Sounds of Silence

Hello darkness, my old friend

I've come to talk with you again

Because a vision softly creeping

Left its seeds while I was sleeping

And the vision that was planted in my brain

Still remains within the sound of silence

She stared into the darkness, for two reasons. One, because she did not want to turn on a light, and two, because even if she did turn one on, it would do nothing to take the pain away. Exactly one year ago today, she really had lost everything she ever cared about. This house, once so alive with the sounds of people going about their daily lives, was now silent. If she concentrated, she could still see the people that lived, laughed and died here. But even that vision was as silent as the room that she stood in. She had hoped that paying some respects here would help, but it only made her realize all the more just what was missing.

In restless dreams I walked alone

Narrow streets of cobblestone

'Neath the halo of a street lamp

I turned my collar to the cold and damp

When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light

That split the night and touched the sound of silence

Hermione walked alone through the night, unable to remain even for a moment back in the Burrow, where the life had been sucked out of it's very foundation, now that the Weasley's had all gone. They were all either dead or missing. Only one was still accounted for, and he was incarcerated in St. Mungo's, having gone quite mad when he discovered his best friend had been killed. That was another painful thought. Harry Potter had died in the fight against Voldemort. He had been victorious in the end, having taken the evil wizard with him, but it was a bitter victory when they had finally found his body. Hermione had cried for a week. The rest of the redheaded family had died, or gone missing during the war. Including the youngest, and Hermione's best girlfriend, Ginny. That was the only death that Hermione had witnessed firsthand.

***

"They're coming through!" Someone screamed. Hermione ducked down behind the rubble wall that most of them had taken cover behind.

"I don't understand how they found us!" She cried. "This place was supposed to be unplottable."

"Does it really matter? They found it, and now we have to defend it." Ginny said, dusting off her wand. Someone leapt over the wall, and landed beside Ginny. She smiled grimly at the new arrival.

"Everything set, love?" She asked.

"Yeah. Dispersal charges in front of every entry point. But they'll only work once. We still haven't got them quite right." Draco Malfoy said, wiping his forehead.

"Better than nothing." Hermione said, as the last of the defence wards was broken.

"That's true. Right then, they'll be past the charges in a minute. Kiss for luck?" Malfoy said, raising a suggestive eyebrow at Ginny. She grinned and obliged. Hermione wished that Harry was here to kiss her for luck, but he wasn't. A second later, she had to break them apart.

"Oi. Break it up. They're nearly through." She hissed. They parted lips, but they were still holding hands and looking tenderly into each others eyes. Draco raised his voice so that everyone else could hear.

"Right troops! Attack!" Everyone who had been present at the base stood up and began hurling curses at the attacking Death Eaters. It was a long and particularly bloody battle, fortunately with mostly Death Eaters falling. But at one point, Hermione had become distracted in fighting off a barrage of curses from one side, and failed to notice the lone Death Eater pointing his wand at her. Until it was nearly too late.

"NO! HERMIONE!" She turned quickly to see Ginny hurl herself at her, knocking her off her feet, and taking the killing curse at a glancing blow. Malfoy quickly dispatched that Death Eater, and every other one in his way as he ran over to where Hermione was rolling Ginny off her.

"Ginny? Oh, no no, Ginny please...." The younger girl was still breathing, but it was laboured. She opened her eyes.

"Hermione. You're okay?"

"Yes. Why did you do that, Ginny?"

"You're my friend. I had too..." She trailed off, heaving a deep breath. "Tell Harry and Ron that I still love them." She whispered. Hermione wiped at her eyes, trying maintain eye contact with her as long as possible. Draco had reached them by then, kneeling next to Ginny's prone form.

"Ginny..." He moaned. She smiled a thin smile at him.

"Draco..." She reached up to touch his face, as he pulled her onto his lap. "I love you..."

She died quietly in his arms, while Hermione wept into her hands.

****

Draco had died a week after his fiancee did. He had proclaimed an oath of revenge against the Death Eaters, and he killed eleven of them before letting himself be killed. Then, two months later, it was all over. And she had lost her two best friends.

And in the naked light I saw

Ten thousand people, maybe more

People talking without speaking

People hearing without listening

People writing songs that voices never share

And no one dared Disturb the sound of silence

She turned a corner and nearly ran into a crowd of milling people. She blinked in the sudden light, reflecting off of a shiny new memorial, built to honour those who passed in the fighting. Harry's name was, no doubt, on the top of the thing. And Ginny's was probably near the bottom. How was something like that supposed to take the pain away. She looked around, at the people gathered around it. They were staring straight ahead, probably thinking the same thing she was. Whoever had built this, obviously had no idea what it was like to lose someone they loved, not to mention everyone they loved. She could hear vague murmuring coming from the crowd, but it was smalltalk. Nothing that had anything to do with what they were supposed to be remembering. And no one was listening to the talkers. Some people would do anything to not think about reality.

"Fools", said I, "You do not know

Silence like a cancer grows

Hear my words that I might teach you

Take my arms that I might reach you"

But my words, like silent raindrops fell

And echoed In the wells of silence

"Idiots." Hermione muttered. She apparated away, anywhere but the square in Diagon Alley where people were being stupid. She found herself standing outside the gates of Hogwarts. She shook her head a bit, but went in, heading for the gardens. Somewhere to think. She was staring at an azalia bed when she heard someone else enter the garden.

"Hello, Mrs. Potter." She smiled a little.

"Hello, Professor Dumbledore."

"You are not joining in the festivities?"

"No, sir. I'm not."

"May I ask why?"

"It's stupid. Dancing, and mucking about, to celebrate the end of one particularly malevolent being, when so many others died to bring it about. So many of my generation died fighting Voldemort. But no one seems to care about that."

"Ah, but they do. They care the other three hundred and sixty four days of the year. One day to celebrate victory is hardly a crime."

"But have you seen what those morons from the ministry have done? A huge stone memorial in the middle of Diagon Alley. After all they did for our world, people's sacrifices are put down to one name on a slab of stone. One among hundreds. It's so superficial. It makes me afraid of what's going to happen to their memory."

"What do you mean?"

"In ten years, are people just going to flock to that piece of stone, point at a familiar name and say, 'I thought that name was familiar. This is where I saw it.' Is all that Harry's done for this world going to be remembered as 'The name on the top of the stone'. It all seems like a way to satisfy the guilt for getting these people killed, and then forgetting about it."

And the people bowed and prayed

To the neon god they made

And the sign flashed out its warning

In the words that it was forming

And the sign said, "The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls

And tenement halls"

"I see. But, remember. People's accomplishments are not soon forgotten, as long as someone remembers. This stone memorial may be an outlet for some guilt. But it will serve a purpose. As for memories, you'll find that people will remember what they want to remember. And that is enough to keep those who have passed with us forever."

"But is just remembering enough. My husband is dead, professor. My daughter will never know her father. I don't think I can do justice to his memory. I don't think that just telling her the things I remember is going to enough. Not for her, and not for me."

"Write a book." Hermione turned to look at the elderly professor.

"What?"

"Write a book. Recount everything that ever happened, while you were in school, up until now. Get other people's opinions and memories about those events as well. Do it while you still feel like this, and while the memories are still painful. You will do Harry justice." His eyes twinkled at her, something that she hadn't seen in a very long time. She smiled again.

"Thank you, professor."

"Hope shines within us all, Hermione. Sometimes it just takes some silence to bring it out."

And whispered in the sounds of silence