The Journey Never Ends

A/N- I’ve finally got this chapter up! I don’t know when I’ll be able to next update- GCSE’s get in the way. Hopefully I’ll get a few more up, and then start again after my exams.

Please read and review, I’m stuck in revision and it will cheer me up no end!

A New Beginning?

Hermione’s footsteps echoed as she pelted along the dark corridors. No students around gave Hogwarts an eerie, mysterious feel, aided by the light from her wand which was casting fearsome shadows over the cold stone walls. She didn’t need the light; the way to her office was a route Hermione could hardly forget. She could walk it in her sleep, and had done so many times before, only to awaken in a part of the school she barely knew.      

Her pace slowed as she approached the office. The door was closed, but the light shone from the cracks around the door, illuminating her face. It was almost as though the presence of Harry was calling her. Smiling at that thought, she glanced down at herself whilst trying to even her breathing. She wasn’t keen to let Harry see her out of breath, and wearing her unflattering teaching robes.

“Nox”, she whispered, the light from her wand vanishing. She walked the final few steps towards the door and tried to collect her thoughts and calm herself. Part of her still believed that she would open this door to find an empty office, and Harry wouldn’t be there and then she’d wake up and remember reality. “Well,” she reasoned, “it’s a good dream while it-”

The door opened quickly, with almost violent force, making Hermione lose her footing. Regaining her balance she automatically looked up…into a pain of bright green eyes. For a minute it was as if time stood still, Harry gazing at Hermione, and her goggling back.

“I heard-” Harry began, but seeing her face pushed the words out of his mind and reacted the only way he knew. He threw his arms around her and pulled her in, savouring the warmth, the musky smell of her perfume, the worn feel of her robes that he had unknowingly missed for so long. Hermione returned the hug, nestling her head just under his chin and squeezing tightly. In that moment her doubts vanished. This was Harry who’d loved her- Harry who still loved her. Yes, he had to give an explanation, but right now Hermione held onto him with all her might, as if letting go might mean he’d vanish from her life once again.

Reluctantly Harry let Hermione go. He stepped back and placed his hand against her glowing cheek. Hermione’s eyes closed as she savoured his touch, bringing her happiness, life. Meaning. This is it. I meant nothing without him.

Harry looked at Hermione with awe and wonder. She hadn’t changed much since their parting. Her face was still as beautiful, her unruly curls framing it perfectly. Even her tatty robes seemed to give her grace and presence. He drank in every atom of her, making a memory he would never forget again. How could I have left this beautiful woman? He wondered. She is worth more than life itself.

Sadly, he noticed the shadows under her eyes. He could sense her exhaustion. This was my doing. She would do well to ignore me and never speak to me again.

Wrapping his hand around Hermione’s left hand he brought it up to eye-level. He couldn’t help but show his joy as his heart leapt upon seeing the ring that sat snugly there.

“You’ve worn this, all this time?” he questioned

Hermione smiled to see him so happy, but knew you she had to be honest with him. “No I didn’t Harry.” His face fell and she rushed on, determined to explain, “I wore it for two years. I looked at it everyday and wished that it would bring you back to me. People saw it and wondered at me-they thought I was a fool to hold onto such hope. Then, a few months ago, Ron left. Everyone believed you were dead, and I had no one to turn to for comfort. I removed it then, not because I no longer loved you, but because I could not stand to have such a cruel reminder of you with me everywhere I turned.” She sighed sadly.

“Hermione, I’m so sorry. I should never have left. I knew, just after I disapparated in front of you I had made a mistake. But I was stupid. I didn’t want to have to deal with the press any more. I guess it was my pride that kept me from coming back; I thought it would be harder to deal with it if you were in the press too. After everything we’ve been through together, you’d have thought I’d have known better. But I know now.”

“Did you get my letters?” Hermione asked quietly. She had to tell him what had happened…

“No, I never received one. I thought you had abandoned me.” Harry replied.

“Never Harry. I could never have done that,” she said, reaching for his hand. They sat down together on the bed. “I have to tell you Harry…” she barely whispered.

“Hermione? What’s the matter?” Harry asked fearfully.

“Two days after you left, I…I found out I was pregnant.” Hermione fought to keep her voice steady. It was a long time since she had thought about this, never mind recounted it to anyone.

“Pregnant?” Harry said, awed. “Then that means…that means we have-”

“No. I wrote a letter to tell you about it a week later. Afterwards, I was in the kitchen, and…and-” Hermione broke off into uncontrolled sobs. It was surprising she had any tears left.

Harry wrapped his arms around her and let her cry. “Shh love. It’s ok.” After a few minutes she quietened, and Harry paused in stroking her hair. “I know this is painful. But you have to tell me. I have to know how much I let you suffer alone.”

Hermione sniffed, wiping a sleeve across her eyes. “I know,” she said. “I miscarried. I lost the baby. Our baby. And I just felt like I must be a terrible person because everything I loved was being taken away from me!”

Now Harry’s eyes were glazed with tears. Their child. He felt his heart shatter for the two years he had lost, and the times he had missed. He’d found his love, and abandoned her unnecessarily and completely unfairly.

“You are not,” he insisted, “a terrible person. If anyone’s terrible around here it’s me! I’m the one who went and left you. You know,” he said thoughtfully, “I knew something was wrong. Like you said, it must have been a week after I’d left when I felt a pain. Here,” he said, placing his hand over his heart. “It was this rush of emotions, sadness and hopelessness. You remember how I used to know what Voldemort was feeling sometimes? It was like that, but without the pain in my scar. And in that instant, I knew something awful had happened to you, but by then I couldn’t return. And I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to help you, to share your grief.”

And he was, so very sorry. He could have made the pain easier to bear. The awful possibility crept into his mind- was it because I left? Did that cause her so much worry that the baby died? His guilty conscience would not relent as the thought flew through his mind. Hermione Granger, sat here before him with puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks, looked like the most beautiful thing in the world. Guilty? Yes he was. Sad? Indeed, for the loss of his love, his child. But the emotion that overrode his brain, his body, his heart, was love. The only time he had ever known love like this was with his parents; his mother’s love saving and protecting him from Voldemort.

He knew, finally, the answer to the question that had plagued him for all this time…

*****

Deep emerald eyes. Piercing red slits. The opponents stared at each other across the plane. All others forgotten, it was time the prophecy was fulfilled “…either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives…”   

Onlookers watched fearfully. War that raged had long since been abandoned as both Death Eaters and supporters alike realised what was at stake. Everything. Wands hung loose by their sides, curses died on their lips.

Fear and awe was etched on every face. Except for two. Dumbledore stood, eyes blazing, alone. His wand was nowhere in sight and his stance relaxed. The only way you could tell he was involved in the battle was his frozen frame, and focused attention. It was as though he had no capacity for fear, even as the fight commenced…

“Imperio!” cried Voldemort.

Harry had no time to react before he felt his mind drifting, dreamlike. The pain from his wounds had vanished, and his anger at Voldemort.

“Yes…” hissed the Death Eaters. “The Dark Lord cannot be escaped!”

Kneel! Ordered a voice in Harry’s head. Respect me! Obey me as your master!

But Harry, well practiced from his fifth year, knew better. His voice was barely a whisper as he uttered, “No.”

Instantly the curse lifted and Harry’s emotions returned full force. Quickly, he blocked them out. His mind was like a book to Voldemort and he didn’t want to give away any more than he had to.

The other face was Hermione’s. She, like Dumbledore, merely stared- but there was no fear in her eyes, as with so many others. She had faith. She knew in her heart that Harry had the strength.

Suddenly Dumbledore spoke aloud. Onlookers turned to listen but he remained unaware, his gaze still fixed on the duelling men only metres away.

“You must realise Harry! For too long you have relied on your head when the answers lie within your heart!” His voice shook with emotion; the struggle to communicate.

These words went unheard by Harry who was mid-duel. Spell after spell was uttered, none having effect on either man. They were well practiced and they were strong. A difficult, yet even match. Harry could sense Voldemort’s impatience, flashes of green light were whizzing past now-Avada Kedavra. But Harry fought on. He had experienced use of the unforgivable curses before and there was little point in pausing to be concerned about it. Instead, he ducked and weaved, using his Quidditch skills to guide him in an almost dance-like avoidance.

Voldemort’s harsh laughter echoed as Harry slowed in his spell casting and continued to weave through the blast of green light.

“Does this mean you are tired of our duel?” Voldemort’s cold voice reached Harry’s ears as the spells stopped. He was breathing heavily. Voldemort was toying with him, using words from their confrontation in Harry’s forth year. How Harry remembered…

But he knew too well Voldemort was testing his anger. Losing his temper would give Voldemort all the weapons he needed.

“You know you can’t win against me, Harry Potter,” came the voice again, a whisper now.

“Your parents couldn’t stop me. What makes you different? I wonder what they’ll say…Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Died?”

There was a ringing in Harry’s ears now.

“Why don’t you just give up? Everyone believes you are a hero. They don’t understand you, do they? The pressure you have to bear, the knowledge you must live with… What are you living for?” Voldemort’s voice was a hiss now. He had hit home.

Yes, Harry wondered, what am I living for?

Suddenly his heart leapt, and pasted over his eyes was a vision of Hermione. “Me,” she whispered, curls blowing around her face. The real Hermione stood still, eyes tightly closed. “You live for me…” It was the most beautiful image he had ever seen.

As if in slow motion, the onlookers watched as a strip of green light from Voldemort’s wand blasted into Harry’s chest. There was a collective gasp as Harry’s eyes widened in surprise, and then he fell backwards landing with a thud on the hard ground. Dumbledore frowned and glanced over at Hermione. Did she understand?

Harry felt dreamlike as he opened his eyes to a blue landscape. Tired and weak, he lay still. “Where am I…?”

At that moment a sot touch brushed his face, and a hand helped him to his feet.

“It is not your time Harry.” Hermione appeared in front of him, sparkling eyes locked on his own.

“But…Voldemort’s right-I live for nothing.”

“Shh,” she whispered, “I lend you strength. You must finish what has been started.” The vision blurred.

“How?” he shouted. “I’m alone!”

“Look to your heart, Harry. Look to your…”

Harry’s eyes snapped open. Slowly he sat up, taking in the stars glittering in the deep navy sky. The laughter from the Death Eaters ended abruptly. As Harry rose to his feet, everyone turned, amazed.

“Riddle!” he called top Voldemort’s back.

Painstakingly slowly, Voldemort tuned, astonished. How was it possible…? Harry stood, eyes blazing, staring at him. For the first time that night fear showed in Voldemort’s eyes.

“There has been too much bloodshed tonight!” Harry said, his voice loud and powerful, “Over something which should never have happened. Tom Riddle, you have never considered that others would come to fight you. You have no respect for these men,” he said, casting his eyes over the Death Eaters. “You wish for immortality, for all-consuming power. But fear you though we may, we do not respect you. You were never a master.”

“Leave him!” he said to the Death Eaters. Gradually, one by one, they came to stand with Harry’s supporter’s taking off their masks. Some looked relieved, thankful even.

“You see? Your only weapon is fear! But Tom, I do not fear you. I pity you. Your meaningless life. You have no friends, no family. What are you living for?”

Voldemort looked bewildered, recognising the words he had used just minutes before.

“Good will always overcome evil! Because good stands united. You stand alone.”

“I will not kill you. I do not intend to give in to your standards and become a murderer. But Tom, know this, your cause is lost.”

The silence remained for a few moments. This was a defining moment in the history of wizard-kind.

Without a word, Voldemort raised his wand and placed it to his temple. Almost silently, yet with conviction, he said “Avada Kedavra!” the flash of green light only visible in his eyes. Harry turned away, full of sorrow, as the crowds around began to cheer. But the only thing Harry could hear was a young man’s voice echoing in his head, “thank you…”

*****

Harry sighed. He would not have survived that night if Hermione hadn’t been there. Her love for him saved him from the killing curse, just as his mother’s love had done when he was only a baby. Now he truly understood.

“Harry?” came Hermione’s voice, bringing him to his senses. “Are you ok?”

“I love you Hermione,” Harry said, and drawing her close, kissed her like he had never done before. Hermione’s eyes opened wide, before she relaxed into the kiss, letting it tell her exactly what she needed to know. He loved her.

“God I’ve missed that,” Harry said with a smile.