In Silentio Veritas

In Silentio Veritas by Christie Shadow

You stood by the coffin, crying the last tears that filled you eyes, as did I. The faint beams of the twilight were in your heart, therefore reflected in your eyes; your deep brown eyes without the sparkle of happiness I usually saw in them. Tears running down your clear and innocent face took my breath away. My heart was torn apart.

We both knew that this was the end, yet we wouldn't accept it. This couldn't end, this was meant to last forever. Like the Phoenix, reborn again and again, in the same shape, in the same situation.

We all cried. Every single one of us. Tears of sorrow, tears of pain, tears of anger, and tears of agony.

I think that the Hero would have despised this, despised it with all his heart, and he would have shouted at us.

None of us really cared. He was gone.

Both you and I knew, deep down in our hearts, that when this was over, when we both left this place today, we would live our own lives, far away from this place, and that was what scared me most of all. That we, who were meant to be as one, really could be divided. But I knew that we truly could. We already was.

Because we had been divided from the second his brave heart stopped beating, from the moment he closed his emerald green eyes with a jolt of pain, a pain that lasted long enough to make you cry. Oh, you cried, Hermione, you cried so I thought that you would dry up and die along with him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I remembered clearly, way too clear, four days ago in Godric's Hollow, when Harry and You-Know-Who died.

We had finally chased You-Know-Who there, and the final battle was about to be fought. We showed up, only the three of us, against 30 Death Eaters and You-Know-Who himself. We fought in a long time, and sometime during the fight, the pain and regret of killing other people, even Death Eaters, disappeared, and was replaced by a cold carelessness.

And finally - finally - only You-Know-Who was left. And as we had promised Harry, we sank down on the floor and left him to fight this, the last fight alone, as he always had been mend to.

You-Know-Who lifted his wand to cast the final spell. To finally kill us. And then Harry lifted his wand, muttered under his breath "Expelliarmus!", and You-Know-Whos wand flew out of his grasp, and into Harry's hand. Harry looked up at You-Know-Who with a strange gaze. I couldn't tell why, but he looked sad in a way I'd never understand. And he snapped the wand into two pieces.

Blood began dripping from the broken wand in Harry's hands, blood stained his robe and his cloak.

I looked at Harry. His emerald green eyes were shining, bright as in fever. His fist, holding the blood-dripping wand, was clenched. He opened his mouth, and said with a cool, dry tone in his voice, in a voice so calm that I began to compare it with the Siberian wind, there's so chilly that birds falls dead to the ground when stroke by it:

"You killed my parents. You murdered Cedric. You caused Sirius' death, even if one can't really blame you. You tried to get rid of Ron's dad. You killed his mother. You even tried to kill my humanity when you killed Dumbledore. But I'm not stupid anymore. I knew you were trying to break my will and get me off hunting you, so you could kill me easily. But I knew that I couldn't kill you with rash actions. And now, in a minute, I'm going to fulfil that damned prophesy, so I finally can get some peace."

With the messy hair and round glasses, the slight building and sad face, Harry still didn't look like a Hero. He wasn't handsome like Cedric had been. He wasn't beautiful like cold, sharp ice, like Draco was. But every part of him was a hero.

"Avada Kadavra". I heard the silent mutter, but could that icy, cold voice really be Harry's?? I felt a heavy stone crash my stomach, it fell from my heart and down in my stomach because of his icy words. I know what pain it gave him to mutter those words, and I knew it would change him forever.

Harry raised his own wand, the wand who had saved his life several times. The wand who held a feather from Fawkes, the wand who was twin to You-Know-Who's own.

You-Know-Who ran forward, less elegant than his famous Dementors, but his feet brought him closer to Harry that I really liked, and I was about to rose from the floor to do something, when...

The moment froze in my memory, You-Know-Who reaching out to catch something or someone, screamed voicelessly and was suddenly stroke in the chest by a dark, green light.

And then he vanished.

Nothing was left, only the faint sound of the wind, blowing through the ruins of Godric's Hollow.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You and I sat on the floor, or what was left of it, surrounded by darkness. We had been sitting here the last hours of the battle, too tired to stand up, too brave (or stupid) to fly, too tired to think of being afraid. And suddenly, it was over. A fight, we had fought with Harry in more than 7 years, a battle he had fought in more than 17.

A battle Harry had finally won. It was kind of an anti-climax.... And then his enemy, during 17 years, was suddenly gone. The silence was almost unbearable. I didn't know what to say.

Harry turned to look at us, and in the twilight, he smiled. The moonlight bathed him in silver, it stroke his face and lightened it up, lightened up his smile. His last smile. When I later tried to picture him, this was the picture I recalled: The tan, tall boy with messy hair, hand's spilled with blood, glasses and that smile, the relief he must have felt in that moment, when he finally got revenge. It was a bittersweet smile, and the moonlight lined up every angle of his face.

And then - then the golden flame burst out of You-Know-Whos broken wand at his feet, and surrounded him. He was visible in it, a dark shadow in a light flame. I got up and ran towards him, you were right behind me. We stood in front of him, or where he had just been standing, when the flame disappeared.

We stood directly in front of him. He was still standing. And he looked at us.

His eyes were empty, and I noticed unconsciously that his scar was gone. "Harry...?"

He fell face first down on the floor. And I knew. I knew he was dead.

I cried. My tears was hot and my anger rash, as I fell down on my knees in a house I had never visited before.

I knew I had lost something that I couldn't live without. I had lost more than a friend, more than a soul-brother. I had lost a piece of my heart. A piece that I wouldn't let go. I screamed like, if someone was trying to rib my heart out of my chest, like someone was tearing my body apart, like if someone was cutting off my throat. And it felt like that. A pain so unbearable, that I felt like I could die, that I would die, so I could be buried next to him, forever would be with him, no matter what.

He divided us with his death, with his pain, with his eyes. The Trio's blood-bound, knowledge-bound and love-bound friendship was forever broken.

And I screamed. Every painful memory, every wound I ever received in this battle, was screamed out somewhere in a little town, in a house that long time ago had held the family of his.

It was a hoot like the wolfs lonely hoot, a cry like a wildly depressed pumas cry. It was a lonely fellows sorrow in one long scream, filled with only one word, that told anyone my truly denial: "Nooooo! No! NO!NOOOO!"

The only positive thought I could think, while I was rocking back and forth, arms around my knees, tears streaming down my freckled cheeks, was that he would never know our pain, our sorrow, the agony of pain that filled us in the moment he fell.

You looked at him too, with an expression of deep shock and denial. Your clever head couldn't accept the fact, your eyes told you so surely. He was dead. But your hands gently pushed his shoulder, your voice was sweet when you whispered:" Come on, get up. Please, wake up, it's not funny. Get up, Harry..." But nothing happened.

"He's dead, Mione." My voice was toneless, and my eyes were wet.

"He can't be dead, his just playing!!" You shook his shoulders, and turned him around. He stared up in the velvet black sky with his empty eyes.

I lend forward and grabbed your hands, willed your face up, so your brown eyes met mine.

"Hermione Jane Granger... He's dead. For God's sake, Hermione, he's dead!"

Your expression shifted from confusion to denial. And to understanding.

You reached out for me, and as always, I was there to grab you. I grabbed you and held you tight, we entwined in a sorrow so deep and unbearable, and yet so familiar, that it felt like dying.

We were so shocked, both of us, too shocked for crying.

When the mediwizards arrived at Godric's Hollow, you and I were entangled so tightly that they couldn't separate us. And when they finally did separate us, we cried, cried and reached for each other, begging for the other one to tell something that could heal the wounds.

Only we couldn't, neither of us had the words or the facts that could ease the pain.

We had been standing together, the three of us for so long, that a life without the other two just wasn't real. We couldn't imagine it. That was the reason why we all showed up. We were young, and because of that, we thought that we were immortal, like our enemy.

We wanted to win, to raise afterwards in triumph and shout our victory out, because we knew that Harry would defeat You-Know-Who.

And he did.

But no one hat told us what would happen if he did defeat him.

None of us, not even Dumbledore, had expected what happened, when the evilest wizard ever to live, fell dead on the ground, in the mortal death he so much wanted to avoid. No one expected our Hero's famous scar to disappear suddenly. None of us, except for maybe Harry, maybe You-Know-Who, knew.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The white curtains in the old bedroom of Sirius Black, now Harry James Potter's lit de parade, blew softly from the incoming wind. The same wind stroke my red hair, and made the tears on my cheeks cold.

He was so peaceful to look at, lying there in the coffin, wearing his bottle green cloak, the one Mom bought him last year, and white t-shirt. His eyes were closed, and he looked like he was sleeping.

I wished he was. I wished he would sit up, chuckle at me, and scream. "Got you! Just kidding!"

But Harry lay still in his white coffin under the glass window, that Remus had insisted to be put over. 'Cause this wasn't just a goodbye from his friends and fellows. This was a goodbye from the entire Magic community.

I think there had been hundreds, no, thousands of wizards and witches since we opened the door at Twelve Grimmauld Place this morning. I didn't knew the half of the people, and I was sure that Harry hadn't either, they all cried and kept saying, "This was tragically, he was so young, and how did he die?"

The question everyone asked, but not the right question for the answer. The question was why. We didn't knew the answer. And we hadn't even tried to answer a single question from those who dared to ask.

A soft cough forced me to look up. Ginny was nodding at Remus, who sighed deeply, and walked slowly over to the coffin. His shoulders hang, his cloak was black, and the hood was thrown back from his old, wrinkled face and the completely white hair.

He lifted slowly the glass roof of the coffin, and lay it beside it.

Then he looked up at the gathered people.

We weren't many, since the war had taken far too many lives. Harry was the last one that had died.

We few were the only ones left; Ginny, the twins, Snape, McGonagall, you and I... and Remus. Bill was in America, recovering from a deadly wound in the heart, a wound Draco Malfoy kindly had given him under a fighting in Diagon Alley. Charlie was at the churchyard this very moment, waiting for us to come. Mom and dad was dead, killed by Death Eaters. Percy... no one knew where Percy was. Probably dead. He had vanished after a meeting in the Order, and had never shown up since.

"We are gathered this morning, at this beautiful summer day." Remus said, waving a hand at the window. "Today, it's 31st of July. It's 18 years since Lily Potter gave birth to this boy. It's nearly 17 years since she died. We're here because her son is dead. Harry James Potter, born by Lily and James Potter, died a young dead. None of us could have foreseen this". He unconsciously let a tear fall from his eye while he looked down at the coffin, it ran down his face that seemed to grow older and older minute after minute. In these past 4 years, and specially these past 3 days, he had grown to look older than Dumbledore. His hair was completely white now. "If we had, things would have been different. We..." Remus' voice creaked, and was filled with sobs, when he fell down on his knees. No one said anything, no one moved. In these past days, we had each learned to respect each others expressions of sorrow. "we... I hate speeches..."

I couldn't see you anymore, save from the blurred shadow of a dark person standing next to the coffin.

"This wasn't fair. You died, and even I survived... Oh Harry!" Remus whispered and looked up at the coffin. "First James. Sirius next. Finally Peter. And I keep on living, even though I have nothing to live for. "

You moved down next to Remus, and hugged him. "That's not true, Remus. There's still me and Ron. We would love to have you staying."

Together, as you two sat down there, Remus with the snow-white hair, and you with the dark bossy brown, it sounded like you truly believed that we would stay together.

Only we couldn't. It would kill us both. I would never could accept Harry's death, and with you around, it would be even harder,' cause if I remembered how sorry he was when he died, I would hate myself for being happy.

And I knew you felt the same. And even though, you tried to convince Remus that he should stay. How cruel.

"World will never be the same again, Harry", I whispered for myself. "Without you, we will all be separated. You were the bounds that kept us together, the reason we stayed here. Now... we will all fly away in our own direction, just trying to forget. And we all know that we can't."

Remus rose to his feet again, and hugged you tightly. "I know, Hermione. But I can't. "

He stepped over and bend his white head over the coffin. A soft kiss was placed on Harry's forehead, where his famous scar had been in 17 years. Next to his body, a bunch of white lily's was placed. With a sigh, Remus looked up and watched us. It was the gaze of a broken heart, broken so many times that it couldn't heal. It was the gaze of a soul, wounded over and over again. And I knew that we would never see him again, when he turned and left the room, black cloak blowing after him.

"Remus..." A faint whisper flew from my lips, and I knew that he was gone.

My heart had stopped beating, the heart's moving in my chest felt like a dull, pounding pain, nowhere to be recognized as beating. "I can't cry anymore", I thought dizzily, "my tears must have run up a long time ago." And yet they kept running, running, running.

I clenched my fists in a despondent manner. My bitten nails ducked into the skin in my palm, and I welcomed the pain. At least it stopped my tears, if only momentarily.

I turned to look out of the window, tears streaming down my face again. Couldn't they just stop running??

I felt your arms around my waist, and I could hear the weak sound of your sobbing. I turned, and lay my arms around your slim body, as you cried into my cloak. Silent sobs, silent tears.

"Shh, Hermione. Shh..."

The other ones in the room did as Remus, walked over to the coffin, lay their flowers in it, kissed Harry's forehead, and walked out of the door without a greeting or a farewell.

First Ginny. Her golden tiger lily's in a bunch beside his head. Then Fred and George with forget-me-never's under his feet. Snape didn't give him any flowers, nor did he kiss him. He looked once at him, with a gaze filled with both hate and sorrow.

McGonagall had two bunches of white roses and lily's, she lay one on each side of him. The faint sounds of their cloaks, slipping through the air, was the only sound heard.

And suddenly, only you and I were left.

We stood there, together, next to each other as we had stood together always. When Harry was facing death, you and I were the ones that waited, in silence, for him to come back. We never did anything, but waited loyal for him to return in our little, close circle.

We had in many years shared a deep passion for each other, you and I, but had never shown it. We had never touched each other, never kissed. We had shared the thought once - in the holidays between sixth and seventh year. And we had agreed to keep it as a secret, for Harry's sake.

And now, we were suddenly free to do whatever we wanted, and yet more bounded than before.

We couldn't do it against his memory, we just couldn't.

I knew what you thought - that we would have to hide it for everyone. I just wouldn't. I was sick and tired of hiding things, feelings, secrets for everyone, even myself.

I turned to gaze at you, down in your deep brown eyes. And then I did exactly what I had dreamed of doing, what I had wanted to do in more than 5 years - I bend down and kissed you.

Firstly, you froze, but then you lend into it and kissed me back.

And then you pulled yourself free.

"What are you playing at?? Why are you making it so much harder?" You squeezed it in a harsh voice, I had never heard you use before.

"I.. I just can't bear it." The most stupid thing I've ever said.

You frowned.

"Oh, and you think it's not at all hard for me? You think I can bear it? Well, you're really wrong then, Ronald Bilius Weasley!!" You screamed, and placed you hands at you hips like when we both were 14. Only we weren't anymore.

"No, Hermione Jane Granger, if we're really down on that level, I don't. I just don't want to hide things."

You looked down, and muttered. "We don't have to hide it. We could just go in different ways."

And then you looked up at me again.

It hit me, once again, right in my stomach with an overwhelming strength: Everything we had shared, everything we knew about each other, the way we read each others mind... If we left alone today, it would be gone. People change. We had changed.

"You know it, Ron. It's just because you're so stubborn that you won't accept it. We can't stay together. It would kill us both."

And I knew. And you were so right. It would kill us both. And I had known it, ever since I woke up to this beautiful morning, that today would be the last time I saw you.

You stood there in front of me, all pale and dark-haired, your nut-brown eyes the only colour in your white face.

And I went silent. What could I say that could change anything??

Nothing. Everything I said was just a pointless escape from the painful truth.

So I was silent. The silence filled the room, and as always, you read my mind.

"Goodbye, Ron. I love you," you whispered under your breath, and turned to drop the red roses in the coffin. And then you left.

I saw you go as a blurred shadow out of the corner of my eyes.

And I fell on my knees again, one question was flying around in my head.

If Harry had survived, would this had been different? Would I had let you walk out of my life, if only he had lived? I don't know.

And I was never going to know.

Once again, tears were running. I kept holding them back, as I had held back my feelings.

And I knew I couldn't let you walk out of my life without saying goodbye.

I rose to my feet. "Hermione!" I called.

You couldn't be gone already, could you??

I ran out of the door, not a single look back at the white coffin. "Hermione!" I shouted as I ran down the familiar corridors. "Hermione!!"

"Yes?"

You were standing in the Hall, where old Mrs. Black had once had her portrait, wearing your black cloak and black gloves. I felt my heart pound painfully again, as always when you stood like that. You was never beautiful, like Parvati or Lavender who were naturally beauties, but the things you did and the wisdom that made you do it, made you beautiful.

"I.. I just... I just wanted to..."

"To what?"

"To tell you that I love you. Don't go, please. Stay. Go with me to the churchyard as you promised."

I met your eyes. I begged you.

"All right, then. "

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

We buried the white coffin next to the great mausoleum that held his parent's.

Lily and James Potter was written in bold Latin over the dove that carried the twig of peace. I hoped that Harry would find peace, wherever he was going. Personally, I was sure he would go to Heaven, if there ever were a Heaven, he would go there. He deserved it.

The same wind blew through the churchyard, as the priest talked and talked and talked. It was all Latin, and I had probably understood it all if I'd really wanted too. But I was looking at you.

When the last soil was thrown, the last words spoken, they left, and once again, you and I were left alone.

Charlie smiled before he left. It was a faint smile, but a smile. He looked much older now. His eyes were red from crying.

"You're coming home to the Burrow later, right, Ronnie?"

I nodded. Where else could I go?

"I'm glad you went with me, Hermione," I said, my Gryffindor courage failing me, I couldn't look in your eyes.

"Me too."

"Would you have gone with me, if Harry had lived?" I suddenly asked. I don't know where the courage came from, I just knew I had to ask.

Silence. Silence had dominated every wicked part of this end. Someone once told me, I think it was Dumbledore, that in the silence lies the truth.

You looked up at me, with brown eyes filled with tears. I felt I could fall into those eyes, fall and fall and fall, and keep falling until Judgement Day. I loved you, and I would go to the end and back for your sake.

Did you love me back? Would you go with me?

My eyes kept asking the questions, and your eyes kept avoiding them. You didn't say a word.

In Silentio Veritas. In silence lies truth.

And I knew.