I don't usually write about this kind of thing. I just want everyone to know, suicide doesn't solve anything. It is a permanent solution to a usually temporary problem. Every human life is worth more than suicide. It takes nothing to end it, but it takes bravery to keep going. I read a fanfiction about this and nearly yelled at how it ended. This is just what showed up. I don't know if it will affect you emotionally, but I know when I write this, I put people that I know in as the characters and that brings tears to my eyes. I hope it doesn't make everyone cry. This is for everyone who gets left behind by those that just give up.
She can't do this. She just can't. He uses to love her. He uses to care. The bruises ache worse when she realize he hasn't cared in a long time. Every night he comes home drunk with the smell of another woman on him. Every night he's angry at her. Every night, she nearly dies. What's wrong with just dying? It isn't like someone will miss her. He has cut her off from all of her friends and family. He did that before the beating began. She didn't have the courage to stop him.
She limps out of his bedroom and walk over to the kitchen counter. On the clean counter sits that knife set he got for their first anniversary. When he still loved her. She ignores the screams of protest her arms give and reach for one of the newly sharpened blades. The steel gleams regretfully, almost like it knows. She looks into it and sees dull brown eyes looking back at her from a bruised and cut face. Those eyes are dry. They haven't been able to feel anything for a long time.
She takes the knife and sits at the kitchen table, the sheets of paper already stacked for use. Hesitantly, she reaches for the blue pen and begins writing.
I'm so sorry. The years have passed and I don't even remember what you look like. You are probably wondering why you're hearing from me now. I'm sorry it's been so long. I dreamed last night. I dreamed of our adventures together and how happy we were. I wish I could remember what that feels like too.
Ron is fine. I've kept him fed and cleaned his house. He was very happy when I gave up my Ministry job, upon his insistence. I just want you to know he is a bastard, and I'm sorry I didn't marry someone else. I haven't been bruise free in five years. I've lost four children from the beatings. I tried to fight him the first time, but he broke my wand. I'm as good as a muggle now. I'm sorry I let him cut us off from one another. Please let Ginny know that I have always considered her a younger sister. I loved her as such.
I use the pasted tense because by the time you receive this letter, I will have permanently escaped my destiny as a punching bag. I love you, Harry. I loved you more than I ever loved Ron. It just wasn't romantic love. You were my brother.
Ironic, isn't it? You escaped the abuse of your childhood, and I gained my abuse by marrying in my adult life. If I could, I would laugh, but I haven't felt anything in two years.
Tonight, I will leave this world and join our friends in the next. I'll tell Lupin and Tonks that Teddy misses them.
I know how you always felt about killing yourself, and I have to ask you not to use the resurrection stone. I don't want to be here. Here, I get forced to bare the beatings and act like everything is okay.
Let Ginny read this. She has a right to know what her brother really is.
I don't have the strength to fight, Harry. I can't.
PS I don't want his last name on my head stone. Take care of the funeral arrangements for me.
Hermione looked over the letter a decided that it was good enough. She put the letter into an envelope and set it to the side after addressing it. Looking at the last letter she would write, Hermione picked up the pen one last time.
You once said that Weasley would mistreat me. You were right. I'm sorry I didn't choose you. I would have been much happier. He has killed me, love. My heart has been cold for two years. It's been going on for five. I know you never married, claiming to wait for your love. I'm sorry I couldn't answer you.
I love you, Blaise. I wish I had taken your last name.
Even though I will no longer be alive, I will always love you and watch over you.
I'm sorry I let my friends talk me out of what we both wanted. You were my only intellectual match. I should have known we would be best, no matter what else was said.
He broke my wand four and a half years ago. I am basically a muggle now. He made me give up everything, and I did because I thought that he loved me. He has another woman every night while he drinks. I can't take it anymore. I made a mistake. It hurt you.
I only wanted to say goodbye. You deserve that at the least. I wish I could have spent my life showing you how much I love you.
Don't let Ron put his last name on my headstone. I don't want it. I wanted yours.
Tears streamed down her swollen face as she sealed the letter and called two of Ron's 'fan-owls' over to deliver them. She directed them and watched them leave the house before walking to the bathroom and sitting down in the tub with the knife. She had worn a tank top, showing a large collection of bruises up and down her arms and torso.
The phone rang in the background, and Hermione smiled. It was time. Lifting the blade to her lips, Hermione kissed it and whispered, "Thank you." Gently she places the blade at the bend of her arm and pushes down, dragging the blade to her hand. The red blood wells up, but she only smiles. Swapping the stained blade to the other hand, she shakily copied the same deep cut into her right arm. With a clatter, she dropped the blade to the tile and leaned back with a smile. The letters wouldn't let Ron just get rid of her body. Everyone would know. His life was over, just like hers. The blood flowed from her arms in streams and filled up the plugged tub. The beaten woman glanced out the open door and saw her wedding picture mounted on the wall. Ron was holding her close and they were both smiling.
The image burned itself into her memory, and she continued to look at it even as darkness crept into her vision. She smiled and let her eyes close and her head fall back. The image stayed in her mind, but a change was made. Red hair became black locks. Pale, freckled skin darkened to olive. Crooked yellowed teeth morphed into straight white. Instead of only slightly looking down at her, the man grew taller. Finally, light blue eyes darkened to sapphire with an intelligent gleam. In Hermione's perfect wedding picture, she stood in Blaise Zabini's arms. They were both smiling with love shining in their eyes.
The image stayed with Hermione as her heart slowed, and the blood stopped gushing. With her last breath, Hermione whispered, "I'll wait for you."
Her heart stopped.
The blood stopped.
Hermione Granger Weasley, the brightest witch of her age, the brains of the Golden Trio, had lost the battle that she had no intention of winning.
Hermione Jean Granger, was dead.
The body slowly lost its heat, and her eyes turned glassy.
It was only a few hours later that the sound of a wizard apparating in sounded through the quiet house.
The wizard appeared in the middle of the Weasleys and looked around franticly. His blue eyes searched every place they could as his heart pounded in fear. That was when he saw the lone light cast by the bathroom light. Hesitantly, scared of what he would find, the wizard walked towards the small room. He prayed to whatever god was listening that there was still time, that he could save her. Pushing the wooden door fully open, he gasped and a sob escaped.
The corpse of Hermione lay in the tub, skin pale, face turned towards the door with a small smile frozen upon her bruised lips. Sadness flooded the wizard and he fell to his knees, tears slowly running unchecked down his sculpted face. He stayed like that for some time, not really sure how to accept what was lying before him.
The slamming of a door forced him out of the shocked state. A loud, drunken voice yelled out, "Where are you, Bitch?"
Fury replaced the bone deep horror and grief and the blue eyes of the wizard flashed. He grabbed his wand and stood up jerkily. The voiced yelled out again, "Where the hell are you, Bitch! It's only going to be worse the longer I have to look for you."
At those words, something snapped inside the wizard, something that had held him back. His heart was already broken. It had been broken for many years, but now the pieces had been shattered. The wizard stepped out of the bathroom and looked at the drunken Weasley in hatred.
Ronald was so far gone with alcohol; he failed to see the tight grip the man had on his wand or the death glare in his blue eyes. Ron only cared that there was a man in his house. Ron lifted his wand at the man, "Zabini, what are you doing in my house? Having a go at my whore? I don't much like that. Get out and where is the bitch?"
Blaise watched Ron for a moment before speaking, "What made you do it?"
Ron looked at him in drunken confusion, "What the bloody hell are you on about?"
Blaise narrowed his dark blue eyes and repeated, "What made you do it?"
Ron snorted, "Stop repeating that. I don't know what you mean."
Blaise lost it and sneered, "You've never known anything. You only care about food and booze. You are a disgusting example of pure blood wizards. I'll ask only once more. What made you beat her?"
Ron laughed stupidly, "She didn't much like me having my share of women. Even though I know she was screwing half the male population of Europe. She tried to threaten to leave me. I just did what seemed right. I was angry. She was here. Why not hit her?"
Blaise ground his teeth in a futile attempt to keep his temper, "She was your wife, you blood traitor."
Ron laughed again, "Am I a blood traitor for marrying a Mudblood?"
Blaise snarled, "No, you're a blood traitor for beating a good woman to death!"
Ron snorted, "I never killed her."
Blaise glared at him in barely controlled anger. If Weasley didn't watch it, the few strings restraining Blaise's temper. His words came out with a growl, "You killed your children though, didn't you? You killed her heart. You beat her within an inch of her physical life. You are a bloody bastard, Ron Weasley. You never deserved her, and God only knows why she married you."
Ron leered at him, "Why? Did you want the whore?"
Blaise looked over his shoulder and tears came back to his eyes, and he crocked, "I wanted Hermione with every fiber of my being. I wanted her to bare my children. I wanted to make love to her every day and night for the rest of our lives. I wanted to laugh with her. I wanted to support her. I wanted to marry her. I already loved her."
Ron laughed at him, "Love is for idiots. Women are just a pussy to screw."
Blaise turned his head slowly to look at the man, and his temper exploded.
"Immobulus." Ron froze, his wand by his side.
"Expelliarmus." The wand went flying.
Blaise glared at the red haired Weasley, "Because of you, the woman I love is laying in a tub of her own blood, dead. I gather I have an hour and a half before Potter and the Ministry show up."
Ron glared at Zabini, his words not registering. Blaise continued, "I had the displeasure of receiving her last letter about half an hour ago. Imagine my horror, to come and see the beaten corpse of the woman I had planned to marry."
Blaise stalked towards Ron, and his voice lowered, "I'm going to pay you back for a fraction of what you did to her. Then, you are going to spend the rest of your life in Azkaban. Crucio!"
Mind boggling pain screamed through Ron's mind and he tried so hard to scream. Blaise held the curse for a minute before releasing it and glaring at Ron, "That was for one hour of her life. Let's go visit my love, shall we?"
Blaise stood back and spoke, "Mobilicorpus." Ron floated into the bathroom and looked down at the corpse, and he slightly sobered up.
Blaise walked in and chocked back a sob at the sight of her before turning back to Ron in a larger fury, "This is what you did, you bastard. Crucio! You deserve every second of pain, and more. Crucio!"
Ron's mouth stayed tightly shut, but the muffled sounds of his screams reached Blaise's ear, causing the Italian to smile darkly.
Blaise held the curse for a few moments and just watched in a strange mixture of joy, vengeance, and grief as the man suffered. He only had an hour left.
For nearly an hour Blaise continued to torture Ron with many ancient curses from all over the world. Sometime during the torture, Ron gained the ability to scream, and scream he did.
Ron was drenched in sweat when Blaise released him from Immobulus. Ron gasped for breath before glaring up at the Italian wizard. Blaise smirked down at him before summoning Ron's wand and casting, "Imperio."
The curse worked just like the books said it would. Ron suddenly became Blaise's living puppet. With his wand, Blaise directed Ron to pick up the knife and hold it, thus leaving his finger prints all over it. Using magic that hadn't been used in years, Blaise implanted memories within Ron's mind of the Weasel forcing Hermione to write Harry the letter and then kill herself. When her body wouldn't let her cut the other arm, Ron did it.
After finishing his work, Blaise called out, "Stupefy."
Ron was instantly knocked unconscious. Blaise then levitated the body into the bedroom. He walked back into the bathroom and knelt by the tub, "Why didn't you come to me, amore moi? I would have saved you. I would have loved you! I always will. I'll meet you again someday, and we will have the live we couldn't have here. Goodbye, Hermione Jean Zabini. I will love you always." He apparated away.
A few moments later, Harry Potter and many Aurors appeared at the door. They looked around for only a few minutes before one of the new Aurors called out, "I found her, Lord Potter. It isn't pretty."
Harry looked at the man in sorrow, "We were too late?"
The young man nodded solemnly, "By a few hours, Lord Potter."
Harry shook his head, trying to fight back the tears, "Where is Mr. Weasley?"
The Aurors only had to look around for a moment before they found the fallen war hero passed out in bed, his wand lying beside him.
Harry glared down at the man and kicked him. Ron shot up off of the bed and screamed, "How dare you disturb me while I'm sleeping, Bitch!"
Harry recoiled at the phrase and said, "She wasn't lying."
The Aurors arrested Ron Weasley and while they were taking him away, Harry cast Prior Incantato on Ron's wand and saw that it was the Imperious Curse. Harry looked down in horror before calling one of the men over and showing it to them. It was decided that someone would have to search Ron's mind. A young man named Willy was chosen once they were back at the headquarters, and Hermione's body had been taken care of.
It was declared that Ron Weasley was guilty of killing unborn children, forcing sexual favors from his wife, beating the same woman, casting the Imperious Curse, and murdering war hero Hermione Jean Granger as her name had been changed back to.
He was sentence unanimously to life in Azkaban prison. He would not be present at the funeral.
A few days passed before wizards and witches from all over the world gathered around a freshly closed grave. Victor Krum, Harry Potter, Minerva McGonagall, Neville Longbottom, Seamus Finnigan, Lavender Brown, George Weasley, Ginny Potter, Draco Malfoy, and Blaise Zabini stood at the front of the large crowd. Tears glittered in their eyes because she hadn't come to them. She hadn't asked for their help.
She had left them behind.
She hadn't trusted some enough.
She hadn't had enough confidence in some.
She hadn't learned enough about some.
She hadn't loved one enough to ask.
Her pride made the last decision.
She was lost to them until they joined her in death.
Time continued to go by and one by one the crowd dispersed until only Harry Potter and Blaise Zabini were left to look down at the headstone.
The silence seemed too heavy, so Harry spoke the words he had been keeping in since he had seen the Slytherin. "I wish I had supported the two of you instead of pushing her to Ron."
Blaise ignored the Hero of the Light and continued to look at the words engraved on the stone. Harry looked at the man and continued, "I'm sorry for all of the things we put the two of you through."
Blaise once again ignored the wizard. Harry sighed, "You aren't going to speak at all?"
Blaise was quiet for a few moments before slowly turning his head and looking at the man beside him for the first time that day, "There is nothing to say. She's gone."
Those words hang heavy in the air as they stabbed Harry in the heart. Blaise took one last look at the headstone of the woman he loved before turning and walking away, grief weighing heavy upon his own heart.
Harry stayed at the tombstone for only a moment more. "I'm sorry I wasn't there, Hermione. I'm even sorrier that you didn't end up with him."
Harry turned and walked away and the bleak sky began to cry, just like the wizard community was doing for that one woman. The woman that thought no one would miss her. She ended everything, when she was surrounded by people that would have helped her. She broke the heart of the only man who ever truly loved her. She left them there, to mourn alone.
Water gathered within the carved letters in the stone and the effect was haunting. It read, in crying letters:
Here lies Hermione Jean Granger
May she always be remembered and loved by all.
Never again shall Hell touch the Angel of Knowledge,
For she is safe within her Father's hands.
That turned out a bit darker that I expected it to, but it was an experiment with angst. Yes there was a message behind this one-shot. Suicide causes more problems than it solves, and there are usually other answers out there. Suicide breaks more hearts than it heals.
I also love the BlaiseXHermione ship and he seemed the most likely to lose it in that way, so we had that wonderful little ship. I thought about not having the headstone, but after she had that last wish, I just had to include it. This will most likely be the only heavy angst piece that I do, so let me know what you think of it.
Please Review and remember that Suicide Is Never the Answer!