Slow Grenade

Chapter Fifty-One

Voldemort's voice reverberated around the Shrieking Shack as Hermione stared, transfixed, down at Harry who was kneeling beside Snape's lifeless body.

"You have fought valiantly," said the high, cold voice. "Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery. Yet you have sustained heavy losses. If you continue to resist me, you will all die, one by one. I do not wish this to happen. Lord Voldemort is merciful. I command my forces to retreat, immediately. You have one hour. Dispose of your dead with dignity. Treat your injured."

Hermione shivered, wrapping her arms around herself.

"I speak now, Harry Potter, directly to you. You have permitted your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. I shall wait for one hour in the Forbidden Forest. If, at the end of that hour, you have not come to me, have not given yourself up, then battle recommences. This time, I shall enter the fray myself, Harry Potter, and I shall find you, and I shall punish every last man, woman, and child who has tried to conceal you from me. One hour."

Both Hermione and Ron shook their heads frantically, looking at Harry.

"It'll be alright," said Hermione wildly. "Let's – let's get back to the castle, if he's gone to the Forest we'll need to think of a new plan – "

She glanced again at Snape, fear burning ice cold in her veins, and then hurried back to the tunnel entrance with Harry and Ron.

Small bundles seemed to litter the lawn at the front of the castle. It could only be an hour or so from dawn, yet it was pitch black. The three of them walked quickly towards the stone steps.

The castle was unnaturally silent. There were no flashes of light now, no bangs or screams or shouts. The flagstones of the deserted Entrance Hall were stained with blood.

"Where is everyone?" whispered Hermione.

Ron led the way to the Great Hall. The House tables were gone and the room was crowded. Survivors stood in groups, their arms around each other's necks. The injured were being treated up on a raised platform by Madam Pomfrey and a group of helpers.

The dead lay in a row in the middle of the Hall. Hermione could see the Weasleys stood tightly together. George was kneeling beside Fred and Mrs Weasley was lying across his chest, her body shaking. Mr Weasley stroked her hair while tears cascaded down his cheeks.

Hermione approached Ginny, whose face was swollen and blotchy, and hugged her tightly. As Bill, Fleur, and Percy moved to the side, she had a clear view of the bodies lying next to Fred: Remus and Tonks, pale and still and peaceful looking, apparently asleep beneath the dark, enchanted ceiling.

The familiar feeling of nausea rose within her but she remained stoic. This moment wasn't about her, and she had to remain strong for everyone else.

When she eventually turned around, Harry was nowhere to be seen.

Hermione realised almost immediately where Harry had gone and, to some extent, understood why he had done it. She couldn't help but wonder at the similarities between his departure and Draco's the year prior. Both were doing what they thought best for those around them, and neither could tolerate saying goodbye.

Regardless, this comprehension couldn't eliminate the intense grief that surged through her upon seeing Hagrid walk towards the castle, Harry cradled within his arms.

Voldemort's voice swelled across the grounds and infiltrated her mind. "Harry Potter is dead. He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives for him. We bring you his body as proof that your hero is gone."

She stared rigidly ahead and, as numbness overwhelmed her, no tears bled from her eyes.

"The battle is won. You have lost half of your fighters. My Death Eaters outnumber you and the Boy Who Lived is finished. There must be no more war. Anyone who continues to resist, man, woman, or child, will be slaughtered, as will every member of their family."

"NO!" a voice screamed. Hermione wasn't sure whether it was torn from her own throat or someone else's.

Neville suddenly broke free from the crowd and charged at Voldemort. He was instantly Disarmed and hit the ground.

The boy stood slowly and stared directly into Voldemort's slit-like eyes. In one swift, fluid motion, Neville drew the sword of Gryffindor from behind his back and sliced off Nagini's head.

Voldemort's mouth was open in a scream of fury that nobody could hear as the snake's body thudded to the ground at his feet.

Hermione spun swiftly around as she heard Hagrid yell, "WHERE'S HARRY?"

Chaos reigned.

Staring into the circle that had contained the battle between Harry and Voldemort, Hermione found herself unable to move. The monster that had haunted their lives for so many years was... dead?

One shivering second of silence, the shock of the moment suspended, and then the tumult broke as screams and cheers of the watchers rent the air. The fierce new sun dazzled the windows as they thundered towards Harry; the first to reach him were, of course, Hermione and Ron.

Then Ginny, Neville, and Luna were there, and then all the Weasleys and Hagrid, and Kingsley, McGonagall, Flitwick, and Sprout. Hermione couldn't hear a word that anyone was shouting, nor tell whose hands were pressing against her, determined to touch the Boy Who Lived, the reason it was over at last.

It took a long while but, eventually, she, Harry, and Ron were able to extricate themselves from the crowd. As they walked along the aisles between tables, she noticed Draco and his parents huddled together as though unsure whether or not they were supposed to be there.

She looked to catch Draco's eye, but it was Narcissa who saw her first; her intelligent eyes sparkled and she gave Hermione a secretive smile.

Hermione, Harry, and Ron left the Great Hall. Enormous chunks were missing from the marble staircase, part of the balustrade gone. Rubble and bloodstains occurred every few steps as they climbed.

Happiness would come, Hermione thought, but the current moment was muffled by exhaustion, and the pain of losing Fred, Lupin, and Tonks pierced her like a physical wound every few steps.

As they walked, Harry painstakingly recounted what he had seen in the Pensive and what had happened in the Forest. She could hardly believe it.

Without knowing their destination, the trio reached the Headmaster's study. Harry pushed open the door at the top of the staircase and they heard applause. The Headmasters and Headmistresses of Hogwarts were giving her best friend the standing ovation he so desperately deserved.