Hermione wanted to die in a field of flowers.
It was an ideal way to die, with beauty and life guiding her to darkness, giving her hope that there was a better place somewhere far away from here. Surely, if the earth could produce a scene so wonderful, heaven must be even more magnificent. She would pray that the people she loved could have the same, that the fear of the unknown would escape them knowing that earth’s beauties were nothing compared to heaven. She would pray that Harry would find his parents and be able to hear all of the words that they’ve wanted to say to him since they left this earth. She wanted Harry to finally reach the happiness that he, in Hermione’s mind, had always been promised. She wished for Ron to see his family again and to know that he is worth something more than what this cold world had offered him. And more than anything, she wanted to see her mom and dad and tell them that she wished she had been there sooner.
Instead, Hermione was going to die in Dumbledore’s office. It was not a bad death, because she loved the person who owned the office with all of her heart, but, at the same time, she didn’t imagine she would be this young. Her body would be tortured and mutilated, and she wouldn’t be able to say goodbye to anyone. The only motivation she had was that beautiful place she imagined beyond the clouds.
Not that she was giving up just yet.
They had been stuck in the Headmaster’s office for Merlin knows how long, and there was still a small chance that they would get out alive. Dumbledore and Snape were intensely mumbling spell after spell on the door to keep the Death Eaters out, both limping from their exertion. They were bruised and bloodied, but their minds were still strong. Harry and Ron were pacing and trying to figure out how to leave the castle without being detected. Harry had the most injuries as he was the one they were after, but he didn’t seem to notice. Hermione was doing a little bit of both, and she was also destroying anything in the office that would help the Death Eaters.
This last order from Dumbledore made her sad, because the office was slowly losing it’s eccentric air and it’s gaiety of life. Hermione was destroying all the objects that had fascinated her throughout the years. All the spy equipment, all the rare magical devices, all the muggle toys he collected, his rare books, and his treasures were being thrown away. She couldn’t help but feel like she was depriving the world of something special.
“Dumbledore?” she asked as she reluctantly looked through the cabinet that contained his memories. “Do you want to keep these?”
The Headmaster glanced over as he silently swished his wand to create magical bolts on the door. He noticed Hermione standing next to the vials, her robes tattered, her hair a mess, and scratches covering her face and frowned a bit. Hermione glanced at him confusedly and was about to turn away when he said, “Can you please retrieve the vials that are midnight purple, Miss Granger.”
“But sir, memories are supposed to be clear,” she protested in spite of herself.
“Hermione, just do it,” Ron snapped. “This is no time to be a know-it-all, because that isn’t one of our choices right now.”
Hermione glared at him for a split second and couldn’t help but be grateful at how normal he was acting despite their situation. Both of his eyes were almost swollen shut, he was limping, and his right hand was enlarged and turning a nasty shade of purple, yet he was still able to get annoyed with her.
Hermione almost wanted to cry until she heard a blunt banging noise from the other side of the door.
She glanced at Harry, who gave her that lopsided, messy grin for encouragement, and she rummaged through the cabinet, her sorrow of having to destroy temporarily gone, quickly breaking vials of Dumbledore’s memories as the bangs on the door started sounding like cannon fire. Her hands were shaking, and she swiftly glanced back at Snape and Dumbledore, working calmly on their defensive spells. In her mind, she knew the enchantments wouldn’t be able to hold, because dark magic had its ways of maneuvering and manipulating it’s limits.
At last, after a minute of searching and countless of vials breaking, she saw the memories Dumbledore mentioned. They were in three vials shaped like Harry’s lightening bolt scar, and they held a certain intensity that made Hermione skeptical about touching them. She then looked at all the broken glass and made a mental decision to not think about how she had ruined part of Dumbledore’s past. She hesitated for a split second more; then, she took the vials and quickly floated them over to Dumbledore.
“Severus,” she heard him whisper as Snape mumbled a final spell. “It’s time.” Snape nodded and took the vials from Dumbledore. He reached in his robe and pulled out a black box no bigger than the tip of a quill and enlarged it to store the vials. As he mumbled protective spells over the box, Dumbledore walked towards Harry and Ron and motioned for Hermione to come as well. To Hermione, this order was strange, because they were completely sacrificing the door to malicious dark magic. She uttered one last protective spell for her own benefit, rushed over, and almost tripped over an injured Malfoy.
Ron had actually carried him in there. Lucius and Bellatrix had been about to kill Ron when he went to go rescue Gryffindor’s sword. Malfoy had been there as well and had been ordered to kill him, but instead, he turned his wand on his father and his mistress and killed them both. All along, we thought he had wanted Narcissa killed, but instead, Ron could tell at that moment that he had been torn by her death and that he had chosen against his father. Hermione didn’t think that Ron would ever admit it, but he had allowed himself to trust someone that he had hated all of his life. Ron had changed for the better because of this battle; and, tripping over Malfoy had reminded Hermione that there was still hope for them.
Dumbledore saw Hermione’s blunder and looked at Malfoy with calm but proud eyes. He was seriously injured, but Dumbledore needed him awake, so he revived him knowing that he would be in pain. When Malfoy woke up, he started yelling like he was being burned alive, his body convulsing, and his head banging against the stone floor. The other side of the door heard, and they taunted him as the cannon fire started sounding like a lightning storm.
“Oh that must be Draco. He sounds even more delicious now than he did in the torture room last week!”
“Scream like your mother did, boy!”
“Lucius should have killed you when you were born!”
Snape, done with his enchantments on the box, rushed over towards Malfoy to give him a potion bottle. It looked like black ink, but everyone in the order knew that it was Snape’s secret cure for dark magic injuries. He forced Malfoy to drink the whole disgusting smelling bottle and waited. After a couple of seconds, the worst of his wound seemed to heal, and Malfoy was left on the floor limp and breathing heavily. Snape picked him up effortlessly and waited for Dumbledore to continue.
Dumbledore nodded at Severus before turning back to us with a twinkle in his eye. At the same time, he motioned with his hand, and the trio could hear the Phoenix cage opening. Fawkes, having been reborn again two months prior, flew out and looked to be in the first blooms of youth. His feathers were like fire and his eyes could pierce through the darkest of souls. The majestic bird flew onto Dumbledore’s arm and clipped his neck with his beak. Dumbledore smiled and walked to the back of the office.
Hermione found it strange that he would be so calm when death was literally knocking obnoxiously at the door.
Harry and Ron gave each other looks and followed him, fascinated by how purposeful his strides were. Snape followed with Malfoy in his arms, and his strides were just as purposeful, if not a little gentler for Malfoy’s sake. Hermione followed a little more cautiously, a little perturbed by Dumbledor’s behavior. Something told her that Harry, Ron, and her had been left out of another secret.
As they reached their destination, the trio watched in wonder as Dumbledore stared pensively at his books. Hermione had always wondered why the books in the middle shelf always looked brand new despite the fact that the Headmaster claims that they were all old editions. She once asked if she could borrow one, because she had run out of reading material in the library, and Dumbledore refused her for the first time. The trio stared at him skeptically as Dumbledore rapidly and deftly seemed to pull out random books from the shelf. While he was working, the front door was still holding up, but the frequency of the Death Eater attacks were increasing, and the door sounded like it was aching and weary. Hermione cast yet another protective spell on the door, even though it was an unnecessary precaution, and turned back to what Dumbledore was doing. After just a couple of seconds, the missing books formed an arch pattern in the shelf. He then turned to Fawkes and gently whispered to him. The bird seemed to understand and flew off of Dumbledore’s arm towards the bookcase, stopping when he reached the arch. The Phoenix opened its wings and immediately started singing a haunting melody.
“Is he mourning?” Hermione asked Harry, trying to figure out what was going on. She had never heard of this type of ritual before, and she was beginning to wonder if Dumbledore was taking some sort of risk they couldn’t afford to take.
“No,” he answered as he wiped some grime off of his glasses. He was curious, but he wasn’t as troubled as Hermione “The melody is dark, but it’s not mourning. It seems to be summoning something.”
“Well, it bloody hell better be an army,” grumbled Ron, his mood getting sourer as his hand became larger.
Snape perceived this, rolled his eyes, adjusted Malfoy in his arms, and swished his hand at Ron, healing the swelling. He then adjusted his robes and said, “Perhaps you should have paid attention to all of those hospital visits you’ve procured for yourself over the years, Mr. Weasley.”
Ron scoffed indignantly but didn’t answer back, grateful that Snape had healed his hand.
Hermione couldn’t help but smile at that, because once again, some more powerful being was giving her a last taste of the people she loved before she had to suffer. Harry, who was watching her, knew exactly what she was thinking and leaned over to squeeze her hand. Hermione smiled briefly before noticing a blinding glow coming from the bookshelf. The light was ethereal blue, and Hermione thought that maybe Dumbledore had opened a veil of some sort. It must be, because the only light she remembered looking this haunting was the one in the Department of Mysteries two years ago. Was he allowing them a painless flow into the afterlife?
Before Hermione could examine the door, Ron bravely walked forward. At one point, he looked like he was about to poke it, but thought better of it and took his hand back. Dumbledore smiled at his behavior before his demeanor turned serious again. He looked at all of us sadly and then looked pensively at the door, it’s bangs becoming louder still, before starting. “It would appear that we are at a loss,” he started and cleared his throat, the scratchiness of it coming from the strain of battle. “We have been betrayed, and we should not feel any hostility, any spitefulness towards him despite what he has done to us. The Lovegoods are a wonderful family and he was being threatened with his daughter.” Despite what Dumbledore said, Harry and Ron’s fist clenched at the mentioning of Mr. Lovegood. Hermione thought he was still a good man, and he did all that he did without knowing Luna was dead. Dumbledore pretended not to notice their reactions and adjusted his glasses. “Therefore,” he continued. “I have given us a safety net, hoping that the fate of the world can change.” He smiled half-heartedly. “Maybe I am just being a fool. Maybe I do have high hopes; but that is exactly why we are different from them. We do not give up on the world. We believe that people have the will to fight evil.” The door began shaking erratically; it’s hinges whining as the wards were being taken down. Dumbledore’s smile vanished. “We have five minutes for all of you to make a decision.”
Harry frowned, stepping forward. “So you’re not coming with us, wherever we’re going?”
Dumbledore shook his head regretfully, knowing Harry was angry with him for keeping him in the dark again. “I’m afraid not Harry.”
“But”“
“Hush Harry. We don’t have time,” Hermione said impatiently, secretly not wanting Harry to be mad at the man who has looked out for him for years.
Dumbledore’s expression became tearful as he clasped his hands together, a gesture he usually does before asking people to do something dangerous for him. Hermione held her breath as the Headmaster continued. “Harry, Ron, Hermione, Draco, and Severus. All of you need to make a choice to go back in time.” He watched as their expressions turned blank and continued before they had time to question. “This door will lead you to a place in time where Tom Riddle’s life was treading a very thin line. It will lead you back to his seventh year at Hogwarts, back when he made many of the critical choices in his life.” He passed his hand over the portal, and the blue turned into bright orange, activating the portal. “You five have a choice. You can go back and possibly never make it to the present again, or you can stay, and we all die noble deaths. Both decisions are honorable, and both are difficult paths, but one could possibly save the world.”
It was then that Draco decided to speak up, and though his voice was a little faint, it didn’t take away from the incredulousness. “So, you want us to die or live in a different time and change events that could possible backfire. You really are an old crackpot.”
At that comment, Ron made to leap for him, but Harry dragged Ron to the door, knowing that Ron was his best mate and that he would be there no matter what he chose. Harry took a deep breath, his decision made, and said, “I’m willing to go back.”
Ron looked at the door and shuddered. “It won’t hurt will it?”
Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled. “No, Mr. Weasley, it will not.”
Ron nodded and punched Harry lightly in the arm, careful not to upset his bruises. Harry smiled at him and rubbed his arm despite Ron’s gentleness. Ron then looked at Dumbledore square in the face and said, “Alright then, I’m in.” He turned to Hermione, knowing her answer but asking anyway. “You coming?”
Hermione rolled her eyes and walked briskly towards them. She smiled at both the boys, and she knew that even though they could be making the wrong choice and nothing would ever come out of it, they would be wrong together. She then turned to Ron and replied, “Of course Ronald. Who else is going to do all the research?”
Hermione then turned to face Snape and Draco, two people she had loathed over her seven years at Hogwarts, and for some reason, she couldn’t help but feel that they would all be alright. “What about you two?” she asked.
“Hell n”“
“Yes, Granger, we’re coming too. I have a mission to do anyway.” Snape answered, cutting Malfoy off.
Dumbledore’s twinkle grew brighter despite the circumstances. His manner became brisk as the door started cracking. “I have been planning this for many years. All five of you will need to find me when you arrive. You cannot let anyone see any of you until then. When you meet me, tell me too look in the drawer.”
“But what”“
“No questions Potter,” Snape snarled before pushing Harry through the door unceremoniously.
“You bloody bastard!” Ron yelled before rushing through after him.
Hermione sighed and followed.
Snape threw Malfoy through as well (Malfoy cursing like a sailor until he fully crossed over) before turning to Dumbledore. “What if this plan doesn’t work? What will happen to you?”
“Nothing unnatural Severus. I will die. It’s just part of the cycle,” he replied before patting him on the shoulder. Dumbledore then ducked from a curse sent through the door, the wards finally broken. “Remember you mission, Severus,” he quickly reminded before dodging another curse.
Severus nodded, turned his back on the old man, and walked through the door.
A Field of Flowers by flirtytype214
Story Notes:
This story is close to my heart. Enjoy!
Chapter Endnotes: Thank you so very much for reading!