Hermione's Grief

Hermione stood at the edge of the grave, looking down at the casket within. It was a simple wooden casket. Nothing fancy, nothing that would indicate the significance of the one inside. Harry. They had been married for 5 years, ever since she was 23.

She should have known it was too good to last. The war had been raging, sweeping them all up in its path. While they were still at Hogwarts they had begun to see their friends fall, first Cedric, then Hagrid, and finally Ron.

Ron.

Just the thought of him brought a fresh wave of tears to her eyes. It had been at the end of their 7^th year, a week before they would finally graduate Hogwarts. They had been down at Hogsmeade in the Three Brooksticks having a celebratory butterbeer with Fred and George, who had founded their joke down the street after they had graduated nearly a year before. The door had burst open, revealing a group of Death Eaters brandishing wands. All of the customers started screaming and trying to all get out of the pub immediately, but the Death Eaters ignored them all, instead walking to the back of the room where the trio was sitting with the twins. Harry had stood up, facing the Death Eaters boldly.

The leader, she now knew that it had been Lucius Malfoy, had drawn his wand and taken aim at Harry. Harry had aimed his wand back at Malfoy, he mouth set in a grim, determined line. Hermione and Ron had watched on in horror, frozen in disbelief. Harry tried to disarm him but had been too slow; Malfoy had already said the Killing Curse. Ron, rather than watch his best friend die, had lunged at Harry, tried to bring him to the floor so he would not be hit.

Ron succeeded, partially. The curse missed Harry, instead hitting Ron in the back. He was dead before he hit the floor.

Her memory of the day ended there; she could vaguely recall being carried back to Hogwarts by someone, she thought it was a Weasley, but she wasn't sure which one.

The words of Arthur Weasley, Minister of Magic, brought her back to her senses.

"We are gathered here today, on this day, July 3, to lay to rest our best friend, husband, and hero, Harold James Potter, who bravely gave his life in the ongoing fight against darkness," Arthur said, tears running down his face.

Hermione dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief, weeping softly to herself. On her left was Ginny, her face buried her hands, the tears running through the cracks between her fingers like rainwater. On her right was Lilith, her daughter. She was 5 years old, old enough to know what was happening. She clung to her mother's robes, crying. There wasn't a dry eye in the graveyard, or the world, for that matter. The news that Harry Potter had fallen to the Dark forces had spread like wildfire around the wizarding community.

They had been working together with two others, Gabriel Ross and Cho Chang, as a team of Aurors. It had only been a week ago, though it felt like eternity. They had been raiding the house of a notorious Death Eater when they had been ambushed. The information they had been given was faulty; the team had interrupted a meeting of Death Eaters, 50 in all. Hermione was the only one who made it back to HQ alive.

People were beginning to throw dirt onto the coffin, everyone present was adding a handful. There was hundreds of people present; everyone Harry had ever helped and everyone who wished to rid the world of Lord Voldemort and his followers.

Someone was nudging Hermione. It was Arthur; it was her turn to throw in a handful.

She stepped forward to the edge of the pit and looked down, aware that everyone's eyes were on her. However, instead of bending down to pick up dirt to throw in, she reached into her pocket and pulled out her wand.

Clearing her throat, she began to speak.

"Ever since I was 11, I have been living in this world, fighting the dark forces. I can still remember sitting in the Library at Hogwarts with my two best friends, Ron Weasley and Harry Potter, trying to find out who Nicholas Flamel was. Ever since I was in school I have lost people dear to me. When Cedric Diggory was killed in my 4^th year, we were devastated. It was only the beginning. Since that day, it has been a steady stream of losses. Yes, there have been moments of happiness; yes, there have been victories; but at what cost? At the cost of innocent lives we have beaten back the Dark Forces. There were times when I didn't think I could go on, times when I just wanted to forget this war I was fighting in and live a normal, peaceful life. But I always had Harry and Ron to pull me forward, to remind me just why I was fighting, to give me happiness. They are both dead now; killed in front of me. I have seen both of them hit with the Killing Curse in front of my eyes while I stood by helpless. I cannot afford the cost of victory anymore; everything I have had to live for in this world is dead. As of this day, I resign my post as an Auror. As of this day, I resign my status as a witch."

Snap

Hermione took hold of her wand and broke it in two with a loud snap, sending a shower of red and gold sparks in the air. She threw the two halves of the wand on top of the coffin. Taking her daughter Lilith by the hand, she walked out of the graveyard towards her car, on her way to a new life.

* * * * *

11 Years Later; New York City

Hermione sat at the kitchen table looking over her reports. She had enrolled in medical school when she and Lilith had moved to America and was currently a heart surgeon at Mt. Sinai Hospital, one of the largest hospitals in New York City, and far across town from the entrance to Kramer Alley, New York's version of Diagon Alley.

"Hey Mom," Lilith burst into the kitchen, she was now 15 years old and attending high school in the city. "Guess what? I got a perfect on my science test!"

Lilith had inherited her mother's intelligence and motivation for hard work, along with her father's eyes and hair. Sometimes when Hermione was particularly depressed, looking in her daughter's eyes made her cry.

Hermione had never told her daughter about anything. Not about magic, not about Hogwarts, not about the war, and especially not about Harry or Ron. The only sign of her previous life visible to Lilith was a small picture on the wall that had been taken in her 6^th year at Hogwarts and which was charmed to be still. It was a picture of the three of them; Hermione in the middle, flanked on either side by Harry and Ron who had their arms draped over her. She had told Lilith that they were wearing black robes and pointy hats because it was Halloween.

Lilith never asked about her mother's past; she learned quickly that questions along those lines usually ended with her being grounded and her mother weeping. Hermione cried less and less as time distanced her from that period in her life. Recently, at a reception for her colleagues, when someone asked who her husband was, noticing the wedding band Hermione still wore on her finger, Hermione didn't even get a lump in her throat as she usually did when she thought of Harry.

To be honest, she was relieved that she was able to distance herself from her past somewhat, though at times she felt disloyal when she wished she could just forget everything. That wasn't entirely true; she never would want to forget Harry, with his emerald eyes and ability to make her knees weak with just a few choice words. At times she could still hear him saying 'I love you'.

"Mom, earth to Mom, can you hear me?" Lilith was waving her hands in Hermione's face.

"Oh yes, sorry sweetie, I've had a long day in surgery," Hermione said, walking over to the refrigerator. "What do you want for dinner tonight?"

"Oh I dunno, I think Donna is coming over for supper so can you make something that tastes good perhaps?"

Donna was the name of Lilith's best friend; they were inseparable, like she and Harry and Ron had been. But no, she couldn't let herself think those thoughts now; it had been 11 years for goodness sake and she a dinner to cook.

"Oh, I thought everything I cooked was good," Hermione said, sounding seemingly affronted.

"It is, just some things are gooder than others."

"Better than others, goodness Lilith where did you learn to speak?"

"Sorry, it must be that British accent of yours, getting me all confused with my grammar."

"Hmmm, take off your shoes, I'm not cleaning the floor again."

Lilith dropped a pile of mail on the kitchen table, careful not to go through it. Hermione had never let her daughter go through the mail, in fear that a letter would come for her calling her to Hogwarts or its American equivalent. Even now, though Lilith's 11^th birthday had come and gone and a letter was yet to arrive, it was still tradition that Hermione go through the mail. Hermione often wondered why a letter had never arrived for her daughter, but assumed that the Minister of Magic Arthur Weasley, or whoever his successor was, had taken her daughter's name off the list to save Hermione the pain. Either that, or Hogwarts had finally fallen to Voldemort. Hermione preferred to think her first instinct was correct.

Knock Knock

"I'll get it, it's probably Donna," Lilith ran over to the door to let in her friend.

"Hi Dr. Granger, what are you cooking? Smells good."

"Humph, did you hear that Lilith? Someone here appreciates my cooking."

"Yeah, Yeah, Mom, whatever, we'll be in my room, we need to work on a history project." Lilith and Donna ran off up the stairs.

* * * * *

An hour later, everyone sat around the dinner table eating and chatting calmly. Calmly, that is, until Donna brought up the taboo topic.

"So, Lilith, my mom is inviting both sets of grandparents over this Saturday for Memorial Day. We're going to have a 'family outing'" Donna said, rolling her eyes, "you are so lucky you only have one set, they're your mom's parents, right?"

"Umm, yeah," Lilith tried motioning to Donna to change the topic, but Donna didn't notice.

"When did your other grandparents die? Did you ever know them?"

Hermione sat up straight in her chair and responded, "Lilith's father's parents died when he was one year old, neither him, nor I, nor Lilith has ever known them. Let's not talk about that now though, happy thoughts people, happy thoughts. So, how's your history project going?"

They continued with this innocent chatter until dinner was finished, when Donna said she had to go home. Lilith showed her to the door and was about to close the door when a cat walked up the path.

"Oh, poor little kitty, I'll give you some milk, come inside."

Hermione was at the sink washing the dishes when Lilith came back inside with the cat.

"Hey look Mom, look who I found outside. Can we keep her? Please?"

Hermione looked up to look at the cat, whom Lilith was waving in front of her face. The cat was a tabby cat, with curiously square markings around its eyes.

Hermione dropped the plate she was cleaning. It shattered on the floor.

"Minerva?" Hermione asked.

The cat nodded.