A Life Worth Living

Chapter 1 - Grim Reality

A familiar rustle of wings from overhead startled the trio from their excited conversation.

"Heads, `Mione," said Ron through a mouthful of jam and toast. Hermione jumped awkwardly out of the way as her copy of the Daily Prophet landed square in her plate, sending her breakfast flying. Both Harry and Ron burst out laughing as Harry attempted to prise her from his lap.

Hermione glared at the pair of them, before pulling out her wand with the intention of cleaning up. "Not one word," she warned, echoing the threat in her eyes. She glanced at the remains of her porridge and her frown began to wobble; one small giggle escaped her lips. That was all it took for the three of them to be doubled up in laughter.

The outburst caught the attention of Professor Severus Snape, sitting in his place at the High Table. Instinctively, his lip curled in a sneer and he made no attempt to control it. For sixth-years they acted extremely childishly at times, undoubtedly from lack of discipline.

Snape stood, and glided softly towards the Gryffindor table, coming to a halt directly behind Hermione. "Why is it, Miss Granger, that you have a wand in your hand? Surely you would know the rules about magic in halls and corridors after five years of attending this school?"

His voice was just as she remembered; silkily smooth, but ice-cold. How she had dreaded hearing it again. "It is new, Professor, and I was just showing it to Harry and Ron."

"You were not," he snapped. "Five points from Gryffindor. A wonderful start to the term."

All three Gryffindors glared at the retreating back and again broke out in angry conversation.

"Nice to see he hasn't lost his charm," said Harry, his voice dripping sarcasm. The others nodded in agreement.

"You would have thought another couple of months without us would have sweetened him a bit," Ron said, gloomily.

"It hasn't before," pointed out Hermione. "Do you remember the very first thing he said to us, in our first year? 'You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making.' Well," she paused, "That was after having a go at Harry."

He grinned. "He's always hated me!"

Hermione looked up at the High Table. Snape had returned to his place and was talking quietly with Professor Neffler, the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher from the previous year.

"Maybe," she said, "But I'm sure he has slightly more respect for you after last year."

Harry lowered his gaze and stared down at the table. Hermione mentally slapped herself for being so thoughtless. Of course he wouldn't want to talk about last year. It was still a touchy subject through the whole of Britain.

She bit her lip as painful memories flooded her thoughts. It had been about the beginning of the school year when Voldemort had killed the Dursleys. Dumbledore gave Harry the news, and to all appearances Harry took it all right. Then he ran away. Hermione had run out of tears over the two weeks he was missing. It was common knowledge that Voldemort was out to get him, and with renewed vigour. Harry had found Voldemort, goodness knows how, and killed him. Just like that.

Dumbledore had once explained it too her. Apparently, Harry had been able to release the controlled fury that had blended with his magic and it had literally torn the Dark Lord apart. Without the use of a wand. Of course, only precious few people knew what actually happened, namely herself, Ron, Dumbledore, Neffler, McGonagall, Sirius, and Ron's parents, whom Harry had been staying with. It was more commonly believed that Voldemort's Death Eaters had turned on him.

Without having realised she had drifted off, Hermione's mind was snapped back to the present by a light touch on her arm.

"Hermione?"

It was Ron, concern evident on his face. She relaxed, and smiled.

"Lost in thought," she murmured, and got up from the table. Students were already moving out of the Great Hall. "Come on, being late the first Potions of the year is definitely not a good idea."

Harry and Ron looked at each other, and then hurried to join Hermione. Arm in arm the three left the hall.

*****

And what went so wrong? thought Hermione, staring out of her window. Her private chambers had a picturesque view of the Hogwarts Grounds, now partially hidden by a fine sprinkling of early snow. It had been a long time, though, since she had found anything beautiful about it.

A bitter smile crept to her lips. Oh, she knew what went wrong. Death Eaters had killed her parents, only three weeks after the start of her sixth year at Hogwarts. After Voldemort was killed. After all the Death Eaters had supposedly been caught and taken to Azkaban. It seemed that Lucius Malfoy and his supporters had somehow slipped the net.

Hermione sighed, and left the comfort of the window seat to place her book back on the shelf. She did not feel like reading.

Draco Malfoy. She shivered with disgust at the very thought of him. She hated him, despised him more than she had thought she could another person. With the possible exception of Snape. Hermione shivered again and moved to stoke the dying fire in the hearth.

The pair of them had made her life hell for the past year. Even after his father had been arrested, Malfoy made it quite obvious that he was involved in the murder of her parents, tormenting her day after day. And Snape. How she loathed the venomous Potions master. While every other Professor had sympathetic and supportive, Snape had simply told her to get on with her life. Get on with my life! thought Hermione, furiously. How dare he! But none of them really knew...

Hermione was surprised as she felt a single tear make its way slowly down to her chin. She thought she had long hardened herself to the emotion that ever threatened to overwhelm her. But it was true; none of them knew just how much her parents meant to her. They were her life, everything she did, everything she achieved, was all for them.

Without her parents, she had nothing to live for. Harry and Ron were wonderful friends, and she loved them for it, but never in the way she knew Harry loved her. She could see it in his eyes, in his every movement. But she would not love again.

She knew what she had to do

*****

"We really need to talk to Hermione."

Surprised, Ron looked up from the game of Wizards Chess to meet Harry's gaze. "I was about to say the same thing," he said.

"She's depressed. I mean, well, who wouldn't be, but it's just getting worse. I'm worried about her." Indeed, worry was etched into Harry's face. "I can't believe she missed out on Head Girl." His own hand drifted unconsciously to his own Head badge.

Ron shook his head, "I can. She was close to bottom of every one of her classes last year. She didn't even turn up to most of them."

Harry ventured a look towards the stairs. "It was nice of McGonagall to give her her own room, but now she hardly ever comes down."

"Perhaps we should go see Dumbledore. It's getting pretty serious, and she'll fail her N.E.W.T.'s if she doesn't snap out of it soon."

"Don't forget it's her parents deaths we're talking about. How would you react if your parents were killed by Malfoy's father?"

Ron turned scarlet and leapt up, scattering the angry chess pieces. "Malfoy! Ohhh, what I wouldn´t give to see the grin wiped off the ugly face of that...jerk," he finished, noticing the looks he was getting from the other students in the Gryffindor common room.

Harry carefully picked up the fallen pieces and returned them to their box. "I think we should go see Hermione before we talk to Dumbledore. She'd be mortified if we talked to him about this. Best if we can avoid it."

"So we don't tell her! He probably already knows. He doesn't miss a thing in this school!"

"No, we see Hermione first. Besides," he added, "I have something to give her."

"Alright, do we go tonight?"

"Now. I just have to get something from the dormitory."

Ron nodded and followed Harry up the stairs.