Losing Her
By MadamePince
Prologue
"Please, don't hurt them! Please!"
"Crucio!"
Tortured screams filled the air. A pair of eyes closed and a heartbeat sped up. Please, let them stop... let them stop...
Then the screams ceased. And just when they thought it was over...
"Avada Kedavra!"
Harry Potter paced his small bedroom nervously. There had been an attack and no one would tell him what happened. A bird flew past the window and Harry jumped. It did not come back. Harry resumed his pacing.
A knock came on Harry's door.
No one ever knocked on his door.
He opened it. Aunt Petunia silently handed him a letter. The familiar handwriting on the front told him it was from Lupin.
Dear Harry,
I didn't want to be the one to tell you this, but the Death Eaters' attack fell on the Grangers.
Hermione is dead, Harry.
Harry dropped the letter. Hermione was dead? This couldn't be right... couldn't be. She was alive and safe in her house. He scribbled a letter on a piece of parchment.
Hermione,
They've just told me you're dead. You're not dead, you're alive. Aren't you? You can't be dead. You can't be! Write me back as soon as you get this and tell me you're not dead!
Harry
He knew it would be no use sending it if she really was... but no, she couldn't be. He read the rest of Lupin's letter.
She tried to save her parents, but failed. The Death Eaters tortured her parents and then killed her and her parents, destroying the house.
My guess is, Harry, that they killed Hermione to weaken you. They know how close you are to her and Ron. I have told the Weasleys they should go into hiding. They agreed it would be best, but Percy doesn't want to. He claims he has a duty to the Ministry and so does his father.
Harry, you have to be on alert. You MUST NOT leave your aunt's house. Do you understand? Stay in your room, no matter what. You'll be safe there. Don't let your aunt leave the house.
Keep your chin up, Harry. That's the way Hermione would have wanted it.
Remus Lupin
Harry set the letter down and gripped his hair in frustration. Hermione, Hermione Granger, his best friend, was dead. This had to be a dream. Had to be.
He looked at the picture sitting on his desk that Colin had taken of him and Hermione the previous year. They were sitting in the Great Hall, and they were laughing. Suddenly Harry ran to the bathroom and threw up. He felt horrible. This could not be happening. He looked around the bathroom. His gaze landed on Uncle Vernon's razor. Before he could think, before he could stop himself, he'd already done it. Blood began to flow from his arm like Georgia red clay in a rainstorm. It seeped into his clothes, now stained with grief and loss as well as blood. He lay his head against the bathroom door and let the blood flow, letting go of his emotions and drifting away...
...and then he was back. He realized what he'd done and began cleaning the cut. He wrapped bandages around it and washed the blood off his stomach that had soaked through his shirt. He slipped back into his room and stashed the bloodstained clothes under his bed, and put on new ones, making sure to hide the bandage. He lay down on his bed and looked up at the ceiling. He sighed and looked over at the picture of Hermione. A single tear slipped from his eye and trailed down his face as he looked at the photograph of his dead best friend.