Starlit Waltz

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She waltzed on. Each step perfect, each step empty, shallow and meaningless. Her face bore a smile; a mask, an empty jest for her partner's benefit and his alone. The candlelight from the tabletops danced in her eyes, creating what she knew would appear to be a joyous twinkle, making the meek, forced smile seem genuine to all who did not know her. The lights from those same candles played with the glitter in her hair, enhanced by the sheen the overhanging moon created.

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They danced on. The night truly was beautiful, was it not? Perfect one might say; one who knew her not. After all, the moon was full, the sky void of the smallest specks of clouds. The air was warm, even in her violet evening gown. There was no wind, no rain, no chill, no danger lurking here this night; not now.

"You dance splendidly my dear ..." her partner commented as the music died down, bowing respectfully.

"Thank you." She could not believe it took so much effort to make her lips curve up, even slightly. And after all her lifetime of eloquence, a meager 'thank you' was all she could mutter... oh how she had fallen!

"Are you tired?"

"No, no, " she replied, even as she felt her smile fall a bit, feeling no more than half-aware, "we can dance."

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She always felt this way now, as if she was simply going through the motions without having so much as an inkling of reality or purpose. Reality...purpose... did she even know what they were? The man smiled, the next song already starting up.

"As you wish, just be sure not to exhaust yourself too quickly; it will prove a long night, I'm sure."

"I know." She nodded, taking his arm once more.

She had wanted to say 'I know, Zack', but she wasn't sure. Was he Zack? No, somehow the name didn't fit. Matthew perhaps? Charlie? She did not know. She did not care either. It pained her to realize just how little she cared, how little not caring bothered her, but she couldn't fathom a way to change it.

How could she? Could she tell him; tell this boy? Boy? Oh yes, he was a boy. He was a mere child in her eyes. He was what, twenty? Twenty-five? Thirty perhaps? He looked like a man, that was true, but he hadn't had the need to grow up. He hadn't seen life; none of the people here have. Their eyes were all the same; bright, rich, curious and playful. Carefree. That was the word; carefree. That's what they all were. Not fully perhaps, but close enough. Not fully alive either. Oh how she wished to be like them.

Tell him the sky is falling and he'll laugh, tell him he might die tomorrow and he'll think you insane. What did he know; what did any of these people know? Sure, the boy could probably do derivatives in his sleep, recite Shakespeare at the drop of a hat and play Mendelssohn with the utmost ease ...after all, he had gone to Harvard, or Princeton, or Yale, or some such place... But what did he know?

Years ago, before any of this, she would have thought he knew everything. Not anymore. What good were books? What good was all this knowledge that they so greedily coveted? She saw them all; saw them all through the eyes of a longing observer. What good were books indeed.

Couples were dancing, like her, dancing close to each other as the slow music flowed on, as if they were entranced by it. She wasn't. Her feet were automatons moving in beat to the familiar tune. Her mind was not in it however. Her mind was on the long-gone past; a past that had forsaken her and was in turn, by her, forsaken.

She had to fight the desire to cringe as her gaze turned towards the sky. Oh, how she missed them- the stars. Muggles did not notice of course; some half-ass explanations, some memory charms, some spells and none had a second thought... if any did they would have figured themselves crazy or delusional by now. Oh how she missed the stars!

"I AM GOING TO KILL HIM!" Harry yelled as he practically slammed the portrait. "I don't know who I hate more; him or Voldemort."

"Harry!" she had snapped back, scorning his train of thought. Harry might not have liked the headmaster, not after Sirius' death anyway, but by Merlin he would not say such things in her presence.

"Fine 'Mione, but he's a close second... he's refusing to do anything!"

"He should have done something..." she whispered, a lone tear falling down her cheek.

"Huh?"

"Oh, nothing; I was just thinking about something long gone." She blushed slightly, mentally kicking herself for the slip as she wiped the rogue tear without him noticing. The memories were so vivid at times... Voldemort had really gone over the line that time; Dumbledore should have done something... he should have at least let them do something. But all they did was stand and watch.

The Dark Lord's plan was based on one of Merlin's own teachings. The great Mage had said that the reason one could find no beginning, end or source of Magic was that people see only the small speck of magic that interacts with their everyday life. Earth is connected to everything else in the great vastness of the universe and everything else is, in turn, connected to it. Because of this, none could truly delete something entirely while those connections remained. The rest of the universe would replenish what was taken out of Earth. If one was to scorch all the grass, for instance, seeds would come from elsewhere- if they were given enough time.

Voldemort's answer; delete the connections.

Ron stood just out of her reach, embracing his little sister as if the girl's life depended upon his embrace. Everyone was there, crowding the Quidditch pitch. Awe was clearly written on everyone's face, eyes locked skyward. In that moment, there were no houses. No one spoke; Gryffindors and Slytherins did not cringe at being hip-to-hip with each other, no insults flew, no hostility could be found by even the keenest observers. None whatsoever. They might have been one; Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, if not for the colors of their badges. And as one, they all stared at the night sky where the stars burned and bled in trails of light.

She could hear some boys cry and whimper, the older ones fell to their knees in shock and the girls...they seemed to turn into stone statues, frozen in disbelief as they were. The heavens were falling. Even when it looked like the simple star-stream spells that took the appearance of huge meteor showers, they all knew this was different. They all knew they'd never see the beautiful lights again, not a person in the entire school had stayed behind, every last one of them gathered on the pitch, desperate to keep the heavenly lights in their memory forever.

Someone pulled her in, wrapping his arms around her from behind. She leaned back into the embrace, only half caring whom it was. Her eyes were tearing up and she had felt her knees go weak quite some time ago. The arms, whomever they belonged to, helped her not lose herself completely.

"I'm leaving tomorrow." The statement was whispered, a chin gently placed upon her shoulder.

The worst feeling overtook her, as if that was the only thing left to delete her entire world. She turned, in a panic, pivoting on her heel to look into his eyes.

"No." she pleaded, half in panic.

"I have to..."

"Please, I can't lose you too!" she begged, sinking her tear-stained face into his chest.

"You won't lose me."

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The waltz played again, somewhat slower than before. The boy was gone now, gone and seemingly wiped from her memory at the same time. Meaningless; as if he never existed at all. She was dancing with Harry now, his deep, green eyes locked with hers. Her darling Harry. All eyes were on her, staring, following her flowing moves across the floor. She didn't notice them. She didn't notice how the couples parted before her and stop as she passed. She didn't notice anything, only his eyes. Oh how different they were from those of the child she'd looked upon earlier. What passion they held, what power. She could see the essence of the universe in his eyes; she could see the very stars within their depths. Oh what pain his eyes held, what longing, what loss... she could see lifetimes of grief and sorrow in his eyes, lifetimes of struggles and heartache. She could see the experience and calm in them, such strong character and wealth of wisdom. Oh what passion and love was in his eyes, oh how it engulfed her! So what if Harry could not quote Shakespeare or use a computer? What he knew had the power to save the damned and defeat the immortal.

She could feel the pounding of his heart, mimicking the beat of the song.

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She pulled in closer, as if becoming part of his very essence. She could feel the warmth of his body, smell the light layer of that sharp aftershave he wore and feel his hand running through her hair. She leaned into his touch, feeling the eyes of the entire hall on her. Let them stare. Let their eyes bore into her. She had Harry.

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Hermione fingered the wineglass, not really wanting to be here anymore. The small intimate tables, the satin tablecloths; all showy, all fake. She didn't belong here, Merlin she didn't belong here! Finally, she brought the cup to her lips, wishing it were something stronger than the dark red liquid; vodka perhaps.

"You promised you wouldn't leave me..." she whispered to no one.

Harry smiled at her;

"I promised what I had to promise; I did what needed to be done," she could hear him say.

"So did I Harry," a sniffle, "so did I."

At times like these, the longing returned, the hole in her heart only the past could fill. At times she almost believed she could return; take back her wand, put on a robe and enchant her life once more. Those times were the most painful for it was immediately after them she had to remind herself that she could not return. It was those times she had to remind herself that she had snapped her wand and sworn off magic forever. She also had to remind herself why she had done so, and that was most painful of all.

People were already counting around her, though she hardly noticed. A new year was about to come upon them and all she could think of were those who would never smile again.

Four

Dumbledore, Mr. Weasley, Sirius, Cedric

Three

Fred, George, Ginny

Two

Ron, Draco

One

Harry.