Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean, nor do I own Harry Potter. I only own the plot of this story.
A/N: Hello! II hope you all enjoy! Let me know in a review or by liking my story ♥81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1AvkRSB8sI
Hermione darted aside as a jet of sickly green light shot past her—a Killing Curse, unmistakable in the chaos of the battlefield. Spells blasted and screams echoed around her, but she barely noticed as she dropped to the ground. Ash and debris whipped through the air, stinging her eyes and coating her robes in grime. Her heart hammered, and adrenaline surged, driving her to her feet despite her fear. Smoke filled her mouth with every breath, each inhalation harsh with the acrid tang of burning stone and scorched earth.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIqXLyDsWes
She charged through the smoke and ash without a moment’s hesitation, dodging bodies and debris strewn across the ground—her boots slipping on flagstones slick with blood and rain. Chaos reigned on the battlefield: flashes of spell fire illuminated contorted faces, shouts of resistance mingled with screams of pain, and the sharp scent of magic filled the air. Desperation drove her straight towards the heart of the fight, where Harry and Lord Voldemort stood locked in their final duel, wands raised in deadly confrontation.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdRAF4dqUbM
They stood atop a tall hill that overlooked the school where Hermione had spent seven years of her life. From this vantage point, the devastation revealed itself painfully: Hogwarts lay ruined below, its once majestic towers reduced to burning rubble. Flames devoured the broken stones, casting an orange glow against the dark sky, as if hellfire clawed its way into the night. Thick smoke billowed in choking columns, obscuring the stars and streaking the sky with grey and crimson. The lake, which once peacefully mirrored the castle’s spires, now reflected the raging fire and drifting embers. The flames silhouetted the trees of the Forbidden Forest at the edge of the chaos, making their branches shudder as they recoiled from the destruction. Tattered banners fluttered limply from shattered battlements, while cries, the clatter of falling stones, and the distant collapse of walls echoed mournfully across the grounds. Craters, scorch marks, broken wood, and shards of glass scarred the area, serving as a stark reminder of the violence that had swept through.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkDagF5iCvQ
Hermione stumbled towards them, her steps faltering as a wave of dread seized her. The battlefield froze, every crackle of flames and distant shout fading as Hermione concentrated on the horrifying scene before her. Fear gripped Hermione, cold and paralysing, when Voldemort raised his wand and fixed his burning, hate-filled eyes on Harry. The tip of his wand glowed ominously; at that moment, a radiant green aura erupted around him—an infernal glow flooding the air with a sickly, unnatural light. Dark magic swirled and twisted above the scorched ground, shimmering and pulsing, warping the shadows around Voldemort as its caster.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvbPXRu5Buo
Hermione watched in horror as her heart skipped a beat, paralysed by fear. Blood rushed in her ears, muffling the sounds of the battle and making time crawl. Voldemort cast his spell with a sharp, final note that sliced through the smoke and chaos. Despite the onslaught, Harry held his ground amid the wreckage. He stumbled but did not fall, gripping his wand tightly. His steady stance and the fierce determination in his expression showed how resolutely he resisted the darkness confronting him.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPm1nNl2qSe
For a moment, deadly green light surrounded Harry, ready to overwhelm him. Then, as if an invisible shield protected him, the magic trembled and retreated—a burst of energy crackled through the air. The lethal light ricocheted violently, turning back and striking Voldemort square in the chest. The green explosion sent shockwaves across the battlefield, unleashing and redirecting the curse’s power. Its brightness cast Voldemort’s features in a ghostly glow as his own dark magic consumed him. Hermione watched, breath caught in her throat, as she witnessed the impossible: the Dark Lord fell, struck down by the very magic he had used in his final act of vengeance.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡb1r15ra4dE
Hermione slowly lowered her wand and kept her gaze fixed on the scene as the Dark Lord collapsed onto the scorched ground. The threatening green glow faded from around him, leaving behind only the smouldering remains of his cloak. Smoke curled upwards, a stark reminder of the curse’s power and finality. For a moment, silence settled over the battlefield, interrupted only by the crackling of flames and distant cries. The ground where he fell seemed to recoil, with blackened, smoking grass marking the spot.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyNJgvfk9Ty
Exhaustion overcame Harry, making him stagger and lose his balance. Adrenaline and broken resolve weighed down his legs, and with one final, shaky effort, he collapsed onto the ground. The painfully hot earth burned him through his torn robes, littered with shards of broken stone and charred wood. Ash plumes rose like ghosts around him, settling in his hair and sticking to his sweat-slicked skin. He scraped his hands on the gritty surface, which left them blackened and raw. For a moment, he lay still, struggling to breathe as his chest heaved, the sounds of the distant battlefield muffled by a ringing in his ears. Each muscle protested, the intense strain making him feel fragile and empty, as though a strong wind could blow him apart. The world spun around him in a smoky haze with flickering orange light, and exhaustion finally forced him to surrender.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpKxPEGGNl7
Hermione watched him fall and panic overwhelmed her. Her heart pounded as she dashed towards him, each beat intensifying her worry. Her legs dragged painfully, as if she waded through thick syrup, and desperation seemed to slow the world around her. The clamour of battle faded into a dull hum, drowned out by her urgent need to reach her friend. Time stretched, each agonising second laden with dread as she navigated through the smoke, stumbled over scorched debris, and instinctively dodged spells flying overhead. She barely registered the ash stinging her eyes or the burning in her lungs—she fixed all her attention on Harry, helpless on the shattered ground. The terror that she might arrive too late drove her forward, compelling her on with every desperate stride.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ53WLVRQdbQ
As the echoes of battle faded, Hermione saw that the fighting had stopped. Death Eaters around her froze with shock, staring at their fallen master. Voldemort's fall stunned them, and the reality of defeat slowly took hold. Some recognised the futility of further resistance and surrendered, dropping their wands. Others made desperate or naive attempts to escape, but Aurors and Order members quickly stopped them with spells. The once fierce fighters now seemed diminished; uncertainty and fear marked their faces, as if losing their leader had drained their spirit. The dying fires cast shadows on the Death Eaters’ faces while the consequences of their choices weighed on them with finality. Wands hit the ground—some trembled, others showed defiance—but all were lost in the wake of Voldemort’s death. Only the rustling of robes and the faint crackle of flames broke the quiet, signalling the end of an era and the uncertain start of something new.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2h4qDPvjXV
Aurors and Order of the Phoenix members swiftly surrounded the remaining Death Eaters, their wands raised and their bodies tense in the aftermath of battle. They actively herded those who surrendered into a designated zone, which magical wards and glowing borders clearly marked. Fierce-looking Ministry officials and grim-faced Aurors kept a vigilant watch, ready to bind and transport prisoners directly to the Ministry of Magic. Ultimately, they planned to send the captives to Azkaban, the notorious fortress etched in everyone's memory. The authorities denied trial to some Death Eaters, sealing their fates because of the severity of their crimes.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjiQADZikpt
Meanwhile, other Aurors and Order members moved purposefully across the devastated battlefield. They quietly and efficiently tended to the wounded, conjuring stretchers and applying healing spells. Pain and hope mingled in the air, accompanied by the hum of spells, as they set up makeshift triage centres beside ruined walls and broken statues. Some knelt by fallen comrades, carefully covering the dead with scraps of cloaks or blankets—gestures that showed reverence and sorrow. The aftermath starkly reminded everyone of the conflict’s toll, with scorch marks scarring the ground and broken wands, torn banners, and shattered hopes scattered everywhere. Yet, even as grief and loss weighed heavily, survivors began to nurture a faint hope—suggesting that the long night was ending and, with the dawn’s first light, a fragile hope for peace was emerging from the ruins.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXlMZflFGLS
Hermione forced her swirling thoughts aside and focused on Harry’s condition. She hurried to his side and dropped to her knees, her urgency obvious. The harsh ground burned through her robes, but she barely registered it—her entire attention remained on Harry. She grasped his hand, feeling the unsettling coldness and clamminess of his skin. When she saw his pale face, streaked with ash and sweat, panic surged within her and her breath caught as she searched for any sign of life. Gripping his hand tightly, her knuckles whitening with worry, she desperately hoped he would respond. For a tense moment, he remained still, his eyelids fluttered but closed, and dread filled Hermione’s mind. Then, slowly, Harry opened his eyes, their emerald depths flickering with exhaustion but unmistakably alive. As his chest rose in a shaky breath, Hermione found hope, and relief rushed through her, her heart pounding with gratitude that he was still fighting and remained with her after the chaos.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7Hl9xFHLGs
Harry gave Hermione a tired smile, his emerald eyes flickering in the firelight and reflecting the destruction around them. He spoke quietly and hoarsely, his exhaustion and the toll of the ordeal clear in his voice. ‘We did it,’ he said softly, his words barely rising above the crackling of burning debris. The final duel’s intense chaos—dodging curses and spells fired with lethal intent—had completely exhausted him, leaving every muscle sore from the relentless fight.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZYxSFSl4zJ
Hermione widened her eyes in amazement as she noticed the change in Harry’s scar. Only hours before, it had appeared raw and inflamed—almost like a fresh cut. Now, just a thin, faintly jagged line remained on his forehead. The redness had vanished completely, leaving only the slightest trace of the mark that had symbolised years of pain and struggle. Hermione couldn’t contain her relief; she smiled softly and gently traced the line with her finger.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIKB9ozZMDK
Hermione whispered, her voice thick with emotion, ‘You did, Harry. You saved us all.’ She gently reached out and affectionately ruffled his hair, her fingers brushing through the soot and ash tangled in his unruly hair.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡedIUlDIWMX
Harry shut his eyes and savoured the freedom he felt. The battle’s heavy burden seemed to lift from his mind and body for a moment. He embraced this short respite, breathing steadily while the stress of conflict—which had always weighed him down—momentarily eased.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgtAQIqkL8X
As the initial wave of relief faded, Harry’s mind shifted. He furrowed his brow and worry lines appeared as he looked at Hermione, his expression openly concerned. Even though the immediate threat had passed, a new doubt troubled him. ‘Where’s Ron?’ he asked, his voice tense with worry. Harry scanned the area from his position on the ground, searching for any sign of his red-haired best friend. Ron’s absence, especially at such a critical moment, unsettled him deeply. Wounded and fleeing figures cast fleeting shadows that tricked Harry’s eyes, so every glimpse of ginger hair or a familiar silhouette sparked a flicker of hope that quickly vanished. The broken landscape—strewn with debris and illuminated sporadically by healing spells—gave him little clarity, and a cold dread grew inside him.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvIneTcdYbx
Hermione shook her head and steadied Harry as he tried to stand, supporting him firmly when exhaustion made his legs give way. She gripped his sleeve to keep him upright, refusing to let him fall. The ground radiated heat beneath them, smoke and the sharp scent of burnt spells filled the air, and everywhere they looked, battle debris—twisted metal, broken stone, and fading enchantments—created a haunting scene bathed in the orange light of distant fires.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXzHXZX5KZo
Hermione admitted, her voice trembling with anxiety, ‘I don’t know where he is,’ as she scanned the scattered groups of survivors down the slope. She quickly searched each cluster for the familiar flash of ginger hair or a recognisable silhouette that would reveal Ron’s presence. ‘I’m surprised he hasn’t come to find us yet,’ she said, her worry growing with every passing moment. The thought that Ron might be lost or hurt in the chaos made her shiver and added a brittle edge to her voice. Hermione instinctively clenched her hands on Harry’s sleeve, her knuckles turning white as she struggled to maintain her composure amid the rising tide of worry.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAQIO20H688
Hermione, determined to support Harry, steadied him with her hand beneath his arm and guided him carefully down the hill. Fatigue made his steps uncertain, but she adjusted her grip and helped him navigate the uneven, debris-strewn ground. She scanned the battlefield constantly, desperately searching for Ron amidst the chaos.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNU2e8kAJ0e
Harry looked around, concern etched on his face and his voice soft with worry. ‘He must be somewhere. I hope he isn’t hurt,’ he said quietly, feeling the weight of uncertainty. The crackling flames and faint cries of those tending to the wounded nearly drowned out his words, but Hermione heard every word as if it echoed in the quiet moments between their heartbeats.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡShQKvzPBj7
Hermione nodded as she met his gaze, showing her concern on her face. Tears glistened in her eyes while the firelight’s orange glow accentuated the shadows beneath them. She pressed her lips together, took a shaky breath to steady herself, and gripped Harry’s sleeve more tightly.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGcoK6hFM6X
Suddenly, shouts erupted from behind and pierced the tense silence that had briefly settled over the scarred battlefield. Harry and Hermione spun around, alert and suspicious, just in time to witness two determined Aurors forcibly restraining Lucius Malfoy. Dirt and ash streaked his platinum-blond hair, and his refined robes hung torn and filthy on him, a stark contrast to his usual immaculate appearance. The exhausted, battle-worn Aurors held Lucius tightly, but he struggled violently, rage, shame, and disbelief twisting his face. He shouted protests and threats, his voice hoarse yet defiant, refusing to accept defeat so soon after everything that had happened.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBezsNlJ2cE
The Aurors quickly acted, gripping Lucius firmly by the arms and pinning his wand arm to his side. Their clenched jaws and practised, decisive movements made their determination unmistakable, allowing Lucius no chance to resist. They exchanged a brief nod and, without hesitation, prepared to Disapparate, keeping a tight hold on Lucius as he continued to struggle. In an instant, the trio vanished with a sharp crack, sending a ripple of unsettled magic across the battered ground. Lucius’s angry protests echoed into the night, haunting the devastated grounds before fading gradually into silence—an absence almost as unsettling as the chaos itself. The tense quiet settled once more, disturbed only by the distant, hollow sounds from the castle’s ruined halls and the soft wind stirring the debris.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9aSPNfJQ8Z
Harry and Hermione exchanged glances, their eyes shining with a rare sense of victory amid the destruction. Tired smiles spread across their faces as they silently acknowledged that they had banished another shadow from their world. Hermione gave a casual shrug—her gesture concealing the relief in her eyes—and she gripped Harry’s arm more firmly, her steady presence offering reassurance. Together, they navigated the damaged, smouldering terrain, stepping over broken stone and charred earth as they made their way toward the dark outline of the castle.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZMlPOvniRT
Harry and Hermione pressed towards the castle, determined to find Ron. Towering, broken stone walls loomed overhead, outlined against an orange sky ablaze with distant fires. Ancient turrets cast haunting, elongated shadows over the smouldering ruins. The sharp smell of seared earth and the haunting cries from the castle’s wreckage overwhelmed Harry’s senses, making him catch his breath. Hermione gripped his arm firmly, her nerves taut as they made their way through the debris and scorched grass, hearts racing with hope and fear.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJCvaeupztt
A familiar voice suddenly interrupted and brought them to an abrupt halt. The speaker’s tone rang out—clear and strong, filled with both warmth and authority. They turned in surprise and found themselves facing a man—an astonishing presence. He stood before them, apparently untouched, as though none of the tragic events from the past year had ever affected him. Moonlight caught his flowing silver beard and made his blue eyes sparkle behind his half-moon spectacles. Although his robes appeared a little dishevelled, they still looked elegant, and he radiated an aura of calm wisdom that seemed strangely out of place among the wreckage. For a heartbeat, time froze: Harry and Hermione stared in shock, hearts pounding, as they gradually accepted the reality of Albus Dumbledore’s return, hope and wonder flickering behind their exhaustion and concern.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMZzEWLgt2G
A warm smile spread across the old wizard’s face and a familiar twinkle sparkled in his blue eyes behind his half-moon spectacles. With gentle amusement, he regarded Harry and Hermione, his lips curling into a comforting, almost grandfatherly smile as he took in their wide-eyed wonder and shocked expressions. ‘I suppose you are wondering why and how I came to be here?’ he asked softly, his voice light and cheerful, trying to ease their worries, his words as soothing as the gentle breeze stirring the ash at their feet.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWtC1KHXyBy
Dumbledore continued, offering a gentle, almost playful shrug. ‘That's something I don’t fully understand myself. One moment, I was at peace, and the next, I found myself in a battle without my wand.’ As he spoke, bewilderment and the mystery of his return briefly clouded his eyes. The moonlight illuminated the fine lines on his face and the silver in his beard, lending him a ghostly grace—as if he existed between the world of the living and the calm he described. The peace he remembered stood in stark contrast to the chaos that now surrounded them, making his presence feel both miraculous and fragile.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzTiwoa3JEW
Dumbledore’s presence stunned the teenagers, leaving them overwhelmed by the sight before them. The moonlit chaos seemed to blur the boundary between possible and impossible, shifting their world. Harry could only utter incoherent words, shocked and unable to think clearly as old memories and emotions crashed together in his mind. He kept his hands limp at his sides, jaw slack and knuckles white, struggling to comprehend how the man they had mourned now stood before them, whole and alive.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEsd19wPTX8
For the first time in her life, Hermione found herself speechless—her thoughts tangled and her mouth refusing to form words. She parted her lips in silence, struggling and failing to voice the torrent of questions and relief surging within.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHl4qj5X0mB
Harry regained his composure before Hermione and took a hesitant step forward, his trainers softly crunching on the gravel and scattered debris underfoot. Disbelief and exhaustion weighed down his limbs, but a wave of determination propelled him towards the old wizard. He almost lost his balance on a loose stone but managed to catch himself just in time. Then, without hesitation, he wrapped Dumbledore in a spontaneous, fierce hug. The faint scent of parchment and lemon drops clung to the wizard’s worn robes, grounding Harry in a torrent of memories that felt both bittersweet and comforting. A genuine, radiant smile broke through his surprise, lighting up his tear-bright eyes and the grime-streaked contours of his face. ‘It’s good to see you, Professor Dumbledore,’ Harry said, his voice thick with emotion as he let go, his hands trembling slightly from the overwhelming relief and happiness that washed away his lingering fear.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡU3i9jAlQ6Q
Hermione briefly hesitated, still struggling to accept that Dumbledore had returned, her chest tightening as emotions surged. She took a cautious step forward, following Harry’s lead, moving slowly and tentatively as though she feared the vision before her might dissolve into smoke. With trembling arms, she gently embraced their former headmaster, pressing her cheek to the soft, silver folds of his beard. For a moment, she closed her eyes and savoured the sensation—the warmth of Dumbledore’s robes, the subtle scent of lemon drops and parchment, and the steady, reassuring beat of his heart. Words escaped her, but a small, sincere smile spread across her face, her eyes shining with relief and gratitude. Disbelief over Dumbledore’s presence raced through her mind, her thoughts tumbling over each other. Yet, as she held him, she let that disbelief melt away, allowing a profound sense of comfort and safety to settle over her. In that brief embrace, Hermione drew solace from the night’s sorrow and exhaustion—a quiet reassurance that hope, somehow, had returned to their fractured world.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzh8lwV96LB
Dumbledore gazed warmly at the two surprised teenagers, his eyes sparkling even in the moonlit disarray. The gentle light in his gaze reflected decades of wisdom and kindness. He slightly tilted his head, letting that familiar twinkle shine behind his spectacles—a glint of old secrets and quiet joy that Harry and Hermione immediately recognised. Moonbeams softly illuminated his silver beard, making it shimmer as he smiled, the corners of his lips curling in that reassuring, grandfatherly way that always inspired confidence in his students. ‘Yes, yes, it is good to be back,’ he said, his voice rich with emotion, filling the air among the ruined stones and lingering ash.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbte3ADoBXm
Hermione finally broke her silence, her voice trembling with doubt. She looked up at Dumbledore, confusion clouding her face. ‘How…?’ she started, unable to finish her question. She gripped the sleeve of her burned jumper, her knuckles turning white, as though grounding herself through the physical sensation in this impossible moment. ‘Harry saw you die, Professor...’ she whispered, her voice breaking with emotion.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsRzdM5N70w
Dumbledore gently shook his head, uncertainty clear in his expression. He admitted softly but honestly, ‘I do not know what brought me back.’ The strange circumstances of his return unsettled him, yet he chose not to dwell on them. Instead, he hardened his gaze slightly and shifted the topic, speaking in a steadier, yet still comforting tone, ‘There are more urgent matters to address,’ and subtly redirected their attention away from himself.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrIgkDixVuu
Harry flicked his emerald eyes between the headmaster and Hermione, a deep frown settling on his forehead as concern competed with confusion. ‘Professor?’ he asked, his tone uncertain.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlW6oWvqkPC
Dumbledore’s face turned subtly sombre, a trace of sorrow shadowing his features as he spoke. He seemed to carry the burden of all that had been lost on his shoulders, and for a moment, quiet grief subdued the familiar sparkle in his eyes. ‘When I arrived, I stumbled over Mr. Weasley. He is alive in the Hospital Wing,’ he said, his voice expressing both relief and the weight of recent events. Dumbledore let his gaze drift, as if recalling the painful sight: he had found the damaged corridor leading to the Medical Ward, strewn with broken beams and scattered glass, the air thick with dust and carrying the lingering scent of antiseptic mixed with smoke. He paused briefly, his eyes reflecting the destruction that scarred every stone of Hogwarts, then softly added, ‘Or what remains of the Hospital Wing.’ His words hung heavily in the air, acknowledging the ruin that had turned the once-hallowed space into a makeshift refuge, its fractured walls and displaced beds bearing witness to the collapse.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXTzIgpMNb3
Dumbledore refocused on the worried faces before him and addressed Harry directly. ‘Harry, could you check on him? Poppy has assessed his condition and treated his wounds, so he's likely asleep,’ he asked. While he spoke, Dumbledore kept his eyes fixed on Harry, offering a blend of understanding and encouragement.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbO10kRiKFf
Harry furrowed his brow in confusion, keeping his eyes fixed on the old headmaster, searching his wise, weathered gaze for even a hint of explanation that usually offered guidance, but he found only calm determination. The nagging question about why Dumbledore hadn’t included Hermione in the request to check on Ron unsettled him, stirring a deep sense of unease.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfAnfMsg6pS
Harry shook off his uncertainty and nodded, choosing to accept Dumbledore’s decision despite his own doubts. With a voice still tinged with anxiety but strengthened by new resolve, he said, ‘Yes, I’ll go there now,’ and braced himself for the responsibility ahead. He turned to Hermione, gently but firmly taking her hand. ‘Come on, ‘Mione,’ he whispered, using the affectionate nickname to offer her reassurance and calm as they prepared themselves to see Ron.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJ8VlFeIRQL
Just as they were about to leave together, Dumbledore gently but firmly placed his hand on Harry’s shoulder, stopping him mid-step. Confused, Harry glanced at Hermione for help, trying to understand Dumbledore’s unexpected gesture.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNpZRjlRWDX
Harry swallowed hard and spoke with a trembling voice, his uncertainty evident. ‘Professor?’ he asked, the single word revealing his unease.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmh23mo2ibh
Dumbledore faced Harry slowly, meeting him with gentle blue eyes that radiated quiet determination. He offered Harry a look filled with soft warmth, which stood in sharp contrast to the destruction surrounding them, as though he was trying to protect Harry from further pain. He said softly but firmly, ‘I need Miss Granger’s help, Harry,’ using a tone that made it clear he would not accept disagreement. He spoke with careful deliberation. ‘I will ensure she joins you both right after I speak with her.’ Dumbledore’s voice carried clear reassurance, letting Harry know that Hermione would only be away briefly and would soon be back with him again.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYcGvQzLdWz
Harry quietly nodded, pushing aside the whirlwind of questions in his mind as he accepted Dumbledore’s explanation—a maturity hard-won by adversity guiding his actions. He turned to Hermione and gave her a brief, comforting hug, his expression softening. Holding the moment for just a little longer, Harry tightened his arms as if to capture the sense of safety, then gradually released her. He stepped back, cast Hermione a final glance, and moved down the corridor.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaXV9yMxrwv
Uncertain but determined, Harry picked his way towards the rubble that had once been the Great Hall of Hogwarts. The vast chamber, formerly alive with feasts and ceremonies beneath its enchanted ceiling, now stood in ruins. Shattered stonework thrust broken beams at odd angles, and large marble slabs lay cracked and piled haphazardly. Shards of stained glass from the tall windows caught the flickering torchlight, scattering fractured rainbows across the dust-laden debris. The collapse of Ravenclaw Tower had battered the walls, flinging banners and scorched wood throughout the hall. Fallen arches partially buried remnants of tables and benches, their surfaces worn and splintered. The faint scent of smoke mingled with dust and plaster, and only the distant sounds of shifting rubble and muffled cries elsewhere in the castle broke the silence.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYTEyhwVRcJ
Hermione frowned and anxiously watched Harry as he climbed the fallen stone heap that had once formed part of the castle wall. With each hesitant movement, her worry grew; the jagged edges of broken masonry stood out in the dim light. Her heart raced when Harry’s silhouette wobbled briefly on the rubble, and his robes snagged on a protruding beam before he regained his balance and vanished into the ruined corridors of Hogwarts.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFYDYIOtbks
Hermione shifted her focus back to Dumbledore, who waited nearby. Hermione straightened her shoulders, drew strength from Dumbledore’s composure, and braced herself for whatever might come next. She asked softly, ‘You want to speak with me?’ Her voice, a mix of worry and curiosity. 81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡl5OCmx2el7
Dumbledore nodded, his eyes reflecting understanding and gentle encouragement. ‘Correct, Miss Granger. Please follow me,’ he said calmly leading her into the castle. 81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjJ9jpN4D53
The familiar corridors and rooms of Hogwarts now appeared almost unrecognisable, their destruction stark and overwhelming. She let her gaze wander over the shattered walls and collapsed ceilings, struggling for words at the sheer extent of the damage. Fragments of stone and splintered wood covered the flagstone floors, mingling with torn banners and scraps of house colours. Dust swirled through the shafts of pale moonlight that streamed in from the gaping holes in the roof, filling the air. With every step, she stirred up fine debris that had settled from above, while the once-bright tapestries hung askew, scorched and tattered from the recent chaos. The acrid odour of smoke and the musty scent of old masonry permeated the corridor, fusing with the deep sense of loss that seemed to seep from the very walls. Hermione’s heart clenched when she spotted the battered remains of a suit of armour—its dented breastplate and helmet lay half-buried under rubble nearby. Where laughter and bustling students once filled the air, silence now prevailed, broken only by the occasional groan of shifting stones or the flutter of a charred curtain. The grandeur of Hogwarts had given way to haunting desolation, with each ruined archway and broken stairway displaying the hardship endured within its ancient halls.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8ZK6Iq3iXL
Dumbledore, noticing Hermione’s distress, raised an eyebrow, deliberately exaggerating his assessment of the ruins as he examined the damaged surroundings, then met Hermione’s worried gaze. His blue eyes sparkled conspiratorially as he tried to lift her spirits, adopting a playful tone in his voice. ‘Well, I always did want to refurbish the place. Make it a little more upbeat, if you will,’ he said, gesturing vaguely at the collapsed walls and torn banners as though they were simply outdated decor in need of modernising. The absurdity of his suggestion amid such devastation lightened the mood a little. Hermione let out a faint, genuine laugh—shaky but real—and for a moment, the heavy weight of grief and destruction eased.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNl39a3piUd
Hermione climbed the cracked marble staircase behind Dumbledore, slowing their progress as they navigated the castle’s visible damage. Each step sent the sound of splintering stone echoing around them, while dust swirled in the flickering torchlight. Deep fissures and jagged breaks now scarred the once-impressive staircase, which had boasted sweeping curves and shiny balustrades. Pieces of marble had ripped away, leaving dangerous gaps that could easily trip anyone who wasn’t careful.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBjeYpfeSMm
When they arrived at the place where the moving staircase once stood, they immediately witnessed the destruction. Exposed and twisted, the complex mechanisms that used to let the staircases shift and reconfigure across the castle now lay broken, their magic seemingly vanished. The staircases no longer moved; many had collapsed into the depths below, leaving only unstable ledges and scattered debris. An eerie silence filled the space that once thrummed with movement. Only a few staircases remained intact, either conveniently placed for their route or stranded in the middle, out of reach.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0i1FYYjjhv
Dumbledore examined the scene, then raised his wand and directed it at the staircases in an effort to restore their function. He recited complex spells, making deliberate, sweeping flicks with his wand as faint sparks and shimmering wisps of magic circled the twisted mechanisms. Even with his considerable skill, he could not overcome the irreparable damage to the ancient enchantments powering the staircases; the gears jammed and the stonework stayed stubbornly still. Once brimming with magical energy and constant motion, the staircases now remained silent and unmoving, their balustrades cracked and their steps blanketed in dust. Dumbledore let out a resigned sigh, his shoulders sinking, and he signalled for Hermione to use an alternative route.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaHbExAUuWq
Hermione and Dumbledore abandoned the ruined staircases and instead navigated the castle’s secret passageways. They slipped behind a battered tapestry, entered a hidden doorway, and crept into the narrow, winding corridors that twisted between the castle’s walls. Cool, dense air filled the passages, carrying the scent of stone and ancient secrets, while their footsteps echoed quietly on the flagstones. The passages twisted and turned; in some places, Hermione had to walk sideways through the tight spaces, while in others, they descended steeply or led into shadowy alcoves. Dumbledore’s wand cast flickering light, revealing old carvings and faded murals on the walls, shimmering cobwebs, and the occasional glint of concealed door handles. Navigating this maze of corridors significantly delayed their journey, the sense of urgency subdued by the eerie silence and the palpable presence of history surrounding them.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡULW9wPxObE
Dumbledore and Hermione overcame numerous obstacles on their journey—many of which Peeves mischievously caused—and finally reached the entrance to the Headmaster’s office. They found the once-grand Gargoyle statue guarding the door scarred by recent chaos. Cracks and chips marred its granite surface, and it clutched a broken wing protectively in its stony grip. The Gargoyle’s stern face twisted in pain, its mouth set in a silent snarl with eyes shimmering in lifelike anguish. As Dumbledore and Hermione approached, the statue’s stone eyes flashed with recognition, widening in surprise. Despite its pain, the Gargoyle shifted on battered haunches and the soft grinding of stone echoed as it reluctantly moved aside.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNAYGIkxiRp
Hermione creased her brow with concern for the injured creature and paused. The torch’s faint glow flickered, sending shaky shadows over the Gargoyle’s battered form and revealing every crack and fissure in its granite surface. Its only remaining wing trembled slightly, as if even standing upright proved nearly impossible. Hermione stepped a little closer and spoke softly with empathy, ‘Are you alright?’ The Gargoyle’s stony face twisted briefly into a look of tired resignation, its eyes showing a hint of pain. It gave a quick, silent nod—stiff and strained—then returned to its position by the doorway, clutching its damaged wing protectively. Stone ground against stone as it moved, and for a moment, Hermione felt a strong urge to comfort it, understanding that even magical guardians could not escape the suffering caused by recent events.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡP7fYAaoAnA
Dumbledore led the way up the spiral staircase, with Hermione following close behind. As they stepped onto the worn steps, the ancient mechanism groaned deeply, creaking into life beneath their feet. The staircase ascended at a slow, steady pace, winding upward through the dim shaft towards the large oak door that marked the entrance to Dumbledore’s office. Dust-laden air brushed against Hermione’s skin with each turn, carrying subtle hints of old books, melted wax, and something indefinably magical. Hermione fixed her gaze ahead, her memories of previous visits mingling with the anxiety and anticipation tightening her chest. She gripped the carved banister, its surface polished smooth by centuries of use, to steady herself. At last, the staircase slowed and halted before the grand oak door, its polished surface glowing warmly against the battered castle walls. The ornate brass griffin knocker shimmered faintly in the subdued light, and Hermione paused for a moment to collect herself.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHYf0eqtdEt
Hermione entered the office and immediately noticed the devices and tools that Professor McGonagall had carefully preserved. Shelves displayed delicate silver instruments, which reflected the torchlight and cast intricate patterns across the walls: orbs whirred, celestial-faced clocks ticked softly, and slender, mysterious contraptions—known only to Dumbledore—stood prominently. The gently puffing Foe Glass and the spinning dials of the Put-Outer, among other artefacts, quietly paid tribute to the former Headmaster and symbolised his enduring legacy. The air carried the scent of aged parchment and polished wood, blended with a faint trace of lemon sherbet—a nod to Dumbledore’s fondness for the sweet treat.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXUdZsWZA91
The Headmaster’s office withstood the destruction that ravaged much of Hogwarts, its circular walls actively shielding the room from the chaos outside. Tall, arched windows remained intact, allowing moonlight to cascade softly over the worn rug and the polished surface of the large oak desk. Carefully arranged stacks of ancient books—some bound in dragon hide, others battered and faded from centuries of use—lined the walls. Portraits of former Headmasters and Headmistresses quietly rested in their frames; they peacefully slept, their painted faces serene, and only the gentle rise and fall of their breathing suggested life in this silent refuge amid the ruins.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLqQQ507vC9
Hermione clasped her hands in front of her, tracing the edge of her sleeve with absent-minded fingers while she observed the room—the twinkling lights above the bookshelves and the comforting clutter on the desk. Dumbledore sank into his chair behind the desk and let out a tired sigh, which faded softly into the calm quiet of the office.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4zD5vJXsbD
Dumbledore met Hermione’s gaze, his expression gentle and welcoming. ‘Please sit down, Miss Granger,’ he said, and he conjured a plush chintz chair in front of his desk. The chairs faded floral fabric draped over deep, comfortable cushions. The ornate wooden arms curled elegantly on each side, polished to a soft shine, while brass feet gleamed softly. For a moment, the familiar scent of lavender from the fabric mingled with the underlying aromas of parchment and wax that filled the room.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡl4Zy2IkDbC
Hermione accepted the invitation quietly and sat in the comfortable chair, making each movement deliberate as she braced herself for any news to come. The chair cushioned her, its softness masking her subtle shudders. She pressed her palms against the carved armrests, tracing the details beneath her fingers, and drew a steadying breath as her heartbeat quickened in anticipation. The fire crackled quietly, and the enchanted clocks ticked faintly, filling the silence while Hermione composed herself, ready to hear Dumbledore’s words. She softly asked, ‘What is it you needed to talk to me about, sir?’81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhexYK6B6pS
Hermione’s determined approach prompted Dumbledore to give her a serious smile. The lines on his old face deepened, and the usual spark in his eyes faded as he struggled with the weight of what he needed to say. The fire’s flickering shadows danced across his features, emphasising the sadness etched into every wrinkle. His slight smile vanished, leaving a thin, sorrowful line as he drew a shaky breath and let his shoulders sag under the strain of his grief. He adopted a sombre expression, his warm demeanour replaced by a cold, almost haunted seriousness as he prepared to deliver the news, ‘I am sorry, Miss Granger, but I have grave news to share.’81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcFmVN9YBXJ
Dumbledore steadied himself, gripping the polished edge of the desk. His voice, typically steady and comforting, trembled with emotion. ‘I am afraid that, despite your efforts to protect your parents from Voldemort... he found them…’ He paused, his voice dropping to a hoarse whisper, each word heavy with sorrow. ‘I am sorry, Miss Granger,’ he added softly, as tears welled in his eyes, exposing the remorse and the weight of delivering such devastating news. For a moment, he avoided Hermione’s gaze, focusing instead on the intricate carvings on the desk, searching for solace in the swirling patterns.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ73n5R5WKua
As Dumbledore’s words settled over her, Hermione felt each one press down like a tangible weight, squeezing the air from her lungs. The shock struck her forcefully, leaving her limbs numb and her chest constricted. Grief surged over her in an overwhelming wave, and tears welled up in her eyes, turning the familiar shapes of the office into blurred patterns of light and shadow. Her hands trembled as she clung to the edge of the plush chair, desperate to steady herself against the intensity of her sorrow.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡw3F3s5xYE6
Hermione struggled to accept her parents’ fate, barely able to process what she had just heard. Memories and faint echoes of laughter and love whirled through her mind, yet the finality of Dumbledore’s words now overshadowed them. She stared at Dumbledore, shock and disbelief etched across her face, as she searched his expression for any sign that contradicted his statement. Her tear-filled eyes scanned his features, desperately seeking the comforting softness or reassurance she needed, but she found only the raw honesty of his sorrow.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPLPVur0c0W
Hermione’s muffled, desperate sobs occasionally broke through the heavy silence of the room as she tried to process the heartbreaking news. Pain tightened her chest, and she forced out each fragile, raw sob, each breath a frantic attempt to stay composed. Her shoulders shook uncontrollably, and she curled inward, wishing she could disappear into her plush chair. Time seemed to drag on endlessly, with each interval between her sobs growing longer and more suffocating. She kept herself bent over, burying her face in her arms and letting her hair fall messily around her as a shield.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBMTzU6StYI
Dumbledore paused briefly, then leaned forward across his desk with deliberate care, ensuring he did not startle her further. He reached out his weathered, thin hand and rested it gently on Hermione’s arm, where she had hidden her face, offering a light, reassuring touch. Hermione responded to this unexpected gesture by lifting her eyes, confusion flickering across her tear-streaked face and the swollen, reddened skin around her eyes.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAo114R08gM
Hermione spoke, her voice trembling and choked with emotion, breaking through the silence even as her words faltered. ‘How…?’ she whispered, her voice thin and wavering, almost on the verge of crumbling under her grief. Pain etched itself into her features; she furrowed her brow and tensed her entire body, fighting the tide of sorrow that threatened to engulf her. For a moment, she avoided Dumbledore’s gaze, letting tears fill her eyes and blur her view into a watery haze. Another involuntary, raw, and heartbreaking sob escaped her, filling the silent office with its emotion.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpq5yrf6GPx
Despite the pain, Hermione forced herself to keep going and raised her hand to her face. Her shaky, awkward fingers tried to wipe away the tears, but more continued to fall. With a fragile, strained voice, she managed to ask, ‘H-How d-did you know? You w-were dead,’ each halting, broken word punctuated by sharp breaths between sobs. She seemed to pay a price for every word, her chest heaving as she struggled to hold back the emotional storm raging inside.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQoB4kbCZl4
Dumbledore sighed tiredly, the sound carried softly through the room. His shoulders sank, and the lines on his face stood out even more, revealing the burden he carried in that moment. He looked at Hermione with kind, sincere eyes, searching for words that might bring her comfort, even if only a little. ‘When Muggles who have given birth to magical children pass away, they go to the same place as us,’ he said softly, keeping his voice calm and steady to be as clear and reassuring as possible.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgYT2JuFpRe
Hermione focused intently, furrowing her brow as she absorbed the significance of Dumbledore's words. Firelight made her tear-streaked cheeks glisten as she gave a slow, purposeful nod, determined to understand despite her grief. Briefly, she allowed hope to flicker through her sadness—clinging to the belief that the world of magic had not completely taken her parents from her, nor severed their bond.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnlB2dZdOgL
Dumbledore continued, carefully choosing his words, ‘Explaining it in detail would be too complex and confusing, so I won't attempt it now. The nature of what happens after death—especially where the worlds of Muggles and wizards intersect—is shrouded in mystery, full of ancient magic and laws that even seasoned experts struggle to understand. Powerful forces, rarely spoken of, play a role in the process, deeply connecting both the magical and non-magical worlds. Beginning to explain these complexities would take hours or days, and I worry that, in your current state, hearing such explanations might not be healthy.’81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJZZ1O4bEBN
Hermione nodded slowly and gripped the edge of her chair with trembling hands, grounding herself in the moment. Although questions and a desperate need for clarity flooded her mind, she realised, amid her grief, that she could not delve into a detailed discussion now. She lifted her chin slightly and kept her gaze on Dumbledore, displaying inner strength tempered by heartache as she sought comfort and clung to fragile hope for answers in the future.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsWcBQhydjF
Hermione sniffled and wiped away fresh tears as she struggled to compose herself. Her fingers shook slightly while she brushed her cheeks, leaving faint streaks where the tears had fallen. Each shallow, uneven breath betrayed the intense emotions raging inside her. She slowly pushed herself up from the chair, moving with heaviness and hesitation, as though every action demanded more strength than she possessed. The plush seat creaked quietly when she stood, her legs wobbling, nearly buckling under the weight of grief and exhaustion. She fixed her gaze on Dumbledore, exhaustion and sorrow etched into her posture—her shoulders slumped, her arms hugging herself in a futile search for comfort. Her hair, once neatly arranged, now hung in loose, tangled strands around her face, turning her tear-streaked features into a mask of vulnerability. She pressed her lips together tightly, the corners trembling as she fought to regain control. With heartache clouding her voice, she asked him, ‘Is there anything else, Professor?’ Her words, barely more than a monotone, conveyed the depth of her misery and the emotional toll of their conversation. The sound lingered in the air—fragile and muted—mirroring the sorrow that clung to her like a shadow.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEwKOapugFX
Dumbledore stood up, slowly and thoughtfully, the whisper of his robes filling the quiet room. With careful steps, he paced around his desk, his presence radiating both authority and kindness, before stopping beside Hermione as she trembled with emotion. He placed his arm around her shoulders, offering a light yet firm embrace that wrapped her in comfort. His robe’s sleeve brushed softly against her hair, and she felt the faint tremor in his hand—evidence of his effort to remain composed. His steady, gentle hold provided stability rather than intrusion, anchoring her amidst her emotional turmoil. They walked towards the door together, with Dumbledore guiding her with quiet dignity; each step embodied hope and reassurance, silently affirming that she was not alone in her grief.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeKk7Jbs1fH
Dumbledore halted as they approached the door, speaking in a soft and calm tone. He whispered gently, ‘Just one last thing,’ letting his words linger in the silent room. Overwhelmed with emotion, Hermione looked up at him. Even through her red, swollen eyes from crying, a faint spark of curiosity and interest remained—she listened eagerly, despite her exhaustion and sadness.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVAAPO1c3o1
Dumbledore gently said, 'I've always believed that during dark times, a good book can work wonders to heal the disheartened.’ His soothing and encouraging words echoed the wisdom of someone who took comfort in stories many times and now offered that comfort to Hermione. 81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8iUSkNEWvA
Hermione creased her brow slightly—not because she doubted him, but because she found it hard to imagine any remedy for her current despair. She remained silent, unsure how to respond—her eyes fixed on Dumbledore, searching for reassurance in his kindness. At that moment, the idea of a good book became more than advice; he offered her comfort, gently reminding her that the written word could provide refuge from sorrow, even in heartbreak.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡC15wJL89aO
He continued, ‘I believe you will find one in the library, Miss Granger,’ and the familiar twinkle returned to his eyes—a blend of warmth and reassurance that softened the lingering sadness on his face. Dumbledore’s eyes sparkled with gentle wisdom, as though he understood the comforting secrets a good book could reveal. Hermione gave a slow nod, uncertainty clouding her thoughts about his advice but gratitude warming her for his efforts to comfort her.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPw6rqzfqXe
Dumbledore gently held the doorway open, and Hermione whispered her thanks. Although the hallway beyond looked longer and darker than usual, she still felt a lingering sense of safety from Dumbledore’s presence behind her. Taking a hesitant final step, Hermione walked through the door and moved toward the spiral staircase with cautious, faltering steps.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkErlXQ5Vwr
Hermione hesitated over the first step of the staircase, about to descend, when Dumbledore’s voice gently called to her again. ‘Oh, and Miss Granger?’ he said softly. Startled by the calmness in his tone, Hermione paused mid-movement. The torchlight softly illuminated the floor, casting long shadows that outlined her silhouette against the wall as she slowly turned back. Tears streaked her cheeks, shimmering faintly in the subdued light, and her hands trembled gently.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSnIQDvuEQF
She met his gaze, her tired face attentive. Although her eyes remained red from crying, she showed quiet determination, fighting exhaustion. She stood upright even as her shoulders sagged under an invisible burden, drawing on strength she wasn’t sure she possessed. Hermione asked softly, ‘Yes, Professor?’81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCrUiWuO5r2
Dumbledore advised, ‘Remember to visit Mr Weasley before heading to the library to check on him. I'm sure Mr Potter will also be wondering where you are,’ his concern clear in his voice. He recognised the healing power of friendship and the importance of not bearing sorrow alone, infusing his words with a subtle insistence. As he spoke, he gave Hermione a gentle, reassuring smile, curling his lips up slightly even though his eyes still held sadness.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7KlCrLGrcK
Hermione gave a nod, but she did not smile back. Sorrow weighed on her, yet she valued Dumbledore’s guidance and the concern he showed for her and her friends. Her shoulders drooped, showing her exhaustion, but a faint glimmer of gratitude shone in her moist eyes behind the heaviness. She gave the Headmaster a final, trusting look—a silent gesture of thanks—then steadied herself and drew a slow, resolute breath. With trembling fingers, she brushed a loose strand of hair from her face as she readied herself to step onto the spiral stairs. Although grief and fatigue clouded her mind, she focused on Dumbledore’s words, determined to visit Ron, and to seek comfort in Harry’s presence before she retreated to the library as the Headmaster gently advised.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnqeudxPXpt
As soon as the door clicked shut behind her, sorrow overwhelmed Hermione and nearly drowned her in emotion. The soft thud of the door echoed through the empty corridor, marking the end of the brief comfort she had found in Dumbledore’s presence. She pressed her back against the sturdy wood, seeking support or something to ground herself as she tried to regain control. The cool, rigid surface pressed into her spine but did not steady her, and soon she could no longer hold back her tears; they streamed freely down her cheeks in hot, relentless rivulets. Her breathing became shallow and ragged, and silent sobs shook her entire body from head to toe.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6bbz3ia42h
Memories and regrets flooded her mind, and she saw vivid images of her parents—her mother offering a gentle smile, her father embracing her in a comforting hug. The choices she made to protect them now haunted her like circling vultures, each one laden with dread and doubt. She constantly questioned whether she acted recklessly by sending them to Australia or if, in her urgency to shield them, she overlooked a hidden danger that eventually led to tragedy. Guilt gripped her relentlessly and sharply, making her feel as though she bore responsibility for every cruel twist of fate that separated her from her family. Her shoulders shook with grief; she buried her face in her hands, but she could not stifle her sobs.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjgJmpHs9YD
Hermione battled to maintain her composure, even as guilt’s relentless tide threatened to overwhelm her. She wiped away her tears with trembling fingers and drew shallow, uneven breaths. Determination flickered faintly as she reminded herself that she mustn’t fall apart now. Harry and Ron needed her to be strong, and she refused to add to their burden with her emotional turmoil. She straightened her posture, took a shaky breath, and stilled her sobs. Running her hands through her hair, she smoothed the stray strands from her damp face, concealing her pain. Her heart ached and her throat tightened, but Hermione remained resolute, facing her friends with as much composure as she could muster, determined to spare them any worry while she quietly gathered the strength to endure her sorrow.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwg5NMgML88
Hermione descended the spiral staircase, her feet touching the cool, ancient stone steps as she moved down in gentle, winding circles. The stairs creaked quietly, echoing through the stillness and mirroring her sense of isolation. Flickering torches in iron sconces cast shadows along the curved walls, their flames forming uncertain, wavering patterns that danced over Hermione’s bowed figure. When she reached the bottom and the staircase ended, Hermione stepped off slowly, exhaustion weighing down her movements so that each step felt as if she were wading through thick water. The silent, deserted corridor pressed in around her, amplifying her shallow, uneven breaths until they sounded even louder.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡto4kDfWdE7
She briefly paused and leant against the cold stone banister for support, wiping away the tears that silently traced down her pale cheeks. Her trembling hands tried to steady themselves as her fingers caught the dampness of her sorrow. Grief engulfed her, leaving her hollow and numb, as though she merely moved through the motions as a shell of herself. The vast, echoing hall stretched endlessly before her, with every shadow serving as a reminder of what she had lost. For a moment, she considered collapsing there and letting the darkness claim her. Still, instead she drew on a strength she barely recognised within herself and forced herself to stand, determined to keep going despite the pain that threatened to overwhelm her.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ21pyRPezQM
The deaths of Hermione’s parents haunted her, carving an unfillable void that ached persistently—a hollow in her chest that throbbed with every breath, as though she had lost a vital part of herself forever. She remembered vividly the day she sent them to Australia: she whispered the spell with trembling hands, saw her mother’s eyes briefly confused before softening into oblivion, and watched her father’s gentle smile fade as the magic took hold. Out of love and desperation, Hermione acted, knowing she might never see them again, and every detail of that farewell remained sharply etched in her memory. She cast a spell so powerful that no counter-spell could reverse it, and the finality tormented her; she spent nights wrestling with the consequences, questioning whether she had made the right choice. In the aftermath, she found comfort only in the hope that they were safe, building new lives far away. She clung to a fragile hope of reunion, imagining tearful meetings and restored warmth and laughter. Now, that hope had vanished; her dreams lay cruelly shattered, and the heavy burden of loss pressed down on her.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTOACU3RcOj
Hermione navigated the damaged halls of Hogwarts, her mind swirling with questions. The thought of how Voldemort had tracked them down troubled her, heightening her anxiety as she entered a hallway ravaged by destruction. A collapsed ceiling at the far end blocked her path, so she had to find another route to the Hospital Wing. Dust and debris coated the flagstone floor, while shattered suits of armour and splintered wood lay scattered amidst the rubble. The thick air reeked of burned parchment, scorched stone, and a faint metallic scent of blood—a silent reminder of the violence that had engulfed the castle. Shadows flickered in the torchlight, dancing ominously across the battered walls and conjuring an atmosphere of unsettling desolation.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTJgWcuysqx
She retraced her steps with determination and chose another corridor, where only a few cracks marred the walls and most of the passage remained untouched by the recent chaos. The stones still radiated some warmth, and the faint light picked out faded tapestries and portraits that had survived the attack. Thick silence hung in the air, broken only by the soft sound of Hermione’s footsteps and the distant, mournful creak as the castle settled. She pressed on, her heart pounding and every nerve tense, staying alert for any sound as she navigated the labyrinth of halls, the heavy burden of grief never leaving her.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrLysdwO2yp
Hermione’s curiosity drew her to an open doorway, and she peered inside. The scene revealed even greater devastation—someone had destroyed one outside wall entirely, leaving a jagged opening where stones and mortar had once stood. She stepped closer and crunched broken glass beneath her feet, compelled to discover what lay beyond the wreckage. Through the hole, the night sky stretched endlessly, offering a quiet expanse filled with stars. Moonlight poured into the damaged room, bathing the debris in a cold, silver glow. Scattered pieces of stone and twisted beams lay across the floor, their shadowy forms outlined against the pale light, while a torn curtain flapped weakly in the breeze, its edges scorched and ragged.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡP7Mh6cNv0L
Hermione lingered in the doorway, the cold night air brushing against her skin and making her shiver. She let out a slow, trembling breath as sadness swept over her. The sky stretched above, stunning in its beauty, with stars shining in a timeless, indifferent fashion—unmoved by the pain below. Their bright light seemed to mock her sorrow, quietly reminding her that life continued, heedless of her suffering. Tears welled in her eyes once more, and the silent beauty of the starry sky failed to soothe her ache. For a fleeting moment, she longed to disappear among the stars, out of reach of the destruction and grief surrounding her, but the ruined castle’s harsh reality anchored her, keeping her grounded in her grief and the present moment.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLw5nR8kkwv
Hermione turned back and walked slowly through the silent, deserted halls toward the Hospital Wing. Each step echoed like a solitary drumbeat in a tomb, sharply reminding her of how deserted the castle had become. She gazed down the shadowy corridor ahead, where darkness gathered in the corners, swallowing the edges of faded tapestries and old portraits, their faces half-hidden in gloom. The flickering torches in their sconces threw long, wavering shadows that shifted and curled with her every movement, giving the hallway an eerie, haunted feel.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuYG2Ujg29b
Hogwarts had never appeared so deserted. Instead of bustling with activity—students hurrying to classes, teachers patrolling, and resident ghosts drifting silently—the passages now lay empty. Laughter, conversations, and the occasional stern reprimand no longer echoed through the halls. Portraits along the walls, usually lively as they chatted or offered advice to passersby, sat silent. Warm candlelight no longer spilled from doors and sounds of activity or the familiar scents of parchment, ink, and roasted food from the Great Hall had vanished. Only her footsteps echoed alone. The silence and absence of life made the castle unfamiliar and unsettling, as though it joined her in mourning. Corridors stretched longer, shadows deepened, and even the tapestries drooped, their colours dulled and mournful. The grand staircases stood motionless, while suits of armour, which once nodded politely or issued rusty warnings, remained frozen in silence. The castle’s ancient stones, usually full of history and hidden joy, now absorbed the oppressive quiet from all sides. It seemed as if Hogwarts’ soul had stilled, leaving only the echoes of happier days and a profound sense of loss.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCwucw3o3i5
When Hermione arrived at the Hospital Wing, she saw that the entrance had been destroyed; the door hung precariously from its hinges, heavily damaged and standing as a stark symbol of the chaos that had recently swept through Hogwarts. Splintered wood and shards of glass blocked the threshold, and scorch marks from magical blasts scarred the frame. Hermione paused, heart pounding, and surveyed the destruction—the familiar archway now appeared as a jagged silhouette flickering in the torchlight. Inside, the thick air carried the scent of healing potions and faint traces of antiseptic, mingling with the aroma of old stone and dust. She drew a deep, steady breath, then carefully stepped over the debris, determined to check on Ron as Dumbledore had advised. She moved deliberately as she entered the silent, wounded sanctuary beyond.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQjGmmifiwK
Hermione immediately noticed Harry bent over Ron’s bed, his head resting on his clenched fists. She paused and saw his exhausted eyes, fixed unseeing on Ron as troubling thoughts consumed him. The sadness and seriousness on his face spoke of sleepless nights and burdens far too heavy for someone his age. Not wanting to disturb his reflection, Hermione moved quietly, treading lightly on the old stone floor so each step remained gentle and unobtrusive. Seeing her friend so broken made Hermione’s heart ache, but she prepared herself to offer comfort, determined to remain a steady support amid the uncertainty.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2WIjzEffkm
As Hermione gazed down at Ron, Harry looked up at her. Ron appeared to be merely sleeping, despite the seriousness of his condition. The thin hospital blanket covered him up to his chin, but it could not conceal the pallor of his freckled skin, which almost glowed in the faint torchlight. Hermione placed her trembling fingers gently on his pale cheek, tracing along his jaw with a tender, sorrowful touch, as if she could will warmth and life back into his motionless body. The slow, rhythmic rise and fall of Ron’s chest showed her he was still alive; otherwise, he looked heartbreakingly fragile, as though lost in some unreachable realm.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXVPoXrljes
She quietly sat down across from Harry and settled beside Ron, making the old hospital bed squeak beneath her. She placed her hand on the faintly moving sheets and reached out to grasp Ron’s cold hand. She gently encased his fingers in hers and softly stroked his knuckles with her thumb, desperately trying to offer comfort and breathe life back into him. The heavy silence in the ward surrounded them, with only the distant drip of a potion vial and the soft shuffle of Hermione’s robes as she moved closer to Ron breaking the quiet. She gazed at his face, hoping he would stir, wake up, and smile his crooked smile, but he remained still—his eyelids fluttered only slightly, as if he was trapped in a troubled dream.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡY84ykEpvP7
Hermione looked up at Harry and saw exhaustion carved into his features: deep shadows circled his eyes, his brow furrowed with worry, and his glasses sat askew, unnoticed. Tears glimmered in his eyes, catching the torchlight, while his shoulders sagged in despair, every part of him exposing the heavy burden he carried. Hermione drew a deep breath and softly called his name with a voice that trembled, her curiosity and concern evident, as she tried to break the silence and offer comfort amid the uncertainty.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKjj5N0QIg2
Harry looked up at Hermione, worry shadowing his eyes, then turned his gaze back to Ron. He spoke in a barely audible voice—soft and strained, ‘Madame Pomfrey can’t understand what’s happened to him,’ he said, burdened by pain. He removed his glasses, and his hands trembled as he rubbed his tired eyes with his palms, desperately and almost childishly trying to banish his sorrow and exhaustion. He hunched forward for a moment, worry lines deepening on his brow, then put his glasses back on with trembling fingers. When he spoke again, his voice shook, thick with emotion and fear. ‘She examined him with a spell. The results suggest there’s about a ninety percent chance he won’t wake up from whatever caused this...’ His words faded, swallowed by the heavy silence of the ward. Grief and uncertainty thickened the air, making every breath laboured and full of dread. He let out a long, shuddering sigh as tears welled up, threatening to spill. In a quiet, barely audible whisper, he finished, ‘He’s in a coma.’81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiVv6zGoSg3
Hermione gripped Ron’s hand tightly, her knuckles turning white as she struggled to keep calm. The question nearly caught in her throat and proved challenging to voice, but desperation drove her on. ‘Did Madame Pomfrey say what will happen next? What she’s planning?’ she asked, her voice cracking with anxiety, the words barely louder than a whisper. She darted her eyes between Harry and Ron, searching Harry’s face for reassurance and clinging to any hope he might offer. The idea that Ron might never wake overwhelmed her—a cold fear gnawing at her insides, making her voice tremble with unshed tears.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡF1UtdVwqgf
Harry nodded solemnly, his face sombre as he announced, ‘They’re moving him to St. Mungo’s tomorrow morning. Madame Pomfrey believes he needs more specialised care. A few tests should reveal what happened to him,’ he explained, voice mixed with hope and resignation. The words lingered heavily, as the idea of Ron leaving Hogwarts for the busy wizarding hospital brought both comfort and fear. The castle’s familiar, if battered, surroundings had always offered security and belonging, and imagining Ron in the sterile, unfamiliar wards of St. Mungo’s made his condition feel even more real. Madame Pomfrey’s decision highlighted how serious Ron’s situation had become—she would reluctantly admit that the school infirmary’s magic and remedies could no longer suffice. In the flickering torchlight, Harry’s gaze flickered with uncertainty as he looked at Ron, longing for answers and fearing what they might discover.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGbNvOOB9cg
Hermione gave a quiet nod, acknowledging the weight of the news between them. The silence that followed grew tense as they focused on Ron, their concern for him burning silently and intensely. Hermione gripped Ron’s hand tightly, as if by sheer will she could keep him anchored to life. She looked at Harry, who remained motionless—his gaze locked on Ron’s still figure, his body rigid with inner turmoil. Both friends struggled with feelings of helplessness and longing, their hopes for Ron’s recovery mingling with fears that he might never return.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKG8mgpNKrG
The heavy silence hung in the room until Harry broke it, speaking softly and hesitantly as he looked up at Hermione. ‘What did Dumbledore want?’ he asked gently, his curiosity evident in his raised brow and gentle tone. 81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2dkPls8J3j
Hermione paused, her breath briefly catching as she decided what to tell Harry. She met Harry’s sincere, concerned gaze and, perhaps to shield herself from the emotional strain, gave a slight, uncertain shrug. In a soft voice, Hermione responded, ‘Not much, just referred me to a book in the library.’81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡw6ZuugBSIj
Harry furrowed his brow in apparent disbelief and frustratedly shuffled his messy hair. Unconvinced by her explanation, he tightened his lips and paused, apparently searching for the right words. At last, he shook his head, his expression blending frustration with reluctant amusement. ‘A book? Seriously? With Hogwarts in ruins, he tells you to read a book? I thought he was crazy before, but now I’m sure he is,’ he muttered, letting out a short, incredulous laugh that echoed softly in the quiet ward. His tone sounded harsh yet carried a faint flicker of affection and exasperation as he spoke of Dumbledore, trying to lighten their grim reality. Despite everything, Hermione managed a small smile behind her worry, the familiar banter briefly easing the heavy weight on her heart.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4VRiN9GIm5
Hermione reassured Harry softly, her voice gentle yet determined. ‘Well, you know Dumbledore—he’s a bit eccentric, but he has good intentions,’ she said, trying to ease the tension in the room. She kept her eyes on Harry’s troubled face, searching for any sign that her words might bring relief. She gave Harry a gentle smile and quickly squeezed his arm, grounding him against rising worry. Harry nodded silently and accepted her comfort, but the faint frown between his brows showed his lingering doubt.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ61dlBYgp4g
The amber torchlight gently flickered on their faces, casting long shadows that danced along the stone walls and brought warmth to the otherwise gloomy scene. After pausing, Harry slowly and deliberately stretched, clearly showing exhaustion pressing down on him. The soft glow illuminated his jumper as he stretched his back and released a quiet sigh—a small sign that the recent days had worn him down. Hermione watched him with concern, her brows knitted and lips tight with worry, as she took in his tired features. She tracked his movements with her eyes and nervously fidgeted with the edge of Ron’s blanket. She frowned slightly and spoke in a gentle, visibly worried voice. ‘Where are you going?’ she asked softly, her tone hinting at her unease as she watched him prepare to leave.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjEwM7mhDDz
Harry sighed wearily as he faced Hermione, clear fatigue marking his features. He let his shoulders slump, and the flickering torchlight accentuated the lines of exhaustion beneath his eyes, throwing deep shadows across his face. In a husky, low voice, he said softly, ‘I’m going to sleep now. I didn’t rest well last night.’ Each word laid bare how much the recent stress weighed on him. With a small, comforting smile that didn’t quite reach his tired eyes, he added, ‘Don’t worry, I’ll sleep just an hour or so, then I’ll be back.’81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCeQ8QbMYOH
Harry tried to lighten the mood, adding, ‘Unless the Common Room got destroyed, then I’ll be back in a few.’ A ghost of a grin appeared at the corner of his mouth and briefly revealed his usual dry humour through the heaviness. As he passed, he softly squeezed Hermione’s arm, silently promising to return and showing silent solidarity amidst the uncertainty surrounding them.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUWSM5lh0Pb
Harry strode from the Hospital Wing, determination masking his exhaustion. He walked briskly down the flagstone corridor, his footsteps whispering into silence. The torches flickered along the hall, casting shifting shadows across the floor that lengthened as he vanished from Hermione’s sight, his presence lingering at Ron’s bedside long after he had gone.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwcxof4Tc1V
Hermione frowned, her worry plain as she gazed down at Ron. The Infirmary’s soft light gently cast shadows over his sleeping face, highlighting the stark contrast between the lively friend she remembered and the quiet, motionless boy before her. She remained by his bedside, tense yet gentle, unwilling to leave him; simply by being there, she offered Ron comfort, even while he slept, and she drew fragile reassurance for herself amid the growing anxiety. The only sound came from the steady rhythm of Ron’s breathing, which Hermione clung to, hoping it would bring a measure of hope in the face of uncertainty. After she fought back tears for some time, she slowly stood, leaned over, and pressed a tender kiss to his forehead. She ran her fingers through his tousled ginger hair, channelling strength and warmth with every touch, her affection and hope shining through the small gesture. At last, she drew a deep, shaky breath, let go, and turned to leave the Infirmary—her heart heavy, but her resolve unwavering, determined to find answers and help her friend no matter what it took.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwcgBLLLdCi
Hermione paused in the hallway, feeling uncertain. The corridor echoed with quiet, broken only by the faint crackle of torchlight that cast long shadows on the old stone walls, bathing them in a warm amber glow. She drew a deep breath, Dumbledore’s earlier words running through her mind—their odd, teasing tone still echoing as if he stood right beside her. She could almost picture his knowing smile and twinkling eyes, which brought both comfort and a sense of urgency.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQSFmMc8Zue
She furrowed her brow, exposing the inner turmoil that simmered beneath her composed exterior. Recent losses weighed heavily on her chest, yet her grief ignited a familiar spark of curiosity—one that often guided her through the darkness. She glanced back at the closed doors of the Hospital Wing, let her gaze linger for a moment, then straightened her shoulders with fresh resolve.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJzyIQEU4hA
Hermione steadied herself with a deep breath, set her jaw, and quietly walked down the corridor, her shoes barely whispering against the flagstones. The sprawling, maze-like halls of Hogwarts stretched before her—scarred by recent chaos yet still resonating with echoes of laughter and learning. As she made her way towards the library, she firmed her steps with resolve, pushing aside doubt and focusing on her clear purpose: to unravel Dumbledore’s mysterious suggestion and, perhaps among the dusty old books, discover hope for her friends and for herself.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYJLlpbEr0b
Hermione actively mulled over Dumbledore’s cryptic advice, replaying their conversation and recognising the headmaster’s deliberate ambiguity. He didn’t simply suggest any book; instead, he hinted at a particular volume hidden somewhere within Hogwarts’ vast, labyrinthine library—leaving its title unspoken, as if expecting her to recognise it the moment she saw it. A surge of anticipation coursed through her. She questioned anew whether this mysterious book truly existed or if Dumbledore intended to steer her towards something deeper—perhaps a concealed truth layered beneath magic and memory. Her mind brimmed with possibilities: perhaps this book held ancient spells or forgotten cures, or maybe, nestled among its dusty pages, she would discover records of magical maladies akin to Ron’s odd affliction, or even personal notes from others who had faced similar trials before.81Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwT85Nktndf
Hermione’s cautious yet energising hope gradually replaced her anxiety as she pondered these questions. The possibility of finding the answer to Ron’s problem among the ancient shelves and hidden corners spurred her into action. She infused each step toward the library with new purpose, her heart pounding as she imagined the age-old parchment beneath her fingers. She strengthened her determination, making a quiet promise to herself and Ron that she would not stop until she uncovered whatever secrets Dumbledore wanted her to find. With her mind alight and fears momentarily quieted, Hermione strode confidently down the corridor, ready to face the unknown darkness in search of hope and answers.
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