Chapter Text
Hermione’s lungs burned and her heart felt like it was about to explode out of her chest as she ran through the corridors of Hogwarts with Fred and Ron close behind her. She didn’t dare slow her pace though; they had to get to Harry. All around them was nothing but destruction with a symphony of screams and explosions playing as a soundtrack to the chaos. Hermione didn’t dare think about the people who were screaming lest she give in to the panic that she was barely keeping at bay. If they finished this, there would be time later to grieve and break down. If they didn’t finish what they’d started, they’d all be dead. Her heart had nearly stopped when Voldemort had shown up declaring victory only to feel immense relief soon after when Harry dropped from Hagrid’s arms and bolted into the castle. She’d even allowed herself to feel a semblance of hope when Neville pulled the Sword of Gryffindor out of the Sorting Hat and beheaded Nagini because Voldemort was now mortal.
Another explosion rocked the castle and Hermione nearly lost her footing as she raced onward towards The Great Hall. It was as if the Death Eaters were trying to bring the whole place down and reduce it to nothing more than a pile of rubble. The giants fighting on Voldemort’s side were also adding to the destruction of Hogwarts and a piece of Hermione’s heart broke at the thought of the school not existing anymore. Hermione careened around a corner, and she saw the staircase that would lead them down to the first floor corridor where The Great Hall was.
“Hermione! Fred! Look out!” she heard Ron shout before feeling herself shoved forcefully forward.
Seconds later a spell blasted a huge hole through the wall where she’d been only moments before. Hermione fell hard onto her hands and knees from both being pushed and the force of the explosion. Slightly dazed, she forced herself to get back up on her feet. She shook her head trying to clear the ringing in her ears and then turned. Next to her Fred groaned and she felt momentarily relieved that he was okay. Then as she looked around for Ron, Hermione felt the blood drain from her face. The entire wall had collapsed inward from the blast and just visible from beneath the rubble was Ron’s red hair and one of his hands.
“RON!” she screamed as she ran towards him.
She sank to her knees and began trying to dig him out. Fred joined her, but the stone debris was too heavy to move by hand. Hermione pulled her wand out at the same time Fred did and they began trying to dig Ron out with magic. They kept calling Ron’s name as they moved the heavy detritus off of him, but he did not answer. When they’d finally uncovered him, Fred rolled Ron over onto his back. He was limp and far too pale; his hair was matted in blood. As Hermione looked closer, she could see that Ron was laying in a large pool of his own blood. Hermione crawled over to Ron’s body and took his face in her hands, leaving bloody smudges on his cheeks.
“Ron! Ron wake up!” she screamed.
Hermione was shaking and suddenly all the panic she’d been holding back let loose like a flood. She barely registered Fred reach over to check Ron’s pulse. All she could do was scream, and cry, and beg Ron not to leave her. She knew he was dead; his body was already losing some of its warmth. She felt Fred tug at her arm, trying to get her to stand but she wouldn’t leave Ron; she couldn’t. He was her best friend; given the opportunity they might have been more than friends after today. She covered his body with hers and sobbed into his chest. Fred was saying something, but she couldn’t hear him over her screams. Then she felt Fred grab her upper arms from behind and forcefully dragged her off of Ron. When he had her on her feet, Fred pulled her back against his chest and wrapped his arms around her tightly to keep her from lunging back down onto the floor to be with his brother.
“Hermione!” he said as sternly as he could in her ear. “I don’t want to leave him either, but he’s gone! We can’t stay here, it’s not safe.”
Hermione felt Fred drag her away, down the staircase towards The Great Hall. Everything else after that was a blur. She barely registered being told that Harry had killed Voldemort and that they’d won the war. She didn’t notice when Fred sat her down on one of the benches or when people approached her to ask if she was alright. Distantly she knew she must look like a horrific mess; she was covered from head to toe in Ron’s blood. Hermione could feel it drying, making her skin itch. She felt hands on her body, and suddenly Madam Pomfrey was standing in front of her with a frightened look on her face. Hermione realized that she was looking for an injury that would cause her to be so bloody. Distantly she heard Mrs. Weasley wail when Fred told her about Ron, but Hermione couldn’t break free from the numbness that had overtaken her mind and body.
Hermione wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but slowly she got to her feet and left The Great Hall. Her feet carried her back up the staircase to where they’d left Ron. She sat beside him on the floor that was tacky with his blood and began trying to heal his injuries. There had to be something she could do to bring him back. He might not be dead, she thought to herself. Sometimes if a pulse was too faint you couldn’t feel it. There had to be something she could do. However, as more time went on, Hermione had to accept that he was truly gone and that nothing she could do would ever bring him back.
She sat there holding his hand in a daze for another unknown amount of time. It was then that she realized for the first time how quiet it was. At some point all the screaming and explosions had stopped, though she wasn’t sure when things had gotten so quiet; it was almost as deafening as the battle had been. Hermione finally broke out of her trancelike state when she heard Harry’s voice. She turned and saw him standing on the landing of the staircase with Fred, George, Percy, and Arthur.
“Ron?!” he said in a panicked voice as his face drained of color.
Then he was running towards Hermione and falling to his knees beside Ron’s body.
He turned to Hermione and said desperately, “Do something!”
It took a few tries, but she finally said, “I can’t.”
“Hermione you have to! You can fix this! You always fix everything!” he begged.
“I can’t fix this Harry.” she whispered. “Not even I have the power to cheat death.”
She saw the moment Harry’s heart broke as he realized that his best friend was gone. Hermione reached for him to pull him into a hug, wanting to seek comfort from her other best friend. He shrugged her off and pulled away from her. His face changed from one of pure grief to anger.
“What happened?” he gritted out.
“He must have seen a spell coming towards the wall through the window. He pushed me and Fred out of the way right before the wall exploded. We were trying to get to The Great Hall.” she whispered, trying not to fall apart.
Harry balled up his hands into fists at his sides and his body shook almost violently.
“And you just left him here?” he said a little too calmly.
Hermione opened her mouth to answer him, but Fred beat her to it.
“Of course not Harry. We dug him out, but I think he was already gone.” Fred said in a shaky voice. “It’s not much…but I think it was quick. I don’t…think…he suffered.” he said as he began to cry.
Harry glared at Hermione, and she wasn’t sure why he was angry at her.
“You didn’t even try to fix him?” he snarled. “You just what? Saw he wasn’t responding and left? You didn’t even try! He could have had a chance! But now we won’t know!” he shouted.
“Harry…” Arthur said as he put his hand on Harry’s shoulder; he looked like he’d aged several decades from all the stress and grief.
“No! Hermione’s supposed to be the brightest witch of our age! What good is she if she can’t fix things when they count the most!” he screamed.
“H-Harry… I tried. I did! I tried every spell I knew.” Hermione said as tears streamed down her face. “I just couldn’t fix this. I’m sorry!”
She reached for Harry again wanting to hug him even if he was angry and saying horrible things to her, but he pushed her away hard, got to his feet, and stormed off. Percy, who also looked angry, stormed off after Harry; leaving Fred, George, and Arthur staring after them in shock as Hermione wailed on the floor sitting in a drying pool of Ron’s blood.
~
Hermione wasn’t unfamiliar with grief. She’d been carved deeply by it over the last few years. She’d mourned so many people; and the grief was worse for some than others. The three that came to mind as the worst were her parents and Ron. Her parents had died in a car accident shortly after she’d obliviated their memories of her. It had almost kept her from going with Harry and Ron to search for the horcruxes. Ron’s death cut her just as deeply. Arthur had told her that she always had a home at The Burrow after her parents had passed away, but The Burrow didn’t feel like home anymore. Harry and Percy both blamed Hermione for Ron’s death and had turned Molly against her too. The house had become divided with Harry, Percy, and Molly treating Hermione like a murderer and Fred, George, and Arthur defending her. Ginny had run off to Padma’s and hadn’t come home since the funeral instead of taking a side. Hermione didn’t blame her, she hated the situation and hated that she was the cause of it.
Everyone was grieving in their own way and Hermione had taken to isolating herself in the room she shared with Ginny; trying to stay out of everyone’s way. Fred and George would come in and sit with her in silence. It was kind of them to keep her company while they all tried to figure out how to pick up the shattered pieces of their lives and go on. Crookshanks was the only true constant source of comfort to Hermione at The Burrow; he’d lay in bed curled up with her purring non-stop for hours. She felt like a burden that nobody wanted or needed.
Hermione wasn’t sure why she stayed as long as she did at The Burrow. The living situation was awkward at the best of times and unbearable at the worst of times. Two months after the war ended, Harry was offered a job as an Auror and spent a lot of time out of the house. Things improved even more when Percy returned to work as well. Fred and George reopened the joke shop and forced Hermione to come with them. They showed her how the bookkeeping worked for the shop and made her take it over. She’d hated going at first, but eventually the task of working through the arithmancy had been a good task to occupy her mind. As long as Hermione returned to The Burrow before Percy and Harry got home, things were somewhat alright. When she returned to The Burrow after they’d returned home it always ended in a fight where they’d say something nasty to her and then Fred or George would say something equally nasty back. Hermione never said anything; when she was at The Burrow she practically became mute.
The breaking point came four months after the war ended. She’d been working adjusted hours with Fred and George at the shop, and she’d had a lot of run-ins with Harry and Percy. It was Sunday, and the joke shop closed for a few hours before opening for late-night hours. Fred and George had found that puking pasties sold extremely well on Sundays. They were making a killing by keeping the store open from eleven in the morning to two in the afternoon and then reopening at six in the evening and staying open until midnight. Hermione had started to feel herself worn thinner and thinner with each encounter with the bitter pair. She wished that things could go back to the way things were. She and Harry had once been almost as close as siblings, but now they were strangers living under the same roof. She’d even tried apologizing to see if it would help smooth things over even though there was nothing she could have done to save Ron. The apology had backfired on her horribly because Harry and Percy had taken it as an admission of guilt instead of the peace offering she was trying to make it be.
She arrived at The Burrow with Fred and George at the tail end of Sunday lunch. Hermione had every intention of skipping lunch and running upstairs to her room, but unfortunately Harry and Percy were in the living room when she walked in.
“Still here?” sneered Percy.
Hermione hung her head and tried to walk quickly towards the stairs, but George caught her by the arm and said, “Hold on.”
“Don’t start Percy. Quit being such a git.” Fred said.
“Shut up Fred! I don’t even know why she’s still here. Mum doesn’t want her here and maybe you’ve forgotten but she let our brother die.” Percy retorted back.
“Why are you picking on her?” George asked.
“You two being angry at her makes no sense!” Fred chimed in right after George. “If you’re mad at her then you should be mad at me too. Ron died saving me too! And I was the one who pulled Hermione away from Ron’s body when it became clear she wasn’t going to move.”
“That’s not the same!” Harry said angrily. “Hermione’s the brightest witch of our age supposedly. She kept us alive for months. I don’t believe that there was nothing she could do!” he said stubbornly.
“I don’t know what you want from me Harry.” Hermione said quietly. “I told you what happened, I’ve apologized, I’ve tried to give you space. Please just tell me what you want.”
“I don’t want you to do ANYTHING!” Harry shouted. “Not unless you can somehow go back in time and bring Ron back! Fuck Hermione, I wish you had been the one that died instead of Ron!”
A heavy silence fell over the entire house as Harry’s words stabbed her through the heart like a dagger. Hermione pulled herself free from George’s grasp and fled up the stairs trying not to burst into tears. She heard the shouting match begin as she reached the room. She closed the door and slid down it as she began to hyperventilate. She realized that she was never getting Harry back and it broke the last piece of her already broken heart. At that realization she got to her feet so quickly her head spun. She had to get out of there, she couldn’t stay at The Burrow anymore. She should have left months ago. Quickly she picked up the few belongings that were out of her magically extended beaded bag. She’d never really unpacked after returning from the war.
“Come here Crooks!” she said to the cat as she extended her arms.
Crookshanks jumped off the bed and leapt into her arms. She looked around one last time to make sure she wasn’t leaving anything behind and then fled down the stairs. As she reached the living room she accidentally bumped into Percy as he was trying to retreat up the stairs to his room. He shoved her hard into the wall and Crookshanks leapt from her arms onto Percy.
“Crookshanks!” Hermione screamed, not wanting him to get hurt because of her.
Fred and George restrained Percy to keep him from harming the cat while Hermione pulled the hissing ball of fur off of Percy’s face. Percy was bleeding badly from several deep scratches covering his face. It looked like Crooks had tried to gouge his eyes out for trying to hurt Hermione.
“Let me go! I’m going to fucking kill that cat!” Percy yelled.
Hermione hugged the cat closer to her chest and ran out the front door. She heard footsteps behind her, and she tried to run faster towards the edge of the wards surrounding the house.
“Hermione wait!” she heard Fred call out for her.
“Hermione stop!” George called out.
Hermione crossed the ward boundary and ran a few more feet away from the property before turning on her heel to apparate. Right before she apparated, she felt a hand clamp down on her upper arm and she ended up taking whoever grabbed her with her. As soon as she landed in the alley near the train station, she ripped herself free from the person that had grabbed onto her. Crookshanks leapt down from her arms and wound his way around her ankles. Hermione looked up to see Fred standing in the alley with her. She felt relieved that he hadn’t gotten splinched in the process of coming with her.
“What are you doing Fred?” she asked as she tried to hold back her tears.
“Making sure you’re alright Hermione.” he said.
“I’m not.” she said shakily as she pulled out her wand. “But you don’t need to worry about me anymore. I won’t be a bother anymore.”
“Hermione…you’re not a bother.” he said softly and then his brows furrowed as he watched her take her wand in both hands. “Hermione what are you… Wait! DON’T!” he said as realization dawned on him what she was about to do.
Fred tried to lunge towards her to stop her, but it was too late; she gripped her wand forcefully in both hands and snapped it in two.
“I don’t belong in your world anymore.” she said as she dropped the dead wand onto the pavement.
Hermione looked back up from her broken wand at Fred. He’d gone pale and his mouth was hanging open in disbelief.
“Goodbye Fred.” she said in a shaky voice and then turned and ran with Crookshanks hot on her heels. As she ran tears began to stream down her face, but she didn’t look back.