"Do you believe in God, Hermione?": Gryffindors#1
Title: "Do you believe in God, Hermione?"
Claim: Gryffindors
Prompt: God, Table#1
Rating: PG-13 for some language and dark imagery.
Pairings: mention of Remus/Tonks
Summary: Harry needs Hermione's ear, written for hpfanfic10x10
Warnings: Side characters' death, Angst
Word count: ~700
Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.
RF's note: All comments appreciated!
“Do you believe in God, Hermione?”
The bushy-haired girl blinked in confusion as she stood in the doorway of the girls’ dormitory. “Harry… what’s going on?” she asked in a worried tone, drawing her robe tighter about herself. “It must be three in the morning.”
Harry looked down, fidgeting, and said nothing. His glasses were askew on his face, his hair messier than ever; he struggled to keep a wand pointed at his own feet, holding himself up with a levitating charm lest the dormitory stairs attack him.
Hermione frowned, setting a hand on her hip and employing her trademark bossy tone. “It’s the middle of the night, and obviously something was important enough for you to charm yourself to be able to make it up the stairs and ask philosophical questions. What is going on?”
Finally, the boy looked up. “Do you believe in God, Hermione?” he repeated at a whisper, and a single tear trickled down his cheek.
Stunned by the desperation in Harry's eyes, the girl followed him into the common room.
“I talk to Him every day,” Harry stated once Hermione took her usual place on the couch. She could tell that the boy was agitated. He paced, and she could see a hint of madness in his stride.
“Every day,” repeated Harry, with a pleading note in his voice, “every day I talk to Him and beg for Him to tell me how to fulfill my destiny.”
Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but Harry cut her off. “He talks back sometimes,” he laughed humorlessly.
“At least, I imagine Him talking back.” Harry rolled his eyes at himself. “The bastard sounds way too much like fucking Dumbledore, saying all the wrong things.”
The witch’s mouth snapped shut. She stared at her friend, seeing all the signs of hysterical insanity in him. She whimpered.
“You’re all I have, Hermione,” continued Harry. “You and Ron, Ginny and Remus − you’re all that’s left for me, and every day I beg for God to keep you safe, and every morning after a night of terrible visions I thank Him for not failing me. I thank God,” the boy smiled bitterly, “that someone else’s life was taken, not one of me or mine.”
A suddenly terrified shiver ran down Hermione’s spine.
Harry turned desperate eyes on his friend. “Every night,” he yelled, “in the silence of my bed, I plead with Him, asking if it was my fault that my parents died… asking if I could have saved Cedric and Sirius from their deaths. Was it some grand design? Was it God’s fucking design to rob me of everyone I love?! And if it was, then why, why do I deserve such a fate? What have I done to have this done to me?!”
Then, in a single moment, all fire seemed to go out of him, and he collapsed on the floor before Hermione’s seat.
“I saw Remus and Tonks get killed tonight,” Harry whispered, and Hermione stifled a pained gasp.
Tears streamed suddenly from the boy’s clouded emerald eyes. “They were making love,” he cried. “They were making love when the bastard of a snake appeared.”
Harry’s body was shaking with sobs. “He tortured her and made him watch,” he spat out, “and then he killed them both.”
Tears crawled unbidden down Hermione’s face. “Maybe it was just a dream,” she whispered, knowing she could not dare hope.
“No.” Harry shook his head. “I felt their pain. I was in the git’s head. It was a vision. It was real. So I have to know…” his eyes were terrible - wide and haunted, with a touch of pained hysteria - as they burrowed into Hermione’s, “…do you believe in God, Hermione? You are the smartest witch I know; tell me, tell me if God exists. Tell me why He failed to hear my prayer.” The boy’s voice broke. “Tell me why He let them die,” he pleaded at a whisper. “And most of all, tell me, lie to me, and tell me that they’ve moved on to a better place.”
The boy’s eyes went lifeless. Collapsing, Harry laid his head in his best friend’s lap, and wept.
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Please click on the tag for more gryffindor-centric short stories!
Claim: Gryffindors
Prompt: God, Table#1
Rating: PG-13 for some language and dark imagery.
Pairings: mention of Remus/Tonks
Summary: Harry needs Hermione's ear, written for hpfanfic10x10
Warnings: Side characters' death, Angst
Word count: ~700
Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.
RF's note: All comments appreciated!
“Do you believe in God, Hermione?”
The bushy-haired girl blinked in confusion as she stood in the doorway of the girls’ dormitory. “Harry… what’s going on?” she asked in a worried tone, drawing her robe tighter about herself. “It must be three in the morning.”
Harry looked down, fidgeting, and said nothing. His glasses were askew on his face, his hair messier than ever; he struggled to keep a wand pointed at his own feet, holding himself up with a levitating charm lest the dormitory stairs attack him.
Hermione frowned, setting a hand on her hip and employing her trademark bossy tone. “It’s the middle of the night, and obviously something was important enough for you to charm yourself to be able to make it up the stairs and ask philosophical questions. What is going on?”
Finally, the boy looked up. “Do you believe in God, Hermione?” he repeated at a whisper, and a single tear trickled down his cheek.
Stunned by the desperation in Harry's eyes, the girl followed him into the common room.
“I talk to Him every day,” Harry stated once Hermione took her usual place on the couch. She could tell that the boy was agitated. He paced, and she could see a hint of madness in his stride.
“Every day,” repeated Harry, with a pleading note in his voice, “every day I talk to Him and beg for Him to tell me how to fulfill my destiny.”
Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but Harry cut her off. “He talks back sometimes,” he laughed humorlessly.
“At least, I imagine Him talking back.” Harry rolled his eyes at himself. “The bastard sounds way too much like fucking Dumbledore, saying all the wrong things.”
The witch’s mouth snapped shut. She stared at her friend, seeing all the signs of hysterical insanity in him. She whimpered.
“You’re all I have, Hermione,” continued Harry. “You and Ron, Ginny and Remus − you’re all that’s left for me, and every day I beg for God to keep you safe, and every morning after a night of terrible visions I thank Him for not failing me. I thank God,” the boy smiled bitterly, “that someone else’s life was taken, not one of me or mine.”
A suddenly terrified shiver ran down Hermione’s spine.
Harry turned desperate eyes on his friend. “Every night,” he yelled, “in the silence of my bed, I plead with Him, asking if it was my fault that my parents died… asking if I could have saved Cedric and Sirius from their deaths. Was it some grand design? Was it God’s fucking design to rob me of everyone I love?! And if it was, then why, why do I deserve such a fate? What have I done to have this done to me?!”
Then, in a single moment, all fire seemed to go out of him, and he collapsed on the floor before Hermione’s seat.
“I saw Remus and Tonks get killed tonight,” Harry whispered, and Hermione stifled a pained gasp.
Tears streamed suddenly from the boy’s clouded emerald eyes. “They were making love,” he cried. “They were making love when the bastard of a snake appeared.”
Harry’s body was shaking with sobs. “He tortured her and made him watch,” he spat out, “and then he killed them both.”
Tears crawled unbidden down Hermione’s face. “Maybe it was just a dream,” she whispered, knowing she could not dare hope.
“No.” Harry shook his head. “I felt their pain. I was in the git’s head. It was a vision. It was real. So I have to know…” his eyes were terrible - wide and haunted, with a touch of pained hysteria - as they burrowed into Hermione’s, “…do you believe in God, Hermione? You are the smartest witch I know; tell me, tell me if God exists. Tell me why He failed to hear my prayer.” The boy’s voice broke. “Tell me why He let them die,” he pleaded at a whisper. “And most of all, tell me, lie to me, and tell me that they’ve moved on to a better place.”
The boy’s eyes went lifeless. Collapsing, Harry laid his head in his best friend’s lap, and wept.
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Please click on the tag for more gryffindor-centric short stories!