I'll Never Tell

I'll never tell... I'll never tell...

It's amazing what a lost love does to you. The first time that you lose someone that you love, a piece of you dies with them. They say that, and it's true, it really is. You never believe it until you experience it. It's all oh, isn't that a romantic thing to say or something, and then someone leaves... and you realize that there's this hole, this hole in your heart, and you can't fill it up, because the thing that used to be there is totally, completely and irrevocably gone.

Loss makes you crazy if it happens to you often. War is loss, though, so you'd think that you'd learn to deal with it. We do learn - we learn and we deal and we store away our grief for a more convenient time. But if grief piles on grief, and day turns to night to day again, and the grief just swells up... it takes over. You snap.

I haven't snapped. I just hide myself in it. It's easier not to talk about what has happened. I draw into myself and keep the rest of the world at bay.

I'll never tell... I'll never tell...

I'd do anything to make them go away. Doctors, nurses. Family.

But not him.

I can tell that he feels guilty. After the first attacks on Hogwarts, the school was immediately divided into Us and Them. Those who chose to go with their families, those whose parents are - were - Death Eaters, they left the school. Right away you could tell. Albus made the announcement soon after the first attack.

The Great Hall fell into silence as Dumbledore stood. All eyes in the Hall turned to him as he began to speak.

"Last night's attack was truly a tragic event in history. For the first time in over a thousand years, Hogwarts has been attacked. The forces of evil have done something truly horrendous: they have attacked a sanctuary." He paused, and although his stature showed the strong Headmaster that we needed him to be, his eyes showed the tired and haunted man that he was.

"There is no bringing back the people that were lost. Students, faculty, friends, I ask you now to stand and honor the fallen." We all stood as one and raised our glasses as Dumbledore recited the names.

"To our sisters, lost in combat, Padma Patil, Caryn Martin and Amandine Sinistra, we raise our glasses." I saw Parvati tremble out of the corner of my eye. Her Gryffindor courage shone through, though, as she stood tall and raised her glass higher. I didn't know the Martin girl - she was a third year Hufflepuff, and I'd never even noticed her until she died. She threw herself in front of a friend when a Death Eater flung a curse in their general direction. Turns out that the curse was of the killing variety. Professor Sinistra had always been nice to me, and I was sorry that she had passed on.

"To our brothers, lost in warfare, Dennis Creevey, Brian Dogan and Morgan Farrell, we raise our glasses." Colin's puffy red eyes were downcast as he raised his glass. Dennis had been standing right next to Colin when he was hit - Colin probably felt more than a little survivor's guilt. The other two had been Slytherins - Brian a fourth year and Morgan a seventh year.

Dumbledore nodded and we all sat as he continued his speech. "We respect the wished of your parents and yourselves. If your families wish you to leave for any reason - " his eyes swept across the room, and it seemed that he glanced at everyone. "We will honor their wishes and let you leave. But Hogwarts will offer asylum to any student wishing to stay." With that, he sat down and the meal resumed.

At first, I had wondered about the statement. Offer asylum? Didn't monasteries do that for convicts or something? Then it occurred to me. Some of these kids had Death Eaters as parents: Draco Malfoy, for instance. If they wanted to be Them, they could leave - but on the other hand, if they wanted to defy their parents and be Us, Albus would keep them safe.

I'm sad to say that most of the students whose parents were Death Eaters chose to be one of Them. But the most surprising additions - not to mention one of the most valuable - to our side was Draco Malfoy. Evil little Draco decided that maybe being evil wasn't all it was cracked up to be. He convinced an entire four Slytherins to be Us: Caila Morten, Brendan Maclay, Darrin Smith and Moira Peters. Two third years, a second year and a sixth year. And Draco, a fifth year at the time. The grand total of students was about thirty, with all of the remaining staff after Professor Sinistra died. Forty-three people, against Voldemort and his Death Eaters.

I'll never tell... I'll never tell...

The second attack occurred about a month and a half after the first. The Death Eaters figured that since there were less of us, we'd be easier to knock out. We took them by surprise, I guess; the attack took only four hours, and the twentysome Death Eaters retreated. Well, it was around fifteen by the time they left. We took down a total of eight or nine in the battle.

It was the first time that I killed someone. The thought will stay with me forever.

Curses and hexes were flying everywhere. I rolled under the shooting light only to find a wand pointed at my throat. There was no time to think, only time to react. I brought my feet up into the Death Eater's stomach and kicked as hard as I could. He went sprawling on the floor. I aimed my wand and screamed the Disarming Charm; we had agreed that it was in our best interests not to kill unless necessary.

They say that the more emotion you put behind a charm the stronger it gets. The Death Eater went flying into the wall behind him with a sickening crack! He hit the floor and didn't get up.

I must have sat there for a good five minutes before Ginny found me. She and Ron and the twins had stayed at Hogwarts to help out. I was staring at the body, frozen. I killed him, I though over and over. I killed him, and he's dead. I thought for sure that I was Azkaban fodder.

Ginny managed to get me out of the way. Madam Pomfrey fixed me up with a Pepperup Potion, which brought me to my senses. I returned to the fight, giving as good as I got.

You never forget the first person that you kill. I can say that so nonchalantly now, but at the time, I thought that I would never get over it. To my infinite surprise (at the time, at least), the person to finally snap me out of my reverie was Draco Malfoy.

After the mass exodus of students, the remaining people - both staff and students - moved into the Ravenclaw dorms. It gave us a sense of solidarity, as well as a sense of family. We felt closer to each other than we ever had before. After a month of constant togetherness, we all knew each other intimately. Albus insisted that we all be on a first-name basis with each other - no more "professor", no more last names. First names for everyone. I can tell you that after five and a half years, calling Professor Snape "Severus" was a definite challenge. I can still tell you that Caila Morten had two older sisters whom she adored, and that Cho Chang snored, and that Justin Finch-Fletchley couldn't sleep without his stuffed Big Bird doll. Draco was no different - he became as close to me as anyone else.

It was on a rainy day that he finally got fed up with me. It was between our classes - which had been stripped down to dueling and Mediwizardry - and I was sitting on the windowsill, staring at the raindrops. Draco walked over to me and hauled me off of my seat.

"Get over it, Granger," he'd said roughly. "Believe me when I say that it was you or him, and he'd not be feeling this guilt if it had been you who died." I glanced up at him, surprised. "Do you even know who you killed?" When I shook my head, he continued. "Walter McNair. Remember him? Third year, he tried to kill that damn Hippogriff that attacked me." He paused as if to catch his breath. "I knew him, Granger, and he would laugh over your dead body as it grew cold on the ground."

My shock must have shown on my face. Not a single person - not Ron, not Harry, not Ginny - had even tried to approach the subject with me. Give it time, they said. She'll be okay. But I wasn't okay. Someone telling me what Draco told me is what I needed, not sympathetic looks and total avoidance of the subject.

I guess that's when I really stopped viewing Draco as the enemy. Even though he had repudiated everything that I had thought that he stood for in joining us in the first place, I was still skeptical. Who were we to assume that he wasn't a spy for Voldemort? The only reason that I felt safe in my bed at night was because Ron and Harry had taken to sleeping near Ginny and myself. But his tirade gave him brownie points in my book for breaking through my fog and setting me straight.

I'll never tell... I'll never tell...

It wasn't a moment too soon, either. Three days after the pep talk, another attack occurred. This time, they didn't underestimate us, and even though we strengthened the wards, they still managed to break through.

That's when I learned that the death of another leads to pain of your own.

Justin Finch-Fletchley and Hannah Abbott, both Hufflepuff students in my year, were at the forefront of the attack. They were to fall back if the onslaught became too much for them to handle.

Damn cowardly Death Eater struck while their backs were turned.

I saw it all as if in slow motion: Hannah and Justin, running towards me with fear etched on their faces. They heard the Death Eater fling the curse at them, and knew that it was too late. I saw the fear and the calm acceptance flicker over their faces in less that a second. They stopped in the hall and kissed as the curse hit them. It hit Justin first, and he fell to the floor as it passed from his lips to Hannah, who collapsed on top of him.

I went more than a little raving mad. I put the Body-Bind Curse on the attacker and Stunned him for good measure. He was still there, after the others had cleared out. I made my way to where I knew that I had left him and ripped off his mask, only to find myself staring into the face of Vincent Crabbe. Luckily for myself, he wasn't too adept at throwing off curses, so even though he had woken from the Stunning Spell, the Body-Bind was still in full effect. I tried to scream for help, but found that the tears that had threatened to spill were blocking my throat. I sent up a red flare with my wand as I choked on a sob.

Draco was the first on the scene. I hadn't told anyone about seeing Justin and Hannah; I don't even think that anyone knew that they had died. He skidded around the corner, only to find me crying over the crumpled bodies of our friends while keeping my wand trained on his own former friend. Draco wasted no time in re-Stunning Crabbe and making his way over to me. He held me until I stopped crying, many hours later.

I'll never tell... I'll never tell...

I withdrew into myself whenever someone asked me about Justin or Hannah. Thinking of them brought back the memories of Crabbe's sneer as he was carted off to Azkaban. I didn't want to hear it, so I didn't talk about it. If someone were to ask me about the two who died, I would ignore them, or start humming. I couldn't deal, so I withdrew into myself and made it go away.

Unfortunately, they weren't the last that we lost. Caila Morten, Cho Chang, Darrin Smith - many more, all friends, were lost in the fight.

Every death among our ranks pulled me a little farther away from reality. Whenever someone was killed, we would either take care to let the family in, or bury it ourselves. When Caila and Darrin died, their parents - Death Eaters, all of them - refused to come and get their children. Cindy Drusten, a third year Ravenclaw, had no parents - they were Aurors, killed during a raid on the Malfoy estate. Each death brought the rest of us closer and closer together.

I'll never tell... I'll never tell...

I knew that the day would come when we would lose someone that I truly cared about. I mean, we were like a giant family, and every time someone passed on, it killed me a little more. But my true family at Hogwarts consisted of Harry, the Weasleys, and myself. The entire Weasley family had moved to Hogwarts when Ginny and Ron had decided to stay. But the rest of them - staff and students - could go rot for all I cared, as long as my true family was okay.

I know Harry considered me the person most like him in the school. We both fought for other people, rather than ourselves; neither of us had parents. Our parents were both directly killed by Voldemort, and we were both there to see it. Difference being, his was when he was young, so he would remember nothing. My parents were killed right in front of me, so I would always remember it.

It was almost seven months after the Dividing, as we now called it. Yesterday's attack had left Hagrid temporarily disabled - Cruciatus for twenty minutes straight had taken its toll on him, and he was still recovering, with Poppy Pomfrey's help.

To say that we were not expecting another attack so soon was an understatement. It was probably what we least expected. After all, they had to have time to regroup as well, wouldn't they? Apparently they needed less time than we thought, because they came back the next day with a vengeance.

The fight progressed as usual - they were outside, we were inside, and ne'er the twain shall meet, or so we hoped. Suddenly, there was a hand around my throat, and a voice in my ear.

"Come with me nice and quiet, girly, we have some people we think you'd like to see."

I struggled against my captor at first, but stilled myself as his words sank in. The only people who I would care about. Outside of school, would be my parents. They couldn't - they wouldn't - my mind tried to rationalize. But of course they would. They were Death Eaters; they had no morals.

I couldn't see whom it was that was holding me, but the voice sounded strangely familiar. The only thing that made him any different from the other Death Eaters was a small brass snake around his arm, like a band. He brought me out of the castle, to a clearing. The last thing that I remember was a low chuckle and a swish sound. Then all went black.

I woke what must've been two hours later to find that my body was bound to a tree. I thrashed and writhed around, trying to get free. I stopped when a voice called from across the clearing.

"Hermione?" my mother called weakly. "Is that you, sweetie?"

I stopped dead. My fears were confirmed. I raised my head to look into the faces of my parents, who were bound to trees opposite me. "Mama? Papa?" My voice broke as the tears started to roll down my face. I saw the Death Eater who had brought me here, the one with the armband, behind my parents. I screamed as he raised his hand.

"No - no -" I begged him. I stopped speaking when my tears prevented me from doing so. He cackled as his mouth began to form the words.

My mother looked at me. "We love you, Hermione. You're doing a good thing, love. We're very proud of you and we -" Her voice stopped suddenly. My father's voice spoke up.

"We'll always love you, honey." His voice broke into a grunt and stopped as well. I looked up to see both of my parents staring at me, lifeless. I screamed and screamed. The Death Eater strode toward me. He put his mouth right next to my ear.

"This is what happens to little girls who interfere with the Dark Lord's plans." I felt a wand poking into my stomach and hung my head in defeat. It would be my funeral this time, buried on the Quidditch pitch between Irma Pince and Hannah Abbott. I was so close that I could feel him saying the words.

"Okay, enough of this," came a voice from behind the Death Eater. I jerked my head up to see Draco striding into the clearing; Brendan and Moira were close behind him. All three were brandishing their wands at the man who held me. He slowly backed away, towards the edge of the clearing. Brendan and Moira suddenly sprang into action, Brendan with a Disarming Charm and Moira with the Stunning Spell. The Death Eater's wand flew into Brendan's waiting hand. Moira kept her wand trained on him as he slumped to the ground.

Draco unbound the bodies of my parents and me. He held me as I cried... and cried... and cried.

We brought my parents and the Death Eater back to the castle. Draco had sent up green sparks when he found me - a signal that all was well and we'd be back soon. His face was screwed up in concentration as he tried to levitate both of my parents while I was sobbing on his shoulder. Moira and Brendan were both levitating the Death Eater.

I walked over to him as he was floating in the air and made to take his mask off.

"Don't."

I looked at Draco, startled. "Why not? I want to know who killed my parents, I need to know, Draco, I really do..." I felt the tears come back as he levitated the bodies of my parents to the ground. He sent up blue sparks - send help, not urgent - and came over to me.

"It's my father." He took me into his arms and we sank down to the ground, not crying, not talking, just him holding me until Severus, Ron and Harry arrived.

I remember very little about the next day or so. I sat in my room, glassy-eyed, and refused anyone who tried to come in. I just shut myself down. They were dead. They were dead, and I was right there, and I had done nothing to stop it. The fact that there was nothing that I could have done meant nothing to me - only the fact that they were dead and I had nobody.

I'll never tell... I'll never tell...

It's a very disconcerting feeling, to go from having two wonderful, loving parents to having no family. Well, maybe 'no family' isn't accurate - my mother had an older brother, and my dad was the youngest of four. But my immediate family, the people who loved and raised me, were gone - all because of me.

I knew that it wasn't completely true, that they probably would have died when (if?) Voldemort took over anyway, but my immediate reaction was that they had been killed to get to me. Which was true, in a way, but I still felt guilty.

I was interrupted from my grieving by a knock on my door and Draco's muffled voice.

"Hermione? You need to come out. We're -" his voice hitched. "We're burying them." His tone became softer as he realized that I wasn't moving. "Hermione, would you like me to come in?"

I stood wordlessly and opened the door. He stepped in and offered me his arm, which I took. My hair had been plaited and pulled back into a severe bun, and I had changed into all black. A glance into the mirror confirmed that my eyes were red-rimmed and haunted. He walked me to the pitch, to a cherry tree that had been planted a few weeks before this had started. Albus was standing at the head of two identical holes in the ground, over which were floating two black-draped figures.

The service was nice, I suppose, for a funeral. It was quick, as well, and within ten minutes I was pouring dirt from my hands into the holes. I was burying my parents.

The gravestones are still there. I've checked. Well, not recently, as they tend not to let you out of here until you're 'fixed', but Draco would tell me if anything had happened to them.

There are forty of those graves. Each is marked with a smooth, white stone at the head, with the person's name, birth and death dates, and the words "Lost in Battle". Even my parents' say this. Lost in battle... and indeed they were.

Draco told me that he would come to see me today. They won't let him in, though. I had a bad night last night, so they locked me in here. Some therapy this is.

I hate it when they ask me about it. It's gotten to the point that whenever I think that I'm almost ready to go on, they break me again. "I'll never tell" has become my mantra. They think they can help, all of these people who didn't live through the hell I've lived through. Self-involved egotists, the lot of them.

I'll never tell... I'll never tell...

Last night was bad. It started out okay - I was playing checkers with Sara, from the next room. She won the game, so she got to pick out our next game. Of all the games there, she had to pick chess.

It brought back memories of the most haunting kind - Ron and Harry, in the castle, playing chess to take their minds off of the horror that was mounting right outside our windows. I squeezed my eyes shut and mumbled my excuses to Sara, leaving the room and running back to my cell - room - in tears. I climbed on my bed and hugged my pillow to my chest.

It didn't take them long to come in. Dr. Harrington, and the evening nurse, Katie. I heard the doctor sigh as he turned to me.

"Miss Granger? Are you alright?" I gritted my teeth. Yes, you infernal idiot, I thought at him, mentally sneering in a way that would have made Draco proud, I'm crying because I'm bloody happy.

The doctor leaned over me. "Please, Miss Granger. We can't help you if you won't tell us -"

I couldn't let him finish his sentence. "I'll never tell," I ground out with conviction. I saw the doctor frown and begin to speak, but I already felt myself slipping away... I didn't fight it. I've learned by now that you just have to let these things take you over, as fighting them just prolongs the inevitable. I felt my eyes slide out of focus, and heard myself being chanting in a singsong voice.

I'll never tell... I'll never tell...

So they locked me in here. Bastards. Alone again, alone with my thoughts and the promise of a visit later on.

I remember when they all died. Forty headstones. Thirty-eight of our best and brightest, our teachers and peers. Thirty-eight of our original forty-three lie in the Quidditch pitch. Along with them are my parents, which brings the total to forty. Who survived? Oh what a question. Who lived might be a better way to put it.

I mean, I'm alive, but did I really survive?

I'm still here, and so is Draco. Severus drops in to visit me every once in a while. It's been about a month, so he should be by soon. Ginny comes by, too, about twice a month. Moira visits as often as she can, with Brendan. Not the Brendan that we fought with - the Brendan who she delivered, in that castle, three months after his father died.

Ginny married a Muggle. She has two kids now, a girl named Molly Ann and a boy named Arthur George. Her entire family died, in that hellish place. Eight of the thirty-eight are her family members, all in a row. She visits the graves twice a week.

Severus lives with Moira. They're not together, but they're two of the only survivors of the most hellish place on Earth, so they feel that they're the only ones who understand. So they live together, taking care of Brendan and each other.

Draco lives alone, in the house that he grew up in. Lucius Malfoy died in Azkaban, and Narcissa had passed on at the beginning of the war. I've asked him if he's ever going to marry. It seems highly unlikely. He's high-maintenance, and any girl who would be with him would have to understand what not to do when he stares at the wall, or when the silent tears begin to course down his face. Fat luck trying to find someone like that in today's world.

I'll never tell... I'll never tell...

The final battle was hell. We had been in the castle for four years. We had lost so many already, and we were down to only ten of us: Harry, Ron, Albus, Poppy and Minerva, in addition to those who I've already mentioned. We were all outside, with a one-on-one battle occurring between Harry and Voldemort while the rest of us took on the Death Eaters.

Ron screamed as he was hit with Cruciatus again and again. I finished my fight and turned my wand on the Death Eater torturing Ron. The man looked up at me, a cruel smile spreading across his face as he said the words that chilled me to the bone.

"Avada Kedavra." The green light arced towards Ron, as I wracked my brain for some way to help him. I threw a Levitation Charm at Ron and tried to get him out of the way.

I was too late.

Albus and Poppy came running at my bloodcurdling scream. Poppy came to me, tears in her eyes, and forced a Pepperup Potion down my throat. I calmed down and stood as Albus Stunned the Death Eater who had killed Ron. I went over to the man, drew back my fist and punched him as hard as I could. I continued to rain blows upon him. Albus stood back, understanding that I needed to do this.

Harry's scream carried long into the night. We turned to him, and saw a dagger sticking out of his stomach. Voldemort looked highly amused as he turned to the man standing next to him. Albus, Poppy and I ran towards Harry. I saw Minerva and Ginny coming from the other side of the field. Moira was inside with baby Brendan. Severus had stayed with her, and Draco was... well, we weren't quite sure.

Harry had already pulled the dagger out by the time we got there. Poppy looked aghast as she surveyed his injury. She placed her hands over it and muttered a few words, sealing it up. Harry looked at me, glassy-eyed. He grabbed my hand and tugged. I leaned over him, trying to hear him better.

"Mione... don't cry, okay? Help them..." I shook my head violently as I felt him leave us. I threw my head back and screamed. Poppy's voice came from behind me, urging me to come along, that it wasn't safe out here... I ignored her and picked the bloody dagger that had killed Harry. The monster in front of me had taken my two best friends in a matter of a day. I felt the hilt in my palm. It was made of leather, worn smooth by years of use. I screamed, a silent scream of rage, as I ran to Voldemort and plunged the knife down into him.

Voldemort looked shocked. This obviously had not been a part of the original plan. I pulled the knife up and out, only to sink it into him again and again. I was relieved to find that he bled, like the rest of us. His attendant, for lack of a better term, stood as if in shock as I stabbed and stabbed his Master. My thrusts slowed after a time, and I collapsed, crying. I noticed that the man next to Voldemort - his body, rather - was Petrified, not shocked. I supposed that Albus had seen what was going on and helped me in his own way.

A warm voice spoke into my ear. Draco had come from wherever he had been, and was now in the position he'd been in too many times already: holding me as I wept over the death of someone that I had loved.

Albus and Poppy came to us, supporting an injured Minerva between them. Ginny followed closely behind, levitating Ron's body. Draco levitated Harry, and the six of us made our way back inside.

Minerva died later that day, from injuries sustained in the battle. Poppy had exhausted herself trying to heal Minerva, so she was sleeping when the retribution hit.

We were digging the new graves when they came. The remaining Death Eaters, hell-bent on avenging their late Master's death. Poppy and Severus came out, flinging curses left and right. I saw Poppy fall out of the corner of my eye, and I saw Albus run over to her body. His eyes closed in silent rage as he stood over her body.

Albus' hands shot away from him, fists facing down. He was frowning, as if concentrating very hard. Suddenly, his eyes popped open. Balls of white light surrounded his fists.

"Enough!" he bellowed. All movement stopped, on both sides of the fight. I found that I couldn't move, save for following Albus with my eyes. Albus walked towards the group of us. He stopped in front of Severus, then Ginny. He came to Draco and said one thing. Draco closed his eyes and bowed his head. Then Albus walked to me.

"Hermione," he began. "I know that you have suffered much loss today, and in the days preceding this. Go on, child. Live and let go." With that he stepped back. He turned and unclenched his fists.

The effects were immediate. White light shot everywhere, filing every crack and crevice available. The light shot straight into the sky. It was probably visible in London. The Death Eaters gave a cry, as if on cue. Albus gave us one last smile, and strode towards the Death Eaters, light still pouring from his frame.

That was the last any of us saw of him. His grave is empty.

We buried Harry next to Sirius, and Ron with his family. Minerva and Poppy were buried next to Irma Pince.

I'll never tell... I'll never tell...

Draco should be here soon. He's the only reason that I don't slip entirely away. I enjoy his company; it's the only talk worth hearing, and the only conversation worth having. He understands when I lapse into silence, and I understand when he bows his head. He knows my inner demons and I know his haunted dreams.

I don't tell him that, though. I don't think that I have to. He already knows.

A knock on my door snaps me out of my meditative mood. I glance up, seeing Draco enter the room. He walks across the room, a concerned smile on his face.

"Why are you in here again?" He holds my face, peering into my eyes.

I averted my eyes. "I - it was just a bad night, Draco. Sara - she wanted to play chess..." I stop talking and glance at him. He understands. I know that he does.

Draco stands and offers me his arm. "Are you ready to go?" he asks me. I am confused.

"Go where?" His slate eyes meet my brown ones.

"Home." At my confused look, he goes on. "The doctors say that you can come home, Hermione. They don't think that they can do anything more for you, so they say that the best thing would be for you to be with someone who can help." He smiles suddenly. "They think that I can help you."

We walk towards the door. Draco turns to me. "Let's go live again, Hermione."

He unknowingly echoes Albus.

I'll never tell him that, though...