Requiem

Anasazi

Rating: PG
Genres: Angst, Drama
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 01/11/2004
Last Updated: 01/11/2004
Status: completed

Hermione wakes up after their fateful visit to the Department of Mysteries to find that things have changed for the worst. -ONE SHOT-

Chapters

1. Requiem

1. Requiem

Requiem

In Memoriam “Chamil Marie Diaz”

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Summary: Harry tells Hermione about Sirius' fate. Set after OOTP.

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Although her eyes were still closed, Hermione instinctively knew that there was something different about this day. She opened her eyes with urgency. For a moment, the light blinded her, and she had to close her eyes once again and take a deep breath. Slowly, she opened her eyes one more time, letting them adjust gradually to the brightness of the room.

She was surprised when she realized that she was not in her dormitory, but laying in a bed in what she recognized as Hogwarts' hospital wing. A curtain was pulled around her bed, shielding the rest of the infirmary from her eyes.

`How did I get here?' she thought. Hermione tried to sit, but an intense pain invaded her entire body, and she had to return to her original position. She closed her eyes, until the acute ache started to diminish.

Hermione fought back the urge to cry as she forced her rational side to analyze the situation at hand. What had happened? She remembered the Department of Mysteries, the arrival of the Death Eaters, the fight to escape. She remembered going into a room with Harry and Neville, and she remembered that two Death Eaters had followed them inside. She remembered them casting Impedimenta on the three of them, and she remembered smashing against a bookcase, watching helplessly as Harry was thrown back against the wall, defenseless.

And after that… nothing. What had happened at the DoM? How had they escaped? Where were Ron, Neville, Ginny, and Luna?

All semblance of rationality disappeared from her expression when her thoughts inevitably landed on Harry.

`God, please! Let him be safe! I beg you!'

She opened her eyes one more time, but before she could call Madam Pomfrey, she heard a soft moan coming from her right. She turned her head a bit to find her best friend sleeping on a very uncomfortable chair at arm's length from her bed.

Hermione had no words that could describe the relief she felt when she saw Harry safe. His hand propped up his head, and he was sporting a rather foreign scowl on his face. His eyeglasses were forgotten on his lap, and his silky black hair was wilder than she remembered ever seeing. He was mumbling in his sleep, but it wasn't until she heard him moan a second time that Hermione realized he was having a nightmare.

She forced her body to lie on its side, and slowly, she extended her arm toward him until she delicately touched his cheek.

“Harry,” she whispered the moment she touched him in that gentle attempt to wake him up. Harry opened his eyes, startled, and Hermione was sure he would have jumped from the chair if his green eyes had not caught sight of the girl in the bed.

His eyes, reddened and swollen, blinked three times before Harry finally realized he was indeed awake. A tired smile grazed his features, and his eyes shone bright. He reached with his hand, took Hermione's outstretched hand in his own, and pressed her hand more forcibly against his cheek.

“Hermione…” he started saying. His voice sounded as the voice of a man who had not spoken in several days. “…You are… you are…” Harry tried to continue, but he found he was too overwhelmed to finish the sentence. The only thing he could do was to guide her hand to his lips and plant butterfly kisses all over her skin.

“I'm okay, Harry,” Hermione said softly, both surprised and animated with Harry's reaction. Harry didn't reply, but settled for closing his eyes and tightening his hold on Hermione's hand.

After a few minutes, Hermione realized that no explanation was coming her way unless she asked for it. She grazed her fingertips against his chin in an attempt to get Harry to open his eyes. He did, raising his head to look at her. Hermione didn't waste another moment to ask, “Harry, what happened?”

She felt as a shudder ran over Harry's body, and fear started to get a hold of her. What had happened at the Ministry of Magic to have Harry in such a state?

“What's the last thing you remember?” Harry slowly asked.

“Umm… I remember you hitting the wall after the two Death Eaters yelled Impedimenta,” Hermione answered tentatively. She noticed Harry closing his eyes and taking a deep, steadying breath before he dared opened them again.

Harry placed their entangled hands on the edge of the bed and pulled his chair closer to her, the distance between them lessening considerably. Hermione resisted the tears that threatened to spill at the sight of Harry's face… he looked dispirited and distraught. His eyes were no longer the eyes of a boy, but of an old man who had seen too many horrors in his lifetime.

“Well… one of the Death Eaters was going to call for reinforcements, when you threw Silencio at him. However, he was able to hit you with a curse that… well, we still don't know what it was. But you fell to the floor… unconscious,” Harry started to remember, his voice once again sounding like the voice of a stranger.

“And Ron? Ginny? Neville? Luna?” Hermione asked with a trembling voice, feeling something close to panic just thinking about the possibility that something might have happened to them.

“They're all a bit banged up, but they are okay. Ron is sleeping on the other side of the room. He's healing nicely,” Harry answered gently. At that instant, Hermione's ears picked up a strong snore, and a small smile appeared on her lips when she recognized the trademark snore of her favorite redhead.

“Harry, how did we escape?” Hermione asked him, placing her other hand on top of his. Harry didn't look into her eyes, but rather stayed focused on the sight of her fingers tracing lazy circles on his hand.

“Dumbledore and the rest of the Order arrived at the last moment. In the end, a lot of Death Eaters ended in Azkaban… some escaped. Voldemort appeared…” Harry started saying. Hermione resisted the tremor that threatened to run through her body at the sound of the Dark Lord's name.

“Dumbledore stopped him, and the big coward ran and…” Harry finished. He bit his lower lip, and Hermione could see a definite struggle behind his eyes. She was under the impression that Harry was not telling her the entire story. Her suspicions became more evident when Harry's eyes filled with tears he refused to shed.

“I got to go… you have to rest,” Harry said in a hurry, letting go of Hermione's hand and wiping the tears with the cuff of his shirt. He had not been able to even reach the curtain when Hermione, ignoring the pain that vibrated throughout her body every time she moved, reached with her hand and grabbed his wrist in such a way he was unable to take another step.

“Harry, there's something you are not telling me,” Hermione whispered, her voice trembling slightly, but leaving him no doubt that there was no way to avoid this conversation. She felt the shivers break through Harry's body, and the young man still refused to look at her. Gently, she pulled him back towards the bed. She sat up in bed as far as her aching body allowed her to, and she left a space next to her for him to sit. She had to guide him there, because Harry seemed as if he had lost the ability to move.

Hermione let the silence filled the room as she allowed her hand to drift from his wrist to his hand, and laced her fingers with his'. She tightened her hold on his hand, drawing figure eights on his skin until she felt him relaxed slightly.

“What happened, Harry?” Hermione whispered. Harry opened his mouth, but no words came out. Ignoring her initial hesitation, Hermione scooted closer to her, until her chin rested on top of his shoulder. It was then when Harry finally spoke.

“Sirius is dead.”

Hermione gasped, unable to do anything but stare with wide eyes at the side of his face, sure she had heard him wrong. She tried to ask Harry to repeat what he had just said, but the only thing that came out of her mouth was a choked moan.

“Do you remember the Veil? We were fighting with the Death Eaters on that room when Sirius appeared alongside the members of the Order. He was… He was in the middle of a duel with Bellatrix when… when… when he got too close to the veil and… Bellatrix hexed him and… and… he fell back… he passed through the veil,” Harry said, choking in his words.

Hermione had heard the expression “the world comes tumbling down” before, but she had never quite grasped the meaning of that phrase until this very moment. Somewhere in the back of her head, she remembered what she had felt when Harry had gotten too close to the veil, and by instinct she knew the danger it involved. A devastating cold spread throughout her limbs, and she started shivering violently. She hugged herself, running her hands up and down her arms, trying to regain control of her body.

`This is not happening… this is not happening.'

As if he were able to read her thoughts, Harry continued, “I couldn't believe it either when it happened. I kept hoping to see Sirius at the other side of the arch, laughing at Bellatrix. I called him… and I called him…” Harry's voice was trembling severely by now, “but he didn't answer… and I keep calling him… but he never answers.”

Hermione tried to speak, to tell him how sorry she was, to let him know that she was there to share his pain… but her sobs were so powerful that she was speechless, unable to do anything but gaze horrified at Harry's stricken face.

“And is my fault, Hermione. If only… if only I had listened to you… if only I hadn't insisted on going to the Department of Mysteries… if only I had practiced Occlumency like you kept telling me I should… Sirius would never have gone to my rescue… and he would still be alive.”

Hermione attempted to tell him that it wasn't his fault, but her voice betrayed her, so she settled for letting her hands go around his shoulders and hugging him to her body, letting his head rest in the crook of her neck, rocking him softly in her hurting arms.

“I thought I had lost you,” Harry continued in that strained whisper, “I've never felt that type of fear before in my life, that utter terror that ran through me when I saw you fall. I couldn't think… I couldn't breathe… I couldn't go on…” He finally turned his head, leaned back and look up at Hermione's eyes, letting his eyes lock with hers.

“Hermione… what happened to you was also my fault. You and Sirius both paid for my stupidity… and I can't let that happened again,” Harry implored softly.

After a few moments were their eyes communicated all that words could not express, Hermione realized her best friend was saying good-bye.

That was enough to facilitate her to find her voice. Grabbing his face with her hands to force him to look at her while she spoke, she said, “Listen to me, Harry! THIS IS NOT YOUR FAULT! You didn't CHOOSE to be the Boy-Who-Lived!”

“But I did choose to go to the DoM that night, Hermione,” Harry whispered, looking at her with an absent gaze, replaying in his head the nightmare he lived that night, and the one he seemed unable to wake up from.

“You are human, Harry. We all make mistakes,” Hermione replied, guiding his face lower until his forehead rested against hers.

“There are mistakes, Hermione… and then, there's this…” Harry whispered, closing his eyes weakly. He was so fucking tired of crying.

“Both Sirius and I chose to be there that night, Harry. Our choices… our consequences,” Hermione answered, caressing his cheek with surprising gentleness.

Impulsively, she lay back on the bed, her hands still holding onto Harry. He laid himself on his side next to her, his eyes still closed, resting his head next to hers on the pillow.

Hermione scooted a bit closer to him and reached up with her hand, running her fingers through Harry's hair. Slowly, he opened his eyes and looked deeply into her eyes before asking, “Hermione, how can you be so nice to me? After what almost happened…”

“Because I love you, Harry… like Sirius loved you. And those we love are always in our hearts,” Hermione answered with extreme honesty. Without hurry, her hand inched its way from Harry's hair to his chest, finally resting over his heart.

“You loved Sirius very, very much… and that is why he will always live in your heart… as he will in mine,” the young woman continued, resting her other hand on top of her own heart.

Harry's face betrayed the fact that he was about to succumb to the tears that were begging to be freed. With a quaking voice, Harry whispered, “I miss him so much, Mione. And it's only been three days… how can I go on without him? How can I go on when I know that everyone I love is in danger?”

Hermione moved even closer to him, until the length of her body brushed against his eyes. Her eyes locked on Harry as she said, “Harry, I don't have all the answers. But we'll find a way… together.”

She moved her head upwards and kissed his forehead with tenderness, her hand going back to caressing the mop at the top of his head. Harry closed his eyes softly, and she felt as some of the tension he had been carrying on his shoulders for the last three days started to lessen.

“Now sleep,” Hermione whispered as if she were talking to a small child, “I've slept enough for now.”

After what seemed to be hours, when Harry's breathing finally confirmed that he had fallen asleep, the tears once again appeared on her chocolate colored eyes.

And she cried in silence, until her entire body trembled with the emotions running through her.

She cried for Sirius, teacher, guide, friend and father figure.

And she cried for the young man he had left behind.

Some days, waking up was not the answer.

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A/N:

Hello, friends. This story was originally written in Spanish, and it helped me to express some of the feelings I was going through due to the death of my cousin, Chamil, in a car crash.

Today is the one-year anniversary of her death, and I wanted to share this story with all of you. I don't think there's anybody in this world who hasn't felt the pain of losing a loved one, but there's comfort to be found in the memories, in family and friends, and most of all, in the reality that the person that's not with us anymore is not really gone, for he or she shall never be forgotten, and they will truly be “always in our hearts.”

Yours truly,

Anasazi

November 1, 2004

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