Watching You Without Me

IamHermione

Rating: PG13
Genres: Angst, Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 10/09/2004
Last Updated: 11/09/2004
Status: completed

It all happened in a heartbeat. It happened in the amount of time that it took Harry Potter’s life to flicker and die. It happened too quickly for his stricken comrades to draw breath for the anguished screams that erupted almost without their consent. And the calm that was his death was shattered, and the battle continued. Not really your typical angst fic, I assure you. Two chapters. Kate Bush song fic.

Chapters

1. Chapter 1

2. The Morning Fog

1. Chapter 1

A/N: First of all, I want to thank everyone who read and reviewed my last fanfic, This is my truth, tell me yours. I was overwhelmed (to say the least) and for that reason, the sequel has been a bloody nightmare to write. This isn’t it, but I may post it soon. I may not. Because it’s shit.

This is yet another song fic. This is set to the fabulous Kate Bush’s song Watching You Without Me, from the album Hounds Of Love.

Please enjoy and review!

Disclaimer: Bloody annoying, these are. I mean, is anyone out there so out of touch with reality that they think I’d presume to lay claim to any of this??

Watching You Without Me

You can’t hear me

You can’t hear me

You can’t hear what I’m saying

You can’t hear what I’m saying

To you

It was over almost as suddenly as it had begun. The screaming, the explosions, the dull thuds of men and women falling to the cobbled streets, dead. The pain and confusion and elation and adrenaline. It just stopped.

And for a second, everything was still and quiet. And all that could be seen and heard was the, now chillingly and disgustingly familiar, sound of a body falling to the ground beside a heap of blindingly white ash. All that could be registered in the minds and eyes of the fortunate fighters still standing was the blurred colours, blurred in the way that only slow motion can.

The white of the ash. The pitch black of the hair on the face that was pink with exertion. The face that hit the stones with a sickening crunch. The vivid green of the eyes that slammed shut on impact. The mesmerising colour of red that was the blood that flowed from the fallen fighter’s broken body.

It all happened in a heartbeat. It happened in the amount of time that it took Harry Potter’s life to flicker and die. It happened too quickly for his stricken comrades to draw breath for the anguished screams that erupted almost without their consent.

And the calm that was his death was shattered, and the battle continued.

___________________

‘Hermione’. I walk to stand beside her when she doesn’t answer. I wave my hand in front of her face, perplexed.

‘Hermione, can’t you hear me?’ More hand waving.

I really don’t know what’s going on here. Hermione is sitting in her chair by the fire in the house we bought when we were married. Her legs are crossed on the footstool in front of her. Her hand is resting protectively on the small bump on her abdomen. This is how I’ve found every day for the past fortnight on returning from work. She’s reading. How typical. I smile at her frown of concentration.

But I call her name and she doesn’t answer. She glances at the clock from time to time. Each time the worried crease between her eyes deepens. She bites her lower lip in worry.

I don’t know how I got here, this evening. I just seemed to appear here beside her. The last thing I remember is…

Oh, no… no…I can’t be…

You watch the clock

Move the slow hand

I should have been home

Hours ago – but I’m not here

I’ve got to talk to her. I must. Something inside me is telling me that this is my last chance. But I know she won’t hear me. I just know.

‘HERMIONE’.

I screamed it this time.

‘HERMIONE, PLEASE!’

Nothing.

I put my hand close to hers. Close to our baby. And I lower it gently onto her hand. She doesn’t flinch.

I can feel her hand. I can touch it and feel the warmth of it. But she doesn’t…. she can’t ...

‘Oh, Merlin… Please… no!’

You can’t hear me

You can’t hear me

You can’t feel me

Here in the room with you now

You can’t hear what I’m saying

You don’t hear what I’m saying

To you

She’s getting agitated now. It’s getting dark. She knows that I’d let her know if I was going to be late. But she doesn’t know that today was the day.

I didn’t know. It was a surprise attack. We always knew it would happen eventually, but when I left her this morning… I didn’t know it would be for the last time.

Oh, God! What’s she going to do when she finds out? Who’ll tell her?

If I could talk to her one last time. If I could just tell her again how much I love her. If only I could still protect her and touch her and hold her again.

Can’t let you know

What’s been happening

There’s a ghost in our home

Just watching you without me

It just registers in my grief stricken mind. It lends my mind clarity and it gives me agony.

I can hear footsteps in the front garden.

I can hear the sobbing of my best friend as he forces his feet to carry him up the garden path to do what he knows he must by his two best friends.

I know I don’t have much time left.

I bend and kiss my wife on her quivering lips and for just a fraction of a second, I swear I can see recognition and unbearable understanding in her eyes.

There is a sharp tapping on the door.

She knows it’s not me. She glances at a photograph on the mantelpiece as she rises from the chair. It’s a picture of us on our wedding day, not even a year ago. She casts her eyes downward.

I can feel myself being pulled away from her as she realises what’s happening. I know that everything I know is coming to an end. She knows it too, at this stage. She walks slowly to the door and opens it with shaky hands.

Ron is standing there. My best friend. The man who stood beside me at my wedding. The man who will have to be a father to my child. He’s leaning on the doorframe for support. A bolt of anguished understanding hits Hermione like a fist and she falls.

I can’t bear to watch.

You didn’t hear me come in

You won’t hear me leaving

A/N: Another chapter soon, but it will be very short. Please review- it’s my only motivation!

2. The Morning Fog

A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews for the first chapter! They give me such a buzz! Like I said, this chapter will be much, much shorter. It has to be to be effective, I think.

I had some complaints about the length of the first chapter too- Just to clarify: I usually love to write really long chapters, but since this story is basically just narration, I felt it would get a bit tedious. I also thought it might make it a more emotive story. I do apologise, as I know that the longer the better, most of the time!

This is set to another song off Hounds Of Love, by Kate Bush: The Morning Fog.

Disclaimer: Please get help if you think I own this…

Please give me another natural high by reviewing! IamHermione –xxx—

The morning fog

I could have sworn that I just felt Harry kiss me. The lightest kiss imaginable. But he can’t have.

For a second, I could have sworn that I could see his eyes, alight with despair. But I can’t have.

I’ve been waiting for him to come home for a few hours now. I’ve been sitting in my favourite chair by the fire, reading. But I can’t concentrate. My eyes won’t bloody cooperate. I’m getting anxious.

He should have been home two hours ago.

I lay my hand gently on my belly. I’m four months pregnant. It’s been a difficult pregnancy so far. That’s why I’m at home and not at work with Harry.

I’ve tried to stay calm, this evening, for the baby’s sake, but I know something is wrong. I can tell. Harry’s my husband, and my partner in the Auror division. He would call if he were running late.

But I could have sworn he kissed me, just then…

There’s a sharp tap at the door, and all of a sudden, I know what’s happening. I know what’s been unfolding during the evening unbeknownst to me.

Harry does not knock at the door.

Oh, God, help me!

I glance at our wedding photo on the mantelpiece, but I can’t look at it. I tear my eyes away from it. I feel a sharp pain, somewhere; I don’t know where. I will my feet to carry me to the door, though I can feel my distress: The baby’s distress.

Oh, God, I’m losing everything!

My hand fumbles with the lock on the door, and it finally clicks open.

The door swings open and the light from outside hits me in the face so that I can hardly stand. I barely catch a glimpse of Ron’s vivid hair before the light envelops him and everything around me.

And everything slows down. I feel a trickle of what I’m sure is blood flow down my leg. I feel myself hit the floor, though it doesn’t hurt. I hear Ron screaming my name over and over again. Screaming with a hoarseness and desperation and a painful intensity that makes me realise that he’s already been screaming this evening.

This thought shuts me down. I can only think of Harry and my Baby. All gone.

The light

Begin to bleed

Begin to breathe

Begin to speak

D’you know what?

I love you better now.

I’ve never known anything like this. I feel the light. It’s like a breeze running over my body, lazily. Some part of me knows that there are people all around. The part of me that survives without breath, without consciousness.

I’m being torn away. Not painfully, though. No. It’s like falling. Like that first inexperienced breath.

I’m going to Harry. We are going to Harry.

I am falling

Like a stone

Like a storm

Being born again

Into the sweet morning fog.

D’you know what?

I love you better now.

The light begins to retreat and the people around me come into sharper focus. And sharper again. These were not the people I expected to see. I can see…

No… I can’t be…

I can see my parents standing teary-eyed beside my brothers, smiling. My fathers arm draped around my mothers shoulders, and my two brothers standing closely together; David’s hand, protectively, on little Mark’s shoulder: exactly how I’ve pictured them since they… after they were…Murdered.

I can’t be…

My confusion must show. Someone offers his hand to me as I am still lying on the floor, and I take it gratefully. I look to his face. It’s Harry. My heart feels like breaking with relief. I almost feel sick with emotion. He pulls me into his arms, sobbing. I cling to him, as my awareness seems to clarify. Everything seems to clarify.

All of these people around me; every single one, have been murdered by one man. But I can feel nothing but joy, and jubilation.

I look around and see I’m still in our house. My body is still lying in the doorway, my head in Ron’s arms as he cries until he retches, all the time clutching Harry’s wand in his hand. He was going to give it to me for the baby, obviously.

And for one second, I feel ashamed. I’m ashamed because I’m happy. I wish that I could hug him back before I have to go, and I can see that Harry feels the same. But we can’t. We’ll see him again, and he’ll see Harry and I again.

But not yet.

I smile at him sadly as I cling to Harry. I’m going to talk to my family. I haven’t seen them in a while.

I am falling

And I’d love to hold you now

I’ll kiss the ground

I’ll tell my mother

I’ll tell my father

I’ll tell my loved one

I’ll tell my brothers

How much I love them

The End

Please, review!