Fear of Flying

Hermione stood on the brink of time, her tears coursing down her face. Why didn't I die, she thought, running outside of Hogwarts and flinging herself on the ground. She cried, practically trying to bury herself as she cried, her anguish building up inside and not relieving by her tears.

"Harry..." she cried, "Ron..."

A figure approached Hermione, as the sky opened up and rained. Heavy raindrops like tears fell everywhere reminding the world of this happy day.

"Today, the world has known what its like to be free from evil of the most horrid kind for the first time in over fifty years. And we have one person to thank for that, Harry James Potter," Dumbledore paused, his eyes shining with tears.

The Great Hall erupted into cheers, as Dumbledore softly continued they withered away.

"But he can't be with us right now," he said, his voice barely a whisper, "for Harry paid the greatest sacrifice in order to relinquish that which we have feared above all else."

Everyone in the Great Hall, young and old, turned to the Gryffindor table. They saw Hermione. But not Harry. Everything was silent, even the birds outside understood the enormity of that which had occurred. The entire world seemed consumed in the sight of the empty seat by Hermione.

Hermione had been shaking badly as Dumbledore had begun his speech, and when he pronounced him dead, she had risen furiously from her seat. "He can't be dead! H-He told me he would come back!"

Dumbledore looked at her over her half-moon spectacles, her figure rising and approaching. "Death is hardly an expected thing," he said gravely.

'Why couldn't I have gone?' Hermione wracked her brain recalling memories-- times-- she spent with Harry and Ron, laughter and good-cheer drifted over her and she wobbled, threatening to collapse on the floor of the Great Hall.

"Where's Ron?" Hermione said shakily, willing herself to be sturdy just to hear this...

"Another soul lost," he spoke to Hermione, as if they were the only persons in the Great Hall, like she was in his office again with Harry and Ron-- she ran.

Hermione didn't return to classes, she didn't leave her bed and when it was time for graduation, her speech was not planned.

"I'm not up here alone today," she began, her eyes still red from crying but she stood tall on the podium in the Great Hall that was filled with Hogwarts graduates. "I've got my two best friends beside me, and even though they can't be with me, I still hear their voices in everything I do. I know they'd want me to go on, I know that."

She looked around, "But now, we're leaving this place that has been our home for seven long years, and here we have learned things that we once never thought possible, or even imaginable. These things were not possible to us before, because we only looked at everything from one angle. But by looking at the world around us, so many more opportunities are now possible. This is how my friend, Harry, lived his life. That was Harry, from Day One, as if fate had separated him out to endure a different sort of life. It's who he was. Now it's time for us to ask ourselves these questions as we move forward in life."

She paused, and saw each Seventh Year that was graduating face upturned to the sky of the Great Hall, their eyes closed. She continued, her voice barely a whisper traveling the length of the hall, "I wish I could have gone with Harry, and Ron... but I couldn't. I was too weak yet from the attack earlier on in that month. Harry told me from my bed in the Hospital Wing," Hermione closed her eyes and her body shook, remembering the vivid face of Harry's face, determined to beat this evil once and for all, "He told me, 'I will return to you, Hermione, and everything that you've worried about for so long will not be a problem again' I never thought he'd die...well, at least not like this, I thought surely even the fates had some scrap of sympathy for the Boy Who Lived." She broke down now, her tears matching the stormy sky above in the Great Hall, "For," she began, wiping her face, "For everything that was thrown at Harry during his life, he met the challenge and refused to submit to death, until it finally swallowed him whole. Now, we're going out into the world because Harry, and people like Harry and Ron have the spirit to live and fight for what they believe in."

With that, she stepped down from the podium and walked out of the Great Hall, containing herself until she threw open the doors to the grounds and heard thunder rumbling over head.

The figure bent down next to Hermione, "It's not your fault," it whispered in it's a soft voice.

Hermione struck the ground with her fists, "It's not bloody fair!" she screamed, twisting on the ground in the mud.

"Come on, Hermione" came the voice again, "Fly away; let it all go...Let me go. You're an intelligent, beautiful witch."

Hermione paused, a deathly thrill set in her and she sat up. "Harry?" she called incredulously and she threw her head around, gazing at all sides of her. But nothing was there, except for his Firebolt.

She looked at it cautiously and mounted it, straightening her Hogwarts Graduation Robes. She kicked off and the broom rode high into the sky.

She slowly realized, as the broom made its ever-higher ascent that she wasn't controlling the broom. She gazed in front of her, noticing how the rain seem to bounce off empty space in front of her on the broom. She stammered, "Harry?"

She took her hands off the Firebolt and rubbed her eyes. The broom jerked wildly in the wind. Hermione realized what she had done a moment too late.

"Harry!" she screamed, falling, as she felt the very real brush of an arm against hers as she fell, "Harry! Save me!" Above her, she saw the Firebolt turn and begin descending in a mad rush of fury.

He was coming back for her, Harry had come back, and he was going to save her, Hermione thought, her mind and body soaked from the rain, the wind whistling in her ear. The ground was coming faster and faster, "Harry!" she screamed again her shrill voice echoing throughout the grounds.

The Firebolt came closer, but it wasn't Harry riding it. It was Lord Voldemort. He laughed; "Stupid Mudblood!" and he turned away and took off towards the Forbidden Forest.

She hit the ground, snapping her neck landing face first on the wet mud with her leg stuck out from beneath her at an odd angle.

She was found later in the afternoon by Hagrid, who had a bag of wood shards on his shoulder. He dropped them and immediately rushed her limp body to the Hospital Wing.

Madam Promfey gazed down at Hermione's limp figure, "Where did you find her?" she asked, pressing her lips together to form a white line.

"Abo' fifty paces from teh front of tha scho'" Hagrid muttered, holding his hat in his hands, "Oh, this is just 'orrible!" he wailed.

She put a hand on his shoulder and then turned to survey Hermione's injuries, "Well, the cause of death is certainly a broken spinal cord in the neck region - it appears as though Ms. Granger took quite a fall, would you mind fetching Albus and Madam Hooch before coming back Hagrid? I must write to her parents to come pick their daughter up," she said sadly, moving towards her small back office. She hated this business of telling people their children were dead, she couldn't imagine the grief. Why, the last time she had to write home on such occasion- why that was years ago! Oh, poor girl, Poppy thought distractedly.

~~~~~

"It appears as though she fell, Albus" Poppy said, removing the sheet that had been over Hermione's body.

"It would appear so, Poppy. Are there any brooms missing from the Shed or the locker rooms?" Dumbledore said sadly, his blue eyes dark with sadness.

"Nope, I checked before I came. Potter's Firebolt is missing, and I taught him to charm it so only he could unlock it from its locker...and he's..." Madam Hooch said, blowing her nose.

"Has Hermione ever flown before, Madam Hooch?" Dumbledore said a small light in his eyes.

"No Headmaster, always asked for other work instead, said she was deathly afraid of heights".

Hagrid walked in, "Professor Dumbledore, sir, I found these near the Whompin' Willow today...something ran in it, figured you might want to see it."

Dumbledore raised an old crooked eyebrow and took the bag and Hagrid sidled out of the room.

Madam Hooch opened the bag, "It's Potter's broom." she said, her hand on her mouth, as she held up a shard that clearly said "Firebolt" on it.

Albus Dumbledore pondered the most recent and most baffling death yet in his office late that night. He sat behind his desk, his ice blue eyes stormy in thought.

A girl.

A fall.

A broom.

A girl whose greatest fear was flying.

A broom that can only be unlocked by one person-- and he's dead.

A fall.

It just didn't add up, Dumbledore thought, his old twinkle back in his eye, because he knew, with a heavy heart that Harry had indeed come back for Hermione because it most certainly had been Harry's Firebolt.

Just like Hermione really did have a fear of flying.