Clockwork

>> Chapter 1: "Prologue" Part I <<

Seated upon the charred remains of Hagrid's front steps, her hair alight with the last rays of sunset, she mourned. Tears of regret cleansed streaks of filth from her cheeks. Torn and blackened robes were the barest reminder of these last few days. It would take many long years to recover; before any sense of normality could be restored. The scars ran too deep to fade, the pain too recent to be cured.

She was furious with herself. These weeks could have been avoided entirely if she had not been so blind and careless. Even with the little time she had, research and time would have revealed the possibilities safely. But she had been careless in planning and overlooked so much regardless of her knowledge. Now the regret was too much to bear. Plunging blindly into something, common sense lacking, was not how she liked to carry out her tasks. Yet she had, driven by an emotion she would never feel again.

Fuming, she stood and made her way through the wreckage toward the crumbling castle. She attempted to force herself to keep from glancing down. Her fellow students, her friends, dead at her feet. Cold staring eyes penetrated deep into her conscious, blaming her for their suffering. Silently she sobbed as memories flooded back to her. Forgotten days of laughter and blissful innocence. The uncertainties of childhood, the triumphs and challenges. She'd shared it all with so many other people that it would be impossible to forget. There would be no more late night visits, no pranks on the Slytherins, nights spent labouring over Snape's treacherous essays, quidditch games, house points, nothing. Never again.

Among the faces; Lavender, Neville, Seamus, Padma and Parvati, Dean, Colin, Wayne, Ernie, Lisa...

and Harry.

Oh Harry, I did this for you. Just to save you. Look at the mess it's made of everything we fought for. This isn't the future we meant to create... everything is wrong.

With trembling hands she pushed open one of the heavy oak doors and entered what was left of Hogwarts. The Great Hall, largest room remaining in the school, served as the temporary infirmary. She quickened her pace, stumbling past the rows of beds. She was already late for her meeting with Dumbledore.

"Ah, you've arrived Miss Granger," voiced the headmaster, "I'm glad you came. I realize how disheartening this situation is. Please, sit down," he gestured to a nearby hospital cot, "I am afraid this will have do for now." Hermione silently took a seat beside the aged wizard avoiding his concerned gaze.

"How are they Professor?" she murmured.

"The cases with physical wounds will be well recovered within a week or two. The others," he glanced at the beds along the opposite wall, "will require far longer considering the... the absence... of Madam Pomfrey and of course the proper healing supplies. We are tremendously lucky that Hannah and Justin recovered so quickly on their own and also managed to retain much of what they studied with Poppy. Hermione's eyes welled with fresh tears at the mention of the nurse's name. Another casualty she was responsible for. Seeing her distress Dumbledore put an arm around her and pulled his pupil closer.

"Shhh, my dear, none of this is your fault. You mustn't place blame on yourself for all that has happened here. In fact, when it comes down to it, I am much more at fault than you ever could be." But despite his kind heartfelt words, Hermione judged she would be subjected to these feelings for the rest of her days. Burying her head deeper into his purple robes she allowed her tears to flow freely.

Dumbledore let out a heavy sigh, contemplating what he needed to propose. Perhaps this was not the right time to introduce it; the young witch might not accept the wild possibility... Against his side the sobbing began to subside. Gently he allowed Hermione to sit up and wipe the last teardrops from her flushed cheeks.

"May I go, Professor?" Hermione softly asked. Dumbledore noted the need in her voice and determined quickly that it would be for the best.

"Of course," he answered gently as she stood to leave, "I hope we will see you at dinner tonight. Minerva and I would enjoy your presence." Hermione nodded her understanding before exiting the dim room. Once she was out of sight the headmaster followed Hermione's path to the door, thanking Justin who had just returned with fresh bandages.

He made his way down the dishevelled hallways levitating broken stones and debris out of his path. McGonagall's room lay at the end of a short corridor near an abandoned side entrance. Dumbledore paused briefly in the doorway, brushed the loose dust off of his robes and stepped inside his colleague's room.

"I'd be more comfortable speaking with a two legged witch than a feline, Minerva. If you please..." The grey tabby sitting on the window sill sprung down to the floor and transformed into the weary Professor McGonagall.

"I wasn't expecting you so soon Albus, please forgive the mess. I've been too preoccupied to tidy up," she apologized.

"Quite alright, I assure you. I never expected you to clean up for me," Dumbledore chuckled. He flicked his wands at a stack of books removing them from an ancient dust-laden armchair. "May I?" he motioned towards it. McGonagall raised her eyebrows at his choice of accommodation and nodded, finding herself a seat in an adjacent chair.

She opened her mouth to speak and froze midway as Dumbledore raised his hand.

"I know what you are going to ask me, Minerva. But I could not bring it upon myself to ask her. In her eyes I could see that she hasn't begun to accept the truth of what has happened. She just will not take into consideration that she is not the only one to blame. I honestly do not think that she would make the right choice. Grief plays havoc on one's cognitive resources; denial is even more disruptive, Dealing with people in similar emotional states to Miss Granger is difficult. You must persuade them that you truly empathize with them to gain absolute trust. I'm not sure she is at that point a full one hundred percent. We both know it will be crucial that agrees to go back."

"When then do you intend to do it? Albus, we already have only a limited time before there are no options left. She must answer by tomorrow if we are to do this at all. I would take it upon myself to confront her, but as you mentioned yesterday she trusts you more."

"I'm not sure this is the right thing to do anymore."

"It is, this is all we can do."

"I couldn't live knowing she--"

"This isn't about your life; it's about the lives of the children we sent to be slaughtered. The witches and wizards who gave their lives when in the end it only came down to one person and one person alone."

"At the very least we could plan to save him as well..."

"No. We made that mistake once; that's how we got here."

"I swore to protect him."

"And you did; long enough. Albus, listen to me, trust me," She took his hands in hers, pulling him close. "You have to let him go."

>> End of Chapter 1 <<