From the Past

Disclaimer: None of this is mine, blah blah blah, it all belongs to JKRowling and if you don't know that then why are you reading it?

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Slowly, quietly, Harry crept through the abandoned corridors. Each footfall muffled by the weight of the invisibility cloak shrouding him. His heart was still pounding from the -almost- fateful encounter with Mrs. Norris minutes before. Around him the inhabitants of several portraits slept peacefully, oblivious to the tension in the atmosphere. A newcomer to the castle would have thought all was well, but Harry knew Hogwarts and something wasn't right. There was an itchy feeling to the air that made his skin tingle. At this hour, the owls should have been swooping around the grounds, hunting for an unwary supper. But Harry, from his vantage point up in the castle, could see that the grounds were deserted. Or were they? What was that, down by the forest? Tiptoeing up to the window, Harry pressed his face against the glass to get a better look. After several tense moments he finally caught another glimpse of what he was looking for. There! Down on the fringes of the forest, almost hidden between the gnarled trunks of several particularly old trees, a flickering light cast rippling shadows on the smooth lawns. He hesitated for barely a moment before padding towards the Entrance Hall.

Something was seriously wrong

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Something's wrong. Hermione sat bolt upright in bed sweating as though she had just run the seven flights up to the Astronomy Tower. The air felt sour, and she had a niggling feeling that someone was in danger. After nearly seven years that meant only one thing.

“Harry!” she croaked, throwing back the bed covers. As she reached for her dressing gown, she glanced of the window and saw a small, black robed figure streaking full pelt towards the forest. Guessing who the figure must be Hermione raced out of the dormitory passed her sleeping peers, and without retrieving her wand dashed down the stairs and across the common room. As she struggled through the she was in no mood for the Fat Lady's sardonic, “Bit late for a stroll isn't it?” Hermione didn't bother to reply, but carried on running as quietly as possible down to the Entrance Hall. A tiny part of her registered the fact that she would be in serious trouble if she was caught running around the school late at night, a part that still spoke as the person she was before she had met Harry and Ron. She quashed the feeling and on reaching the great arched doorway she silently slipped back the bolts that secured it and vanished out into the night.

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AN: Hope you like it; I'm not so good at writing all this tense spooky stuff. It does get better though I promise - or at least I think it does! This was the first fic I wrote so I just thought I'd post it. Please tell me if you like it so I know whether to post the rest!

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Bonfire

Harry stood, frozen at the edge of the forest. The source of the strange light was now fairly obvious. A huge bonfire, burning white hot with magical energy, stood scant yards away from him. The intense heat was beating down on him in waves and he could almost feel his eyebrows singeing. However there was no one in sight, so who conjured the fire? Actually scrap that, he thought, why would they bother to conjure a fire?

Carefully, so as not to alert anyone of his presence, he began to skirt round the blaze, all the while searching the forest for any signs of life. The fire was twice as wide as he was tall, and at least three times as high, it must have taken some time to build, or at least, he amended himself, to have found all the wood and levitate it here. Gradually he became aware of a presence in the forest. He could feel that someone was there, watching him, waiting. But waiting for what? Casually he pretended to scan the trees once more, but all the while concentrating all his attention on the spot where he felt the mystery intruder was. Was that…? There, just there he was almost sure that -

A sudden shout behind him made Harry whip round. Someone was running towards him from the castle. Not wanting to take any chances, he raised his wand into the guard position and started to search for a spell that would help him if he was attacked. As the figure ran into the aura of light cast by the flames, Harry grinned, momentarily forgetting his worries about the figure in the forest, and lowered his wand. It was Hermione.

His grin vanished when she came within hearing range.

“Harry WHAT do you think you are doing?! Are you completely out of your mind, wandering around outside at night, especially at a time like this, you could get into trouble! Not just from school either - don't give me that look you know exactly what I mean. What's the matter with…” Suddenly she stopped and all the colour drained from her face. For a second Harry thought she might faint, then he noticed that her eyes and gone wide and were staring fixedly at a point just above his left shoulder.

Dreading what he might find, Harry slowly turned around and discovered himself staring into a pair of tortured, unforgiving red eyes.

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Hermione emitted an odd squeaking sound and reached out to Harry for reassurance. His hand was cold and slightly sweaty, but she clasped it tightly anyway and drew closer to him. Her brain seemed to have jammed somewhere between realising who was before them and fear for Harry's safety. Oddly she felt nothing for herself, or perhaps it wasn't so odd, as Harry usually came first in her life. Finally she found her voice and, saying the first thing that came into her head, whispered, “how did you get here?”

Those merciless eyes slid from Harry to Hermione and his mouth twitched in what she supposed was amusement, but looked more like a pained grimace. “Hermione,” he laughed, “I should have thought that would have been obvious, I took the Knight Bus!”

Harry blinked and seemed to come out of a trance. Raising his wand he said quite calmly “Hermione, get behind me.”

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He hoped she wouldn't cause a fuss, but he needed to do this on his own. He had always known he would have to face this alone. To his surprise and not inconsiderable relief, she simply kissed him on the cheek and breathed, “Harry I once told you that you were a great wizard, I meant it you know,” before stepping away from him.

Slightly comforted by her words he turned to face the tall figure standing smirking beside the huge bonfire.

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Last Chances

Hermione stood biting her lip, watching the two of them. She was fighting the impulse to scream and drag Harry back, but she knew he had to do this on his own, if she interfered now he would never forgive her. Slowly the two men in front of her raised their wands. “Are you ready to die Harry?”

“No,” Harry replied, “I'm going to try and save you.” Hermione personally thought that the skeletal looking man, so different from the boy he had once been, was way beyond redemption. But then Harry had always managed to achieve the impossible. The cloaked figure by the fire obviously thought he was past it too, “don't be stupid Harry, we both know you're no match for my new power's.” With that he attacked. Hermione's nails dug into her palms as jets of light flew between the two men, some of them only narrowly avoiding her. She watched in increasing panic as Harry ducked and dived around the fire, red light streaming from the end of his wand. He was screaming something, but she couldn't make out what it was. The fight was clearly not going in his favour, every time he found an opening to attack amongst the barrage of curses he faced, his opponent would flick his wand and deflect Harry's spell easily. Hermione could see he was tiring; his reactions were becoming slower and the spells less frequent. It did not look good.

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Harry paused, panting. He could feel his energy being sapped by one of the curses he hadn't managed to dodge. He looked up into those cold red eyes filled with hatred and remembered the last time he had seen him.

It had been at Halloween the previous year and Harry had been visiting Hagrid during a free period. Hagrid had taken him to see another of his many “pets” in the forest and before Harry could react, he was lying dead at his feet and the cloaked figure was vanishing into the shadows. Two days later he had received a letter from Mrs. Weasley saying that Lupin had been killed by the same person. At the time Harry had been all set to storm out of the Great Hall after him and make him pay for the lives he had taken. But Hermione had become so distressed and begged him not to go that he had decided against taking immediate action. Instead he had watched all of his friends like a hawk and never allowed them to stray far from the castle. Especially Hermione. If something happened to her He would go mad.

Hermione. She was standing mere feet behind him, he could hear her breathing steadily, watching his every move. What if she got hurt? He would never forgive himself, he had to end this now. “EXPELLIARMUS!” But he wasn't quick enough, a sharp twitch of his adversary's wand and his spell came flying back to hit him squarely in the chest.

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Hermione watched Harry soar past her almost in slow motion. He landed near the very edge of the forest and scrambled backwards away from his advancing attacker. With a clatter his wand landed almost at her feet.

If possible the whole situation had gone from bad to worse in a matter of seconds. Harry was now lying sprawled at the base of the tree, completely defenceless, with his aggressor standing in front of him, wand raised. He appeared to be saying something, but Hermione couldn't hear what it was over the crackle of the fire. She knew she should do something; find a way to help Harry; as it was she was almost paralysed with terror.

No, she had to get a grip on herself if she didn't do something right now, Harry was going to die. She knew she might well be killed in any foolish attempt to save him, but she had nearly died for him so many times before. She loved him too much to desert him now - loved him… was that how she felt? Hermione didn't have any time to ponder these newly discovered feelings, for at that moment she noticed Harry's wand lying on the ground beside her.

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Harry's brain was racing as he looked up into those terrifying red eyes. There had to be a way out, a way to stop this madness before it was too late. He tried hard to ignore the tiny part of himself that told him it was already to late: that he was going to die here.

“You are going to die now Harry,” it wasn't a question or a choice, the man before him was simply stating the facts. “You're unarmed and cornered, you've nowhere to run. You see Harry I know you too well. I knew you'd come running when you saw my signal fire; I knew that Miss-Know-It-All here would follow you. I knew that you'd fight me in the end, just like I knew that I would defeat you. Convenient all this planning ahead isn't it?”

Harry stared up at him with a strange mixture of emotions. Anger and fear warred with pity and hope. He wasn't dead yet, perhaps he could buy himself some time. “Why?” he whispered.

“I'll tell you why Harry, you had everything I always wanted and I was sick and tired of it. So I'm taking away everything you've ever loved and you can see what it's like to be me for a change and never have anything! First Hagrid, then Lupin and now-“ he paused as though for dramatic effect, “it's her turn!”

Harry's insides turned to ice at his words. He threw a terrified glance over the man's shoulder to see Hermione crouched on the grass near the fire. “No,” he gasped. “Please, I'll do anything, don't hurt her. Please!”

His pleas were greeted by a harsh laugh. “Too late to beg Potter.” With that he raised his wand.

“EXPELLIARMUS!”

For a heartbeat Harry was completely confused until he realised these words had not come from the man in front of him. As his attacker flew past him, Hermione was revealed standing several feet away, Harry's wand clutched tightly in her hand. He barely had time to be relieved before there was a sickening crunch followed by a dull thud.

Harry got up and raced over to the cloaked figure, lying prone at the base of another tree, Hermione hot on his heels. He looked down in horror and revulsion at the remains of the man's smashed skull. When he spoke his voice sounded distant and far away. “Hermione, you killed him… You killed Ron.”

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AN: If you're confused by the story so far, don't worry, all will be revealed. Sorry the first two chapters were so short, but it couldn't be helped.

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Truth

Hermione let the wand slip from her numb fingers as she stared down at the pale face under a shock of bright red hair. She wasn't sure what she was supposed to feel, was she supposed to feel remorse or relief or guilt? Satisfaction or grief? She had saved the man she loved, but at the expense of the man she had once been in love with. The deaths of her friends had been avenged by the killing of someone who had been her best friend for six long years. Dimly she was aware that her brain seemed to have stopped functioning. She was incapable of doing anything, feeling anything; all she could do was stare down at Ron's broken, lifeless body. Part of her, the part that had held out a hope for his redemption, wished she could have turned back the clock and let him live.

But then Harry would have died.

Was it worth it, if she could have done everything over would she really have behaved differently? She tried to think of a way, of a time when she could have saved them both. But that time was long gone. Could it ever really have been possible?

Finally she could take no more; with a strangled sob she turned away and buried her head in Harry's shoulder. Feeling his strong arms close around her and realizing that she had very nearly lost him forever, Hermione broke down completely.

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Harry simply stood there, stroking her hair without really registering what he was doing. Ron was dead. The first real friend he had ever had, was gone. He wasn't sure whether or not to be happy that Ron was now at peace and free from the influence of evil. A part of him wanted to bring him back no matter what the cost. After a few moments, Hermione lifted her tear stained face from his shoulder.

“Harry, what have I done?”

At first he wasn't sure what to say, couldn't find the words within him. He wanted to tell her it would be alright, but even in his head the words sounded hollow and meaningless. He could think of no was to answer, no way to comfort her. He wished he could take it all back, everything that had passed in this last miserable, wretched year. Thinking back on it the truth dawned on him and he looked down at her with a sad smile.

“You didn't kill Ron, Hermione. The Ron we knew died last summer, he condemned himself then. You didn't mean to kill him, it was an accident; you were trying to protect me. Besides, now he's free of Voldemort's influence and the bitterness and hatred that's consumed him all year.”

He remembered his thought from a moment before. And tenderly traced the tracks of her tears.

“You've given him peace Hermione.”

“But you were trying to save him! If I hadn't been so stupid, if I hadn't interfered -”

Here Harry cut her off. “Hermione, if you hadn't stepped in when you did, I'd be dead now and so would you. It was too late for Ron, this was the only way to save him - I - I can see that now.”

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Hermione looked up at Harry's face. A lone tear was meandering down his cheek, giving a vulnerable appearance to his face that he had lost in the past few years. How did he always manage to be so strong, how did he always know what was the right thing to say to make her feel better? Because he was right. She could see that. She knew she had done the right thing by stopping what Ron had become from destroying more lives. But it only made her feel slightly better. No matter what Harry said, she had been the one to point the wand and utter the spell. There was no escaping that.

The sound of Harry's voice brought her out of her reverie.

“We should take him up to McGonagall, she'll need to inform Mrs Weasley…” His voice cracked, “and Ginny'll have to be told.”

Hermione nodded mutely, stepping out of his embrace and picking his wand up for him. As she handed it back he looked her in the eye and gently brushed her lips with a fleeting kiss, then turned to the task in hand. Typical of Harry, she thought, always putting The Cause before himself. She watched as he conjured a stretcher and levitated Ron's body onto it. As she swished and flicked his wand, the ghost of a smile flitted across Hermione's face as she remembered happier times before Voldemort entered their lives.

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