Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Harry Potter but I do own this little plot.
Author's note: This chapter is for Yuner, who I can always go to when I need help in my fics, even if she is from a different ship. Thank you dear!
The Boy-Who-Lived No More?
Harry Potter: Dead Or Alive?
The Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly all had headlines like these right now, and she was seriously getting sick of them. Hermione folded the newspaper so that the headline wouldn't show and flipped the magazine so that it was face down. Since the time they'd been back, they'd been bombarded with requests for interviews but Hermione and Ron had refused everything and now the speculations were getting wilder by the day.
Dropping the newspaper on the floor, she sighed, leaning back in the plush wing chair. For about 2 weeks now, they'd been back. And still there had been no sign of Harry. It was almost as if he had dropped off the face of the earth, which Hermione was almost inclined to believe at times. It felt almost surreal at times that this whole nightmare involving Voldermort was over at long last.
But another one had begun.
Standing up, she headed up the creaky stairs of Grimauld Place to her room to change into something more suitable. Since Harry had been declared missing, the entire Order, along with Hermione and Ron had been going back to search for Harry, for anything that might have indicated where he went. The Minister for Magic had even sent along some Aurors to help in the search but so far the whole thing seemed to be a waste of time.
She knew that he wasn't dead, after all the prophecy had already said that one would live while the other died. And since Voldermort had perished, shouldn't Harry have been the one to live? It really is ironic, she mused bitterly, how you think death is the worst possible thing that could happen to you when it isn't. It's knowing that your best friend that you loved since Merlin knows when is out there, not dead but gone.
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Hermione carefully clambered up the gentle slope again, using the familiar footholds in the rock, and grabbed the ledge of the alcove to pull herself up. From where she was standing she could see the other Aurors and members of the Order walking about, hunting for any trace of Harry.
When she'd been searching, a terrible part of her almost wanted to find him, badly injured…or even dead, so that she'd know exactly where he was. That thought had come so suddenly that she'd been so shocked at it, that she'd stopped in her tracks, overwhelmed by its intensity. A concerned Auror which had been hovering nearby had immediately asked if she was alright.
Hermione had struggled to regain her composure and managed to reply that maybe the sun was getting to her and that she should sit down somewhere. But that wasn't the truth she'd known. She'd just wanted to think things through.
He's not here, she wanted to say, I looked. I know he isn't. But deep down, Hermione Granger wanted to be wrong about something, about this. She wanted to be wrong for the first time in her life, that the Order or the Aurors would find something she had missed, something she had overlooked. This was one thing she wanted to be mistaken about.
She moved to lean against the inner rocky surface of the alcove, knees drawn up tightly to her body, and arms wrapped tightly around them. Glancing around the cave, it almost seemed as if nothing had changed, almost like the day they had arrived. Their backpacks were still placed around the different corners of the alcove, the remains of the small fire no more than a pile of twigs, mostly charred and burnt.
Slowly, she reached out to pull one piece of twig from the pile, dislodging all of it. The wind blew gently, the remnants of the charred pieces flying with it, deeper into the alcove. Hermione sighed and tossing the twig to the floor of the alcove, crawled silently to where she had been sitting the other night. The smooth rock they'd built their fire on now had a charcoal ring around it, somewhat smudged. She let her gaze travel along the smooth rock floor.
And she saw it.
Carefully shifting her weight to her knees, she stared at the words, which had been crudely written in charcoal, probably using the burnt end of one of the twigs. Despite it looking rather faint now, she could still make out the two words, written in Harry's familiar scrawl.
I'm sorry.
She stared at the two words for the longest time, not letting them register. I'm sorry. She gently brushed the pads of her fingers across the two words, smudging them slightly as she did so, a light shade of charcoal staining her fingertips. I'm sorry.
Sorry doesn't change the fact that you drugged us, went to fight the biggest battle of your life and practically jumped off the face of this bloody earth.
She didn't notice she'd said them out loud and that she'd swore. Hermione never really swore, but this time, she was too frustrated and upset to care. All her feelings began to surface once more and the two words began to blur before her eyes, forming a streak of black behind her film of tears.
She was angry. Angry at Harry for leaving them behind, for going off on his own to fight Voldermort. How could he? Didn't they promise to always stick together till the end? She was upset. Upset that he didn't care enough to even tell them that he was going to do this on his own, that he didn't care to explain where he had disappeared to but only an apology. Hurt that he'd vanished without saying goodbye.
She sighed as she looked up and blinked hard, not allowing the tears to fall. I wont, she told herself, Harry will come back. He will. She forced a smile, trying to feel more positive about this entire thing. He's probably just waiting for this entire hullabaloo to die down before coming back. You know how he hates the media.
But then why didn't he write you? Or Ron for that matter? The tiny voice in her head almost sounded smug and knowing. Wouldn't he have at least written to say that he was safe? Hermione tries to silence the voice but it went on, almost mocking. You're lying to yourself. You know Harry might not ever come back.
The thought was almost too terrible to entertain. "No, I don't." She whispered almost half-afraid as if this might come true. "He will come back. I know it."
Are you sure?
Okay this is slightly shorter than the second chapter but I hoped you guys liked it still. Please review and let me know what you guys thought yeah?
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