Slow Grenade

Chapter Forty-Five

She leapt to her feet, looking frantically around the darkened room. Draco was nowhere to be seen. The only remnant of their evening together was the blanket they had slept on, everything else had been removed.

On shaky legs, Hermione ran to the doors of the library - she could hear shouting out in the hallway.

"Hermione?" Ron screamed. "Hermione!"

She raced towards him and he grabbed hold of her shoulders. "Where have you been? Thank Godric you're safe..."

"Safe?" she choked. "What are you talking about?"

Ron shook his head. "Not here," he said. "Come with me."

As they entered the hospital wing, Ron caught her hand with his and gave a weak smile. Hermione had to hold back a gasp as he nodded in the direction of one of the beds. Bill lay propped up on pillows and she could see a deep red gash sliced across his face.

Before she could move towards him, she was enveloped in a crushing hug. Ginny held onto her tightly. "We've been so worried about you," she cried.

"I'm really sorry, Gin, I didn't know," Hermione mumbled. "What's happened?"

Ginny stepped back and looked at the group that had formed around them. The entire Weasley family were present, as well as Lupin, Tonks, and Harry.

"That's what we were just about to discuss," Harry said, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

There were suddenly so many voices talking at once, Hermione struggled to piece all of the information together.

From what she could gather, Draco had left her in the library to allow Death Eaters entry into the castle through the cabinet he had been attempting to fix - the one in the Room of Requirement. A battle had ensued once the Order and the DA had been alerted to intruders, this gave Draco the opportunity to slip away and complete his 'task'.

Eventually, Harry's voice was the only one remaining. He said that he had heard fear in Draco's voice as he confronted Dumbledore, and maintained that he was lowering his wand before the other Death Eaters arrived. In the end, it was Snape who had killed their Headmaster.

Silence fell and Hermione's breath became shallow, like short panting gasps. Her vision blurred and her fingers tingled. She felt as though her heart might burst from her chest as she sunk slowly to the floor.

All lessons were suspended, all examinations postponed. Some students were hurried away from Hogwarts by their parents over the next couple of days; others refused point-blank to leave without attending their Headmaster's funeral.

Hermione, Harry, Ron, and Ginny were spending all of their time in each other's company. The beautiful weather seemed to mock them; Hermione could imagine how it would have been if Dumbledore had not died, if Draco hadn't abandoned her, and they had this time together at the very end of the year.

The feeling of betrayal was one of the hardest to endure. It caused physical pain, as though her heart really had been broken into two. Hermione replayed their last night together over and over in her mind, desperately seeking understanding, an explanation for why he had left her alone to enact Voldemort's wishes.

She ruminated constantly about the unknown: what could she have done differently? Were there questions that should have been asked, conversations that should have been pushed? What if she had done what Draco asked her not to and confided in Dumbledore, could she have prevented everything that had occurred? Guilt hung heavy in her stomach.

Amongst the emotional upheaval, Hermione was also scared for Draco. Whilst the task was fulfilled, he was not the one to commit the unforgivable act. She could only assume that Snape had taken him back to the Manor - would he be punished or celebrated?

In an attempt to escape the pain, Hermione threw herself into researching the Horcrux that Harry and Dumbledore had retrieved from the cave. As hard as she tried and as many hours as she filled, she couldn't figure out what R.A.B. might stand for.

It was a beautiful funeral. Hundreds of mourners arrived to pay their respects and honour the late Albus Dumbledore. Hermione's tears had flowed readily until her eyes burned and she wasn't sure who or what she was crying for anymore.

When she, Harry, and Ron finally had a moment alone, they were standing in the grounds looking up at the castle.

"I can't bear the idea that we might never come back," she said softly. "How can Hogwarts close?"

"Maybe it won't," Ron mused. "We're not in any more danger here than we are at home, are we? Everywhere's the same now. I'd even say Hogwarts is safer, there are more wizards inside to defend the place. What d'you reckon, Harry?"

"I'm not coming back, even if it does reopen."

Ron gaped at him, but Hermione smiled sadly. "I knew you were going to say that. But then what will you do?"

"I'm going back to the Dursley's once more, because Dumbledore wanted me to," Harry replied. "It'll be a short visit, and then I'll be gone for good."

"But where will you go if you don't come back to school?"

"Then I've got to track down the rest of the Horcruxes, haven't I? That's what he wanted me to do, that's why he told me all about them. If Dumbledore was right – and I'm sure he was – there are still four of them out there. I've got to find them and destroy them and then I've got to go after the seventh bit of Voldemort's soul, the bit that's still in his body, and I'm the one who's going to kill him."

There was a long silence. The crowd had almost fully dispersed.

It was Ron who spoke first, "We'll be there, Harry."

"What?"

"At your aunt and uncle's house, and then we'll go with you, wherever you're going."

"No – "

"You said to us once before," Hermione said quietly, linking hands with them both, "that there was a time to turn back if we wanted to. We've had time, haven't we?"

"We're with you, whatever happens," Ron added.