To Save A Serpent

A/N: I strongly recommend listening to the song, “The Blower’s Daughter” by Damien Rice before reading this chapter, or possibly while reading this chapter, if you’ve never heard it. If you’ve heard it, perhaps you should put it on to set a little bit of a mood for you. With tears in my own eyes, I bring you this next chapter.


And so it is, just like you said it would be. The Great Hall was a monumental sea of black. Red eyes, tear stained handkerchiefs, black lacy veils, shrouding everyone in a haze of mourning. Ginny was seated at the front, rows upon endless rows of chairs spilled behind her, filling the hall, and Harry was beside her, more tears in his eyes than ever before. His heart was heavy, aching and it was all he could do not to throw himself to the floor sobbing, for Ginny’s sake. She trembled in his arms, refusing to look forward, the black lace of her veil clinging to her cheeks.

The music was soft but no one seemed to hear it as all were too caught up in their own tears. Minerva was being comforted by a teary eyed Poppy Pomphrey, both women sat just a row behind Harry and Ginny. Sobs and tears, dabbling hankies, sniffling ladies, the only sounds anyone could focus on, and even as the music faded no one heard Harry bump his knee against the chair as he rose and stepped forward, facing them all.

His eyes were nearly swollen shut behind his glasses, so filled with tears that the crowd was little more than a watery blur. Trembling he stood behind the lectern and cleared his throat, the magical sonrious charm placed on his voice catching the attention of every weeping set of eyes in the hall.

“Good afternoon,” he said his voice quaking, and he was hardly able to keep himself from breaking down into a full on sob. “I’m so terribly sorry to say that we’re all here today…” and his voice trailed off as he watched Ginny crumple up into a ball, burying her head in her lap. “…to pay our last respects.”

“Words could never describe what Hermione meant to me…meant to us all, she was a brilliant star, whom without this world seems so much dimmer already.” Tears were leaking freely down his face and he could no longer control the sob in his voice. “And so I’m just going— to play, I’m going to play a song that I know she liked, I’m not sure I rightly know why, but it’s a muggle song that she liked.” He choked and turned his head into his own shoulder, his back on the crowd, falling to his knees.

A moment later he’d composed himself, though everyone else was so busy weeping that no one had noticed his own momentary collapse. The music started slowly.

“And so it is, just like you said it would be…” the man’s voice sang, and Ginny practically crawled into Harry’s lap, weeping, as he returned to his chair. “Life goes easy on me, most of the time.” He wrapped his arms around her, crying into her as she cried against him, but the song continued one. “And so it is, the shorter the story…no love, no glory…no hero in her skies…”

Minerva sniffled, blowing loudly into her handkerchief, sending her glasses askew on her face, and Molly, who was seated a few rows back, could hardly contain her sobs, and she wept into Arthur’s arms, Fred and George each stroking her shoulder from the row behind her.

“I can’t take my eyes off of you. I can’t take my eyes off of you.” The singer repeated these words several times, and everyone was crying, silently or loudly, their hearts bursting forth in pain. “I can’t take my eyes…”

Ginny rose slowly from Harry’s arms and took trembling steps toward the marble casket inlaid with scarlet and gold. Her best friend looked only to be sleeping, head resting gently on the pillow. The song continued on, “And so it is, just like you said it should be…we’ll both forget the breeze, most of the time…and so it is, the colder water, the blower’s daughter, the pupil in denial…” The redhead collapsed to her knees, sobbing, hands gripping the edge of the casket.

“It’s not fair,” she sobbed, but was drowned out by the swell in the chorus.

“I can’t take my eyes off of you. I can’t take my eyes off of you.” Harry’s hands were gripping her shoulders, pulling her back, trying to embrace the sobbing girl. Never before had the Great Hall of Hogwarts witnessed such an outpouring of grief and loss. “I can’t take my eyes off of you…I can’t take my eyes off of you.”

“Why?” Ginny sobbed into Harry’s shoulder. “Why? She wasn’t supposed to go! She wasn’t supposed to die! Not like this! She survived! Not like this!” He couldn’t hold back his sobs to comfort her, and they trembled, sobbing on the floor in each other’s arms just beside her casket. Ron had risen like a zombie and sat beside them, eyes red, tears silent on his face, his back against the cold marble of Hermione’s casket.

“Did I say that I loathe you?” the music continued. “Did I say that I want to leave it all behind?”

Ron closed his eyes, unable to hold himself together. “She was right there, I was holding her hand, Harry, she was right there,” his face grew pale and he began to shake. “She’s gone, she’s gone. Hermione’s gone. She can’t be gone.” He turned his eyes to his best mate, finding no comfort there and fell to the floor. “She’s gone,” he curled around himself, nearly vomiting, his eyes wide with forever flowing tears.

“I can’t take my mind off of you…I can’t take my mind off of you…I can’t take my mind off of you…I can’t take my mind…my mind…my mind…” and the music seemed to slowly fade away, the only sound remaining were the harsh sobs of the mourners.

“So this is what its like,” Hermione whispered in her ethereal white figure to the redheaded woman beside her.

The woman nodded, and placed a cold hand on her shoulders. “He’ll be coming for us soon,” the tender voice of Lily Evans was hollow. Hermione turned her eyes to the woman, biting at her lower lip as she’d done often in life when she was nervous. “There’s no need to be nervous, Hermione,” she said.

“He loved you.”

“He loves you.” She said. “Come, he’ll be coming for us soon.”