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Aftermath by IslandPrincess1
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Aftermath

IslandPrincess1

A/N: I don't know how to break this to you, but you're probably going to be disappointed in this chapter. I worked long and hard, even going through HBP, which I don't do often nowadays, and it is long, 21 pages on Microsoft Word, but this is how the penultimate chapter of Aftermath wished to be told, as strange as that may seem. Also, for latter part of chapter, mood music could be Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah, it sounded right in my head.

On the bright side, as there always is a bright side, now you will finally have the story of Percy-mort and then his demise. Hopefully, I've tied up most of the loose ends, one more chapter to go.

Thanks so much to all who have reviewed and who continue to read this story, it at times went off from what I first intended but that's okay, not too much. And to Kena, I know the last chapter thing didn't show up but I guess its because of the quotation marks, the title bar probably interpreted it as something else.

Okay, I shut up now.

Disclaimer: Quotes from all six books by JK Rowling are not mine, most of the characters and their universe in the chapters are not mine, but this very strange plot is.

*****

A last Kiss before I Die

They were taking too long.

Once Emmeline had told them everything she remembered of her stay with Percy, and they had decided on a location, Harry thought they would go rushing off to save Hermione at once. Apparently he was wrong.

First, Lupin insisted that they all leave the Ministry ruin and return to headquarters where they could leave Emmeline in the care of Mrs Weasley.

Emmeline point blank refused to go, began to scream and cry again and they changed locations to the Burrow. This pleased Mrs Weasley immensely when they arrived with her, but her joy was short-lived. When she didn't see Hermione come through the door behind them, she guessed what else had transpired that night and became rather solemn. She took great pains though, and to Harry's relief, to keep all this from Emmeline.

Harry's patience was then running on thin by the time they left the house.

He immediately wanted to Disapparate as they were, but this time Moody insisted that they get Aurors for security just in case Percy decided that he needed supporters as Voldemort had. Harry argued vehemently against this, the seven of them left would still be quite capable of fending off Percy, and again, they were taking too long.

He then almost had to be restrained when next they all decided that he tell of how he had defeated the Dark Lord.

Not the time, this was the worst possible time to be having this conversation. But they insisted, he relented and this was why they were still standing in the middle of the darkened front yard of the Burrow while Lupin thought over what Harry hurriedly told them.

Even though he was very anxious for them to move on, he did not fail to notice their reactions.

Lupin and Moody were silent audience, listening carefully to all that he had said so that he could almost see the gears in their minds at work. Tonks, Bill and Charlie were less silent, with Tonks and Charlie stopping him repeatedly in astonishment. And Ginny, usually the most vocal, was rather quietly watching him, had mostly paled at various intervals and even on one occasion had to stifle a horrified gasp. But they listened, and then all stopped him when he got to the part about Dementors.

"Wait a minute… are you telling me… that Dementors did him in?" asked Ginny.

"No, I got him with the curse first, and then they did him in." Harry repeated.

"Did anything else happen after the Dementors took him… he said he needed you to "regenerate"… did anything at all come of that?" asked Lupin.

Harry paused for a moment, considering this, and then replied, "I don't think so. I think he probably needed more of my blood… Hermione insisted that I wasn't a Horcrux, she never really gave a reason, she just insisted…"

He broke off sadly, ran his hair through his hands and looked back to the house where Emmeline was spying on them from the window. Mrs Weasley came up behind her, looked out at them with worried, teary eyes, and then drew the curtains and took her away.

"Sounds like something Hermione would do," said Ginny quietly and they all looked to her.

She did not look back at them though, just stood there looking at the earth beneath their feet with an expression of someone just realising something.

Lupin eventually broke the silence by asking, "Are you sure nothing else happened? What happened to the Dementors, we didn't see any Dementors around Godric's Hollow…?"

"I didn't either," Harry replied. "They were in the forest, he called them from there… but… but when he died something did happen, I remember now. After they sucked out his soul they came after me, but there was this light, I don't know what… and then, like every time they've come after me, I heard my mother screaming and that was the last thing I knew."

"A light? And you heard Lily again… that light… it must have been a Patronus… but cast by whom?" Lupin thought out loud.

Harry shook his head, "I-I don't know. But please, we have to leave now, Percy… he-he has Hermione… he's been stalking her for months, killed Ron and Draco and took Emmeline to get her, and now he has her… please Lupin, we'll figure that out later, but let us find Percy and Hermione instead… please let us find them instead."

Moody tried to protest, claim that they needed more help, but he was overruled. One look at Harry's anxious expression and frightened eyes and the others gave in at once. Without waiting to hear the rest of his "Constant Vigilance!" speech, they began to Disapparate, one by one to the place they guessed Emmeline had been and Percy was now.

The grounds of Hogwarts, late in the summer and vacant of its usual thousand occupants and their instructors, were dark, forbidding and hollow when the small group Apparated just outside of its now rusted gates.

The sky above was clouded over, shrouding the night in a choking darkness. The trees round stood still and lifeless, their full leaves the only indication that it was summer and not the freezing death of winter. Even the lake was stilled, and from somewhere in the forest beyond something gave a feral howl. Otherwise there was an almost death-like peace, not a cricket, not a firefly, not even a bird made a sound above their own breathing. A chilly night wind blew, the group shuddered, and Ginny said to no one, "Gods, it wasn't like this, months ago…"

Harry was not too concerned, heading for the gates he said, "I thought Professor McGonagall had set up wards like Dumbledore had to keep the place safe from unauthorised entry. How did he get into the groundskeeper's hut?"

"You think it's there he was?" asked Lupin.

"Well it has to be… there's the water she heard right there, the lake, he brought her to Hogwarts. But she's Muggle and it let her in…" Harry replied absently, now wondering if he would need to use an unlocking charm on the gates' mighty locks.

It took him only a moment though, to realise that the others weren't helping. He turned to them impatiently, "What? We've already taken too long, gods knows what he's doing to her… come on!"

"Harry…" began Ginny slowly, looking around at the others, "We don't think she's in there."

"What? Now you think this? He's in there with her! He got in the first time, he brought Hermione back again for… what?"

"Emmeline's a Muggle Harry," Lupin began to explain, "So she can't enter Hogwarts. Didn't you notice that Hermione's parents never came here… or any Muggle-borns'? Hogwarts wouldn't let them in, Emmeline was never here."

They were not serious, they couldn't be serious. Not now, not when Percy had Hermione and they had taken too long before and he could be killing her then, they absolutely weren't.

He protested, "What if she's a witch… what if Emmeline's a witch? She was fighting the Imperius Curse; don't you have to be magical to do that?"

"One can fight the Curse Harry, you throwing it off was wonderful at fourteen but not unique," said Lupin. "Casting a Patronus was, but not fighting that Curse… maybe Emmeline is a witch, we don't know that yet- she hasn't shown any outward sign that she is one- but I can tell you that she was not here."

Harry turned this over and over again in his head, pondering, considering, refuting and eventually, with great reluctance, accepting it as it was. He didn't want to, but he knew it. Emmeline had never been here, and now, again, they still didn't know where to begin to look for her sister.

"What took you so long, mate?"

*****

If Hermione had been feeling snippy at that moment, the next words out of her mouth probably would have been: "Why didn't you tell me that before? You didn't have to kill Ron; I would have put you out of your misery a long time ago!"

But she was much too shocked then to say that.

Instead though, temporarily forgetting that she was lying someplace that appeared more and more to be a graveyard, she stammered, "W-what?"

Percy gave that sickening smile again and said, "I want you to help me die… I wish to die Miss Granger, and I believe you're the only one who can help me."

Hermione continued to gape at him then, until he walked over to where she lay and helped her upright, at which point the icy touch of his skin seemed to awaken her and she said, "I-I I'm not sure that I could, I-I… I… I don't understand…"

"I reckoned you wouldn't, not at first at least," he replied calmly, and then continuing with a tone of confidence, "but you will. What I have to tell you… before I am even finished I am very sure that you will understand, and be more than willing to grant my wish."

"How's that?" asked Hermione, and swallowed the particularly snippy remark that followed it: "Who do I look like, Merlin?"

Her shock was wearing off.

Percy gave no indication that he noticed this though, as he said gravely, "Because if you don't Miss Granger, in the end only one of us will leave this graveyard and it will not be you."

"That won't exactly help your situation," Hermione said sardonically.

"True," he agreed, "but nor would it help anyone else's either. You see, at this very moment warring inside me are two sides. One is Percy Weasley, ambitious aide to the Minister of Magic, former Hogwarts prefect and Head Boy, and the third son of Arthur and Molly Weasley of the Burrow at Ottery St Catchpole. The other, however, is something else. It's ancient, it's evil and it was probably being studied in the Department of Mysteries when my foolish other half stumbled upon it thinking it would bring him what he always wanted. Combined they have done some terrible things in the months past. If you don't kill me, and by default, it, Harry Potter will soon find himself with another Dark Wizard to kill… or rather, I must amend my earlier statement, Dark Witch."

Hermione stared at him confused a moment, not quite comprehending… and then realisation began to dawn on her face even before he said the words.

"You see Miss Granger, this evil part of me, the part that somehow kept a dead body alive all this time, the part that has no bond for blood- my own brother- it wants you. And if you do not stop it, and soon, it will have you, and may the gods have mercy on the rest of them by the time it's finished."

His dull eyes suddenly took on an unnatural gleam, his gaze piercing her, "You are an intelligent, talented, and somewhat ruthless, witch, when you want to be. The things you are capable of, were capable of even at the tender age of twelve… the things you may be capable of now… you don't want it to have that power. Unlike Percy you are a living being, with life ahead filled with possibilities. If it ever gets a hold of you… you must kill it."

Suddenly the graveyard felt ten times colder.

The waxing moon had vanished, masked in the voluminous folds of black clouds. Tall, ancient trees, twisted by weathering and age, suddenly became menacing sentries encircling doomed prisoners. The slight mist thickened almost to fog, clinging to the earth between the now barely visible gravestones giving the effect of the setting of an old black and white horror movie. Chilly, the night wind picked up, toying with her hair while cutting through her thin shirt to her skin and raising goose pimples on her arms and back.

If she were one to believe it, these were all signs that something evil was to transpire in this graveyard before the night was out.

But she had seen evil before.

It mattered not whether it be broad daylight on the brightest day or the darkest hour of a stormy night, when evil was to happen, it would. And it wanted to happen now. In that gleam in his eyes, it wanted to happen now.

She forced herself to stand, realised that for some reason her legs were incapable of taking the strain and sat down again on a broken headstone. This was impossible, incredible, unbelievable, ridiculous… and yet it was happening. Percy had stalked her, chased her and now captured her. All of that, all that time, all those things, all for now, now where he was waiting for her to… to kill him?

She choked a strange urge to laugh that had come to her throat.

She supposed she had to be grateful at the end of it. Dark Wizards usually weren't kind enough to offer their adversaries the opportunity to kill them first. Voldemort certainly wasn't that way with Harry.

He was being most polite about the whole thing, even allowing her time to think now.

Really, he was a darling.

Of course, there was just one problem.

Not thoroughly understanding why she was doing it, she steadied herself on the headstone and blurted, "I can't do magic."

He had been watching her all the while she had been taking in his speech and nodded now, "I know that… so you'll just have to find another way of doing it, and you best think fast. With each passing day, as this body… as Percy dies… that other thing grows stronger. Right now, it is Percy alone that is sparing your life. In the moment of Percy's death, whatever way you come up with, it must be the moment of its death too."

"Right," she said and swallowed heavily.

She took another moment to allow this to sink in with the rest, then sighed and said, "Well in that case… start talking… maybe there is something… that can help me figure it out from your story."

Percy stepped a little away from her, drew his wand and set a small fire between them. The flames burned bright at first, licking at the mist and the darkness and sending it scurrying with its bright orange-yellow glow, and casting long shadows on the looming trees, before settling. The wind swept through the graveyard, lowered it, whipped at the hem of Percy's tattered black robes- as dead as he appeared- and vanished with a sudden still.

She drew no closer despite her chill.

He stood then, staring into the fire, the light playing on his grotesque features and softening them slightly so that he was almost recognisable again. She was at least grateful for that, the other side in full light was unnerving. And then he began to speak.

"This all began mid-way through last year, but actually much before that, after the Triwizard Tournament, when the Second War really began. I was always an ambitious person, I can't deny that, there's no wrong in that, none at all… but I… I have to admit now, I was… somewhat too ambitious. I can see that clearest of all now… ironically when it's too late… but I can see that."

"You were there, if I'm not mistaken, came over right early in the summer so that I had to wonder if your parents didn't miss you, but of course, this is about me."

Hermione dropped her gaze to her feet and shifted uncomfortably then. Percy allowed her a moment to wallow in her guilt, and then continued.

"My father… he didn't understand… he loved Muggles too much. An obsession it was and a bad hobby if you intended to move up in the Ministry. -No offence of course- but I saw that then, I saw it clearly, and I had had enough of being associated with someone who could sink me. I chose to argue, to find my own place, and leave my family behind to go off into a world of those like me. Those like me who wanted power, who could succeed and whose hobbies were less… diminishing. My mistake was though, that I, as I said before, could be a little blind, and had chosen the absolute worst time to be so."

"The Dark Lord was back, after thirteen years, and ready to pick up where he left off and for revenge. Unfortunately- or fortunately according to how you viewed the situation- the only witness to this at the time was the same boy who was famously claimed to have defeated him as an infant. We should have known though, we should have believed him. He had the mark. He had the Killing Curse's mark on his forehead and we didn't believe him! What fools were we…" his voice trailed off.

Hermione remembered that year rather well. She still deeply resented the Ministry for what they did to Harry then and the Daily Prophet too. Spilt milk now, but she let herself revel a bit in Percy's guilt about it.

Another wind blew, flowing easily through her shirt as before and reddening her cheeks, and she fought the will to rise and go to the fire.

"Nevertheless, I went to the Ministry, managed to advance quickly enough, and especially after Mr Crouch's demise, and soon had wholly convinced myself that I had arrived. What a fool, was I…."

"I had gone nowhere, and Minister Scrimgeour just took advantage of my relation to the family well known to care for Harry Potter to try to get him to strengthen our support with the people. I have to give it to Harry though; he saw right through it and never went along. But maybe he should have, for the moment he disappeared; I fell out of favour with the Minister. As long as no one knew where you were or how to find you, I was no longer useful. And that… that led me to this…"

At this point, suddenly unable to stop herself, Hermione warned, "Don't! Don't you dare blame Harry or Ron or me for what happened to you! You did this to yourself!"

"I know that Miss Granger!" he said then, looking up from the fire with a slightly dangerous glint in his eyes, "I know what I did. I was merely thinking out loud, for, as you well know if your friend had not left we would not be standing out here having this little chat… you'd probably be dead."

Hermione looked away from him, allowing his tongue-lashing to wash over her, and then said, "I'm sorry… please…"

He looked back down into the fire and said, "No need to apologise…. As I was saying, when I lost high favour with Minister Scrimgeour, relegated to the position of a mere lackey while another from a rich old family took my place, I decided that I had to find another way to get myself as Minister of Magic. And somehow, this alternative route led me down to the Department of Mysteries. Down to the place where the Unspeakables roamed and silently studied the great mysteries of the universe… and one of them… as your friend has come to know so well… being Death."

Her breath caught and her blood ran cold. She was right; he had survived because of a Horcrux. This was it, this had to be it.

"The first trip to the department had been an order from the Minister himself, now delivered via a secretary, to supervise the security in the event the Dark Lord ever dared another Ministry invasion. It was useless though, the next time there would be an invasion the only objective was to kill and destroy. The Dark Lord had no need for it, not anymore anyway. But I digress…. That first trip down there, nothing out of the ordinary occurred; I did as I was told and I left. I was actually too busy fuming over this clear fall from favour to do anything else. But the second time though, the second time on another Ministry order, I stumbled upon the Death Chamber."

Hermione closed her eyes. She was right, it was a Horcrux. She had been right all along, it had been a Horcrux.

"Now I had never seen it before, never, just read the report of the incident involving six Hogwarts students unsurprisingly led by Harry Potter. I was not even fascinated, it had nothing to do with my career or dreams… but somehow it drew me. This was Death, the Dark Lord defied it, and possibly feared it I'm told, Harry Potter cheated it, and Professor Dumbledore… well, he was a strange old man and death would come for him soon enough, inevitably we will all die. What interest then, should I have?"

"But it drew me, I couldn't resist walking into that room after that and then every chance I got, and sometimes on breaks, just to watch, or to listen, as there were voices to be heard… and wonder. And that was the dangerous part, when everything began to change, when I began to wonder…"

"The question came simply one day, and so innocent did it appear. What if I could… if I could "stopper death" as in Professor Snape's First Year Potions speech, but in this case put it to an actual stop? How many men before I had pondered the same thing, to live forever? The Unspeakables studied its possibility. Nicolas Flamel had actually done it with the Philosopher's Stone. So there was nothing wrong with just wondering, but… if I could do that too, I could do anything. It wouldn't matter how long it took me to become Minister of Magic, I could wait. And once I was Minister, I could be in power for as long as I pleased or they wanted me to be. Innocent questions- I was not even an Unspeakable, wasn't even sure how one became one in the first place- but dangerous ponderings they were. These were not the questions, the thoughts to have in the Department of Mysteries where anything possible was studied. These were not the thoughts at all…"

Hermione interrupted at this point, forgetting the cold, dark graveyard with that single fire, the heavy, encroaching mist, his warning of before, even her fear of being alone with him now, to ask, "How did you do it then?"

As soon as she asked it she blushed nervously at the earnestness that had appeared in her voice. But she was enthralled by this story, and she had to admit, a part of her wanted to know and not at all for the benefits to mankind. Her curious mind was speedily at work.

Dangerous ponderings indeed, this is where Tom Riddle came along wasn't it?

Percy noticed this and smiled, "I don't think so Miss Granger… let that remain a mystery to you… it is still mostly to me, I'm not even sure of how myself. More than once I was tempted to approach an Unspeakable with the questions I had. More than once too, I had squashed them when I thought of how this had nothing to do with my plans despite sometimes dark designs in my ambitious mind. What a dangerous hobby I was developing on my own… but then, I am my father's son. I do know however, that eventually, on one of my trips down into the department… someone died. I never found out whom, and it was quickly silenced, but I do know that it happened… after all, how else does one acquire a Horcrux?"

As he said this Hermione gasped- here was absolute confirmation- and said, without really thinking, "You have to kill someone… it splits the soul… Harry found that out… and then… at Grimmauld Place, there was a book…. When you kill someone, it's an act against nature itself… you become… something else… not natural… your soul is weakest… or so the book says… and you… the incantation… words… they were in ancient tongue…"

"They translate simply "ipse excessum ego vita" or "with death I live", but that is merely a part of the incantation, it is much longer and I have no desire to repeat it. I'm not even sure how I came to know it myself…. You know too much though, far too much, you should not know that… but you do and that is why, I guess, you are the only one who can help me."

He looked over at Hermione, studying her as she mused over his words, and then rounded the fire to her. She looked up startled, stood shakily, intending to run, but didn't, and he took her hand, his still icy, and led her closer to the fire. Once she was standing before it he said, "Warm yourself… you look cold…"

She slumped to the ground beside the flames, silently relishing in their burning touch, and then noticed that the mist had become heavier. It was darkening even more too, so that the fire stood out as a beacon in the graveyard.

For some reason she had a feeling they were not alone tonight. And what was worse, she didn't know why.

Percy was speaking again.

"At first I noticed nothing different. I went on with my work at the Ministry, visited the department often, though now a few of the Unspeakables had come to know my name, again, something else I am not sure of. Anyway, this somehow led to my father discovering the truth, by which time I knew it too and was actually proud of myself… but again, at first nothing was different."

"There was some weakness, and delirium too, but I merely thought I had taken ill. I was spending so much time in the dungeon depths, breathing the same old air, so close to the most perilous of things… surely I had gotten a cold. And my dangerous musings increased with new possibilities on how I could achieve my ends, combining stopping death and my rise to power. But again, it was nothing. I know now though, that those were possibly the symptoms of one splitting their soul, temporary of course, but they were there."

"When I recovered from that I went on as normal… and then on another trip to the Department, I was approached by an Unspeakable. Now this one had observed me, had been doing so since I first casually strolled into the Death Chamber, investigated what had happened, and somehow decided that I was responsible for the death in the department. I was uncontrollably outraged at being accused- that should have been a clue that something else was the matter- but thought then that since I wanted to be Minister of Magic, and that those trips down there had nothing to do with that despite the aforementioned; these accusations would certainly taint me if they got out… and so I killed him."

Hermione's gaze snapped up at him but he did not notice her.

"I believe that was my second kill. The first was accidental, or… well I can't exactly remember, but I hadn't intentionally killed that person. I know I did not. I'm sure of it! But this one, I couldn't let him ruin that which I had worked so hard for, so… he had to die."

"But this death did not go unnoticed or carefully concealed though. This was different from the first, not at all work-related… now that I think about it, there was something to that first kill… I could not have… not just like that…. But anyway, this one was noticed, and the rumours… the rumours began to spread."

"I will never know why, I honestly won't, why then those rumours gave me some form of perverse pleasure. I will never understand why I at times began to do my best to fuel them. Why I even allowed them to reach my father and possibly the Minister's ears, but I did. Or maybe I do, I was at this point beginning to listen to my thoughts and add to them. I even began to formulate plans on how the two combined could work…. Neither man though, was pleased about this."

"The Minister, seeking to secure his position, further began to distance himself from me. As, I admit, did many others. I had gone down there and meddled with that… no one just does that and walks away unscathed. The Unspeakables can of course, but they are not known in general, their anonymity securing their places in society. Though I didn't have many friends to begin with, I still had no such luxury."

"My father then, and I should have been grateful, became the only person who would approach me properly. Arthur Weasley, let it never be forgotten, loved his children, even to the point of being a little too indulgent, but he loved us all. Even after our argument, our estrangement, he still wanted to be there for me at my lowest point. I should have been grateful, oh I should have been, but I was too far gone by then and rejected every attempt. And then he found out about the rumours… and I believe you know the end of our last…"

He finally looked to Hermione again, allowing his gaze to linger long enough for her to become self-conscious, before moving away and beginning to pace. The tiny echoes of his footsteps, crushing dead leaves and twigs resonated through the night and awakened, once again, the feeling that they were not alone.

Long gone though, were thoughts of this along with every other concern. Well maybe not the cold, she still felt that, she just wasn't that concerned about it anymore.

Finally, Percy began to speak again.

"It was the most curious thing- dying- just… simply curious. There I was, at the mercy of that evil insane witch, about to have my life ended, and all I could think of was every moment of my life to that point. My siblings, my parents, my home, summers, winters, Christmases, birthdays, school… anything and everything. I also never felt so alive. My senses were heightened, strangely enough, so that I could smell my father's cologne and a bit of my mother in his robes as he lay beside me. I felt the air, the floor, the "magic" of that moment. I could taste the last meal my mother made. I could see, through eyes that had no need for glasses, every inch of that office, every detail down the smallest crevice in the wall… and then I could hear clearly the pure hatred in her voice as she uttered the curse and I fell into nothingness. I was dying and I had died. Or so I thought."

He stopped pacing, stretched out his hands and examined them, and his wild hair suddenly dropped lankly onto his shoulders. Once more his features became grotesque, and with their setting in the graveyard he now became the creature at the centre of that old movie.

But what do they call him? He was not an Inferi or a ghoul or a ghost or even a vampire. He was just… there…. He had died; his soul just hadn't acknowledged this yet. Hermione wasn't even sure why she was thinking about this then, but still what do they call him?

"Waking up after… it shocked me. I was quite sure that the curse had killed me… and yet here I was sitting up on the floor looking around at the other bodies wondering what had happened. I would remember eventually though, and make Bellatrix pay, but for the time being, I was just shocked. And then too, scared… so very scared that I ran at once, got as far as I could away so that I would figure this out."

"For days I existed in a world where I was most aware and then most ignorant to everything. My mind was taking its time to understand the complexities of a situation where I could breathe, where my heart pounded in my chest, and my skin was cold and my body beginning to decay. I don't know why this was happening to me, it surely had not happened to anyone else, but it was. And not only that… I was apparently not alone in my body. When the other half of my soul left that Horcrux, it brought something else, something that wanted the power I craved with more fervour than I could imagine and it would stop at nothing to have it."

The gleam returned to his eyes, and though her throat clenched, Hermione refused to let it unsettle her. It would not have her, it could not have her… and maybe… maybe she would not let it have him either….

"Once I was clear on three things then, that first I was dead, second, that I had somehow created a Horcrux- an object of darkest evil- and used it, and third that I now had company, the part of me still human, still Percy, determined that I had to die. My companion may not agree with me, but I am, for the moment, the stronger, and Miss Granger, I want to die. I want to end this once and for all. I should have died with my father in the building that night, he had let in the Death Eaters to make sure of it, but I didn't. Help me, help him finish what he started, and help me die."

He had turned to her then, a pleading look in his eyes, and she now found an errant tear rolling down her cheek.
She would not let it have her; she would not let it have him….

He went to where she still sat by the fire, knelt slowly, and with a halting hand, gently brushed it away. It was a useless act though, for more began to spill.

Her breath hitched, she turned her face to the fire, steeled her nerve, and asked, "W-why… why did you kill Ron?"

His hand had come to trace her chin, bony fingers and broken, overgrown, gangrened fingernails, and now dropped to his side. He replied quietly, "As I said before, I have a companion, and it is dangerous. Once I had made the decision to die… at times it could be rather helpful. Ron… my brother was in my way… so I… I had to kill him."

His voice faltered and he sighed, and he sank his face into his palm.

"My brother… my blood… I held him as an infant, I taught him things, even when he didn't want to learn, I defended him, as all of us did each other, I protected him, even trying to do so in that letter in your Fifth Year…- what a joke- and then I stared him in the eye and killed him…. Oh gods…"

His hand fell away from his face, and he continued, "For that alone I should die now… but I can't. I so desperately want to, but I can't…. At least I can think that he's forgiven me somehow, even though knowing Ron that could be wishful thinking; I still like to think that. And more than that, he's waiting for me, with our father, waiting for me beyond the veil…. (He turned to Hermione again) So help me Miss Granger, help me go to him…"

Hermione's throat constricted, she took in a breath to free it but then began to cry. Warm tears flowing freely, she cried at first in soft, strangled noises, interrupted by gasps for air but then they turned to full fledged sobs and she buried her face into her hands. Oddly, she didn't know why she was doing it, why then she couldn't be angry or resentful, all she felt was… pity.

She would not let it have her, it had already taken away so much, and she would not let it have him either….

Percy made no attempt to comfort her. He just remained where he knelt, watching her cry, and giving her time. But it was limited.

When he thought that she had had enough, he asked, "So now Miss Granger, now you know what happened to me. What I've done. You can choose to believe it or not, I know it is strange. And it is not everyday that one as I would approach someone with the offer to kill them but I do so to you and ask that you do it, somehow. Your magic is diminished, we have no books around and the ones I've found are useless and I fear that allowing you to go to Grimmauld Place or elsewhere would either take too long or you won't return. I can assure you that I made no more of those Horcruxes, but you could check later just to be sure. And Mr Potter's method, though effective for the Dark Lord, may just release the evil to him or you, either way dooming the rest of you. So then… how do I die?"

Hermione at first shook her head. What was she going to tell him? From what she had read and come to believe with Voldemort, destroy the wizard and the Horcruxes and he was gone. He'd already listed the number of things they couldn't do, he claimed their time was limited, and he seemed to be at the end of his rope. What could she possibly tell him to do?

And then she saw the mist.

It was almost too convenient and too easy and yet….

There it was encircling them all along, white, heavy and cold… and unnatural for a night of mid-August. Only one other time had she seen mist like this… and that could mean only one thing.

There were Dementors nearby.

Those evil, black cloaked, wraith-like Dark Creatures who survived on torment and sorrow, and at times administered a fatal gift, a kiss that drew out your soul….

One kiss, and whatever it was within him, that had come with his soul would go to… one kiss and it would be over.

So convenient… so easy… so simple….

Drying her eyes, and once again gathering her nerve, knowing, and dreading what would have to occur, she said, "I-I… I think I have an idea…"

The almost eager look in Percy's eyes then nearly took her will but she held on to it as best she could. She had to do it. He was giving her a chance to save herself and everyone else.

She would not let it have her; she would not let it have him….

Of course, ironically, it was then that she most understood something of Harry's position in the last days of the war. Those were days when she herself began to pull away but resented him doing the same. Those were times when she should have been at his side, like Ron, but was too busy "protecting her heart".

It was one life for many… and then her life for the Wizarding world, (for she would most certainly die too once the Dementors arrived), for the children she would never have, for the Weasleys, for Emmeline and the life she had ahead of her, for Harry… and whoever would eventually make him happy… even if that person was Ginny…. (When had they stopped being friends?)

Her parents, Mr Weasley, Professor Dumbledore, Sirius, Harry's parents and Ron would be waiting for them beyond the veil… all they had to do now was go to them….

One life for many, a small price to pay….

*****

Drawing the Dementors to them in the graveyard had been remarkably easy when it came down to it. All she really had to do was focus whatever magical energy she had left on the worst, most depressing thoughts in her- her love-loss over Harry and then her imminent death that meant she would never see Emmeline grow up- and they came running, greedily. Percy actually smiled when he saw them, and not the sickly smiles before, a real, true, Percy Weasley-smile, and only one achieved by a man who was to finally have that which he had sought for so long.

She was glad that he could be so happy about the whole thing, at least one of them would be.

She had to admit though, that she was a bit nettled at him too. Would she ever meet someone who would not so readily follow her instruction? When she told him her idea of using Dementors to kill him, to draw out his soul, and possibly the dark, whatever it was, in him too, he simply asked where they were to find Dementors. He didn't even listen when she said that he would not really be dead, that he would be worse than dead, and that the Killing Curse would still be required to finally put him out of his misery.

But then, he probably didn't care. And that was when she let that strange laugh out, causing him to stare at her curiously a bit. He was going to die, and possibly in most horrible fashion, and he didn't care.

The arrival of the Dementors too, could not have been missed. The fire Percy had set immediately went out. The mist rose higher, parted and the earth where it lay was left coated in an unseasonable frost. The air grew so cold that it burned her nostrils, fingers and cheeks; she felt them redden… and then spied her executioners gliding mutely into the graveyard towards them.

One life for many, a small price to pay… one life for many, a small price to pay… one life for many, a small price to pay….

Curiously, the Dementors went to Percy first. Enclosing him in a circle of black, fluttery, tattered cloaks, they shrieked wildly and one by one began to draw from him what little life and warmth he had left.

His wild hair flew about his head and then fell limp again. His dull brown eyes lit up a moment and then went dull again. All colour fled his skin.

His wand fell softly to the grass.

And then at random, one separated itself from the group, clamped its thin, wide mouth over his own, and with a horrible sucking sound, kissed him.

A moment later he fell to the ground, truly undead, and they shared their ghastly meal, a strange white light… and something brilliant green.

She looked away then, she didn't need to see them to know that they were greedily devouring both.

It never occurred to Hermione to run away.

It never even came to her to use her portkey-belt.

When they turned to her then, not at all satisfied, she simply slipped to the ground beside the broken tombstone that had been her seat earlier. She had no fight left, nor the will to, it had been hours since Percy took her, the others were not coming.

But as they glided over then, and she lay on the cold, ice-cast earth staring numbly up at them, something happened.

Just as Percy had said before, that in the moment one is dying they can recall the memories of their life, so hers came to her.

"I don't like the horse Daddy, can I go home? I don't want to ride the horse!"

"It's "Mummy" Emmeline, not "Mama", "Mummy", say "Mummy" Emmeline."

"Oh hello sir, good afternoon, what is this place called Hogwarts? I've been reading a lot since I got my letter but I can't seem to find it anywhere!"

"Have you ever seen books like this before Mother? Look at this one, Fantastic Creatures and Where to Find Them, and A Standard Book of Spells: Grade One, but I guess I will have to read them- and learn them- considering that I will be attending Hogwarts with all those other magical children who probably know much more than I do already."

She could still smell the heavy scent of the unwashed horses in the enclosure, blithely feeding on the sun-kissed grass of late spring, and the terrible, big brown one that had come and snorted loudly beside her. She could still see the wide-eyed one year old staring curiously up at her as she fixed the powder- just enough to prevent a rash, not too much to choke her- as she changed her diaper and tried to instruct her. She could clearly remember that brilliant, royal blue, pin-striped suit of the gentleman who had come to tell her of Hogwarts. She could still feel the rough, battered covers of those books, their weak, yellowed pages, their old, powerful words….

Curious… she never thought she would forget them and she had.

"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one."

"Oh, honestly, don't you two read? Look- read that, there."

"Me! Books! And cleverness! There are more important things- friendship and bravery and- oh Harry- Be careful!"

Harry and Ron on the train, Harry and Ron just as they figured out about- or rather, she had figured out about- the Philosopher's Stone, Harry just as he was about to face Voldemort for the second time in his life.

That was how she had forgotten the first things, they, they came and pushed them away.

She never did finish that speech, but if anyone wanted to know, it was going to be "friendship and bravery and love". Of course, there was also "hope". For Harry, as long as she could manage it, there was always going to be hope.

"What happened to your glasses? Hello Hagrid- Oh it's wonderful to see you two again- Are you coming into Gringotts, Harry?"

"A deathday party? I bet there aren't many living people who can say they've been to one of those- it'll be fascinating!"

"You solved it! You solved it!"

She was encircled as they had done to Percy just a few feet away from her then. Lazily, she turned her eyes to follow them, wondering which of the group would break away first and kiss her.

Which of them would be her personal executioner?

Staring at them then though, she remembered eyes. A pair of large, yellow, snake eyes, with looks that could kill, but behind the "safety" of a mirror turn one almost to stone instead. Neither she nor Ginny would forget that year, she was sure of it.

But still, for now, which would it be now to finish what that snake had started?

"Sirius Black escaped to come after you? Oh Harry… you'll have to be really, really careful. Don't go looking for trouble, Harry-"

"Ron- come on- back under the cloak- Dumbledore- the Minister- they'll be coming back out in a minute-"

"What did you do? You said you were only going to keep a lookout!"

"I know, but I can't stand another year like that one. That Time Turner, it was driving me mad. I've handed it in. Without Muggle Studies and Divination, I'll be able to have a normal schedule again."

Oh Crookshanks, if he had been here, if he had not fallen, if it had been Pettigrew instead… she would have known, they would have known. Of course a Time Turner was more practical now. She could have gone back and warned Ron, warned them all of what was going to happen.

Stop it before it started.

Maybe even get Voldemort while she was at it. But that might change nothing either, someone else would have come to take his place. And, guiltily she thought that everything would change so much that she might never meet Harry. And that was a thought she was not sure she could stand.

"He looks really grumpy,"

"Oh Harry, you're not going to pay attention to anything that old fraud says?"

"I'll show you when we get there- oh come on, quick-"

"Getting his comeuppance for sacking Winky, isn't he? I bet he wishes he hadn't done it now- bet he feels different now she's not there to look after him."

"Oh not electronic bugs, no you see… Rita Skeeter is an unregistered Animagus. She can turn into a beetle."

There was disturbance somewhere nearby. She could hear the dead leaves and twigs being crushed. The Dementors were shrieking and the mist was covering her, almost concealing her from view.

That was good; she didn't need to see them as they killed her. Just do the act and that was good enough. End it quickly and that was good enough.

"They were bound to clear you. There was no case against you, none at all…."

"I listen, Ron,"

"I know you're in there, will you please come out? I want to talk to you."

"You know, I think Ron might do better without Fred and George around. They never exactly gave him a lot of confidence…."

"No… well… all right… I didn't, but why does he have to make life so difficult for himself- for us?"

"What do you mean, `in there'? There isn't any `in there', it's just an archway, there's no room for anybody to be there- Harry, stop it, come away-"

"Really soon, Harry, we promise."

Promises, where had she heard something of promises before?

Oh why didn't she run away? She had all the time in the world when they were kissing Percy and all she did was stand there. What kind of Gryffindor was she anyway?

Oh that's right; a Gryffindor would not run away. She had been Percy's silent support as he "died", and he- now lost nearby in the white mist- was waiting for her to join him before they crossed the veil to their families and friends.

"Ron, don't hit him!"

"Its liquid luck, it makes you lucky!"

"Hagrid, we really wanted to carry on with Care of Magical Creatures, you know."

"She'll ban you from the library if you're not careful. Why did you have to bring that stupid book?"

"I don't believe this, you're actually defending-"

"I knew you were going to say that. But then what will you do?"

"You said to us once before, that there was time to turn back if we wanted to. We've had time, haven't we?"

Harry.

That's where she had heard of promises before. She had done something, or maybe he had made a promise. Well, she wasn't sure now but she knew that there was something involving a promise between them.

That had been one of them. It was an unspoken promise that neither she nor Ron would ever leave him… funny, they had both broken it. Or at least Ron had, she was going to break hers now.

"Oh Harry, if you want some time to yourself, we'll let you have it, but we'll be just back here if you need us. We're not going anywhere until you're ready."

"Don't just touch it Ron, you saw Professor Dumbledore's hand!"

"Professor Snape is coming to the Order meeting tonight, and you two will behave. I know… I know what he did is unforgivable, and he will pay for it, but for now, for the war, you two behave."

"Ipse excessum ego vita… what… `With death I live'- I suppose it's fitting though, that's what it is- Harry…? What happened to Ron and you?"

"That's not funny. I don't care that you two can sit here and joke about this as if it's the most natural thing in the world but it isn't. It's not funny at all!"

"We'll be right here waiting when you get back!"

"Ron… who's… Percy…?"

The disturbance had quieted, or ended, or maybe… well she didn't know, she couldn't be sure of anything anymore. The Dementors had begun to draw from her as they had done to Percy. They flew in a circle, swooped down and opened their mouths, like a vacuum they drew life from her leaving her cold, so very cold, and then they flew away.

How could Percy have smiled, this was far from pleasant. With each attack she felt herself becoming weaker. Her lids became heavier, her limbs fell flaccidly from her torso, and it pained her chest to move to breathe. They were making her more pliable for attack, though it was far from necessary; she had accepted this all along.

"Oh Harry, I didn't, I never meant to upset you, I just… yesterday I was sad, really sad… I still am too… but you don't have to worry about those things anymore, as long as we are together, like I promised you, nothing is going to hurt us."

And just then she remembered the promise. Just as one tall, and possibly more terrifying than the others, Dementor broke free from the pack, descended over her sedate form, put its dead fingers to her cheeks- they were no longer cold, her temperature was probably the same as its- and clamped that awful mouth over hers, she remembered it.

She had made a promise. She had made another promise to Harry, and now she was breaking it.

"I think we're together forever Harry, no, I know it. Nothing is going to take me away from you. We'll hurt, we'll cry, but then we'll move on, like he would have wanted us to, and nothing, is going to stop me, from being with you."

She didn't want to break it. No one should break promises to Harry, they hurt him too much. But she couldn't move to free herself, and even if she could she would have never escaped. She didn't want to break her promise, and here she was doing it now.

She hoped he would forgive her. This, more than everything else, was failing him. Oh, she hoped he would forgive her.

"EXPECTO…"

"…PATRONUM!" yelled that voice from far away, another memory no doubt. She could feel herself slipping away from her body, the Dementor's icy, bony lips still firmly clamped round her mouth.

But it was the most pleasant feeling in the world too, dying, scary and yet pleasant. Where she was going she knew she would have no worries, no pain, no more tears, no more fear, she would finally have peace. The tears stopped flowing then and she smiled, Ron had felt no pain.

"What are we going to do now?"

One life for many, a small price to pay….

Something was wrong though, the connection was breaking. She wasn't floating away anymore… what was going on… what happened… why wasn't she floating away?

Heavy lids forced themselves open, but only for a moment. A most welcome darkness was pulling at her, and she had to go into it. But just before she did, before this cold, scary world fell away, she saw him.

Her saviour, her life, her heart, he stood tall under the blaze of some unearthly light like the "Knight-In-Shining-Armour" of fairy tales and Witch Weekly.

But she only saw Harry, not that knight.

Scrawny, nineteen now, round-rimmed glasses, years of torment silently written on his face, and yet still determination etched in those bright green eyes.

And then too, the shadow of someone tall with red hair and blue eyes, standing beside him, grinning with pride….

How lovely.

It was the only thing she could ever wish to see before she died.


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