Cherries

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Story: Cherries
Author: bubblybabs
Email: bubbalilly@gmail.com
Beta: Periculum
Story Consultants: WesleyY7, Sonia
Total Word Count: 13,890
Chapter 38 Edit Date: 10/22/2009
At the time of chapter upload
Hit count: 27,311
Review count: 188 (sniffles)
Average/total vote: +++++ / 228
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Chapter 38: Blossom Burial

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The first half of this chapter was actually Sonia's idea as a transition to the burial.... I just took the idea and ran away with it. A big thanks to WesleyY7 for the encouragement and Periculum for fixing things in the story and giving me additional food for thought...

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elphaba – Thanks for the review! I'm glad you're still around! Now, where is roxie, I wonder? And yes, it's a tough call... I'm afraid Remus isn't being completely noble, but in his situation, how could he be?
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hotgoose123 – Thank you for your review! Glad to see you are reading the story! You'll find out the answer to your question in two more chapters...
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WesleyY7 – You do keep my spirits up with your questions and observations! You've helped the story a great deal by questioning certain things, thereby forcing me to rewrite or even rethink a topic...

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Story date: May 15, 1996 (4:10pm)

“Minerva.”

Minerva looked up from her desk when she heard Albus' voice. She watched his tall form walk toward her, his pale blue gown swishing around his feet. She lowered her quill, its tip touching the parchment briefly, causing a giant dot of ink to spread out from its tip. With an exasperated swish of her hand, the dot disappeared, leaving the writing beneath intact.

“Yes, Albus?”

He stopped walking when he neared her desk, his eyes scanning the paperwork upon it.

“I came by to let you know that I had the chance to speak with Miss Granger not long ago.”

Minerva quickly placed her quill tip within the inkwell, her grading forgotten.

“And? How is she? How is she handling the situation now that she is free?”

“She is as I feared.” A frown upon his face, Albus nodded his head sadly. “She remains emotionally stunted over her daughter's death. Not really dealing with it. Of course, she still has difficulty dealing with what happened to her in the hands of Sirius.”

She threw her shoulders back and took in a deep breath as she shook a finger at him. “Oh, that man! I can't believe he would do that to her! Sirius of all people! I never would have believed it if you hadn't told me. When I get...”

Albus held his hands up, palms facing her. “Minerva. Please, I told you, he is as much a victim as she is. It is to Kreacher you should direct your anger.”

“Yes, yes, Albus. I know.” Her hand came down as she stood and she jabbed her finger into her desk. “But it still angers me to know he did such unspeakable things to her. And allowed other horrors...”

He nodded in silent agreement with her though his words did not have the same opinion. “As I said, he is a victim. As hard as it is to believe, we must remember that and act accordingly.”

Minerva huffed before becoming silent, her lips pursed tightly. She looked ready to ask a question a few times - her mouth opening as she took in a breath before closing it again, her lips beginning to twitch.

“You have something else to ask, my dear?”

“Of course I do.” Closing her eyes, she took in a deep breath. “How is she handling what occurred between her and Bill Weasley?”

Albus looked up at the ceiling as he took in a deep breath through his nose, lowering his face so he could look intently at Minerva as he exhaled. “She is extremely uncomfortable with what happened. I suppose I would worry if she wasn't. She was near tears when I told her I would be bringing Bill Weasley to see her tomorrow.”

“Oh dear.” Minerva played with the bun on the back of her head, seeming to push the pins in that helped hold it together. “Perhaps I should accompany the two of you when you go to break the curse, Albus.”

Slowly shaking his head back and forth, Albus rejected her idea. “No, I believe that all that will do is complicate things. Remus and I will be present. Remus' presence will help her, I am sure.”

“If you say so, Albus. However, I was just thinking if she would be better off having a woman around. It might make her feel more comfortable. Don't you think?”

“Perhaps, if she didn't know that I am aware of the situation. However, while she is embarrassed over what happened, she is still able to deal with my having knowledge of what occurred. I think it would add to her humiliation if I were to bring you with me.”

“I don't know, I...”

Albus cleared his throat. “I am sorry, but my mind is made up on the matter, Minerva.” He watched as she fought an internal battle, wanting to argue her point more, before relaxing slightly as she acquiesced to his decision. “The reason I came was to let you know that Miss Granger asked to have her daughter buried this evening. I would ask Hagrid to prepare the grave, but I'm not sure she is prepared to deal with him just yet. He will insist upon joining us tonight if he knew we were burying an infant.”

Snorting slightly, Minerva nodded. “Understandable. Hagrid is a sweat person, but he can be a little overbearing.”

“Precisely. So, I thought that, perhaps, you would like to accompany me to prepare the grave?”

“I'd be honored, Albus.” She grabbed her wand and pointed it towards her feet, her heeled shoes changing into boots better suited to walking on the rough ground. “I take it that I'm invited to the ceremony?”

“I was going to request your presence, yes. Both you and Poppy. I believe the two of you will be able to help the Grangers.”

She walked around her desk. “What about Miss Granger?”

Albus stepped back and she neared, turning slightly towards the door. “I believe Remus will do a satisfactory job.”

Minerva sniffed. “I'm sure. I just can't believe you're allowing Remus and Miss Gr...”

He stopped and turned to scrutinize her closely. “We've discussed this, Minerva. They were forced together and I believe it will be harmful for them to be separated. You recall what I told you about the potion and the elfin teaching?”

Minerva gave a long suffering sigh as she rolled her eyes. “Yes, Albus, yes. It's just all so mind-boggling.”

“Of that, I agree. However, we must make allowances in this case. Remus needs Miss Granger as much as she needs him.”

“Forgive me for doubting you, Albus. However, I keep thinking about what you told me about Sirius.” She grabbed his arm and shook it slightly. “Isn't his welfare in jeopardy by having his contact with Miss Granger withheld?”

Albus sighed. “I believe it is, yes. However, I must look at this in terms of who is more important to the cause. You know that. It is regrettable, but Remus is far more important than Sirius. I am allowing Remus contact with Miss Granger so he does not disintegrate like Sirius has. Remus' mind must remain intact.”

“I don't see what harm it would be to allow him to see her. Why can't you take her for a short visit to Grimmauld Place? I'd be more than happy to accompany you and keep guard over her. You know I'd never let any harm befall her.”

“Why, Minerva, weren't you, but a moment ago, berating him for mistreating her?

“Yes, Albus, I was.” She spoke through thinned lips, her voice sharp. “I admit I'm confused. I'm angry with Sirius for kidnapping Miss Granger, and yet I feel sorry for him, knowing he's falling apart due to this teaching by Kreacher and the potion's effects.” She threw her arms up in the air. “I honestly don't know how to feel.”

His brows lifting as he nodded, Albus pulled on his beard, his fingers raking through the course hair thoughtfully.

“As I said, Albus, I could come with you and keep watch over her. I'd make sure Sirius didn't harm her.”

“I am aware of that, Minerva.” Thinking, he took in a deep breath and let it out as he scanned the room. “I am considering it. I admit, it's quite difficult to watch Sirius falling apart. He's a likeable man, very intelligent, and I know he would do anything to help the cause if he could. I have wondered if taking her to him for short visits would help him.”

Playing with the feather on her quill, Minerva voiced a worry she just thought of. “Or, will taking her away after each visit make him worse?”

Albus nodded gravely. “Precisely. I am glad to see you understand my dilemma.”

They stood staring at each other for nearly a minute, the distant sounds of the school filtering into the room, before Minerva spoke up. “Well, Albus, taking her for one visit with Sirius will give you the answer. Maybe each visit will fill him with expectation for the next.”

“You may be correct. We can but hope for that.”

Minerva played with a button on her robe before looking up. “I suppose the whole issue would be hard on Remus, though.”

“He will be problem, of that I am sure.”

“Do you think he loves her? Truly loves her?”

“I do, in a way.” Albus clasped his hands together as he leaned back against the desk. “He had feelings for her before this began, but he was mature enough to shelve them due to her age. I don't think he loved her then, it was more of a sexual yearning for her. Her intelligence was appealing to him as well. But, as they have been forced together, I believe he feels he loves her in order to help him deal with the situation.”

“I see.” Her reply was sharp.

Albus smiled. “Minerva, why do you bristle so at the thought of an older man desiring her? She is young, yes, but she is, after all, a woman. He is a man. It's natural.”

“But, still...”

Albus glanced around the room as he spoke. “It is identical for Sirius. He desired her. The difference between the two men,” Albus turned slightly, look directly at her over his half-moon glasses, “is that he acted upon that desire. I believe his time in Azkaban stunted his emotional growth. He was less able to deny himself his wants. After all, you have to admit, he has missed out on so much in life.”

“I agree with you, Albus. But he still abused her.”

“I don't think he would have if Kreacher had not interfered. I don't know if he actually loved her, I get the feeling it was more an infatuation. But he desired her. From what I could see in his memory, he had no designs to abuse her in the beginning. He was actually quite gentle and caring. But then he began to listen to Kreacher's teaching, well you know what happened then.”

She shook her head as she held out a hand, palm up. “But, didn't you tell me that Kreacher gave her the potion to keep others from abusing her? I don't understand.”

“Kreacher likes a certain amount of abuse. And he could control Sirius when it came to the amount of abuse she received. He couldn't control Bellatrix or the other Death Eaters, and he began to truly fear she would be harmed beyond what she could handle. He was being selfish with his worries, but that was a stroke of luck for her. So he gave her a potion that would change the behavior of the Death Eaters, making it so they would be less inclined to cause her harm.”

“You said it only worked on those of the opposite sex. That means that It wouldn't work on Bellatrix, correct?”

Albus shook his head as he huffed. “No. Unfortunately the potion had no affect on Bellatrix. Kreacher had to rely on the men around her to keep her in check. Luckily, from what I could see in Kreacher's mind, Bellatrix liked to share Miss Granger, so she was always around a man when she had possession of the girl.”

Minerva shuddered. “My God, Albus. The poor girl! How has she managed to cope with all that has happened to her? Some of what you told me, the things done to her at the hands of the Death Eaters...”

He pulled at a tassel on his robe as he answered quietly. “Yes, her torments were immense.”

Minerva stepped back, her fists coming up and shaking at Albus. “Revolting. Those men are disgusting! How could they enjoy themselves knowing she was in tremendous pain and so frightened!” She brought her hands to her temples. “I don't understand it, I just don't.”

“Men – people – Minerva, will do things when in a group that they normally would never do alone. It is the classic case of conformity with a healthy dose of one-upmanship. One follows along with the others, wanting to be 'one of the guys' and not be singled out. Then, when one does something, the other has to go one better. You see that all the time in class.”

She stepped forward, her fists at her side. “That can't explain everything that was done to her, Albus! They were shameful and cruel, absolutely despicable!”

Albus nodded. “Yes, I know. I'm sure some of the men merely followed along, doing what they felt they had to do. It's the leaders, the one's who truly enjoyed what they were doing, that are quite worrisome. The others followed their lead and things escalated.”

“To think, some of those men were students we taught! I remember the first day they stepped foot in this castle! How could such innocent children become such... such... well, well, well... atrocious adults? How?”

“Minerva, there are many factors involved. Home life, their individual needs, what Voldemort,” Minerva sucked in a hiss at the word, “could give them. Unfortunately, they chose the Dark side in the war.”

“But still, Albus. I don't understand.” She hugged herself, rubbing her arms with shaking hands. “I would never do things like that to another human being! No matter how much I despised them.”

“Oh, don't be so sure, Minerva. You never know what you'll do in order to survive.” Albus pulled away from the desk and stood at full height. “Look at some of the things Severus must see, say, and do.” He began to pace, “I'm sure not all of it is abhorrent to him. After all, he did join Voldemort,” he heard another intake of air as he continued to pace, “freely so some of their activities are what he used to enjoy. However, I do know that some of what they do is bothersome to him. But he must act and do what he needs to do in order to keep suspicion off of himself – he must proceed as if he enjoys everything so they think he's one of them.”

“Well, when you put it that way, Albus...” She paused, frowning. “Are you telling me that some of those men aren't the beasts they seem to be?”

“Do you recall the Holocaust that occurred during the Muggle World War 2, Minerva?”

Confused, she nodded. “The Holocaust? Yes, I remember that very well. London was bombed during that war, Albus. Of course, I remember.”

“Do you also remember some of the atrocities that occurred? The children being removed from a hospital and thrown into trucks, only to be shot and killed? The people being forced into rail cars and then forced to stand in lines while they awaited their fates as men decided if they should live for various reasons or die in the gas chambers?”

She crossed her arms, not sure where his questions were leading. “Yes, yes, I remember hearing about those stories. Those poor people. But why do you bring that up? We're talking about Miss Granger being abuse by Death Eaters.”

He rubbed his lower lip thoughtfully. “Do you think, Minerva, that every soldier who held a gun to those people truly wanted to do those things?” Minerva stared at him as she pondered what he was saying. “I'm sure that many had nightmares each night after observing some of the atrocities they witnessed, and I wonder how many committed suicide because they couldn't handle what they saw? What they were forced to do?”

She lowered her arms slowly as she shook her head. “I, uh, I don't know, Albus. I never thought about it from that angle.”

Nodding, Albus began to pace again, his hands clasped behind him. “Not many people do. I'm sure that many of those men followed along because if they didn't, they themselves would become victims. After all, when a person seems to have become a traitor, they are not treated well. If they are allowed to live, that is.” He stopped and pointed at Minerva. “And, how many of those men worried about their families? I'm sure they feared their families would be mistreated as well. That was certainly incentive to follow the orders of their superiors no matter how abhorrent the task was.”

“I see what you mean, Albus. I understand. Even so, those men DID terrible things to her, and they should be punished.”

“What if Severus were forced to do things to her, Minerva? As a Death Eater, that may have come to pass.”

The color drained from Minerva's face as her mouth dropped open. It took her several moments to compose herself. “Are, are, are you saying that Severus...”

Albus held up a hand. “No, no, Minerva, no. Severus never had to deal with her as a Death Eater. He never had to misuse her in any way. I'm just saying, what if that had happened? Would you be willing to have Severus punished because he had to do unsavory things to Miss Granger in order to keep from blowing his cover?”

“Why must you complicate my feelings about all this, Albus?” She threw her hands up in the air. “Of course I wouldn't want Severus punished! He would have had to do what he needed to do in order to make sure the others think he was a true Death Eater deep down. However, the other men aren't spies for the Order, now are they, Albus?”

“No, no, they aren't. But, I think many have their reasons for following along with the abuse. Oh, I'm sure they may believe in blood purity and all the other propaganda spewed out by Voldemort and his more faithful followers. But I think many of the men are more of the family men sort who only want to do what they must do to give the impression they are devout followers so they can save their own necks. Then they leave and go home to their families. They don't plan things, they just do what they must do in order to satisfy their Death Eater status. That is what I believe. I don't think all of the men are absolute monsters.”

Her shoulders drooped as she sighed. “All right, Albus. You've made your point. I just hope I'm never put into that position in order to stay alive. I wish to keep my morals intact.”

“Yes, as we all do.”

“Do you think the potion Miss Granger was given may have made any of the men have feelings for her? Like Sirius and Remus?”

Albus' eyes widened as he took a step back. “I don't know. I truly never gave it much thought.”

“It would be strange to find out she had dozens of Death Eaters thinking they are in love with her, all going crazy because they want her but cannot have her.”

Hands clasped behind his back, Albus began to pace again. “Yes, it would. Very strange indeed.”

She watched him pace for a moment. “Do you think they'll go crazy like Sirius has?”

“I don't know.” He stopped pacing, his back to her. “You bring up a very good point, Minerva. One I hadn't thought of before. I'll have to think upon it for a while. But, I guess only time will tell.”

Hands open with palms up, she stepped towards him. “My Gods, Albus! She could have all those men wanting to kidnap her for themselves! How will we protect her from all those men?”

“I don't know. I'm hoping that Sirius' deterioration is due to a combination of the potion and the elfin teaching. I don't want to think of the possibility of other men coming for her.”

Minerva began to pace while wringing her hands together. “I think we should prepare ourselves for that possibility, Albus. She will be in great danger if that is the case.”

Albus turned to watch her, knowing she rarely paced unless in great distress. “I still hold great hope that Severus will find an antidote to the potion Miss Granger was given. That would solve everything.”

“It would, yes.” She stopped pacing for a moment, giving him an exasperated look before continuing to pace. “But you won't be able to give the potion to all the men who were exposed to the potions effects.”

“No, you are right about that. But the four men who are most important to the cause will be cured. That is my short term goal for the antidote at this time.”

She stopped pacing and turned to face him. “Four men?”

Albus sighed. “Sirius, Remus, Severus, and Bill.”

Shocked, she stepped back, a hand coming up to her chest. “Severus?”

“I won't go into detail, Minerva, but he was exposed to her.”

Angry, eyes narrowed, she pointed an accusing finger at him. “I thought you told me everything, Albus. What else are you hiding?”

“That is all, Minerva.” Head down, he began to pace again, his robes swirling about as he turned. “I didn't want you to know about Severus because he is your peer and she is his student.”

She brought her hands up and began rubbing her temples. “Albus! He'll never be able to teach her this summer if an antidote isn't found!”

“I will monitor him closely. I firmly believe he is strong enough to resist the potions effects.”

“Albus, please.” Minerva sounded scandalized, her hands forming into fists again as she thrust them down. “Please, Severus isn't a rock! He has feelings! The potion will affect him just as it did the others!”

“We shall see. So far, he denies any such feelings for Miss Granger.”

“All right, Albus. If you say so.” She sounded as if she didn't believe him. “But you can be sure that I'll be watching him like a hawk whenever he is around her.”

He smiled tiredly. “Of course, Minerva. I wouldn't expect anything less from you.”

“Albus, if an antidote to this potion hasn't been found in all these years, I don't see how Severus could possibly find one.”

“I know, I know.” Albus ground the words out. “I realize that I'm being rather optimistic.”

“You are, as usual.” She walked up to him and patted his arm. “But, that's one of the things that makes you the great man you are, Albus. You remain optimistic when the rest of us fall into despair.”

Albus nodded as he watched her turn while thrusting her hand into the air. Her cloak floated through the air into her waiting hand.

“Are you ready then? I only have a short time before I must be back to my office. Dolores is in class for the next few hours and Hagrid is going to keep Argus busy for a while.”

An amused smile graced her lips. “Hagrid? He is? Doing what, may I ask?”

Albus smiled as well. “Oh, it seems that some of Hagrid's charges got loose in the halls not long ago, and Argus is busy with clean-up duty.” Albus winked. “Hagrid, of course, feels just terrible about the mess and is helping.”

Minerva snorted. “And, how do you plan to keep Argus and Dolores busy tonight, during the funeral?”

“Oh, I do believe Dolores will receive an urgent letter from the Ministry that will require her presence elsewhere. Of course, she will find that the place she needs to go is rather difficult to get to since it has anti-apparition wards surrounding it. She will discover that she will have to walk quite a distance before she can get to where she will be requested to go. However, once there, she will discover she is alone. I believe she will wait, for a while at any rate, hoping Cornelius will show up. Once she returns to Hogwarts, the funeral will be long since finished with.”

“I see. And Argus? How will you keep him and Mrs. Norris from discovering our activities tonight?”

Albus looked up at the ceiling. “Oh, I believe I shall use Hagrid again for that task.”

“I see.”

He shrugged as he answered, his voice quietly jubilant. “Some of his creatures can be quite clever when getting out of their cages and seem to have an affinity for the trophy room.” He looked at Minerva. “You know how much the nifflers adore shiny objects. I'm afraid the trophy's were too much of a temptation for them.” He stroked his beard. “Between the two of them, I believe they will be able to pick up all of the trophy's that have been scattered about and get the glass swept up so I may repair the trophy cases later.” He looked at Minerva and they smiled at each other. “Plus, they will need to round up the screwts and get them safely back into their cages. That should take a while.”

“The nifflers and the screwts? My, I believe you really must talk to Hagrid about fortifying their cages.” She looked at him, laughter in her eyes. “Don't you?”

He nodded. “Of course, Minerva. Of course.”

“And the students?”

“While the screwts are on the loose, I think it best that the students, for their own safety, be confined to their common rooms. Don't you think?”

“Yes, Albus, I do believe you're right. We must put the safety of the students before all else.” She finished buttoning her cloak. “Well, since you seem to have everything taken care of, Albus,” she leaned forward, “as usual, I believe we should take care of business, don't you?”

“Of course, Minerva, of course.”

“After you, Albus.”

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Story time: 8pm

“Minerva! So good to see you! Albus said you'd be dropping by.” Remus swung the door open and backed up, allowing Minerva entrance.

“Remus, it's good to see you looking so well.” She stepped past him, her eyes scanning the room as she entered. They stopped when she saw Hermione. “Miss Granger! There you are, child!”

“Professor McGonagall, it's, um, it's good to see you.”

“Come here!” Arms outstretched, Minerva walked briskly towards Hermione, reaching out and swooping her into her arms, giving her a hug. “I'm so terribly pleased to see you and know you are all right! Bless me, but you are a sight for sore eyes!”

“I, uh...” Hermione didn't know what to make of Professor McGonagall's behavior. She was used to the Deputy Headmistress being so strict and formal.

“Oh, I know I'm confusing you, my dear. But I've been anxious to see you ever since I found out about your rescue. You have no idea how distressed I was when you disappeared.” She played with Hermione's curls, pulling some out of her face after it had fallen away from her cloak and hung frizzly in the air.

“Um, thank you, Professor. I'm, um, I'm glad to be back.”

“I'm sure you are.” Minerva beamed at Hermione as she held her at arms length. “You look wonderful, absolutely wonderful.” Her eyes dropped to the infant in the girl's arms. “This is little Persimmonie, I take? May I see her?”

“Oh, I, yes, of course, um...” Hermione pulled the blanket off of the baby, her hand going over Persimmonie's red hair protectively. She had no idea how Professor McGonagall would respond when she saw the color of the infant's hair. “Here she is.”

“My dear, she is beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.”

“Thank you, Professor.” Hermione hugged Persimmonie closer. She looked into Minerva's eyes, wondering why the professor wasn't asking her who her daughter's father was. 'Professor Dumbledore must have told her. That's the only way she would know about me in the first place, wouldn't it?' She broke eye contact and blushed. 'That means she must know everything. Gods, how embarrassing!'

“There, there, Miss Granger. No need to be self-conscious. We're all adults here, we understand that you couldn't help what happened.” Clasping her hands together, she turned to look at Hermione's parents. “I'm terribly sorry, how rude of me! I was just so please to see Miss Granger that I completely forgot to welcome you.” She shook their hands. “It's good to see you again, though I wish it were under better circumstances.”

“It's nice to see you again, as well, Professor McGonagall.” Jane shook hands with Minerva and smiled nervously. “I rather thought we would have seen you before this.”

“Yes, well.” Minerva played with her hair, pushing at the bun with her fingers. “Albus, Professor Dumbledore, didn't tell me until this morning and I've been too busy to come before now. He had his reasons for waiting to tell me about all that has happened to Miss Granger and your whereabouts. I can assure you, I would have been at her side long before this, had I known.”

“Yes, Dumbledore does know how to keep secrets, doesn't he?” Robert put a hand on his wife's shoulder. “We're lucky to have him helping us.”

“Oh, to be sure, to be sure.” Minerva smiled, her eyes straying to the infant in Hermione's arms as she reached out to run her fingers through the child's hair. “I love her hair color. She was aptly named.”

Hermione rubbed her nose through Persimmonie's hair while twisting herself back and forth slightly, her large eyes intently watching Minerva's face.

Seeing her unease, Remus stepped around Minerva and stood behind Hermione, his hands on her shoulders. Minerva glanced at his hands before looking up at him sharply. They stared at each other for a few moments before she looked back down at the infant, her lips pursed.

“Remus, I understand you and Miss Granger have become rather close.”

Nodding, Remus replied softly. “Yes, Minerva, we have.”

She looked up at him again. “Albus has told me everything, Remus.” She sighed. “Perhaps we can discuss a few things later? So I may understand your situation a little more clearly?”

“Of course.”

Hermione looked up and back at Remus, then looked at Professor McGonagall. Both were tense, and she could tell the Professor didn't approve of Remus' relationship with her. She sighed while rubbing her cheek on Persimmonie's hair. The baby had begun to make little “eh, eh, eh” sounds while mouthing at her chest, attempting to find a nipple, indicating her hunger.

Embarrassed, she whispered her child's needs. “Um, I'm going to need to feed Persimmonie soon.”

“Oh, my, well...” Minerva looked around the room. “Where do you usually feed her?” She looked at the Grangers, eyeing Robert in particular. “Do you have an area of privacy?”

“I usually go over there.” Hermione nodded towards the far corner of the room where the settee was.

“By all means, my dear, I'll wait. Then we can talk a little more about your return and how you are feeling about things. And you can tell me about your little Adara before we go to the graveyard.”

“Oh,” Hermione glanced at Remus, “I don't know. I mean, it's hard to talk about her. Right now. I, uh, I mean, well...”

Minerva put a hand on Hermione's forearm and gave it a squeeze. “It's all right. Someday you'll be able to talk about her, and then we can have a conversation about her.”

“Thank you, Professor McGonagall.”

Persimmonie's cries were becoming louder and more persistent, her head bobbing against her mothers chest as she left a trail of spittle. Hermione nodded, then turned to walk over to the settee.

Minerva watched her sadly, having sensed the girls despair. She turned towards the Grangers. “So, tell me, are you comfortable here? I understand Professor Dumbledore had to make the room for you at the last minute. I was worried it would be too small, but it seems pleasant enough.”

“Oh, it was very small when we first came, wasn't it Robert?” Jane glanced at Robert. “But, Professor Dumbledore has begun enlarging it to increase Hermione's comfort with the larger rooms at Hogwarts. At least, that's what Hermione told us. I think it's quite comfortable here, except that we must be very careful when going to the bathroom because it's out in the open. I'm scared to death we'll be caught while using the loo.”

Robert snorted. “Wouldn't that just be our luck?”

Minerva brought a hand up to cover her mouth, hiding a smile.

Remus watched as Minerva spoke with the Grangers for a few minutes before backing up and walking towards Hermione. As he neared, he could hear Persimmonie squeaking as she struggled to drink the plentiful milk as it let down. He smiled as he heard his girl talking to her baby while playing with her hair.

“Hey, sweetie.”

She turned to look up at him, a small smile forming on her lips. He loved those lips, their shape, their pale pink color, knowing what they could do to him. He shook his head at the inappropriate thought and leaned down, chastely kissing those lips before sitting down beside her. He leaned forward and traced a finger along her breast before sliding it down onto Persimmonie's nose. The child looked at him as his fingers lightly rubbed her cheek, her hand coming up to tightly grab a finger.

Hermione leaned her head against him and sighed. “I don't know why, but for some reason, I'm afraid, Remus.”

He brought his free hand up to rub the small of her back. “What are you afraid of, hon?”

“I don't know. I really don't. Do you think I'm doing the right thing? Do you think its okay to have Adara buried here?”

With his cheek against the top of her head, he nodded. “Yes, I do. She needs to be buried, sweetie. You can't get away from that fact. And what better place than here? You love this school, and you'll be able to visit whenever you want. She'll be protected here.”

“I just feel like I'm abandoning her. Why do I feel like that? I can't help it. I feel like I should keep her with me and not abandon her. She's going to be stuck in the ground. The cold hard ground.”

Remus reached up and wiped the tear away that slowly trickled down her cheek. “Sweetie, remember, we've talked about this before. It's her body, and her body won't feel the cold. Her spirit is safe. It's okay to bury her.”

“I know. I just wish I didn't feel like I was abandoning her.”

Kissing the top of her head, he brought his arm up and curled it around her shoulder. “It'll be hard, but you have to remember that this is what we do with the dead.” Hermione flinched at the word. “She's dead, hon, and she has to be buried. It's a ceremony that has been performed for millions of years. Don't let your imagination run away with you, baby. The same will be done with your body when you die, you know that.”

“I know, I know.” She watched as Remus' thumb rubbed Persimmonie's tiny fingers. “Do you, um, do you think Sirius should be here, too? Is it wrong for him to not be here?”

Remus stopped rubbing the baby's fingers for a split second before resuming. “He can't handle being near you right now, hon. Albus said his only wish was to have her buried here, at Hogwarts, so he could visit where her body is buried. Because of that, I think you made the right choice in having her buried here.”

“He did? He wanted her buried here?”

Remus nodded. “Yes. He knows there's a cemetery here. He loved Hogwarts as much as you do. He'll be happy his daughter is here.”

“I'm glad. That makes me feel better.”

Remus bit his lip at her words. He hated that she worried about Sirius. As far as he was concerned, the man could stay away from her forever.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Story time: 9:20pm

“If you don't mind, Headmaster, I should like to carry my granddaughter.”

Albus turned to look at Robert, then nodded and stepped back, allowing the man to gingerly take possession of his granddaughter as she floated in the air before him. Albus lowered his wand as the distraught man hugged the bundle to his chest, his wife reaching out to stroke the dark straight hair of the infant she hadn't known in life.

Jane wished with all her heart that she could have at least held the child, just once, while she was alive. The Grangers had Hermione late in life, though not by choice, and they had coveted their time with her as she matured. Finding out she was a witch, and that she would have to spend so much time away from them at school, had been difficult to bear. But they wanted only the best for their daughter, and had sadly relented, allowing her to become a student of Hogwarts.

They couldn't believe how lucky they were to find they had twin granddaughters, their glee masked by their shameful desire to run away from the whole frightening situation. It had, after all, been quite a shock to discover the horrors their daughter had been through, that they were in danger themselves, and they were now grandparents – all within a time span of minutes. Their preoccupation over getting back to their practice had been an easy diversion they could latch on to, something they understood well and felt comfortable with. Hearing about Death Eaters, torture, rape, and murder had been overwhelming, and they had quite simply done their best – initially – to run away and not deal with the matter at hand. Once they had time to talk to each other about everything and deal with the situation, they became filled with remorse and shame over their initial desire to – she cringed when she thought of it, but there was no easy way to put it – their desire to abandon their daughter and leave her behind. They had tried to take the easy way out like a couple of immature adolescents instead of facing things head on. This was their daughter, after all. How could they have been so heartless? She was so grateful that Hermione didn't know about their shameful attempt to desert her.

Harshly wiping away a few bitter tears, Jane followed her husband as he, in turn, followed Albus through the castle and into the misty night air.

“Come on, hon,” Remus whispered into Hermione's ear. She worried him as she stared before her listlessly with an uncharacteristically emotionless facial expression, eyes dull and unfocused, her mouth slack. Her footfalls were heavy, as if it took a great deal of energy to fight gravity and lift each foot. She clung to her daughter, her hands fidgeting, never keeping still. He noticed that the swaddled little red-head was busy mouthing her mother's shirt instead of sleeping like she would normally be, and he sincerely hoped the infant would remain quiet until they were safely outside.

His arms around his girl, he guided her through the doorway and along the many dark halls of the massive institution, glad Albus had thought ahead and mysteriously ensured they would not be intercepted by any of the inhabitants of the school. He was proud of Hermione, for she did not panic nor hesitate as they meandered along the passageways until they finally passed through the heavy doors that led them out into the night. Wordlessly, they followed her parents, the others in the procession filing silently behind.

He could feel her fear mounting as they walked further away from the castle - he was sure this was due to the vast countryside surrounding them. He was glad it was dark knowing that she couldn't truly see the spaciousness of the land about her in the dim moonlight though she obviously sensed it.

Albus cast a Lumos when the lights from the castle were far enough away to be ineffectual. Silently, Severus, Poppy, Minerva, and Remus all did the same, lighting their way as they solemnly trekked along a worn, narrow path in the craggy grass towards the ancient resting place of previous headmasters and professors, unclaimed students, house elves, and the occasional unknown which or wizard who came by the school just before death took them.

Hermione struggled to keep her mind on walking so she wouldn't panic at the thought of being beyond the safe confines of the castle. She took comfort from Remus' arm around her shoulders and her squirming baby in her arms. The uneven ground beneath her feet forced her to concentrate on her footing; it would be too easy to trip and fall as they slowly made their way in the darkness. 'Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. I shouldn't have talked Professor Dumbledore into doing this tonight. Maybe tomorrow night would have been better. I so wish we could go back.'

The night sounds around her distracted her from her fear-filled thoughts. The sighing of the wind through the leaves of the surrounding trees, singing of dozens of crickets and other unknown insects, hooting owls, and unseen animals scurrying in the brush intrigued her as well as frightened her.

Eyes wide, she tried to make out the landscape around her, but only saw the trees rising high above, looking like giant, shaggy fingers pointing up into the inky sky that was breathtakingly beautiful with its generous sprinkling of bright, twinkling lights. She looked at the stars and sucked in a breath, suddenly sure she saw the constellation Cassiopeia almost straight above her, bringing fresh tears as they slid down her cheeks. 'I see the constellation your daddy chose your name from, my baby. Oh, I wonder if he's looking up at the sky right now! Maybe he's looking at your constellation and thinking about you at this very moment. Wouldn't that be a miracle if he were?'

A small number of clouds were scattered about, a few slowly sliding in front of the moon, dimming the landscape before slipping past the orb, revealing its magnificent face and allowing its eerie glow to grace the land once more.

Nearly a quarter hour later, they found themselves within the grandly fenced graveyard. Hermione studied the six-foot high black metal fence for a moment, noting how it looked both ancient and yet pristine. She wondered what sort of enchantments were upon it to keep it from aging. It seemed odd that the castle would be allowed to age gracefully, yet the markers within the graveyard, some of which were several hundred years old, looked as if they had been placed not long ago, so perfect in appearance were they. The crickets within the fence, undisturbed, continued singing loudly as the invaders of their nighttime world gathered around in a circle.

Hermione, her eyes wide and darting, suddenly felt fearful that she had made the wrong choice for a resting place for her baby. 'I don't know why I'm worried, Hogwarts is such a lovely place. She'll be safe here, and I can visit her as often as I need to. She won't be alone, my little girl won't ever be alone. I just have to keep telling myself that. She won't be alone.'

She looked at the rows of headstones as they glowed in the moonlight. All of them were constructed of flawless, gleaming white marble with names and dates etched neatly upon them. She smiled and hugged Remus when she saw Adara already had a headstone, her full name – Adara Cassiopeia Black – and her birth and death dates already inscribed in graceful swirling letters. She was pleased to see tiny bows and stars fluttering around a small lamb that was also carved into the stone.

Wanting very much to touch her baby's marker, she found the path to it partially blocked by a mound of dirt and a heartrending tiny hole that had been dug into the rocky soil, lying in wait like the mouth of a giant monster, ready to swallow her baby whole and take her from her forever. Her eyes made out the coffin that Remus said he had made for her baby. She was disappointed that it didn't look anything like the little cradle she had envisioned in her mind, knowing now that she had been attempting to somehow feel better about the burial. 'I'm being ridiculous! Of course a coffin won't look like a cradle! She's not asleep. My little Adara isn't asleep. I know that. What was I thinking?'

Remus held her tightly as she emitted a tiny noise, not sure if it was one of grief or protest as she surveyed the scene before her. He looked down to see the child she possessively clutched in her arms reaching up and grabbing at her hair, pulling the curls into her mouth as she began to suck her tiny fists. Hermione wouldn't let anyone else hold Persimmonie as the time for the funeral neared, and she now held the infant tightly in her arms, almost as if she feared her other child would disappear or be taken from her.

Hearing a sob, Hermione turned slightly to look at Professor McGonagall dabbing at her eyes with a tightly wound handkerchief, the woman wringing and unwinding the cloth in her hands as she struggled to remain composed. She looked further down and saw Professor Snape, stoic as always, his dark eyes glittering in the moonlight as he watched the proceedings in silence. She thought she saw his eyes flit towards her a few times, but wasn't sure. 'Well, at least he isn't made of stone. By the way his jaw is clenching and unclenching, I'd say he's feeling some kind of emotion. That's good. He, at least, knew Adara while she was alive, if only briefly.' Beyond him was Madam Pomfrey, whispering to herself with her head bowed, her apron seeming to glow pale blue in the moonlight.

She looked at her parents, huddled together as they whispered unheard words to their granddaughter. She wondered what they were saying, knowing both wished they had known her before she died. For some reason, she felt guilty that her baby died before meeting her grandparents, and she didn't know why. The baby died from a poorly understood disease process, one she couldn't have prevented, and yet she felt guilty over her baby's death. She wondered briefly if it was something she'd done wrong; maybe she didn't love her enough? Or maybe... A few tears threatening to spill over her lashes, she blinked them back as she snuggled Persimmonie closer to her, nuzzling her nose through the child's wispy hair and pulling a few strands with her lips. She liked the smell of her baby and she took in a few deep whiffs of her scent. She breathed a few strands of her daughter's hair into her nose, making her twitch. Feeling her mum playing with her hair, Persimmonie promptly began sucking harder on her own hair-covered fists, a sign Hermione knew to mean the baby was content.

“Hermione, hon, do you want to say good-bye to Adara?”

Hearing her mother's words, she looked up from the baby in her arms, unable to move, not sure what to do. She had held Adara several times a day since she returned to Hogwarts, rocking the child and talking to her, telling her about her father (the good things only), telling her about her sister's progress as she grew, letting her know she loved and missed her – but, to her dismay, she found she didn't want to talk to or touch her baby at this moment. She didn't want to say her last good-bye. It would be so final, and she somehow felt that if she didn't say anything right now, that her baby wouldn't go away. That's not rational. I know that not to be true. I need to say good-bye to her. I must. I must.' Knowing she needed to move, Hermione stood still, her feet feeling like lead, as if they were planted into the rocky ground beneath her, where her baby was soon to be forever. 'I can't. I just can't.'

Shaking her head back and forth, she whispered, “Oh, I, I don't know, I...”

She felt Remus shift from behind as one arm let go of her. He brought his hand up to her chin and turned her face up to him. The moon, a few days from being full, the object that had taken her Remus away from her when she needed him most, was illuminated behind him, giving him an ethereal glow that nearly took her breath away. The moonlight seemed to erase the tiny lines on his face and masked the gray in his hair, making him look younger and less harried. She stared at him, trying to drink in the way he looked before reality set in, before the night was over and he'd look worried again - worried for her, new lines being added to his face every day because of her, increasing her guilt over his welfare. She watched, entranced, as he slowly lowered his face towards her, giving her a light peck on the lips before nestling his nose into her hair, his lips lightly grazing her ear.

“Hon,” he whispered into her ear, “give me Persimmonie so you can say good-bye to Adara. You'll regret it in the future if you don't.”

“I, I don't know, Remus.” She shook her head, her voice cracking. She snuggled against him, her eyes closed as she concentrated on his touch. “I don't want to say good-bye. I...”

“Go on, Hermione. You need to say good-bye to your daughter. Tell her you love her and you'll see her someday in the future.”

“I...”

Without a word, Remus pushed her from him and spun her so she faced him. He looked into her eyes, holding her still, keeping her quiet, seeming to speak to her wordlessly. Silently, she kissed Persimmonie, her eyes not leaving his, then handed her over to him, knowing he would protect her with his life if need be.

She looked down at her feet for a moment, her heart beating rapidly in her chest, protesting the emotions that surged through her. Tears poured from her eyes and splattered onto her shoes and the rocky dirt below; she wrung her hands, struggling to build up the courage to go and say her final good-byes to the body of her infant daughter. She took in several deep breaths, mindful of keeping herself from hyperventilating as she slowly exhaled. 'I'm going to stay in control. They don't need me falling apart right now, they're all struggling with their own feelings and don't need to deal with me as well.'

Haltingly, she turned; eyes blurred with tears and she fought to keep herself from tripping over the rough terrain. She picked up one leaden foot, then the other, and clumsily traipsed towards her parents – and the body of her daughter. It seemed eons before she made it the few feet to where she needed to be, her mind seeming to turn reality into a dream as she watched her father lower the bundle in his arms towards her so she could take her baby one last time.

She reached up and traced little Adara's nose with her finger, then her eyes, and finally her tiny mouth. It wasn't that long ago that those lips were sucking hungrily from her, her little fists pushing against her breast, itty-bitty nails scraping her skin, her teensy toes digging into her as she grunted contentedly. Now she was silent and still forever, her mother having to leave her in the miniscule, unforgiving hole in the ground, all alone, without her parents or sister to protect her or keep her company.

It was hard to conceive the notion of Adara not being alive, of being... dead. She hated using that word – dead. 'It's an ugly word. Dead. I hate that word' Whatever 'stasis' was, it kept the body soft, though cool, and there was no adverse odor. Adara truly looked to be sleeping. It was disturbing to hold her and sing to her and talk to her and not get a response from her baby. The first few times she held her after she died, Hermione had tried to awaken her – wanting to truly believe her to be asleep. She struggled to face facts, but it was so much easier to pretend.

Her eyes slid to the dark coffin where Adara's body would be placed. Would her baby be cold during the winter? Or too hot in the summer? Did the coming and going of the seasons affect the bodies buried in the ground? Surely the rain would. Hermione imagined water insidiously trickling down through the dirt until it finally reached her baby's coffin. Eventually, the coffin would become soaked, wouldn't it? And her little Adara would get wet. Cold and wet, with no one to dry her off or warm her up. Would the coffin flood? She guessed she didn't really need to worry about that, but she did. She hated the thought of her Adara being under water.

The inside of the coffin would be dark, too. Dark and cold and lonely. Thoughts of what would happen to Adara's body creeped in, though she tried to block them out. The body broke down – ashes to ashes, after all. Dust to dust. But there were body fluids that had to be dealt with. As far as Hermione knew, Adara had not been – she swallowed hard at the thought – embalmed. She was in what Madam Pomfrey called 'stasis'. Somehow, through some type of enchantment, her baby's body was being preserved. She wished this 'stasis' could be used forever, so her baby could stay with her. She'd keep Adara safe and would see to her comfort. But, she wasn't alive anymore, no matter how much she merely looked to be sleeping. She didn't need to be kept warm and dry, not anymore.

Would there be mold? She closed her eyes, cringing as images of moldy food came to mind. She didn't want that to happen to her baby! But, it would be dark in there, dark and wet. That meant mold. What kind of mold would there be? Mushrooms? Or green mold? Perhaps fluffy yellow mold? Or that horrid black stuff. Was there mold that would grow in cold, wet conditions? Surely there was.

With sudden horror, Hermione's eyes flew open as she thought about the insects that lived in the ground, her mind filling her with thoughts of what they would do to her baby once she abandoned her to Mother Nature. It just didn't seem right. 'It isn't right. She'll be alone down there, in that hole. In the ground. In the dark. It'll be wet and cold and scary for her! I won't be able to hold her, to keep her safe, to protect her. No, I just can't do it. I can't. They can't have my baby! They can't! She's mine!'

Lightening fast, she snatched Adara from her father and turned to run away, to take her baby back to the castle where she could watch over her and keep her safe. Hands grabbed at her, stopping her from her escape, and she began to scream and cry into the chilly air, hugging Adara tightly to her chest to stop those horrid hands pulling her baby from her.

“No! No! We can't leave her here! She'll be all alone! We can't! I can't! She's mine! She's my baby and I'm not leaving her here! No! No!”

Strong, unyielding arms came around her and held her tightly, forcefully pulling her down to her knees on the ground and keeping her immobile. These arms didn't try to take her baby from her, rather they encircled her own and held her baby closer to her as she cried desperately for her baby to come back, telling her how she was sorry she didn't watch over her better, how she failed her as a mother for not protecting her at her time of need. Over many long, agonizing minutes, with those strong arms around her, keeping her still and allowing her to hold her baby, she cried herself out until she was left whimpering pathetically into her baby's fine, dark hair.

'I can't give up my baby. I can't give her up. I can't. I can't.'

After gazing at her baby for an unmeasured amount of time, chanting 'I can't' to herself, she finally looked up wearily and saw the agonized face of Remus before her. He was on his knees, his shaky hands stroking her hair and face, talking to her calmly despite the tears coursing down his own face. She couldn't see them, but she suddenly realized her mother was crying somewhere in the background, her father talking to her soothingly. Slowly, she became aware of the sound of Persimmonie's shrill cry cutting through the dark; her heart aching more as she vaguely wondered if her baby was injured in some way, then grasped the fact that the cry wasn't one of pain, but one of being startled. 'Remus was holding her, wasn't he? And now he's here, without her in his arms, trying to calm me down. Who has Persimmonie now, I wonder?'

She felt far removed from the situation, everything seemingly out of focus, the noises around her blending together but yet sounding sharply distinct. She lowered her eyes, for the first time noticing the arms that held her tightly. She looked up and back to see who held her, thinking it would be Professor Dumbledore, but was surprised to find Professor Snape there instead. Her eyes widened as he looked down at her, his eyes expressionless and yet so full of emotion it nearly hurt her to peer into them, his arms remaining tightly around her as she fought to regain control of herself. She whimpered a few times, fresh tears escaping along with the pathetically small amount of control she thought she had. Professor Snape's lips thinned into a straight line as she began to cry again, and she sensed his irritation with her. Anguished, she turned away from the intense black eyes of Severus Snape, her beseeching red-rimmed ones scanning Remus' for the comfort she so desperately needed.

“Oh, Remus! I can't leave her here! She'll be all a-a-a-alone! She's just a baby, I can't leave my ba-ba-ba-baby here!”

Remus looked up at Severus, looking at him for guidance in his moment of desperation. The man's face was tense, but remained impassive, not giving him a clue on how to proceed. His arms slid from Severus' face, moving along the dark, wool covered arms that held his girl in place, and finally stopped at the pale hands that were clasped tightly together. Her parents had attempted to remove Adara's body from their stricken daughter's arms while he hastily shoved Persimmonie at Minerva so he could grab her himself. When he turned from Minerva, he found that Severus had already seized her from behind, as was his intent. He felt a fleeting spasm of jealousy well up within him as he observed Severus' legs on either side of her, one knee on the ground, with her body safely cocooned in his arms. 'Stop this! Being jealous won't help her! I guess it's best he has her so I can talk to her without distraction. Otherwise, I'd be the one behind her, keeping her still, instead of in front of her, trying to talk sense into her.'

Rubbing her cheek with his thumb, he spoke very softly. “Hermione, honey, this is her body, sweetie. You know that. Her spirit is elsewhere now. She knows you love her, hon. She knows you miss her. But this is her body, sweetie. It's only the vessel that held her spirit, her soul. You can let her body go, hon. Let her go, sweetie.”

“I don't want to! I wa-want to keep her! Why can't I keep her? Please, Remus! She-she-she's my baby, I want to keep her with me, I want...”

“Hermione, no. Be realistic, hon. You can't keep her forever. She's dead, hon. You have to deal with the fact that your baby is dead. Persimmonie is the one who needs you now, hon.” Remus' voice cracked as he spoke to her. He was trying to be firm, but he struggled to keep from crying himself. “Come on, Hermione, Adara is dead, and this is her body. Her spirit has moved on, and you have to accept it.”

Hermione shook her head, tears cascading down her cheeks and dripping onto her baby's face and hair. “N-n-n-no, no, she needs to stay [gasp-sob] w-w-w-wi-with me. I can't, I can't, I can't leave her. She's, she's got to be-be-be hungry by-by-by now, Remus. And she's, she's so cold. I have to, to get her warm. And, and, and her nappy must be a m-m-mess by now.”

Remus wiped the tears from his face, beginning to panic. 'Oh, my dear God, she's lost it. She's finally lost it. Hermione, baby, don't lose your mind and leave me, baby. Don't do that to me.' He looked up at Severus as the man continued to hold her securely in place, keeping her from bolting away while he tried to talk sense into her. The momentary unguarded look on Severus' face told him the man was thinking the same as him – that she had finally lost her mind.

“Hermione, no. Don't do this. You know she's dead. Adara is dead, hon. Listen to me. She's dead. Her body is cold because she is dead. She won't ever be hungry again, and she doesn't feel the cold, and she'll never feel pain because she is dead. Do you hear me?”

“But, Remus... She-she-she can't be. She's my [gasp-sigh] ba-baby. She has to st-st-stay with me.” Her head lolling against the Professor's chest, she rolled her head to look at the barren mound of dirt sitting beside the horrid hole in the ground that was meant to be her baby's final resting place for all eternity. To her, that tiny hole looked like a menacing chasm, its edges slightly ragged like an edentulous mouth ready to cruelly swallow her baby's body. She began to shiver. Her teeth clattering together, her body suddenly feeling as if it had turned ice. “I ca-ca-ca-can't let her go d-d-d-do-down in there. It's d-d-d-d-dark. An-an-an-and it'll get wet an-an-an-and she'll drown. And there [gasp-sigh] are b-b-b-b-bu-bugs in there waiting to bite her an-an-an-and hurt her.”

Remus put his hands on either side of her face and forced her to look at him. “Sweetie, Adara can't drown because she is dead. Do you understand me, hon? Your baby is dead. Adara is dead.”

“But, but, but what about...”

“Sweetheart, Albus will seal the coffin magically, no insects or water will be able to get into the coffin. Nothing will harm her body. Do you hear me, hon?”

“N-n-n-n-n-no bugs?” She hugged Adara closer to her as her teeth continued to chatter noisily. “You pr-pr-pr-promise?”

“I promise, hon. And, yes, it's dark where her body is going, but this is just her body, sweetie. Her body isn't afraid of the dark. Adara's spirit, the part that thought and felt, is gone now. She's with others now. She isn't alone.”

“Sh-sh-she isn't? She's n-n-n-n-not alone? [yawn] I don't w-want her to b-b-b-b-be alone, Remus. I don't want h-h-h-h-her to be afraaaaaaaaaid.”

“She isn't, hon. Okay? She's safe where she is.”

“Where is she, R-R-R-R-Remus? Where is she that-that-that she isn't afraid?”

Remus shook his head slowly. “I have no answer for you, hon. I'm sorry, but I can't answer that question because I honestly don't know. But, you know from the ghosts at Hogwarts that they chose a different path to follow, because they were afraid. Adara was too young to be afraid, so she moved on. Little ones don't become ghosts, sweetie. Adara is with the other spirits who moved on, and they'll keep her safe until you also pass over. Then you'll be able to meet her.”

“Y-y-you-you're sure? I-I-I-I don't want her to be a-a-a-[gasp-sigh]alone. Or afraid. Or hur-hur-hurting.”

“I'm sure, hon.” He reached forward and ran his hand through Adara's fine hair. “It's time to lay her to rest, sweetie. You need to say good-bye.”

“I-I-I-I...”

“You can do it, sweetie. Come on, hon. Say good-bye.”

Hermione gazed into her baby's face, her fingers slowly tracing her features one last time. She wiped the tears off of the child's face and smoothed her hair down before raising her up and kissing her eyes, her nose, and her tiny lips. She brought her up further and hugged her tightly, whispering her good-bye's into her baby's ear one last time. Feeling as if she were in a dream, she watched as Remus took Adara from her arms, gave the infant a kiss on her forehead, then stood and carried her to her grandfather.

The surprisingly comforting arms of Professor Snape, the ones that had been holding her securely in place, tightened around her briefly and lifted her to a standing position before relinquishing her into Remus' embrace. She twisted around to see Professor Snape stepping back, his wand coming out and lighting up with a silent Lumos, his eyes on her parents and daughter.

Wondering if Persimmonie was all right, she searched for her baby by standing on her tiptoes and peering over Remus' shoulder. She found her, now silent, in Professor McGonagall's arms. The older woman rocked and cooed at her, her right hand gently tapping the babe's bottom. Greatly relieved, she smiled, knowing her baby was in good hands.

Closing her eyes, Hermione put her arms around Remus' waist, her ear against his chest to listen to the calming sounds of his heart, her head tilting up so her lips were against the corresponding pulse in his neck. She continued to sniffle quietly, finally ready to accept the fact that she would never see her baby in this life again.

“I want Persimmonie. Give me my baby.” She let go of Remus and held out her arms. Hesitating for the briefest of moments, Minerva reluctantly handed her living daughter over to her. Hugging Persimmonie close, Hermione leaned against Remus, taking comfort in his protective embrace.

Her mother's voice, trained from many years on the church choir, suddenly filled the quiet night air with a melody Hermione vaguely remembered hearing on the radio long ago. The song, Precious Child, brought tears to her eyes; her mother's beautiful voice seeming to still the wind and hush the night creatures as if they had all paused to listen. Everyone bowed their heads as she sang, only one pair of eyes remaining dry as the words flowed around them, touching them with their sadness and beauty.

In my dreams, you are alive and well
Precious child, precious child
In my mind, I see you clear as a bell
Precious child, precious child
In my soul, there is a hole
That can never be filled
But in my heart, there is hope
'Cause you are with me still

In my heart, you live on
Always there, never gone
Precious child, you left too soon
Tho' it may be true that we're apart
You will live forever... in my heart

In my plans, I was the first to leave
Precious child, precious child
But in this world, I was left here to grieve
Precious child, my precious child

In my soul, there is a hole
That can never be filled
But in my heart there is hope
And you are with me still

In my heart you live on
Always there, never gone
Precious child, you left too soon,
Tho' it may be true that we're apart
You will live forever... in my heart

God knows I want to hold you,
See you, touch you
And maybe there's a heaven
And someday I will again
Please know you are not forgotten until then

In my heart you live on
Always there never gone
Precious child, you left too soon
Tho' it may be true that we're apart
You will live forever... in my heart.

Her song finished, Jane wiped away the tears that covered her cheeks and stood back, allowing her husband to come forward. Obviously proud of his wife, he kissed her cheek, whispering gentle words to her before moving towards their grandchild's final resting place. Minerva reached forward and tapped Jane's shoulder, giving the woman a much needed hug. Poppy joined in as they whispered words of solace to each other, the three women comforting each other with tears and hugs before turning their attention back to Adara and her grandfather.
Silently, everyone watched as Robert lowered Adara into a tiny coffin made of ancient oak and lined with the cloth from one of Hermione's new satin nightgowns that Remus had bought for her. Earlier that day, Hermione had chosen a green one to line the coffin, stating she knew that that was Remus' favorite color - he didn't ask her how she knew, he just smiled with the knowledge that a small part of him, even if it was only a color, was going to be with the baby - the little girl he had grown to love - in her pint-sized grave.

After a moment of silence, Albus lifted his wand and swished it in the air. The lid to the coffin lifted from the ground and lowered itself over the tiny bundle within, sealing itself forever with a creak. Another swish and the coffin lifted gracefully into the air and slowly sank down the dark hole as he spoke quietly, his tone heavy with emotion.

“To the Gods and Godesses of our world...
We stand before you in a dark time,
And entrust to your great care the tiny light before you-
Adara, whose smile was brighter than the sun,
Whose delight was in things both great and small,
A little one who was loved completely.

"We pray you welcome her into the Summerlands,
And that she might rest in your great house.
I pray you guide her to her family,
That they may be together in paradise.
I pray you keep us strong in this dark time of mine,
And grant her mother the strength to live without her
As she would have bid her to do.
Grant all the strength to live with her loss,
For there were many who loved her,
And many will speak her name with fondness."

By the time Albus finished, Hermione had sunk down to her knees on the hard ground, rocking back and forth as silent tears trickled down her cheeks. Remus' arms were still around her and he softly spoke words of comfort into her ear. Her parents clung to each other and watched Remus reassure their daughter, both wanting to grab onto her and hold her tightly, but neither wanting to disturb the comfort she was being given by the man they now completely entrusted their only daughter's welfare to. After a few minutes, unable to contain herself any longer, Jane walked towards her daughter and crouched down before her. She grabbed Hermione's hand and held it to her chest, reaching out to brush some of her baby's unruly locks away from her face, tucking a few curls behind her ear and cupping her daughter's chin so she could look into Hermione's tear-stained face.

“It'll be okay, Hermione.” Jane sniffled loudly as she tried to keep her voice even. “Sweetie, you know Adara is safe where she is now.”

“Oh, mum, we don't know. We just don't know! Her life was so short! What if that was her only chance at life!” Hearing the distress in her mother's voice, Persimmonie gave out a little whining grunt. “She'll never know that I really did love her. She'll, she, she's, she'll...” Unable to finish, Hermione turned towards Remus and began to cry in earnest. His hands came around her and he held her close, murmuring into her hair.

While comforting his girl, Remus suddenly became aware of Persimmonie beginning to squirm, her grunting becoming pained as she was slowly crushed between them. A jolt of fear stabbed through him as he thought how closely this resembled what happened to Adara. Anxious to give the child more space, he quickly pulled back and grabbed one of Hermione's arms in an attempt to loosen her grip upon her daughter.

“Jane, would you please take Persimmonie?”

Jane reacted quickly to Remus' sharp command, her hands coming down to remove Persimmonie from her daughter's arms.

“No! No, Remus, no.” Hermione pulled the baby closer to her and tried to twist away from the hands she saw as a threat to her daughter.

“Hon, you're hurting her. You don't want to hurt her, sweetie.” He began prying Hermione's arms from around the infant. “Let go, hon. Let your mother take her.”

Finally seeing reason, Hermione let go of her baby, giving her a kiss on the top of her head as her mother lifted the infant from her arms. As soon as Persimmonie was away, Hermione turned and threw her arms around Remus as she sobbed into his chest. 'Oh, Remus! I miss my baby! Will I meet her again? Please let her be happy right now! Say she isn't suffering! Let my baby be okay! Please!'

“Sweetie, I told you, she's fine, she...”

“Oh, Remus...” Hermione wailed into his chest, kicking her legs and writhing in anguish.

“Shhh, I know, hon, I know.”

Watching the scene unfold before them, the four standing wizards and witches glanced at each other gravely. The could all see that Hermione was finally accepting her daughter's death, and might now be able to begin the healing process from her time with Sirius. The two witches tearfully struggled to contain their heartbreak while the wizards looked at each other sternly, each taking stock of their emotions and trying to think of how best to deal with them.

Mr. Granger stood utterly still, not sure what to do as he watched his daughter cry inconsolably in another man's arms while his wife stood nearby and wept into the blanket that was swaddled around their granddaughter. Shaking his head sharply as if coming to his senses, he ambled over to his wife and put his arms around them both, hugging them close. Within moments, Persimmonie began to settle within the now calm embrace of her grandmother's arms, giving a great yawn as she contentedly drifted off to sleep.

Minerva began fanning herself with her hand and wiped away a few tears with her handkerchief. “Oh, my, Albus. This was far more emotional than I expected,” she whispered, her eyes never leaving Hermione's form.

Looking up at the sky to help keep his tears in check, Albus cleared his throat before speaking. “Yes. Yes, it was. Hopefully, now that Miss Granger has been able to truly cry and mourn over the death of her baby, she will be able to come to terms with what has happened to her this past year.”

“I hope so, I truly hope so.”

Severus, his eyes fathomless as he watched Hermione, turned to look at the grave. “Perhaps it would be best to fill in the grave, Headmaster?”

Albus briefly stared at the mound of rocky soil before flicking his eyes to the dark grave where Adara now lay. “I think that we should wait a few more minutes. I believe Miss Granger needs to see this so she may find some closure.”

Rolling his eyes, Severus sighed. “If we must.”

“Yes, Severus, I believe we must.”

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Author's notes for this section of the chapter:

Powerful image:
http://www.slide.com/s/GpqKTWN06D9C6D7EYHyqfi_oVDyVgtKR
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How many of us bend to this? All of us... Problems start when group conformity forces us to decide if we are going to risk social rejection, are going to become compliant, or are going to internalize the behavior set by society... Some conformity is good, it's what keeps society as a whole in check... But individuality can be lost if the personality isn't strong... For instance, I like wearing clothing with fairy wings and those with a medieval theme to them... Definitely not what most of society would wear, especially where I work – in a hospital... But I wear the clothes I enjoy anyway because that is me... I could conform to the social norms of where I work by wearing the boring stuff the others wear, but I don't... I admit that it's also my rebellious streak being activated when I put my clothes on before going to work... To me, that just shows I'm a strong person... I don't go to work nude (wouldn't want to scare anybody that much!) because that's way out of the social norm for where I work, so I live on the edge with my medieval attire – not one of the bunch but within grasp...

The serious issue of people conforming to acts that harm others so they feel 'one of the group' is what the beginning of this chapter is about... We've all been there as teenagers... And the pull is still there as adults... Just turn on the TV and you can see it... Youtube is full of it... Our morals are what help us decide to follow the right path or the wrong... If our lives aren't complicated with the fact we may be injured or killed by becoming outcasts, that is... What would you do if you had to skim the line like Severus does? Or like the WWII soldiers who were mentioned?

Anyway, this is one of the messages I'm trying to get across in this chapter... Think on it...
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Conformity
http://changingminds.org/explanations/needs/conformity.htm
http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2009/01/090114124109.htm

Remember the movie 'Dead Poets Society'? Oh, what a message that held on conformity!
http://www.stevencscheer.com/deadpoetssociety.htm
http://www.allfreeessays.com/essays/Dead-Poet-S-Society-Conformity/40635.html

'Lord of the Flies' is another example of conformity... As is the movie 'Footloose', though I'm not partial to that movie other than for the music...
http://www.echeat.com/essay.php?t=26533

I hope I gave you useful food for thought...
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We're all guilty of this as well... Makes life interesting as long as we don't go too far:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/One-upmanship
http://blogcritics.org/culture/article/one-upmanship-or-im-better-than/
http://1stholistic.com/Reading/liv_beaten-down.htm
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Northern hemisphere star chart (look at the one for spring to see where the constellation Cassiopeia is):
http://mail.colonial.net/~hkaiter/zodiacconstellations.html
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Normally, I hate stories that have songs scattered throughout them because I feel the author is trying to fill up a chapter with the words of the song... So, I debated on whether or not to add the lyrics to my chosen funeral song in this chapter. In the end, I decided the song is too pretty and very much a part of this chapter, so I added the words in... I figure a bunch of those who read this chapter won't listen to the song (link below), but they may actually read the lyrics.

I hope you agree that the song is fitting...

The song, “Precious Child”, was written by Karen Taylor Good and is beautiful, you simply must listen to it:
http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/k/karen_taylor_good/precious_child.html
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Prayer that Albus says for Adara found here (and modified a bit to suit the story):
http://en.allexperts.com/q/Pagan-Wiccan-Religion-3207/2008/6/wiccan-prayer-funeral.htm
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Oh, and yes, yes, yes! I know it's a big coincidence that Hermione's mother can sing so lovely! Isn't fanfic wonderful?

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