Title: Don't You Need Me?
Author: piinkiice on ff.net, Harry_Hermione_Forever on PK.org
Rating: PG-13 for later chapters where there will be character death and self-harm.
Disclaimer: I don't Harry Potter or any of these characters except the ones you don't
recognize.
Author's notes: I wrote this story in parts...so I have the beginning finished,
but I wrote the middle before I wrote the beginning or the end. So there are still some gaps I need to fill in, and
then beta-ed, so updates will not be consistent. Thanks to my beta EMILY!
Summary: Futurefic. This is the story of Harry and Hermione's daughter, Augusta. She is a ballet
dancer, and Hogwarts is the last place she wants to be. There is no magic in the world of ballet.
**Sorry it has taken me so long to update!!**
Chapter Three
The room was spinning. The room was spinning, and Augusta couldn't see anything. The room was spinning and Augusta couldn't open her eyes or swallow, or..."What?! What happened...?!?!" There. She found her voice.
"As I was saying earlier, Ms. Potter, God takes away those that he treasures most--"
"Headmaster, I don't care about God. Please tell me what happened." Gus was trying to keep an even voice, but she could tell it sounded high and weird.
"Your parents, along with your Uncle Ron and Aunt Luna and Grandma and Grandpa Weasley went out to supper. From what I hear, the night was progressing nicely...until someone tried to assassinate Arthur. You see, your Grandpa Weasley holds a very, very important job as Minister of Magic. Unfortunately, some wizards don't agree with some of his decisions. Now, if that someone had succeeded in assassinating the Minister..." Albus Dumbledore shook his head.
"And my father? Was he there when she...when she...died?" Augusta had to whisper the last word.
Dumbledore nodded. "That's okay, then. She died...happy." Augusta was in a dreamlike state. She felt out of her body; like she was watching the scene unfold, not as if she was actually a part of it.
"I'm going home, Headmaster. My father needs me..." Augusta swallowed deeply. Dumbledore nodded. "Christmas holiday starts in a week anyway. Come back by next term, my dear girl."
~*~
Augusta took a portkey the next hour. It took her to a park across the street from her home in central London. She dragged her trunk across the street and with a deep breath, opened the door. There wasn't a single light on in the house and the lights from the streets outside cast eerie shadows. She set her trunk down by the door and hung up her winter cloak.
"Dad?" There was no answer. She walked through the house, going to the kitchen first. Her Uncle Ron and Aunt Luna were sitting at the table in hushed voices. When Ron noticed she was there, he got up and enveloped her in a warm hug. Luna rubbed her back as Gus sobbed into her uncle's warm body. When she pulled away, she noticed that her Aunt and Uncle were crying as well.
"Where's dad?" Augusta asked.
"Sleeping, I think." Ron answered.
Augusta's eyes clouded with worry. "Can I see him?"
Luna wrapped an arm around her and let her to a chair. "He won't see anyone. He won't come out. Why don't you give him some time?"
~*~
Augusta spent most of the day just hanging around. She didn't want to go into her room. She knew she had a picture of her and her mother on her window sill above her bed and she didn't want to see it. She remembered the day that picture was taken. It was her very first Nutcracker. At the age of seven, she was the youngest Party Girl. All the other girls were twelve, yet she still danced better than them. Anyway, during intermission, her parents had rushed backstage. She remembered how her father was beaming. He kept repeating, "My princess is a dancer...my princess is a dancer..." Augusta loved when her father called her "his princess". It made her feel so special....
Her mother had been crying that day. Not tears of sadness, but tears of joy. She was so proud...so proud! Luckily, her parents had come just at the right moment, as Gus was just about to change out of her costume. Her mother had practically jumped on her and crushed her with a hug. At that moment, her father had taken the picture. It wasn't a wizard picture. It was just an ordinary picture. But there was something so...captivating about it.
Gus's face was scrunched up in surprise as her mother kissed her cheek. There was a single tear running down Hermione's face. It was so beautiful...
~*~
After three hours of reading in a poorly lit room, and after two showers, four cups of tea, and a whole lot of lying around, Gus decided it was time to go into her room. She opened the door and quietly shut it behind her. The room seemed odd to her. It was exactly the same as when she had left. It didn't feel as if she left at all. Yet, the room seemed almost...stale...to her. Like it hadn't been slept in for many years, instead of only a few weeks.
Her eyes rested on The Picture. Anger consumed her--anger that she had never before felt in her life. She ran to the picture and slammed it down. Glass shattered and shards of it landed on her bed. She tried picking up the pieces of glass, but there were too many and they were too small. Such frustration! Blind in her anger, she picked up a shard of glass and ran it down the underside of her arm.
Only after her arm started bleeding did she realize what she had done. "Evanesco!: She cried, pointing her wand at her arm. It was a spell she had read about once. Of course, since she had never tried it before, it didn't work. "Evanesco!" Nothing happened. "Evanesco!!!" The blood kept dripping down as batch of fresh tears trickled down her face.
Augusta ran to the bathroom, making sure her Aunt or Uncle didn't see the blood. As she washed the blood off, she couldn't help but notice how oddly comforting the stinging pain was....
~*~
Grandma Weasley brought over dinner that night. Grandpa Weasley came over as well. He was a little hesitant at first; he felt awfully guilty. But Gussie ran into his arms and whispered, "I don't blame you, grandpa. Mum would have done it for anyone. I love you..." After that, dinner went by almost smoothly. "Can I bring dad his dinner?" But apparently, her father had requested they put a warming charm on the plate; he wasn't hungry and would eat later.
Gus didn't understand. Why wouldn't they let her see him? She knew he needed her...needed to see his little princess. What were they so scared of her seeing, anyway? Didn't they know she was bright? She knew what grief did to people!
But they all gave her a different reason. "You can see him tomorrow, dearie." Molly said.
"Why don't you just give him some time, sweetheart?" Ron suggested.
"I can help you study, if you'd like." Luna offered.
Arthur didn't say anything.
~*~
That night, as Gus got into bed, she thought not about her mother, but about Charlie. She didn't even know if Charlie knew about Hermione. Well, she must know...it would be all over the Daily Prophet by tomorrow, anyhow. But when Gus had left, Charlie was in class. Maybe she would come for the Christmas holiday...
Augusta fell into a restless sleep. She dreamed that she was running and running and running. Soon, she wasn't running, but dancing--flying! She saw a small, white candle in the middle of a dark, dark room; she wasn't dancing anymore. As she got closer to the candle, it suddenly went out, leaving her alone and blind to the light.
Gus sat up with a start, breathing heavily. Walking out of her room quietly, she went to get a glass of cold water. On the way to the kitchen, she saw a small light on in the den. Wondering who would be up at this hour, she went to investigate. What she saw made her breath catch in her throat.
Her father was sitting on the tan leather couch. His hair was even more disheveled than usual and he had terrible stubble on his chin. His dinner was on the table in front of him, still untouched. He stared straight ahead, eyes unwavering. She couldn't contain herself anymore. She ran over to her father and sat next to him on the sofa.
Wrapping her arms around his middle, she cried, "Oh, daddy..." As her tears soaked through his shirt, he seemed to come to and realize his daughter was there, hugging him. Slowly and almost numbly, he smoothed back her hair. "My little princess...my Gussie...Oh, Gus..." They sat there for a while, Harry rocking his daughter to ease her tears.
Harry must've realized it was the middle of the night, because he asked his daughter, "Gussie, what are you doing up, darling?" She was going to tell him about her nightmare...how awful it was...how she read in a book that a candle going out is a terrible omen...but she didn't want to worry him anymore. "I couldn't sleep...its awfully strange being here." Gus could tell her father nodded, though she didn't see it.
They sat there in silence for a bit. "Gus, do you know who the Dursleys are?"
"Yeah...aren't they the people that raised you?" She said as she yawned.
"Tomorrow, Gus, we're going to see them. They haven't seen how beautiful you've grown to be...and
someone needs to tell them about your mother....it's time for bed, Augusta."
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