Chapter Text
The war was over but at what cost? Hermione looked around the barren land. Bodies were scattered everywhere. The Chosen One’s body lay crumpled into a small heap across from the fallen Dark Lord. During the battle, both wizards cast the killing curse and fell at the same time. It was over in a flash and everyone watched, hopeful for the Boy Who Lived to survive again. But when he didn’t move in over a minute, a deep sadness washed over the crowd as they tried to make peace with the outcome. Hermione couldn’t help but feel betrayed. She was so certain he would live through this, everyone was.
She shook her head, clearing her thoughts of any recollections. A little ways away, towards the center of the destroyed great hall, Ron’s body lay half crushed under a stone pillar. The ginger was violently flung backward into the foundation when he stabbed Nagini with the Basilisk fang. The Weasleys had moved Fred’s body near his brother’s body so the remaining family could grieve the boys. It seemed to Hermione, who was actively surveying the damage and looking for any remaining survivors, that every action had an adverse effect. All around her, there were bodies laying across from the other. It was almost funny that in the end, the light and dark both died together. She could see it so clearly now, even when victorious, war never had a good outcome.
“Remus!” A blood curdling scream penetrated the eerie silence.
Hermione followed the sound and came across Tonks. Except, the normally fiery woman was crouched over the body of her dead husband. She hung her head low. There were many others mourning their dead loved ones. Though the light was able to secure its slim victory, there would be no commemorative celebrations for many years to come. The war destroyed the hearts and souls of both sides as the number of survivors dwindled by the hour.
Madame Pomfrey and Andromeda Tonks were busy hurrying between the injured. Each woman only had time to apply minimal bandages, spells, and potions before placing small wards and moving to the next patient. Unfortunately, many were in a critical condition that wasn’t stabilized in the short window the nurses had for each person.
The final battle was a bloodbath. Hermione looked around as she noted who survived from each side. As she scanned the great hall, she briefly made contact with shielded, black eyes. When Bellatrix’s gaze met her own, the Golden Girl could sense a deep anger swell from deep within the witch. She quickly looked away, deciding to step out into the courtyard for a change in scenery. But this had been a mistake. The bodies of Harry and Voldemort lay untouched in the middle, surrounded by heaps of bodies and fallen stones.
Hermione felt her eyes sting and her vision began to blur as she approached the two bodies. Disregarding the other, she knelt down to Harry and lightly touched his face with her hand. Of course it was cold, but she had to make sure.
“Oh Harry, how could this have happened?”
They had done everything as Dumbledore advised, and yet, with the death toll rising, it was clear that this was no victory, but the decisive end to a long war. Hermione pressed a light kiss to Harry’s forehead. The sob she had been trying to conceal ripped forth from her lips, as she let out a desperate, heart wrenching wail. When she was finally able to stop the tears from spilling, Hermione began to remove the items from Harry’s pockets. She didn’t want any of his belongings to go to the auctioneers like the other fallen soldiers without known relatives. She would be the one to claim his most valued possessions, and only she would decide what was to be done with such objects.
Harry didn’t have much on his person at the time of his death. Hermione smiled sadly at the golden snitch Dumbledore left in his will. It was open and empty, revealing a small compartment. As she continued searching the body, she came across a small, smooth stone and the Elder Wand. She figured these were two of the three Deathly Hallows. Of course, Harry, being ever so cautious, left in his will that all belongings and property should go to Hermione if he didn’t survive the war.
“Hermione.” The Golden Girl’s head snapped around when she heard the unlikely voice. “Take the Deathly Hallows and keep them safe. Many people will try to come looking for them, but nobody knows that you are now the Master of Death.” Hermione frowned, even after his death, Harry was still cautioning her, worried for whatever lies ahead for his best friend in the wake of his death. He continued, “Listen carefully, I don’t have much time here. The Elder Wand didn’t belong to me when I was dueling Voldemort. I could feel its resistance, Hermione, and then I realized the mistake we made. Voldemort thought that when he killed Snape, ownership would pass onto him and I did as well until I saw my life flash before I died and recalled what truly happened. At Malfoy Manor, before we left with Dobby, you disarmed Draco… don’t you see? You’re the rightful owner of the Elder Wand because Draco disarmed Dumbledore and you disarmed Draco. Go live your life but be careful, there are still many others who will do you harm if the opportunity comes.”
Hermione could only gape dumbly as the image began to dissipate and Harry gave her one last smile. Well shit.