Everything I Do, I Do It For You

Ch 40: The Final Battle Retold

Dumbledore walked into the infirmary later that morning. A small smile graced his lips as he saw both his Potions Master and Miss Granger asleep in their beds. He had had no doubt that Severus would bring Miss Granger back to Hogwarts. He was glad she was in one piece, although he knew she had been through an ordeal. He would get her to explain everything once she was able.

The elderly wizard was turning around to leave the infirmary when he heard Severus clear his throat. Spinning around to face him, he noticed the scowl on his face.

“Ah, I see you’re up, my boy,” Albus said with a hint of mirth in his voice.

“Who could sleep with all the racket you make?” Severus said, pushing himself up into a sitting position. “I know your shuffle, Albus,” he continued, “even blinded. Who wouldn’t?” He mumbled this more to himself, although the Headmaster heard every word.

“Well, seeing that you’re up …” Dumbledore spoke as though the last comment by the irritable Potions Master had not occurred. He conjured up a seat beside the younger man’s bed.

“We are fairly safe here,” he continued. “Tell me, what happened to your eyes?”

Severus had regained his full hearing sometime in the night after he had calmed down Miss Granger enough for her finally to get back to sleep. She was, of course, exhausted from the ordeal. He had made his way back over to his bed and climbed in, pulling the covers up under his chin. Then he had lain there, thinking about what had just transpired between Miss Granger and himself. She didn’t like to be touched; well, that was understandable, given her predicament in the past ten months. She had recoiled slightly at his touch, but then she had grabbed him and sobbed all of her woes into his chest. Miss Granger had thoroughly soaked his hospital gown, and with no wand to fix this problem, he had had to lie in bed, his chest thoroughly wet with her tears.

“Miss Granger,” Severus replied.

“What about her?” Dumbledore asked, truly perplexed at the younger man’s statement.

“She did this to me,” the Potions Master stated, lifting up one elegant hand and waving it in front of his face.

Albus sat there dumbfounded, staring at the younger man.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” Severus snapped, although his heart wasn’t really in it. “I may not have the ability to see but I do know you, Albus Dumbledore.”

With that, he folded his arms across his chest and frowned.

Albus almost laughed out loud as he looked at Severus. He reminded him of a small child, pouting over not getting his way.

Their attention was diverted as they heard a soft moan come from the next bed. Albus immediately stood and made his way over to Hermione’s bedside.

Hermione sat up and cradled her head. She had a splitting headache this morning, but besides that, she felt surprisingly good. Opening her eyes, she saw the Headmaster standing before her with a smile on his face. The habitual twinkle was in his eyes, eyes of the brightest blue behind half-moon spectacles.

“Headmaster, is that you or am I hallucinating?” she asked, almost hesitantly.

At Hermione’s question, Albus let out a little bark of laughter. “It’s great to have you back, Miss Granger,” he replied, the huge smile on his face confirming that it was indeed him.

Hermione shook her head, trying to clear her mind. She looked up once more and faltered to some extent on her next words. “But … I … thought you were dead,” she said as tears flowed silently down her face.

“No, my child,” the elderly wizard replied, his face suddenly solemn in his efforts to comfort her.

“Who else is alive?” she asked. Her hands went to the bed sheets and started fiddling with them, her gaze falling to her hands.

She was finding it more and more difficult to concentrate with the blinding headache. She screwed up her eyes tightly, a pained look on her face.

“We shall get to that later,” Albus replied. “First, how are you doing, my dear?”

“Okay, I guess,” Hermione replied, looking up into the Headmaster’s concerned face. “I have this headache though,” she said rubbing at her temple with her left hand.

“Then we shall get that fixed up first.” He smiled before turning around and making his way into the infirmary’s office.

Severus, who had been listening intently to the conversation between Miss Granger and Albus, coughed.

Hermione, realizing that she wasn’t alone, looked over to the Potions Master before quickly dropping her eyes to the floor in front of the bed.

“I’m sorry,” she half-whispered guiltily.

“Whatever for, Miss Granger?” Severus asked, curiosity taking the sarcasm out of his voice.

“For everything,” she started. “For not believing you and for …” she stumbled over the next words, “… last night.”

Severus raised an eyebrow at the last statement.

“It was nothing,” the Potions Master replied. Although less than a week ago he had been ready to strangle the ill-tempered chit, now he felt almost emotional for her.

Hermione just nodded her head and was saved from further conversation as the Headmaster returned with a Healer that she didn’t recognise.

“Where’s Madam Pomfrey?” she asked, and realized her mistake before she could retract the question.

Albus just shook his head sadly as the new Healer gave Hermione the headache potion.

The Healer didn’t seem at home here at Hogwarts’ infirmary yet, but Hermione had to figure that it would come with time. One good thing about her was that she didn’t make a fuss.

Hermione grimaced as she swallowed the potion. She had missed the wizarding world’s quick-fix solutions to just about everything during her ten-month sabbatical. Not that she remembered her time at Calan Park all that much, thanks to Robert Finn’s meddling.

Her face suddenly hardened at the memory.

Dumbledore, who was watching her, conjured up another chair in between Severus’ and Hermione’s beds. He placed a Silencing Spell that encompassed the space where the two combatants sat in their beds. Then, taking his conjured seat, he waited patiently for her to relate her story.

It took Hermione a couple of minutes to compose herself. As she played with the potion bottle in her hands, she seemed to be focussing her energies, her brow creased in the effort. The silence in the infirmary was deafening, as it seemed to stretch on forever.

Severus, who was one for peace and quiet, was almost unnerved as he waited with bated breath for Hermione to relate her tale.

Hermione was debating with herself where to begin. The internal struggle was clear on her face.

Dumbledore sat straight in his chair, his arms folded in his lap, looking at her expectantly.

Finally she began her account.

Dumbledore listened with interest. He never once interrupted Miss Granger. A lot of his fears were confirmed with her story.

Almost two hours later, and after plenty of tears, she fell silent. It had obviously been a strain on her energies.

As the saga had unfolded, Severus had felt pride in the girl, no - young woman - sitting in the bed next to his. He was in awe of her strength of will, resilience and determination. He too had listened without any comments, a difficult task for the usually scathing Potions Master.

Dumbledore wanted to explain to her about her scar, the same scar that Harry Potter had possessed. However, as he watched her, he saw her eyelids grow heavy as she fought off sleep. So he took his leave as she drifted off into nothingness.

He walked over to the Potions Master, who was now openly staring at Miss Granger with an unreadable look on his face. As he cleared his throat, Severus looked up at the elder wizard, who wore a knowing look on his face.

“What are you looking at?” Severus frowned, fiddling with his eye patches.

“Oh, nothing,” Dumbledore replied with hint of amusement in his voice. He sat down, looking at Severus expectantly.

As the Potions Master imparted all he had experienced upon entering Calan Park, Dumbledore’s eyebrows rose, but like as with Miss Granger, he never uttered a single word.

When Severus was finished, the elderly man arose from his seat, which he promptly Banished, and laid his hand on the Potions Master’s arm.

“You get some rest now. I will be back this afternoon,” he said before lifting his wand and taking down the Silencing Spell around them. Albus rapidly make his retreat from the younger man’s bedside.

As he left the infirmary, he motioned to Healer Jenson that he was finished speaking with her patients and headed off. He had a lot of thinking to do.

***

Tolmie Crobobin had Apparated back to his residence in Little Hangleton. Pushing open the door wearily, he replaced his wand up his sleeve as he stepped through the open doorway.

His home now felt empty without the presence of his dark-haired companion. He hadn’t been aware of how much he had depended on the Potion Master’s quiet company, and he mentally sighed as he poured himself a drink and took his usual chair by the now dead fireplace. Looking over in the direction of “Severus’ chair,” his mind’s eye conjured up images of the Potions Master and their cautious relationship.

He would go to Hogwarts tomorrow or the next day to see how Severus was doing, and of course Miss Granger too. But for now he was much too tired; using his empathic powers did drain him. So he closed his eyes and the next minute, he was asleep in his chair.

***

Albus Dumbledore was particularly perturbed by Miss Granger’s recollection of her time in Calan Park, and the fact that Cornelius Fudge wanted to harness her powers for his own devious means. That, and the fact that he had a Squib working inside the mental facility, had taken up most of his thoughts for the morning. He had spent it considering his options, locked away inside his office.

He too was slightly concerned at Severus’ description of Calan Park. He was now sure that Cornelius had used Calan Park as some sort of twisted halfway house for any witch or wizard that opposed him. The Minister was a very underhanded man. Dumbledore had begun to realize all of this unfortunately too late.

He also pondered on Miss Granger’s newfound powers. From the description that Severus had given him, he thought it strange. But he hadn’t lived for over one hundred and fifty years without coming across a few extraordinary things in his lifetime, so he dismissed it. He had to think about the immediate problems facing the wizarding world. He came to the conclusion that now was the time to strike, before the Minister had time to formulate a plan.

So, as promised, he returned in the early afternoon, Minerva McGonagall trailing behind him. Severus and Hermione were just finishing up their lunch. Severus’ eye patches were gone, and he seemed to be contemplating something on his plate as though it were the answer to all of his problems.

Hermione looked up and saw the Headmaster entering the infirmary, also noticing her old Head of House trailing behind the elderly wizard. Her empty lunch tray was on her lap. She hadn’t felt hungry when it had arrived; however, upon tasting it, she soon discovered she was ravenous, and had finished off the meal in record time.

Minerva, upon seeing her favourite pupil, broke down, immediately rushing over to Hermione and wrapping her arms around her.

As the aged witch embraced Hermione, the metal tray fell off her lap, hitting the floor with a loud clank, spilling the eating utensils’ and breaking the plate which had held her lunch. Hermione tensed up and immediately started to shake. Minerva thought that she was crying too. Only when the Potions Master’s hands came to her shoulders and pulled her away, did she realize her mistake.

Hermione had gone a pasty white and was shaking like a leaf. She was staring straight ahead as if she had seen a ghost.

Severus took Minerva over and placed her into Albus’ waiting arms as she intently looked on in horror at Miss Granger.

The tall, dark-haired man then glided back over to Miss Granger’s bedside.

“Miss Granger,” he said in his best classroom voice, trying to get her attention.

Hermione paid him no mind as she continued to shake.

“Miss Granger, it is all right,” Severus tried once more, but with no luck.

“Hermione,” he said almost tenderly, hoping to break her from whatever enchantment she was under.

Suddenly snapping out of her shock at her name being called, she looked up into her dreaded Potions Master’s eyes and saw the compassion held there.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, dropping her eyes once more to her bed sheets and wringing her hands together.

“It’s quite all right, Miss Granger.” Dumbledore’s soft voice spoke with just a hint of sadness.

“I just don’t like being touched,” she said, nervously. “I’m sorry I reacted so poorly.” She then looked up towards the older witch, who had become like a mother to her when her own mother had been killed. “Professor, I’m so sorry. I don’t have any control over it; it just happens.” Hermione gave her old Head of House a timid smile.

Minerva sniffled a little, wiping her eyes and nose with a handkerchief procured from Albus. ”That’s quite all right, child,” she responded, concern evident in her voice.

“Excellent,” Dumbledore said, clapping his hands together.

Severus gave the elderly wizard a scathing look, ‘He must be over his usual quota in lemon drops today,’ he thought, as he bent down and retrieved the tray and its contents from the floor, placing them on the bedside table before going back and sitting down on his bed.

Albus conjured up a comfy-looking settee for Minerva and himself and sat down in-between the rows of beds. When Albus was finished placing the silencing sphere around all the involved parties, he looked up to see Miss Granger and Severus looking at him expectantly.

“Where to begin,” Dumbledore said, thoughtfully stroking his chin. “I suppose the beginning is as good a place as any.” He placed his hands back into his lap as he looked Miss Granger in the eye. He could see her inquisitive nature once more in her face as she bit her bottom lip. He smiled faintly.

“As you well know, Tom planned his attack when he knew that Hogwarts was at its most vulnerable. With no prior warning from Severus, our spy, one of his Death Eaters broke down the wards to the school. Tom’s followers had the opportunity for an entrance onto the school grounds now through the front gates. I have my suspicions that they had someone working on the inside, but have as yet to prove that theory. Tom used his minions to lay the groundwork for his arrival.”
Dumbledore paused here for a brief second, before reining in his chain of thought and continuing.

“I had just enough time to call the Order of the Phoenix and the Aurors, although no Aurors ever arrived, and formulate a quick plan of attack. You see, Miss Granger,” he continued, looking her directly in the eyes, “we never meant for the attack to take place on the grounds of Hogwarts. It’s too open - although I know this school and its surrounding areas very well, I also know its weaknesses.” He sighed heavily and went on.

“There were twelve of us set up to take care of Mr. Potter; we knew that Mr. Weasley and yourself would never leave his side, and that Minerva and I would be among that number too. Severus just had time enough to don his robes and mask and join Tom, although the Death Eaters made it quite apparent that they had found him to be a traitor and made quick work of him. It is only by chance that he was knocked into the bushes by a particularly nasty hex and survived.”

The Potions Master looked down and frowned. This was the first time he had heard how he had survived. ’Luck played no part in it,’ he thought bitterly to himself.

“Professor Rubeus Hagrid was one of the first to fall; he fought a gallant fight and cleared a path to the lake for Harry, where Tom was lying in wait for him. Aurors Kingsley Shacklebolt and Nymphadora Tonks fell, although Mr Shacklebolt survived. Others didn’t, and included in that number are Mr. Longbottom and all of the Weasley family, except for young Ginny Weasley.” Dumbledore smiled sadly. He knew that Ginny and Hermione had been close, and he hoped the news that she had survived would bring some happiness into this otherwise bleak tale.

“Unfortunately, most of your classmates didn’t make it, with the exception of Miss Lovegood and only a handful of the younger students. Professor Lupin and Mr. Black are living, as are Professors Flitwick, Vector, Hooch and Sprout. We managed to get everyone that was injured over to St Mungo’s. Professors Moody and Trelawney were among them and Madam Pince is still in the hospital. Madam Pomfrey had set up a field hospital for the injured and that is where she met her end, trying to heal all of our wounded. She saved Professor Trelawney’s life that day. She had recruited a few of the younger students as nurses; however, no one escaped the field hospital with their lives.”

He met Hermione’s eyes and could see the tears silently flowing down her face. She made no attempt to wipe them away. It was almost like an unspoken tribute to the dead.

“Mr. Ronald Weasley fought a courageous fight, as did all of our fallen.” Dumbledore said, noticing that Miss Granger smiled at the boy’s name.

“Mr. Potter pushed his way to where Tom was standing near the lake. I’m sure you remember this part of the account, but it is important to tell the whole story from the beginning to the end so you will understand where your scar came from.”

Hermione reached up her hand and ran her fingers along her scar on her forehead, almost subconsciously.

Albus noticed this gesture, but decided against saying anything, pressing on.

“Minerva and I were sidetracked with a couple of the nastier Death Eaters, who tried to divert our attention from our objective, which was to protect the three of you at all costs. Regrettably, we let you down,” the elderly wizard said, a slight quiver in his voice and a tear in his usually twinkling eyes.

“I only managed to catch stray glimpses at your own fight against Tom, and I saw how he used Lucius Malfoy as a shield near the end. I also saw the protective charm you placed around Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley and yourself, and you must be congratulated for its ingenuity.” Dumbledore smiled fondly at Hermione.

“Minerva and I managed to Stun most of the Death Eaters, and as we made our way over to Harry and Tom, we saw Ronald fall and you falter a little in your efforts. Then it was all over. There was a blinding light that managed to knock all of us unconscious. Those of us who weren’t mortally wounded woke up a couple of hours later. We all managed to piece together what had happened, and I think that this is a rather accurate account.” Dumbledore drew in a deep breath and continued.

“Tom and Harry were not able to use their wands in battle because they are brother wands containing the same core, a phoenix feather from Fawkes. With you channelling all of your powers into Harry, he was able to destroy Tom, a feat that would have been impossible without your assistance. Tom was never one to play fair, and so he used the last of his strength to perform the Killing Curse on you. However, Harry stepped in and saved your life. You see he loved you … no, not like that,” he said as Hermione’s eyebrows shot straight up into the air. “He loved you as a sister, a family member. You and Ronald were the only real family he ever had. Thus he provided for you the protection against the curse. So your scar is the direct result of Mr. Potter’s love for you. You see, you now harbour not only your power, but also Harry’s and Tom’s.”

Hermione shot the Headmaster a disbelieving look.

“However,” he continued, “I think that the potions that you were force-fed during your unfortunate incarceration have diminished those powers somewhat.”

“But,” Hermione spoke for the first time during the Headmaster’s speech, “my scar was bleeding when I awoke. What does that mean?” she asked.

“Ah yes. You see, Miss Granger, you are a Muggle-born witch. I am not saying that that is a terrible thing,” he paused here looking at Miss Granger’s face before continuing. “You see even though Harry scar did not bleed it was a magical scar that we believe had something to do with him coming from two powerful parents. We have never known anyone else to survive the Killing Curse besides Harry, and he had the love of his mother, a witch, the woman who brought him into this world. You were loved by Harry, but it was a different kind of love. No less powerful, just altered somewhat. Do you understand what I am trying to tell you?” Dumbledore asked.

“I think so,” Hermione replied, scowling somewhat. “That Harry’s scar was a result of his mother’s love and my scar was a result of Harry’s love. Although he was no more related to me than Ron, he still loved me as a sister, and perhaps in his mind he considered me a sister. With me being a Muggle-born witch, you are not sure whether this has anything to do with it or not, however, it could,” Hermione finished, still looking into Dumbledore’s eyes.

“Exactly,” he replied, smiling. “However, it will take time to learn how the potions have affected you and how to wield this strange new power that you have acquired.”

Hermione sighed.

“Well, I think we have given you enough to think about for one evening,” Dumbledore stated as he rose from the conjured settee, pulling Minerva up with him. “We will be on our way then - you two need your rest, after all.”

He raised his wand and took down the silencing sphere that he had placed over the group. Banishing the chair, he nodded to Severus and made his way out of the infirmary. Minerva gave Hermione a tired smile and left, closely following Albus.

***

A/N: Well there you have it, the Final Battle retold as best as I could manage it. Something just didn't sit right with this chapter but for the love of me, I couldn't make it quite right. So I am apologising for it now.

As always reviews are most definitely wanted and everyone of them is received well... If I think that you make a good point then I shall email you.

Big thanks go out to my beta, LariLee, you're the best.

Disclaimer: The usual.