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| Copyright © 2007 | www.booksandwands.com | All Rights Reserved Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling, Bloomsbury, Scholastic and Warner Brothers Entertainment. No copyright infringement intended of any and all source material. No profits were made from this site. |
Leaving with Memories
|
Harry couldn't stay in that hall any longer. The sounds of moans
and sobs and whispers was too much; he wanted to forget how to
feel, to leave this behind... he knew it was his fault; he knew
he would be blamed.
He turned and ran, clutching the vial of Snape's memories in
sweaty, fumbling hands. The smell of blood and healing potions
caused a bitter taste in his mouth.
“Harry!”
But there was no turning around; no facing it-- for once, Harry
wished to run, to forgo his Gryffindor ties and run away.
“Harry, wait!”
He could hear her panting, hear her footsteps clattering on the
flagstones, and suddenly he stopped, his lungs under immense
pressure... he didn't know whether it was from running or from
the sobs.
“Harry.”
She spoke his name again, and her fingers wound around his,
around the smudged glass vial filled with silvery memories. He
wanted to turn away-- he could not bear to imagine finding her
among the dead, and her presence only made the image more vivid
and more painful.
“Please leave me alone, Hermione--” he choked, “Don't follow me;
don't be with me--”
“Oh, Harry.” she whispered, in a voice of agonized empathy, a
voice that caused him to sink to the stones. She too sat; he
heard the vial clink to the floor.
“Please--”
Her hands slid into his, holding on tightly.
“Harry, I know-- I know there's things you have to do without
me.” her voice trembled, and she hastily cleared her throat. It
didn't help. “I know that. But don't leave me-- not like that--
not--”
She took a shaky breath.
“Not without... not without telling me.”
“I can't promise you that!” he burst out, half-angrily, half-
despairingly, “Don't you get it, Hermione, I can't promise you
anything!”
He heard her gasp, in a way that told him she was struggling not
to cry.
“Then promise-- promise you'll remember me. When it happens, when
you have to--”
She broke off abruptly. He felt her hands quivering in his.
“I'm sorry it worked out this way.” he managed to whisper. “I'm
so sorry, Hermione-- you deserve better from me.”
“Don't you dare apologize!” she said fiercely, her voice suddenly
sharp. “Don't you apologize for this; it's not your fault! None
of it is!”
“That's where you're wrong.” he said, more savagely than he
intended. “You and everyone else have been fighting because he
wants me! Fred and Remus and Tonks died because of me! “
“Oh, there you go again!” she retorted, “Would you look at me?”
He felt his face burn, but he obeyed. Her face was streaked with
tears, but he could see her eyes blazing passionately.
Her hands squeezed his, and she spoke in a low, steady voice, one
quivering fervently, “They died for you, yes, but they also died
for their families. For themselves-- for the future. And they did
not die because of you, they died for you and there's a
difference!”
He jerked his hands away, feeling angry and grateful at the same
time. Something in him had lightened, just slightly, at her
words, but he didn't show it. He couldn't.
“You don't understand.”
“Don't I?” she whispered, her voice breaking again. “I may not
understand your insistence on taking responsibility for
everything that ever happened, but I do understand what it feels
to lose someone. Fred was a friend of mine, too-- the Weasleys
are part of my family, I hate to see Ron and Ginny hurt-- and
their parents and siblings--”
“Oh, fantastic, so you're sad.” Harry said angrily. “Make me feel
even better, will you?”
“Shut up, Harry!” she exploded, “Just-- shut up!”
He was so surprised that he fell silent. Her cheeks were flushed
and eyes were still sharp and bright.
“I don't want to lose you!” she said furiously, her voice high-
pitched and tearful, “I'm not losing you! And I certainly don't
want to keep hearing about how everything is your fault, because
as I've constantly driven into your thick skull, it's not! Don't
you realize how much it hurts me to hear you talk like that? Have
you completely lost your heart as well as your mind? Maybe I'm
not as important to you as Ginny is, maybe I'm not as close to
you as Ron--- I don't know! Maybe I'll never know! But you're
more important to me than anyone in the world and I wish you'd
remember that!”
A ringing silence took over the corridor, as Harry struggled to
let the words sink in. His heart was feeling rather sore from
pounding against his chest-- or maybe that was from hearing her
cry...
“Hermione--” he said thickly, with great difficulty. “Hermione,
I'm sorry.”
She scrubbed at her face and covered her eyes with her hands.
“No, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have... I lost my temper.”
“I don't blame you.” he said sincerely, cautiously stretching out
a hand and squeezing her shoulder. “You're right-- I was being...
I was--”
“... a complete prat, when it comes down to it.” she said in a
muffled voice, and he wished he could smile. But his churning
insides wouldn't allow it.
“Yeah.”
There was another silence, and Hermione finally dropped her
hands. Harry saw with regret how puffy and red her eyes were, and
how wet her cheeks seemed.
“You're important to me, Hermione.” he said finally, and
immediately felt stupid. Of course he'd say something like that;
when his time with her could be very short. “I mean--“
“It's all right.” she hiccupped, with a feeble smile. “Look at
me-- crying all over the place when you-- when you need me to
be...”
She trailed off, swiping her hand across her eyes again. He could
see a shudder pass through her frame.
He wished he could say something to her. He wasn't sure what,
only that he wished to see her smile, really smile...
“I don't mind it if you cry.” he said finally, again feeling that
the statement was incredibly ridiculous. “I reckon it helps
sometimes.”
She nodded.
“I suppose it does.” she agreed, and Harry felt the awkwardness
of the silence settle in the pit of his stomach.
“Hermione, I--” he broke off, trying desperately to find what
exactly he was attempting to say. She looked up, and her eyes
fixed on his. “Look, I'm-- I'm sorry. No--” he said quickly, when
he saw her open her mouth to protest, “Just listen. Let me say
this at least.”
She nodded, obediently closing her mouth and watching him
silently.
His face felt quite hot, and his fingers were suddenly quite
clammy as he rushed on, “I don't know if I've ever told you
this-- actually, I do, I never have-- I'm... Merlin, I'm not very
good with telling you... what I feel, I mean...”
He felt so stupid. Babbling on like a mindless idiot when his
time was slipping away.
“That's all to say... I mean--”
He'd yet to say anything meaningful, anything worth remembering,
and she sat patiently, head tilted back.
“I just.... I wish we could have... I--”
Suddenly, her hand was pressed softly against his cheek, and he
fell silent, his heart sinking.
“Hush.” The whisper broke the silence tenderly. “I understand.”
He closed his eyes, feeling her thumb caress his cheek lightly.
“I'll be fighting for you. And waiting.”
She hesitated.
“I'll always be here.” And her hand pressed against his heart.
“As cliché as it sounds, I'll always be with you.”
Her hand dropped from his chest, and he heard her get up. His
eyes snapped open, and he looked up. “Hermione?”
“Remember what I said.” Her fingers trailed through his hair.
“I could never forget.” he found himself mumbling rather tightly.
“I don't want to.”
She bent and quickly kissed his head.
“I'll see you soon.” she whispered, and before Harry could utter
another word, or catch one more glimpse of her face, she had gone.
He reached out a hand and grasped the bottle of memories. He
stared at its silvery contents, feeling a tight knot in his
chest, and slowly, mechanically, he stood and faced the gargoyle
in front of the headmaster's office.
He chanced one more glance back, half-expecting to see Hermione
coming back down the corridor as he turned around. But no, she'd
gone.
She'd known he had to do this alone. She hadn't wanted to leave
him, and part of him wished he'd entreated her to stay. But both
of them knew, it seemed, that Harry had to finish this... alone.
He took a deep breath, closing his eyes and feeling his heart
give something of a throb. There was so much he hadn't said,
wishing to make saying good-bye easier... but now he found that
his goodbye felt washed in regret.
“There are more important things! Friendship and bravery and--
oh, Harry, do be careful!”
A faint smile reached his mouth as her voice seemed to resound in
his heart, then he opened his eyes.
“You were right, Hermione.” His lips moved in a whisper. “But I
wish you'd finished.”
It's not that difficult to finish, Harry, an echo of her voice
whispered in his mind.
A small smile tugged at his mouth.
Perhaps she hadn't left him quite yet.
and sobs and whispers was too much; he wanted to forget how to
feel, to leave this behind... he knew it was his fault; he knew
he would be blamed.
He turned and ran, clutching the vial of Snape's memories in
sweaty, fumbling hands. The smell of blood and healing potions
caused a bitter taste in his mouth.
“Harry!”
But there was no turning around; no facing it-- for once, Harry
wished to run, to forgo his Gryffindor ties and run away.
“Harry, wait!”
He could hear her panting, hear her footsteps clattering on the
flagstones, and suddenly he stopped, his lungs under immense
pressure... he didn't know whether it was from running or from
the sobs.
“Harry.”
She spoke his name again, and her fingers wound around his,
around the smudged glass vial filled with silvery memories. He
wanted to turn away-- he could not bear to imagine finding her
among the dead, and her presence only made the image more vivid
and more painful.
“Please leave me alone, Hermione--” he choked, “Don't follow me;
don't be with me--”
“Oh, Harry.” she whispered, in a voice of agonized empathy, a
voice that caused him to sink to the stones. She too sat; he
heard the vial clink to the floor.
“Please--”
Her hands slid into his, holding on tightly.
“Harry, I know-- I know there's things you have to do without
me.” her voice trembled, and she hastily cleared her throat. It
didn't help. “I know that. But don't leave me-- not like that--
not--”
She took a shaky breath.
“Not without... not without telling me.”
“I can't promise you that!” he burst out, half-angrily, half-
despairingly, “Don't you get it, Hermione, I can't promise you
anything!”
He heard her gasp, in a way that told him she was struggling not
to cry.
“Then promise-- promise you'll remember me. When it happens, when
you have to--”
She broke off abruptly. He felt her hands quivering in his.
“I'm sorry it worked out this way.” he managed to whisper. “I'm
so sorry, Hermione-- you deserve better from me.”
“Don't you dare apologize!” she said fiercely, her voice suddenly
sharp. “Don't you apologize for this; it's not your fault! None
of it is!”
“That's where you're wrong.” he said, more savagely than he
intended. “You and everyone else have been fighting because he
wants me! Fred and Remus and Tonks died because of me! “
“Oh, there you go again!” she retorted, “Would you look at me?”
He felt his face burn, but he obeyed. Her face was streaked with
tears, but he could see her eyes blazing passionately.
Her hands squeezed his, and she spoke in a low, steady voice, one
quivering fervently, “They died for you, yes, but they also died
for their families. For themselves-- for the future. And they did
not die because of you, they died for you and there's a
difference!”
He jerked his hands away, feeling angry and grateful at the same
time. Something in him had lightened, just slightly, at her
words, but he didn't show it. He couldn't.
“You don't understand.”
“Don't I?” she whispered, her voice breaking again. “I may not
understand your insistence on taking responsibility for
everything that ever happened, but I do understand what it feels
to lose someone. Fred was a friend of mine, too-- the Weasleys
are part of my family, I hate to see Ron and Ginny hurt-- and
their parents and siblings--”
“Oh, fantastic, so you're sad.” Harry said angrily. “Make me feel
even better, will you?”
“Shut up, Harry!” she exploded, “Just-- shut up!”
He was so surprised that he fell silent. Her cheeks were flushed
and eyes were still sharp and bright.
“I don't want to lose you!” she said furiously, her voice high-
pitched and tearful, “I'm not losing you! And I certainly don't
want to keep hearing about how everything is your fault, because
as I've constantly driven into your thick skull, it's not! Don't
you realize how much it hurts me to hear you talk like that? Have
you completely lost your heart as well as your mind? Maybe I'm
not as important to you as Ginny is, maybe I'm not as close to
you as Ron--- I don't know! Maybe I'll never know! But you're
more important to me than anyone in the world and I wish you'd
remember that!”
A ringing silence took over the corridor, as Harry struggled to
let the words sink in. His heart was feeling rather sore from
pounding against his chest-- or maybe that was from hearing her
cry...
“Hermione--” he said thickly, with great difficulty. “Hermione,
I'm sorry.”
She scrubbed at her face and covered her eyes with her hands.
“No, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have... I lost my temper.”
“I don't blame you.” he said sincerely, cautiously stretching out
a hand and squeezing her shoulder. “You're right-- I was being...
I was--”
“... a complete prat, when it comes down to it.” she said in a
muffled voice, and he wished he could smile. But his churning
insides wouldn't allow it.
“Yeah.”
There was another silence, and Hermione finally dropped her
hands. Harry saw with regret how puffy and red her eyes were, and
how wet her cheeks seemed.
“You're important to me, Hermione.” he said finally, and
immediately felt stupid. Of course he'd say something like that;
when his time with her could be very short. “I mean--“
“It's all right.” she hiccupped, with a feeble smile. “Look at
me-- crying all over the place when you-- when you need me to
be...”
She trailed off, swiping her hand across her eyes again. He could
see a shudder pass through her frame.
He wished he could say something to her. He wasn't sure what,
only that he wished to see her smile, really smile...
“I don't mind it if you cry.” he said finally, again feeling that
the statement was incredibly ridiculous. “I reckon it helps
sometimes.”
She nodded.
“I suppose it does.” she agreed, and Harry felt the awkwardness
of the silence settle in the pit of his stomach.
“Hermione, I--” he broke off, trying desperately to find what
exactly he was attempting to say. She looked up, and her eyes
fixed on his. “Look, I'm-- I'm sorry. No--” he said quickly, when
he saw her open her mouth to protest, “Just listen. Let me say
this at least.”
She nodded, obediently closing her mouth and watching him
silently.
His face felt quite hot, and his fingers were suddenly quite
clammy as he rushed on, “I don't know if I've ever told you
this-- actually, I do, I never have-- I'm... Merlin, I'm not very
good with telling you... what I feel, I mean...”
He felt so stupid. Babbling on like a mindless idiot when his
time was slipping away.
“That's all to say... I mean--”
He'd yet to say anything meaningful, anything worth remembering,
and she sat patiently, head tilted back.
“I just.... I wish we could have... I--”
Suddenly, her hand was pressed softly against his cheek, and he
fell silent, his heart sinking.
“Hush.” The whisper broke the silence tenderly. “I understand.”
He closed his eyes, feeling her thumb caress his cheek lightly.
“I'll be fighting for you. And waiting.”
She hesitated.
“I'll always be here.” And her hand pressed against his heart.
“As cliché as it sounds, I'll always be with you.”
Her hand dropped from his chest, and he heard her get up. His
eyes snapped open, and he looked up. “Hermione?”
“Remember what I said.” Her fingers trailed through his hair.
“I could never forget.” he found himself mumbling rather tightly.
“I don't want to.”
She bent and quickly kissed his head.
“I'll see you soon.” she whispered, and before Harry could utter
another word, or catch one more glimpse of her face, she had gone.
He reached out a hand and grasped the bottle of memories. He
stared at its silvery contents, feeling a tight knot in his
chest, and slowly, mechanically, he stood and faced the gargoyle
in front of the headmaster's office.
He chanced one more glance back, half-expecting to see Hermione
coming back down the corridor as he turned around. But no, she'd
gone.
She'd known he had to do this alone. She hadn't wanted to leave
him, and part of him wished he'd entreated her to stay. But both
of them knew, it seemed, that Harry had to finish this... alone.
He took a deep breath, closing his eyes and feeling his heart
give something of a throb. There was so much he hadn't said,
wishing to make saying good-bye easier... but now he found that
his goodbye felt washed in regret.
“There are more important things! Friendship and bravery and--
oh, Harry, do be careful!”
A faint smile reached his mouth as her voice seemed to resound in
his heart, then he opened his eyes.
“You were right, Hermione.” His lips moved in a whisper. “But I
wish you'd finished.”
It's not that difficult to finish, Harry, an echo of her voice
whispered in his mind.
A small smile tugged at his mouth.
Perhaps she hadn't left him quite yet.
| The Ultimate Harry Potter Analysis Source |
| Choosing what is Right over what is Easy |