When Living is No Longer Enough

Disclaimer: See Chapter One.

Chapter Seven


The moment Hermione opened her eyes she knew that it was a mistake. Squinting against the sunlight that mercilessly streamed through the oversized window, she muttered a few curse words and buried her head in her arms. That was her second mistake for the simple act of movement sent pain shooting throughout her body. Looking down at herself she realized that, once she had finally managed to fall asleep after the breaking of dawn, she had somehow managed to contort her limbs into a fetal position and was precariously perched on the tapestry covered wing-backed chair nestled close to the fireplace. It was an old chair but still quite comfortable. 'At least it was comfortable until now,' she thought wryly as she slowly stretched her arms and legs and allowed the blood to circulate once again. Glancing at the clock, she realized that it was a quarter past nine and briefly panicked fearing she had missed her first class. 'No wait a minute, it's Saturday.' Only then, when she had reoriented herself to time and place, did everything from the previous night began to come back to her with razor sharp clarity.

"Oh Gods!" she cried out to the empty room in anguish, doubling over and holding her stomach as if in physical pain. Ginny Weasley had been her best friend, her best female friend at any rate. The young Witch had been the only friend of the female persuasion that Hermione had ever been able to open up to and truly confide in, and though she loved Harry and Ron with all of her heart, talking to them about the intimate details of her life was just somehow never the same.

"Ron," she whispered sadly, knowing that the death of his younger sister was going to completely devastate him. Despite their constant bickering, he had been closest to the youngest Weasley. True, he respected his older brothers Bill and Charlie and even Percy, although to a lesser degree, and he did his very best to emulate the pranks of George and Fred, but he always identified more with Ginny. 'Maybe it's a type of youngest sibling syndrome,' Hermione thought upon more than one occasion. 'At least he'll have the rest of his family there to console him, unlike Harry who will only have...'

Abruptly breaking that particular chain of thought, the young Witch allowed the tears to plummet unchecked down her cheeks and watched, trancelike, as the shimmering droplets fell to the floor to form two small puddles that glistened as the morning rays of sunlight glinted off of them. Sensing the obvious distress of his mistress, Crookshanks left his hiding place and slowly sauntered over to lie on the bed next to the shaking form of his long time owner.

"Poor Harry," she whispered to the oversized bundle of orange fur. "What is he going to do now? It will be hard enough for him to deal with the loss of his relatives but I'm afraid that coping with Ginny's death on top of everything else will be too much for him to handle Crooks." Picking up the oversized ball of fur, she clutched him tightly to her chest and found herself falling back into her childhood pattern of rocking back and forth in an effort to obtain some small measure of solace.

"He loved her so much," she sobbed to the feline, "and she was so happy about their upcoming wedding. We were supposed to go dress shopping next week." Minutes passed and still her tears fell unheeded down her cheeks as she remembered her friend's happiness over Harry's proposal.


"Hermione!" the red-haired witch cried happily. "Look!"

Hermione looked at her smiling friend, currently holding out her left hand to show off her very recently acquired engagement ring. An oval, medium sized diamond, flanked by tiny ruby begets sparkled back at her from a bed of polished gold. She had known that Harry had finally gathered the courage to ask the young woman to marry him. She just hadn't known that he had intended to ask on Christmas Eve. Giving her friend a warm hug, Hermione murmured words of congratulations and the girls began chatting excitedly about the many preparations that would have to be completed before the ceremony was to take place.

"I just can't believe it, Hermione," the young Witch had said, dabbing at the tears of happiness that shone from her eyes. "I mean, we've been dating for years but every time I tried to bring up the subject, he'd go quiet and mumble something about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named still being around. I mean seriously, if we're really honest with ourselves, he could be around for a long time and if we wait until he's gone then I might end up walking down the aisle when I'm old enough to need the assistance of a cane or a levitating spell at the very least! And then, all of a sudden, he asked me last night after dinner and I could barely believe it! I think I nearly pulled his neck out of alignment from hugging him so tightly!"

"Is she still talking about that barmy ring?" Ron's voice rang out from the doorway to the living room. "I mean, it's not like she's never seen one before and it's not like anything's going to really be all that different now is it? After all, they've been dating for years!"

"Ronald Weasley," shouted a shrill voice from behind the tall redheaded young man. "Let your sister have her moment of happiness. Just because you haven't found some nice young Witch to settle down with doesn't mean that you have the right to stand there and complain!"

"But Mum!" the youngest of the Weasley boys cried out in protest, "We've been hearing the same thing over and over again since last night. I swear, if I have to hear it one more time then I'm going to seriously consider casting a silencing charm on her until it's time for her to say 'I Do' and move out! And besides, it's not my fault that I'm not seeing anyone right now. I mean, I asked Hermione and she turned me down flat."

"And a right smart decision that was too," his mother answered, sending a warm smile in Hermione's direction.

Rolling her eyes at the affectionate banter running between the three members of the Weasley clan, she returned the smile to Mrs. Weasley. "Is there anything I can do to help you get ready for Christmas dinner?" she asked, trying to guide the conversation back to neutral ground.

"No, dear," Molly said, wiping her hands on her apron. "I've just about got everything ready and then we can all sit down to eat. It's not often that you two get a chance to catch up on things, what with Ginny always off hunting down Death Eaters and you teaching at Hogwart's. Ronald, you round up the rest of the boys and let them know that dinner is almost ready."


It had been a wonderful holiday and Hermione had never seen Harry so happy. The newly engaged couple had set the wedding date for nearly a year and a half in the future to allow Ginny plenty of time to prepare for the big day. They would have been happy with quietly marrying on the spot but, as Ginny was the only girl in the Weasley family, they both knew that Molly would relish the opportunity to make a big affair of the whole event.

"The wedding was only five months away Crooks," she sobbed softly, grabbing a corner of the bed linens and wiping her face. "They were so close, only to have it all ripped away."

Laying the cat back down on the bed, she stood up and made her way to the bathroom to clean up before contacting the Weasley's and offering her condolences. She knew Harry would be with them at the Burrow and just prayed they would help him maintain enough presence of mind to avoid doing something rash. Hermione knew that both Ron and Harryld bld be out for blood and unfortunately, the blood they would be going for would be Voldemort's. She also knew that if they charged off in search of vengeance now, given their current mental states, they would be joining the red-haired Witch in the afterlife much sooner than was necessary.

"Oh my, rough night, dearie?" the enchanted mirror asked when Hermione entered the bathroom and looked at her reflection in the glass. "You look a fright!" the mirror rambled on sympathetically.

"Yes well, losing your best friend will do that to you," she snapped and then winced as the mirror murmured an affronted "hmmf".

'Oh no, I'm starting to sound like Severus,' she thought, her laughter tinged with hysteria. Suddenly, her body stood perfectly still in front of the mirror now reflecting the shock that was clearly evident on her tear-stained facial features. She had been so consumed with grief for her friends that she had completely forgotten about everything else Albus had told her the previous night. 'The Headmaster said that Draco had been working as a double agent for the light and that Severus had been training him in the nuances of espionage since our sixth year. Well, he really did a spectacular job because I never would have guessed it with all of the taunts and Mudblood comments. He seemed so much like...well, like a Malfoy that the thought of his wanting to serve anything or anyone other than Voldemort just never crossed my mind. Dumbledore said that Severus had become like a father to Malf... I mean Draco, during the past seven years so all of this must be difficult for him too,' she thought, trying to sort through all of the new and surprising information she had been given about her childhood nemesis.

Deciding that she would check on the Potions Master later that day, she continued with her morning bathing rituals. Nearly an hour later, the young woman emerged from the bathroom looking decidedly more human than she had when she went in. Opening the double doors of the oversized closet, she quickly chose an ensemble of Muggle clothing that consisted of dark jeans and a woolen jumper speckled with muted shades of purple. A pair of calf-high, leather boots that laced up the front, completed the ensemble.

After applying a small amount of make-up to her face in an attempt to cover the telltale signs of a night spent crying, she half-heartedly muttered a few charms to straighten and plait her hair. Giving herself a final, critical glance in the mirror, she walked to the fireplace. "It will just have to do," she muttered, grabbing a handful of floo powder from the ceramic box on the oversized wooden mantel. Taking one final deep breath she called out in a clear, crisp voice "the Burrow" and waited nervously for the face of one of the red-haired Weasleys to appear amidst the green flames.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Severus Snape was beginning to worry. Of course, no one else was allowed to know this so he covered the emotion by snapping at anyone who had the misfortune of crossing his path.

"That will be five points from Hufflepuff," he growled to a young boy who was not paying attention and, as a result, ran directly into the tall, slender frame of the Potions Master. By the time he had made his way from the Great Hall to his chambers, he had managed to deduct a total of thirty points and send one unfortunate First Year running down the corridor in tears.

'Nothing but dunderheads,' he muttered in disgust, crossing to his bookshelves and selecting a Muggle murder mystery that was currently listed at the top of the best-selling charts. After attempting to read the same paragraph several times, he stood up and tossed the book down on the coffee table with a little more force than was really necessary.

'She wasn't at lunch,' he groused silently, his mouth drawing into a fr 'A 'And Flitwick mentioned that she wasn't at breakfast either.'

The actuality of the situation was that he was worried about the chestnut haired Gryffindor. He knew that Ginny Weasley was one of her closest friends and the fact that her remaining two best friends were greatly suffering was only going to serve to make matters more difficult for the young woman. All in all, last night's events would prove to be a crushing blow to the emotional well being of all three members of the former Dream Team.

'You're going soft, Snape,' an inner voice sneered. 'Two years ago, you wouldn't have been concerned about those meddling Gryffindors. Two weeks ago, you would have at least had the decency to pretend that their problems didn't bother you in the least. And now, after one small kiss, you're ready to pathetically drag yourself to her rooms to assure yourself that she is indeed alive and well.'

"Oh shut up!" Severus yelled to the empty room and continued his pacing. "Of course I want to know that she's alright. After all, Albusectsects us to work with one another. It is merely a matter of professional courtesy and concern for our upcoming project, nothing more."

'Absolutely, and you would do the same thing for Madam Hooch or Filch or Flitwick or even Minerva. The fact that it's Hermione Granger has nothing at all to do with your current state of distraction,' the voice mocked.

"Enough!" Snape ordered, momentarilietiieting the jeering voice in his head. 'I am worried about her,' he admitted to himself, 'and for more than just professional reasons.' He thought back to the kiss they had shared only last night and wondered if there was really a possibility that the woman could actually have feelings for him.

**"We'll have to continue this discussion another time." **

She hadn't seemed to be revolted or disgusted by their shared moment together. 'In fact, she seemed just as sorry as I when we were interrupted, and she did agree to continue the discussion later,' he remembered, allowing a typical Snape-like smirk to momentarily settle over his pale features.

'You can't do this,' his inner voice cautioned. 'Voldemort will stop at nothing to eventually bring about your death and he would not hesitate to harm anyone you might care about. Look what he has done to Potter.'

"That doesn't mean that the same thing will happen to Hermione," he argued, but the twinge of doubt was there and it was beginning to grow.

'Are you really willing to take that chance?' the voice pushed. 'Is the thought of pursuing a relationship with her worth the price that she may be required to pay in the end? A price you both may pay?'

"I need to get out of here for a while," he exclaimed in frustration, knowing that there was nowhere for him to go, no place where he could visit in an attempt to distract himself from his current thoughts of doubt and concern.

"Damn you, Voldemort," he whispered angrily to the Dark Mark that stood out against the pale skin of his arm. "Damn us both."


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

TBC