiling at her.

After a while, we headed back to the Common Room, to where Harry and Ron were sat doing their Potions homework, Harry struggling as he hadn't really paid attention, and the book he was using wasn't very helpful.

“Maybe you should try paying attention instead of using the Half Blood Prince as a way out.” Hermione suggested waspishly as she sat down, pulling her already finished homework from her bag, looking through it and nodding approvingly.

“Hermione, can't you -” Harry began.

“No, I can't.” she said, giving both he and Ron an icy glare. “You should try not cheating by using a book that has Dark Magic in it, shouldn't you?”

Harry fell silent, and I simply stared at the book he was reading. It looked like a normal textbook, and even felt like one. I couldn't sense any Dark Magic, so I figured that the spells were written inside the book, somewhere in the margins of the potion recipes. I had no idea what Harry was doing with such a book, but I wasn't going to get involved, it wasn't for me to get involved in, this was between Harry and his friends.

The three friends were quiet for some time as Hermione took a book from her bag and sat reading, pointedly ignoring both Harry and Ron, who were struggling greatly with their homework. Finally Hermione took pity on them, sighed and grabbed their homework from them.

“Hermione, thank you,” Ron said weakly. “If I ever insult you again-”

“I'll know you're back to normal.” she said, handing them both their homework back. The next ten minutes were spent in silence broken only by the scratching of quills on parchment as the two boys finished their essays off at last and sat back with relieved sighs.

“I'm exhausted.” Ron yawned. “I'm off to bed. Night.”

“Goodnight. I said as he walked off, Harry soon following, with Hermione and I left alone again.

“Do you think you'll ever tell Harry and Ron who you are?”

“Maybe.” I smiled, taking out an hourglass and watching the sand trickle gently towards the bottom.

“Who does that belong to?” Hermione asked, watching the sand with me.

“It belongs to Albus Dumbledore.” I replied, tucking it away.

“There wasn't much sand left.” she observed, looking at me.

“I can't say, you know that.” I said, staring her down.

“Still. . .how do you cope sometimes?”

“I just get on with things. You learn very quickly to just deal with it.”

She nodded and stifled a yawn.

“Maybe you should get some sleep.” I said. She nodded and stood, raising a hand as she yawned again, waved goodnight and headed off to her bed.

I suddenly felt someone was about to die and pulled their hourglass from my robe. The sand was about to empty completely from the top half. The person due to die was a Muggle, and someone who Harry knew very well.

Dudley Durlsey was about to die far before his time.