The Most Powerful Magic is Love

She lay there, scared and upset, waiting for the beginning of the end. No more pain. No more hurt. No more sadness. No more hate. But aside from that, no more happy memories or times of joy. But she had made her decision and there was no going back now.

As she cast the irreversible spell upon herself, Hermione's thoughts drifted back to the war. There had been so much destruction, so much pain and unhappiness. Now, one of her best friends was dead, and the other was in a coma. Remus Lupin was dead, as was Fleur. Both twins were brutally injured and Bill had yet more gashes to add to his already scarred, handsome face. Now his wife was gone. How would he cope? How would Hermione herself cope with all the misery?

Life just wasn't worth living anymore. That's why she wanted to forget.

Then, her mind drifted back to the happy times. Hanging out with Ginny...playing Quidditch (terribly), celebrating birthdays...her birthday, Ron's, Harry's...

Harry is dead...

The words brought tears to her eyes, but slowly she found the thought slipping away, as the spell took its effect. Harry was merely a name, now. She didn't know anyone by the name Harry.

She thought of Ron and Ginny. They had always been there for her. Ron was one of her first real friends, she realized. Ginny was her girly partner with whom she could talk about things she couldn't with Ron. She remembered Molly and her delicious cooking. She remembered how she loved to fuss over her children as if they were her babies all over again. She remembered her pride when one of them achieved something. She could almost laugh at Ron's red face when she kissed him all over for being made a Prefect.

Soon, the red hair didn't exist. The spell wiped them away.

Then, she thought of her one true love: the man that everyone hated and wanted to kill. She had pitied him, and soon found out that he wasn't really that bad - just trapped. Trapped in between wanting to turn to the light side and being rejected to the Death Eaters. Trapped by the fate of the one man Voldemort ever feared.

The love was Severus Snape.

No! She could not forget about him! How could she ever forget about him? It hurt too much to think that soon he wouldn't exist either. But the spell had been cast and could not been stopped.

Desperately, she fought for her memories, for something to cling onto. She remembered that rainy day and stormy weather. She remembered the beauty of the kiss he had given her, and how it had brightened her day, even during the storm. She remembered how they had to part and leave each other, for fear of being seen. That was the last, and most beautiful kiss she'd ever had.

I can't let go of it, she thought, desperately. That's the one memory I've got to keep.

But even then, she felt the pull against her mind. The battle for the memory was being stretched like elastic, as both Hermione and the spell pulled it in different directions. She clung on with all her might, nearly crying in desperation. Her head hurt terribly from the fight between her and the spell, but she didn't care: she was going to keep it, no matter what.

I must remember, she kept telling herself. I mustn't let go. I must remember.

Even in her already dreamlike state, she felt herself slipping into unconsciousness.

I MUST remember, she cried in her head. I mustn't let go. I CAN'T let go.

Her surroundings started to whirl around her, as she felt herself falling into slumber.

I must remember...

Her surroundings melted into darkness and the now vague memory of the kiss swam to the front of her mind. Nothing else mattered. Nothing mattered more than the kiss.

I must remember...

Her mind began to close. She was not asleep, nor awake, but somewhere in between.

I must remember...

The image began to fade into nothing.

I can't let go...

***

"I can't let go...mustn't...let...go..."

Hermione stirred the next morning, not recognizing where she was or what she was doing there. She cast her mind backwards but trying to remember anything was giving her a headache. She hadn't dreamt that night, but had woken up muttering to herself:

"I mustn't let go," she had said. Let go of what? Everything seemed...lost. She thought of the people she knew. Who did she know? She couldn't think of anybody she knew. Who were her parents? She couldn't answer that one either. Who was her boyfriend, or her true love?

She paused at that question: for some reason, she was able to relate that to her random mutterings.

"I mustn't let go..."

Yet, what was there to hold onto? Something precious, she decided. Something so precious to her, that no matter what happened, she would always hold onto it - and never, ever let it go.

She found herself drifting off again, and let sleep once again overcome her. She let her imagination take over: she imagined rain and an imaginary lover. A lover with greasy, lank black hair that most would hate, and a hooked nose. She invented a scene in which they had to bid the other farewell because of fear of being seen together. Because each had a very different part to play in the war. Yes, she decided it would be in the middle of a war.

Sleep was starting to overcome her, and as it did, the scene became clearer and clearer. She remembered the last kiss - how passionate yet sorrowful it had been, how it had symbolized the togetherness of two people whose family would hate the other. Then, she realized something:

This scene that she'd created, this devastating yet extremely powerful scene she'd created, was the one true memory she'd been desperate to hold onto. The one true memory that proved that love could overcome even the most powerful magic, for love itself was the most powerful magic.