Hopeless

Hopeless

Viopathartic

Ladies and gentlemen, this chapter is 13 pages.

That is all I have to say.

Chapter 4 (Part 2)

The final battle came unsurprisingly. We were all prepared at first—trained for 3 years, as a matter of fact. People died, killed in torturous ways on both sides, but I shall not go through the details.

What mattered most was my one-on-one with Voldemort.

It actually turned out to be three to one because Hermione and Ron refused to "abandon" me. I wish they hadn't, seeing as them staying behind could have saved the three of us—saved me—from living a false life.

The place that I considered home was nearly in ruins. After we graduated, the school closed down because Voldemort was getting stronger. Hogwarts, the place that was said to be second safest, was no longer a refuge. It turned into a quarters for wizards and witches in the fight—the whole place was for the purpose of healing those injured. In a way, it was our fort.

Voldemort came and the forces brought a storm. It was raining, hard, and thundering with aggression. The winds were ruthless, but that did not stop our fighters from heading outside the forts and battling against His Deatheaters. Inside and out, right and left, the deathly duels occurred all around.

I found him inside the Dark Forest, in the place where I had unknowingly first met him. The three of us entered in a dark, recondite forest, unsure of our fates. Beforehand, the Good side was able to persuade the centaurs to act as allies, and they had gone outside their homes to fight.

We met him in the middle. The trees grew around us in a circle. The moon was our light. Drops of rain fell with vengeance, pounding our bodies relentlessly. Truthfully, I felt none of the harsh weather.

All that mattered was the man who killed my parents…and he had stood in front of me.

Voldemort laughed when he saw Hermione and Ron, defiantly standing beside me. He asked, "What are these fools coming along for? You're only risking their lives, Potter. And…you wouldn't want to lose your precious Mudblood, right?"

I didn't show my surprise, but my internal organs had stopped working when he finished his words. I hadn't felt him for four years; I hadn't realized that he knew. I practiced my Occlumency. I learned the ways of intervening with the mind…how did he know?

Voldemort cackled. "You thought…that you had to feel me in your head in order to know that I was there? Insolent boy, I have my ways to enter your mind. It's apparent that you didn't know."

Hermione and Ron had taken a step forward so they would stand with me in a horizontal line against Voldemort.

"Know what?" I had asked, loudly and confidently.

Voldemort sneered. "That I was able to see your precious memories and encounters with that Mudblood. That I was able to discover your…love," he spat, "for her."

He shot a spell at Ron, who then fell on his back. He landed with a groan.

"Too easy. But of course, it's a Weasley," taunted Voldemort. The Dark sorcerer turned to Hermione. "Now it's your turn."

I hit him with a mild spell, and he stumbled. He turned to me with an angry expression dawning on his face.

"So you want to duel before I kill all of you?"

I straightened up and beckoned for Hermione and Ron to move away. "Actually yes.  A fair one."

He sneered. "Haven't I always been fair," he said sarcastically.

The duel was prolonged. We hit each other with the most powerful spells we knew. My mind acted on autopilot and instinct so I can't really remember much of what had happened.

Finally, the both of us became winded.

It was the perfect moment to act out our plan.

I shot a weak, small spell at him and Voldemort raised his arm to block it off. While he was preoccupied, Ron quickly fired his spell at him.

There were three stages of our spell, the one that we created and perfected in the last three years. Hermione did most of the result, but all three of us had consulted best spell inventors that had ever existed. We worked together, practiced together, and our spell was the final product.

One: containment. Ron used his magic to bind Voldemort in one spot. The latter had not known how to react; it wasn't a spell that he was familiar with because the three of us had created it ourselves. He was too late to block it. Voldemort struggled against the hold of the spell, angrily growling and trying to resist.

Two: Pain.  While Ron still had Voldemort in his hold, Hermione stepped forward and closed her eyes. Then, a blood red beam burst from her wand and she directed it at Voldemort. It was supposed to be three times as powerful as the Cruciatus Curse.

It worked. Voldemort stopped moving, and his eyes bulged open as if he had suddenly awakened from the dead. His fingers began to curl and his mouth was open, a scream stuck in his throat. It was as if all the pain his life, all the people who he killed had taken over his body and gave him a taste of his own medicine. It was the effect of a hundred Cruciatus Curses directed at the same person.

I watched him for a moment as my friends held him from attacking. It knew that my spell was the most crucial since it would drive Voldemort to the graves and right down to Hell.

Hermione removed the Silencing charms and Voldemort's screams rang through the forest. I was sure that the others in battle would hear and would learn that the end was coming soon.

"Harry!" Ron had yelled, his voice sounding strained because of his effort to hold Voldemort in place. The winds blew harder as his forces and Voldemort's forces fought against each other. As if on cue, the rain picked up and stroked us all.

"Hurry, Harry!" Hermione cried, eyes tearing as the light from her curse blinded everyone. "Do it!"

Death. That was the final stage of our created spell. I finally raised the wand that was the brother of my opponent who I was about to kill.

"Bye, Tom Riddle," I whispered to myself and with a deep breath, I focused all of my energy and hate into the final spell.

Of all the colors I expected, white shown from the tip of my wand and blew in the direction of Voldemort. His face had contorted in fear, an expression that did not match him. I used to believe that Voldemort feared nothing, but during that battle, I realized what he was most scared of. His death.

The white that had begun as a narrow beam suddenly broadened into a ray of light that touched all areas of the forest. It headed towards Voldemort at the speed of light and finally, finally, his whole body disappeared from my view.

The three of us stood in circle, holding our respective spells. Our wands began to vibrate, straining as the intense power from the three of us combined as one and proceeded to destroy He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

Finally, our power turned off abruptly because nothing was left of our target. We lowered our wands together and stared at the crater in the ground that was created from our magic. There was no one there.

Voldemort was dead.

Hermione had beamed at me and Ron gave a loud whoop, and they ran towards me, to give me a congratulatory hug.

I held up my hand from where I stood.

They had halted in their steps, suddenly looking alarm

I felt him. He was still there around us…and he was waiting.

Except I didn't know where.

I remember feeling my arm as it lifted, and I remember the death grip on my wand. But that's just it: I only felt and could not think, could not control my body.

Hermione stood frozen, knees bent and eyes wide. Her hair, which was pulled back before, had escaped its hold and framed her face. She opened her mouth and shouted inaudible words; to me, it looked as if she was merely opening and closing. I couldn't understand her.

Ron was doing the same and he shouted as his face turned red.

But I moved forward, taking small steps at a time. My arm shook as I kept the wand pointed. Hermione backed away from me, wildly glancing around for an escape.

As this went, I was doing those things, but those actions were not controlled by me.

He was doing it.

Remember these words, Potter.  They might be my last, but they're going to kill you.

And you won't be saved.

Last thing I saw was Hermione's memories in my mind. I saw her in the train and she was gazing at two boys—one with a rat and one who looked absolutely clueless. I saw her walking down the steps in the Great Hall and her gaze was on an awestruck me. I saw her smiling and throwing her arms around my neck. I saw our first kiss.

Then her memories closed off as if a fist had suddenly crushed them together.

Ron jumped in front of her, but not fully.

The golden beam from my wand hit the both of them.

I fell into unconsciousness.

Next thing I knew, I woke up in the Hospital to find Hermione and Ron laying in separate beds on both sides of me.

I saw Madam Pomfrey after that and she took care of me. I told her about the battle, about Voldemort in my head, and about the spell that I had unwilling cast at my two best friends. She had never heard of the spell, but told me that she'd get to researching as soon as possible. She also said that my room would be closed off, meaning no visitors or reporters or photographers. I was glad for that.

But there was a visitor that Madam did not know of.

Luna, of course, being a Ravenclaw, found creative ways to enter to room and she'd find Ron in a heartbeat.

One day, she caught Luna in the room but did not say anything. She saw the way Luna paid no attention to her; her worry was only for Ron. Madam Pomfrey let her stay with me.

She then told me that Hermione and Ron would be in a coma until further notice.

I was racked with guilt. I was the one who couldn't learn Occlumency enough to combat Voldemort. I was the one to let Hermione get too close to me. I was the one who held that wand and let Him hurt both of my best friends.

Luna had repeated to me that none of it was my fault.

I didn't believe her.

I only discovered why Hermione and Ron were in comas after two weeks and three days.

Madam Pomfrey had pulled me aside. She didn't waste our time with pleasantries.

"How long have the two of you been engaged?"

"How—" I was surprised that she knew. Hermione and I had cast a charm on the ring so that it would not be noticed.

"When I was scanning her body, I used a detection spell and deactivated your camouflage charm. I suspect Ms. Granger had done it?"

Too shocked, I had nodded.

"How long have the two of you been engaged?" she repeated and this time, I had answered.

"Three months, I'd say."

She nodded gravely.

"Madam Pomfrey…what's wrong with her?" I had finally asked. She wasn't smiling, only asking questions that seemed irrelevant to Hermione and Ron's health.

The nurse nodded, smiling thinly at me. "Hold on. These questions are important. Now…what…would you say is most important to you?"

"Wha—" I was befuddled. These questions…did they even relate to Hermione's condition?

"It's important, Harry," she said more firmly than before.

"Hermione."

And I pointed to her on the bed, "sleeping", as if Madam Pomfrey had forgotten who she was.

"Her. She's most important to me…she-she's the one I love."

"And Hermione?"

"I-I guess I'm important to her."

"And did Voldemort know about this?"

"Yes…I didn't know he knew until he mentioned it during the battle and I can't believe I didn't see it---

Madam Pomfrey interrupted me, "I've found the true consequences of the spell, Harry."

She called me Harry because she felt so sorry for me.

My arm dropped.

"What?"

"I found the spell."

I felt something, but it wasn't happiness because I saw how pale the nurse looked. "I-isn't that good?"

 

"The spell inveni gravitas is much graver than it sounds. It's one of the most complicated memory spells out there."

"What? Memory—do you mean that they won't remember the battle, the fight?"

Madam Pomfrey ignored me. "Specific memories are targeted with this spell… inveni gravitas roughly translates to locate the importance."

"Madam Pomfrey, I still don’t—"

"Seeing as you were raised muggles, I suppose I should explain in those terms. Have you ever heard…of DNA and genes?"

"Yeah, yeah." I remembered vaguely learning about

"Well, there is a process called gene therapy. The basic purpose of the process is to insert a gene into someone's body cell to treat a disease—"

"Alright, but what does that have anything to do with—"

She had put up a hand to stop me. "Hold on, Mr. Potter," she said sternly. "Let me explain. Do not be so impatient."

I wanted to yell at her that I could not afford to have any patience when it came to saving Hermione and Ron's lives.

But I nodded and waited.

"Thank you," she curtly said. "Now…the extraordinary thing about gene therapy is that doctors are allowed to target certain genes. I'm mentioning this because gene therapy shows similarity with the spell that Hermione and Ron were hit with."

"So…you're saying that—"

"Yes, yes, some of Hermione and Ron's memories were erased. And those memories most likely revolved around those that they thought were important to them."

She let me think for a moment, but I already knew what it meant. "So her memories of me…of us together are gone? And same with Ron and Luna?"

"I believe so," Madam Pomfrey answered regretfully.

No.

"It can't be cured…the memories…they're officially gone?"

"I will be able to wake them up and I can do it now, but yes, Harry…I'm sorry. They won't remember about you and Luna. Their memories were specifically targeted by Voldemort and well, there still might be a chance that they can learn to remember…there have been cases—"

"Wake Hermione up then. I need to talk to her. She can't just forget about our…relationship. She just can't."

But she did. Pomfrey administered the antidote, and Hermione had smiled at me. She knew my name.  She knew that she was best friends with Harry Potter. She remembered some parts of the battle.

Except she had no clue that we were once very much in love and engaged to be married.

I instructed Madam Pomfrey to give Hermione a Sleeping Draught. I didn't want to hear anymore. If Hermione had lost her memory about her love for me then Ron would do the same for Luna.

Luna had waited patiently when I told her. She was by Ron's bed again and it was probably nine at night. Her thumb stroked Ron's hand and she gazed fondly at him.

"Keep it on," she said, smiling slightly at me after I told her that Hermione didn't remember me as a lover but only as a best friend and that I might as well take our rings off."I don't see the point of you taking it off."

"She'll probably freak out, wouldn't she? I mean, it's an engagement ring! She doesn't remember as…as someone who kissed her and loved her."

"Hermione has always loved you," Luna had said with an air of seriousness. "Sure, it's possible that she was attracted to Ron for a short time, but she…got together with you before I got together with Ron. She didn't use you. Did she tell you that she loved you?"

"Yes," I mumbled, "Right before the battle."

"Didn't she say yes?"

"Yes," I gasped, tears in my eyes as I gripped Hermione's hand tighter.

"Then she loves you, Harry. And once they awake, we will merely refresh their minds about our relationship. We'll be able to tell the world about our love for Hermione and Ron. You will marry Hermione and will spend your life with her. I will marry Ron and bear five of his children…and I do hope that I will have at least one girl."

I smiled.

"Keep the ring on. Let her wake up. She'll see the ring and if your love is powerful enough, which it is, she'll remember everything."

Luna waited a few moments, watching me as I watched Hermione sleeping.

"It's a nice ring by the way."

Me and Luna sat there in the Hospital wing, staring at our respective loved ones' body.

"I will," I had decided. I thought my decision was set. After all, Luna did have some strong logic.

"Promise?"

I turned away from Luna and moved a strand of Hermione's hair. I then whispered, "I promise."

I was happy that I confided in Luna. I became…optimistic because of our talk. I listened to her.

Hermione and I would get married and we would live happily ever after.

Dolohov didn't let us.

"Harry," Kingsley Shacklebolt called me one day. I was headed to the Hospital Wing as always, and he managed to catch up to me. He was a key figure in the latest war and head of the Aurors Department.

"What? I have to get back to—"

"This can't wait," he said, gazing urgently at me.

I followed him into an empty room—my old Transfiguration classroom. He told me to sit down; I refused. He wouldn't say anything else until I did what I was told.

"Kingsley, what is it?" I asked, not even bothering to keep my agitation out of my voice.

"Harry, what I am about to say to you is for only you and the Ministry to know."

"What?"

"Dolohov and twelve other Deatheaters have escaped."

"WHAT?" I stood up from my seat and hit my fist against the top of a desk. Kingsley did not even flinch.

"The Aurors can't seem to trace them. Dolohov and the other Death Eaters…they managed to find a way around the bonds that kept them in place."

"You mean to tell me that after a four year war with the Deatheaters, your people have still not managed to perfect your bonds?" I yelled, furious that the Ministry would be so careless and clueless. Merlin, what the hell were they thinking?

"I know it's hard. You just defeated him and...this happened."

"And you're just sitting here and tell me all this! Why aren't you gathering your men to take care of this! Dolohov is dangerous and he might even go after Hermione."

"I know," Kingsley said with a straight face. He pulled something out of his robes and handed it to me.

It was a piece of parchment.

I glared at Kingsley and snatched it out of his hands. I hurriedly opened it and read. The words were written in blood.

SHE'LL BE TAKEN AWAY SOON ENOUGH

"But…he's not serious, is he?"

"Do you…remember how Fred died?"

By now, I've already become used to their random questions.

I nodded solemnly. An unknown Death Eater had killed him in the same battle that killed Ginny. He used a slicing charm on Fred. His body was taken, leaving the Weasley family to mourn for days.

"It's his blood."

I quickly dropped the note.

"Do the others know?"

"No. I expect it'll cause you and the Weasleys some trouble…and given the events that transpired…I've decided to confront you and only you."

"What I ask is that you join the Aurors in cleaning up the mess. To find these Deatheaters before they can attack once more. Voldemort may be gone, but his Deatheaters were people who have the same intent to kill.

He saw my hesitation, but he also knew my weakness.

"Wouldn't you want to protect Hermione after all of this happening to her? To protect the one that you love?"

I looked up at him. He knew too. How, I did not know, but he knew.

It took me awhile, but I finally nodded at him.

"Dolohov is after her, Luna," I later said to her in a monotonous voice. We were back in the Hospital and back to looking after our Hermione and Ron.

Her face showed surprise but it soon turned to panic. "Harry…what are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that Hermione's still in danger. I'm thinking that she can get killed because some bastard has something against her and me. I'm thinking that this is all basically my fault."

Luna left Ron's side in a hurry and knelt down beside me, "Harry, no. Think of what you are going to let go…the greatest person of your life. You can't, you must NOT, give up! You promised me. No matter what, you would still love Hermione."

It was if Death had taken my heart with two hands and twisted it. I thought she had died that day in the Department of Mysteries. And most recently…god, she's in the Hospital because of the spell that Voldemort had targeted specifically for her.

Now Dolohov is out to kill. If he found out about me and Hermione, he would only do his job faster.

I won't let that happen again. Damnit, not to my Hermione.

"I can't let Dolohov get to her, Luna."

"This is MY decision, Luna!" I shouted at her and she reared back in shock. "I can't lose Hermione! I can't!"

"But you're losing her either way! If you don't let her remember your relationship together, you lose her. And with what you are saying, if Dolohov goes after her, you would lose her too!"

"As long as I am around her, able to see her and talk to her, I'll be able to live. I will be able to protect her."

"But what about…"

"You will help Ron remember. You two will get back together and will live a normal life. My letting Hermione go will not effect your love for Ron and his for you. I-I'll…I will tell Hermione eventually. But if Dolohov is still out there, Hermione and I will just be best friends."

It seemed like the perfect plan. I thought I was being logically. But then again, I was never the logical one, was I?

Madam Pomfrey and I woke Ron the next day. It was early, and I was sure that no one was awake. I immediately wanted to get Luna because I knew that she would be so happy to see him.

I couldn't find Luna so I had to sprint to the Ravenclaw tower.

One of the girls said that Loony went out on a walk.

Translation: to the Hospital Wing.

Of course, she would always visit Ron in the mornings so she was probably already there. I grinned.

I couldn't wait to see her truly smile again.

I saw Luna there, but her back was to me. She stood at the doorway of the Hospital Wing, leaning against the wooden threshold. For some reason, she was separating herself from the crowd of people who had apparently come to see Ron.

But then I looked past her and saw Ron. And when I saw him, I saw Hermione. My heart had leapt. Madam Pomfrey probably woke her up after I left.

God, she's alive and she's beautiful. Though, she looked a little confused.

But…

Why was Ron standing beside Hermione? Why was he holding her hand? Why was everyone looking so happily at their clasped hands?

Luna looked at me. "You did it. You did it, Harry." Her eyes were wide, unbelieving and asking: How were you even capable of doing it?

I hugged her because I wanted to her to not look at me like that—as if I had just betrayed her in unspeakable ways. And I didn't want the others to see my crying. Luna didn't hug me back. Her whole body was stiff and her hand was cemented to the doorway.

If the others—the Weasleys, our friends, and Madam Pomfrey—looked at us, they would have probably that we were hugging of joy!

But they weren't able to hear Luna whisper with words so foreign, "I hate you. I hate you."

And me, crying, "I'm sorry."

Madam Pomfrey had watched Hermione and Ron just like the others had done, but she was the only person who knew that it was wrong.

"Potter, where's the ring?" she asked urgently once she pulled me outside of the wing.

I had wordlessly pulled it out of my pocket. Luna sobbed a bit harder, but she covered her face with her hands.

"Why?"

"Why, Harry…why?" Luna cried softly, but then, me and Madam Pomfrey ignored her. She turned to me, looking both upset and furious.

"If you think that she's better off…you have sorely made a mistake that you might regret for the rest of your life."

Madam Pomfrey was right. I regretted it ever since I saw Hermione's hand in Ron's. I regretted it since they moved in together.

I regret everything.

Before I can even realize it, my tears begin to fall on the ring which I held in my hand.

After, I'm weeping softly.