Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Foreword: I want to participate in National Novel Writing Month. Yes, I am aware that it has to be something original if I want to submit it. Though I do have such a story in mind, I am more in the mood to continue on with my fanfiction hobby. I'm taking a break from current on-going story just for this month so I can focus on this one. I know I'm a few days too early, but I can't help it. It is in my head and it is forcing me to write! I hope you enjoy it!

Catching Up

by Romantic Silence

Prologue

Harry, Falling

I blasted away Dolohov, sending him backwards into the wall at the far end.

I scrambled to my feet and rushed to Hermione's prone form on the cold floor. To my side, Neville clumsily followed after me, clutching his broken nose with his hand while blood escaped from his nostrils. I dropped to my knees as soon as I had a closer inspection of Hermione. My hands moved on its own as I swept my finger across her face. She was pale and still; her body felt cool to the touch. It was then that I froze as I came to believe in the worst.

Hermione was dead.

She was dead and it was all my fault. Next to me, I felt Neville rest his hand atop my shoulder. I did not react but instead continued to stare at Hermione's lifeless body. My thoughts turned back to a couple of hours ago when Hermione and I argued over whether or not we should go to the Ministry. She had pointed out how obvious it was a trap. Of course I had to remain stubborn and as such, I remained steadfast in my want to naively charge into the Department of Mysteries. It was a trap and now I'm paying for my negligence.

Neville moved to Hermione and began checking for a pulse. I stared at him as hope began to fill my body. He looked up and met my eyes. He gazed at me with sorrowful eyes, a solemn expression marring his usual jovial face. My heart sank and broke in two as I realized with mortification at the implications of his actions. In my desperation, I told myself that Neville was wrong. After all, he didn't have good grades at school. Not like Hermione. He was only good in Herbology. What would he know about knowing a person's vitals? Of course, this was all foolish. Hermione had taught everyone in the DA first-aid. As much as I tried to deny it, I knew what Neville told me next was true.

"Harry," Neville began, his voice ill, "Hermione's dead."

I crumbled to the ground, my suit dirtied from the patch of wet mud I landed on. A dull pain resonated on my cheek, but I cared little for it. I strained my ears to listen to the father of my best friend as the heavy rain poured relentlessly down. The Granger patriarch glared at me with hate-filled eyes as he continued to shout. From the corner of my eye, I observed Ron and Sirius moving to assist me, but soon stopped when I shot a meaningful glance at their direction.

"...dead because of you! My only daughter died because...because..."

Whatever he was about to say next died in his throat. Instead of saying anything more, he stood there silent. Tears began to freely fall from his eyes. I watched Hermione's mother move to support him, placing a comforting hand around his. She avoided looking at me, and I had no doubt that she didn't blame me any less than her husband. Soothingly, she told her husband, "Come on Nathan. Let's go home."

"Okay, Charlotte." He answered her. Hermione's mother began leading him away, never stopping to say anything to me.

As the two of them left, Ron and Sirius arrived at my side and helped me up. The funeral had long since been over. The ceremony was quick. Hermione and her parents didn't have many relatives. Her grandparents had passed away and any other relatives had a strained relationship with her parents. The only people whom attended that weren't magical were the Grangers and a few of their close friends. As everyone else left, only I and the Grangers were left behind to stand in front of Hermione's grave; Ron and Sirius stood a few ways off in order to wait for me.

"You okay, Harry?" Sirius asked me, "Hurt anywhere?"

I was hurt all over. I had just witnessed my best friend be buried when not even a week ago, she had been vibrant with life. I could still recall her cheery laughter as we sat together by the fire in the common room. Although she was forceful when it came to accomplishing our schoolwork, Hermione still knew when to unwind and relax.

"I'm fine."

Ron clasped my shoulder, "It wasn't your fault, Harry." He told me quietly, smiling at me reassuringly. However, I knew better. His true feelings were plain to see. The once mischievous shine in his blue eyes had been dulled by the death of our best friend. His smile, though wide, never reached his eyes. Like myself, Ron was devastated as well. Despite that, he was better off than I am. He would not live with the fact that it was his decision that would cost the life of someone dear to him.

"C'mon, Harry. Let's go home." Sirius told me, wrapping one arm around my shoulders as he led me away from the grave.

I looked up at Sirius, his appearance no longer ragged or grim when I first came to meet him. His cheeks were far from being gaunt due to years of malnutrition within a cell. Instead, they were starting to fill with the youthful vigor that he had when he had been younger. He was alive and well. In fact, he had been in no danger that night. It wasn't until that he arrived at the Ministry along with the rest of the Order did it occur to me that he had been safe all along. I was a fool.

"What's wrong?" Sirius asked me, having caught me staring at him.

I shook my head, "It's nothing."

Seeing his face reminded me what I lost.

"Dismissed."

At Snape's dismissal, I, and the rest of the class, began packing our belongings and leaving the Potions room. Ron and Neville were talking excitedly about Defense against the Dark Arts. Sirius was teaching it now after all. It was good for the Headmaster that he allowed Sirius to teach DADA. More than anyone, I knew how awful it was to stay in a house that hardly felt welcoming. With his name cleared, Sirius was free to do whatever he wished.

"Potter," I heard Snape drawled from the far end of the room. I stopped my stride and turned to the professor that had nothing but contempt for me, "Stay behind."

Ron and Neville stopped in front of me, ready to assist. I shook my head, "You two go on ahead. Tell Sirius I'll be running late."

"C'mon, mate. It's Snape." Ron said, his eyes shifting to the Potions professor.

"No, I'll be fine."

"Whatever you say, Harry. C'mon Ron."

"But-"

"It's fine, Ron. I'll be alright." I reassured him, placating him with a small smile.

"Oh, alright. Let's go Neville."

With the two of them off, I edged closer towards Snape. He patiently stood at the front of the classroom. Oddly enough, I have yet to see a scowl appear on his face. Snape gestured to sit in the seat in front of him. I took my seat, a little suspicious yet curious as to what the bat wanted now. I was in no mood for one of his regular taunts. As I looked up from my seat, our eyes met. Curiously, I noticed empathy embedded in his cold, dark eyes.

"Potter, I understand that Granger is dead." He stated coolly.

My temper began to rise, I would not tolerate if the bastard said one word about Hermione. I narrowed my eyes, glaring intensely at the man in front of me, "What of it?"

"Calm down, Potter. I, too, know how it feels to lose the woman we love to our own incompetence."

I stopped and stared at him. Barring his confession, I focused on his words about love. Did I really love Hermione? Truthfully, I was attracted to her. Who wouldn't be? She was a person you could always count on. Despite all her flaws, she was someone I would always turn to for nearly everything. It was frustrating whenever the other boys in the dorm would pass up on Hermione when they talked about girls with whom they wanted to be with. Perhaps I did love her. I often recalled the times when it was just the two of us simply talking to one another about our aspirations and our feelings. There was no one else I felt so comfortable with. Not even Sirius or Ron came close to how I felt whenever I was with her.

"So what?" I asked Snape bitterly, "Is this supposed to make me feel better? You've always hated me Snape. What changed?"

"We're not so different, you and I." Snape continued, ignoring my tirade, "I don't expect you to forget what I have done to you, but even I am human. I have always been blind due to the fact you look so similar to the man I hate, but I realize now that you are nothing like the man I loathe." From his desk, he picked up a notebook and placed it on the surface in front of me, "Your mother was brilliant in her studies. She had an ambition that would make any Slytherin envious. In a way, she was similar to Granger. Both of them were kind and loved by most of her peers."

"What is this?" I asked, picking up the notebook and opening it. Inside, I noticed various notes regarding the instructions of potions I have never heard or read before.

"That is your mother's notebook." Snape answered, "Out of all her subjects, Potions and Charms were what she did best in. Inside are a variety of potions and charms that she had created herself. If she had ever wanted to, she could have easily taken the wizarding world by storm with her ideas."

In awe, I began to tentatively flip through the pages. My mother's handwriting was neat and orderly. The words transcribed onto the paper could easily be read. In fact, most of the notes she had written were simple and easy to understand. A thought crossed my mind and I asked Snape, "Why do you have this?"

"I..." He paused, "...was tasked by the Headmaster to give this to you. He believed it would be best if you were given this."

"Thank you." I breathed out suddenly, surprising myself.

"Do not thank me, Potter. I do not deserve it. You are free to leave. Do not forget what we have talked about."

I tore off the invisibility cloak from my form, revealing myself to my sworn enemy. Lord Voldemort's expression of utter shock brought an ounce of humor within me, but I quelled that in favor of focusing at the task at hand. Using the surprise to my advantage, I blasted the disarming charm from my wand. A bolt of lightning-like red energy emerged from the tip of my catalyst, striking at the Dark Lord that was only meters away. He raised his own wand to quickly bring up a shield, but it was far too late for the bastard. The disarming charm struck his hand, making it jerk upward from the force. His wand was sent flying, hurtling it towards myself. I raised my left hand and caught in mid-air, a feat that was made easy due to my well-trained seeker reflexes.

"Potter!" Voldemort snarled at me, "I thought you dead!"

His striking, red eyes glared heavily down upon me with sheer malice. I could not blame him for his surprise, but I had thought that he would have been less pathetic to go about it. However, I was just as surprised to find out that I had lived through the killing curse yet again. I could still recall the taste of the afterlife and how I met my own mother and father again. They had encouraged me to live and to continue on with my life. I had wanted to tell them that I had nothing worth living for. I had wanted to tell them that the woman that I came to realize too late I was in love with was already dead. I had no one left. The rest of those I knew could move on, even Sirius, whom had fallen in love, had someone else. They could all do without me.

However, it would have been too selfish of me to give up then, not when I had a second chance. I have to get rid of a blight that plagued the world that I came to call home. Voldemort had to be defeated and no one save for myself could destroy him for good. His very existence ensured that the cycle of death and destruction made from bias would continue. Though his annihilation would not cease the problems that the magical world may have, it was the first step towards the right direction.

"How utterly foolish, Potter!" Voldemort cried out, a venomous sneer quivering on his lips, "I am immortal. I will come again as a wraith if you strike me down now."

I looked at him with contempt. His arrogance annoyed me to no end. Even as the Battle of Hogwarts raged around us with the forces of Light gaining the upper hand, Voldemort still believed himself to be infallible. His greatest follower, Bellatrix Lestrange, was laying dead upon the dirt leading up to the steps of the castle in an undignified manner. Dolohov, Rookwood, and Rosier had been easily quelled from the combined might of Sirius, Remus, and Tonks. Fenrir Greyback had been torn asunder from the trickery of the Weasley twins and their father. All of Voldemort's most powerful tools were either dead or have been defeated. Most important of all, his horcruxes, including the one within me, were destroyed.

"Your incessant prattling is your downfall!" I insulted him, "Your horcruxes are gone and your followers have been defeated. Your reign ends here."

An insidious smirk appeared on his snake-like visage, "You are nothing more than a blind sycophant of Dumbledore's teachings. Even if I were to lose here, I would still live, it is that very philosophy that Dumbledore practices that will allow me to thrive. Do your wo-"

"Avada Kedavra."

I summoned all of the hatred that I had; the darkness that always threatened to consume my very soul if I were to ever tap into its power. For this one day, I would allow it to take control of me and destroy my nemesis. I used the hatred I had for him, for killing my parents. I used the hatred for my relatives, for shunning me and making me live in squalor. I used the hatred I had for Dumbledore, for playing me like a fool and leading me like a lamb to slaughter. But, most of all, I used the hatred I had for fate, for killing my best friend, for forcing me to become a killer, and for using me for its own sick ends.

A sickening crack reverberated from my wand. A torrent of energy spilled from the end of it, oozing a plasma-like form of the malice I had and endured. It shot out from my wand like a bolt of lightning, its color was as green as my eyes. It weaved through the air, cutting through it like butter. The curse collided with the Dark Lord's chest causing the entirety of the spell to completely overwhelm him. The energy traveled throughout his entire form like a wave being created from a ripple in the water. His body shuddered forcefully until the last vestige of the curse disappeared. My enemy, the thing that had caused me endless suffering since I was a child fell to the floor.

Tom Riddle was dead.

"I'm glad you answered my letter, Harry." Dumbledore greeted me as I entered his office. He gestured for me to sit in the chair in front of his desk which I obliged graciously. A warm smile formed at his lips as he settled onto his own seat, "How have you been? Last I heard of you, you were traveling throughout Europe. The Weasleys have mentioned that you hardly answered their letters."

"It can't be helped." I answered his silent question, "I don't stay in one place for too long so it's hard for me to get their letters in time. Although, I just sent Hedwig a letter to them a few days ago saying I'll be staying in Britain indefinitely this time."

A look of surprise appeared on Dumbledore's grandfatherly features, "I see. I take it that you are accepting my proposal, Harry?"

I sported a boyish grin, "That I am, Headmaster. My travels to North America and through Europe allowed me to acquire the knowledge needed to be qualified for the position. It would be good to put what I learned to good use."

"Indeed, it would certainly help I and the students of Hogwarts with your appointment as the new Potions professor. Never would I have wagered you would choose that profession when you have been younger."

"I would never have thought so myself. But, people change. I'm different than how I had been when I was in Hogwarts, Headmaster. Surely you weren't always the wise, old Headmaster as you were when you had been a student here correct?"

Dumbledore chuckled, "All too true, Harry. Well, then can I assume that you would like to start this coming school year?"

"Yes, but I do have one request."

"What is that? I will accommodate you as much as I can."

My lips curled into a sly smile, "I would also like to have the resources available to conduct my own research. Will that be acceptable?"

"By all means! I will ensure that your request is granted."

Though I may not have forgiven Dumbledore for his part in my life, it would do no good to be consumed by the grudge I held. At worst, I was merely civil with the Headmaster. He did not need to know how much I loathed him for enacting the plan that would have had me killed.

We soon parted and I descended down the spiral staircase that led to his office. As I walked through the empty halls of Hogwarts, my mind reeled back to the days where all was well. Around me, the ghostly images of students rushing to their next classes surrounded me. As I looked to my left, I saw Hermione sporting her knowing smile as she held onto my hand, urging me to hurry. To my right, Ron laughed alongside the two of us, more amused than anything that we were running late. Then once I blinked again, the memory faded. Ron had grown up, becoming a responsible young man with a family of his own that he was soon making. Hermione was still gone, buried in a cemetery far away from where I stood. We can never go back to those days where everything had been perfect.

I sighed and continued walking, my steps echoing in the barren corridor.

"An auror? Is that really what you want to be?" Hermione asked me incredulously as she settled onto the common room sofa. She scooted towards me, playfully setting her head upon my lap. We were both tired from our interview with McGonagall concerning our career paths; an event that had become more of a displeasure with Umbridge sitting in to "observe".

Grinning at Hermione's mischievous action, I took a strand of her bangs and twirled it lightly, "What's so bad about being an auror, Hermione?"

"For one, you're off chasing dark wizards and witches. You know how dangerous it is to have that as your chosen profession." Hermione stated plainly, closing her eyes as she enjoyed my playful touches, "Besides, a hero you may be, I think you are far more suited for a different role."

"Oh?" I asked her, curious, "Everyone says that I would be perfect for an auror. You know I'm a natural in DADA. Yet you, of all people, think I'm far more suited for a different profession? I find that highly impossible, Hermione."

"Honestly, Harry. Just don't be an auror just because everyone says you're perfect for it. You're much too gentle for that."

"Me? Gentle? You shouldn't be telling a bloke that. I am handsome, rugged, and full of bravado and danger!" I stated proudly, sticking out my chest.

Hermione giggled at my gesture, poking her finger onto my chest which caused it to deflate, "You're full of hot air is what it is. But, Harry, I think you would make a wonderful teacher. You're very patient and kind when it comes to helping others. I think if you're a professor at Hogwarts, you would be everyone's favorite! Maybe you should become a Potions master first and kick Professor Snape from his job."

"That wouldn't be too bad. I would be the Hero of Hogwarts if I managed to replace Snape from his position. What about you though? I heard you told Professor McGonagall you want to work at the Ministry."

"Well, that is one option. I actually don't know what I want to do. I want to work at the Ministry, but at the same time, I also want to be a healer, or maybe a professor here in Hogwarts, or perhaps even an auror myself. There's just so many possibilities out there that it's hard to narrow down what I really want."

"Knowing you, Hermione, you can be anything you want to be." I told her honestly. In truth, I could see Hermione doing every single one of those career choices and see her succeed in all of them, "Of course, if you somehow manage to become the Minister of Magic, would you still have time to be with your dear friend, Harry?"

"Of course!" Hermione quickly answered, "Whatever happens in the future, we'll always be together in some way or another."

"Good. I don't know what I would do without you, Hermione..."

Afterword: The prologue will only be in Harry's perspective only. The rest of the story will be in Third-Person under Hermione's perspective. I wanted to write a prologue that would be a little different from the rest of the story and thus, the point of view shifted to Harry and how he dealt with the events that arose after Hermione's death in the Department of Mysteries. I always wanted to write this story, but prior commitments of my other stories prevented me from doing so. Now that I have been given the chance, I have to admit I'm pretty excited. Anyway, each chapter after the prologue will take place within one year in Hogwarts. Hopefully, I will be able to finish the story by the end of November, but if it doesn't, then oh well! Thanks for taking the time to read this story!