Lammas Night -- Sacrifice

Lammas Night - Sacrifice : Chapter One

Augustus Pye shook his head as he watched the retreating figure of Hermione Granger through his window. She had been one of his pupils, but only for a while; she, like so many of those who had fought (and for those he had failed to save, died, he reminded himself sadly) in the Battles, had been advanced in her studies far quicker than was the norm.

He knew it had been a necessary measure - there had been a severe shortage of fighters and healers alike since the Wizarding world had been caught unawares - yet he still feared the repercussions.

The whole Wizarding world shared a vast sadness - the war had been won, yet several had given their lives for the victory. Augustus could only hope the dead would not be forgotten, even though this memory caused undue pain more often than not.

That had been what Hermione had wanted to talk to him about. Ever practical, she had dispassionately asked him to block all memories of the death and suffering she had seen in the war, citing "cause of decrease in efficiency" as a reason.

He had seen that she was still in a kind of shock, a refusal to believe all that had happened, and had instead suggested a trip to one of the more isolated hamlets. Those in the mountains, especially, had been less affected by the Battles, and her abilities as a powerful Healer-Auror would be needed anywhere.

She had seemed to take his implied refusal in her stride, but Augustus wasn't too sure of anything now. Yes, she needed rest, quiet time to think, but would retreating to the mountains be too drastic, too soon? He hoped the child would have the sense not to do anything foolish...

~ ~ ~

"But...you can't do this!" Her voice is incredulous as she looks at him, eyes wide.

He only shrugs and shakes his head, removing his dusty cloak and laying it over the arm of a chair in the tent.

"Surely there must be some other way - we can wait, wait 'til we find an opportunity to trap Voldemort, or..."

"Hermione." He turns to face her, holding her firmly at arm's length. "This is the opportunity. The longer we wait, the more people we'll lose." Then he sighs and, somewhat impulsively, gathers her in his arms and embraces her tight. When she finally pushes away and nods slightly, he gently brushes the last stray tear from her eyes and smiles a little sadly. "That's my girl."

In the dim light of the tent, the two embrace again. No promises have been made, for none are needed.

~ ~ ~

Hermione Granger packed the last of her clothes with a tired wave of her wand, ruefully realizing that all her worldly possessions fit nicely into the carrying case she had just received from her mother. Her parents had been justifiably worried for their only daughter, out fighting a war of proportions they'd no clue about.

Similarly, they had been justifiably relieved when they received word that the war was over and she was safe, and, she sighed, "...justifiably disappointed that I wasn't immediately 'Apparating' home. Apparating, indeed! As if I hadn't said a million time that the Battles were over, but apparating's still to dangerous to attempt - oh I'm so sorry, Colin, I know I'm supposed to have a session with you now, give me a moment, I'm just about done."

"Take your time, Hermione. I'm early and I'll wait - not like I've got anything to do anyway. I'd go trouble Neville instead but you know Neville. Popular chap's overbooked..." He smiled slightly.

Hermione threw a mock withering look over her shoulder at the man sitting comfortably at the chair beside her study table.

"...And you, M'cher, are, of course, exclusive," he continues swiftly, with the ghost of a grin that disappeared almost as quickly as it appeared teasing his lips. "Actually, I received word that you were leaving soon, and I wanted to talk to you - no, not as a patient, but as a friend."

Hermione raised an enquiring eyebrow at Colin Creevey, the only remaining half of the duo that had rocked the Wizarding world with their remarkable footage of the Battles. He was as haggard as anyone around here looked, but also had a bereft air about him. Hermione saw it in the way his hands were unconsciously held in a cradle for something, and the way he tried to sit alone but seemed somehow awkward in the position, and her heart ached.

Colin was a good friend - they had both lost someone they loved, and not quite gotten over it, but it seemed to Hermione that Colin had it tougher than she did. He had buried his camera with his brother, and it had been like a part of him had died with Dennis...like so many others she'd had to heal.

"Hermione? Are you alright?"

She looked up, blinked a few times, focused, then shook her head. "Sorry, Colin, I must be more tired than I thought...ready?"

"Yes, but if you're tired - are you really okay?"

Hermione looked hard at Colin for a moment, then shook her head again and smiled slightly. "I'm alright, Colin."

After all, he had enough troubles of his own.

~ ~ ~

Hermione left early the next morning - she had bid farewell to her close friends the night before and wanted to make a headstart on her journey.

The campsite was still dark, but several people were already up - it was hard to kick some habits after such a long period of vigilance. Hermione was not the only one leaving, though as far as she knew, she was the only one leaving for another journey, with an as yet unknown destination...

Turning back to the entrance for one last look at the small crowd gathered to send people off, she whispered, "Goodbye." In farewell to the memories of all that had been lost, memories she would carry for the rest of her life...