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Hermione and Thor had said these little goodbyes so many times before when one or the other left for a mission or an assignment. But this time, there was a sense of urgency to it, and it was as if she was memorizing him with her fingertips and her lips. There was a fire to this kiss, a smoldering ember hungry for oxygen as if in fear that it might burn out.
“Do not worry, I shall return home before the sun rises. Don’t I always return to you?”
“Of course,” she replied with a small smile, something wistful flashing briefly in her eyes as she traced his jawline.
She kissed him one last time, and wrapped her arms around him, pressing her ear against his chest, listening briefly to the sound of his heartbeat before letting him go.
He grinned at her as she watched him disappear with Stormbreaker in a burst of bright colors. Her smile faded with the light. She stood for a moment, gazing at the spot where he’d been, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. Finally, with one last look, she turned and went back inside of the home they shared.
Hermione sat down at her desk and pulled out several sheets of parchment along with her quill and ink. She began to write with shaking hands, with tears spilling down her cheeks, staining the parchment and blurring the ink in spots. When she’d finished, there were three letters in front of her. She sealed them and sat for a moment, staring at them. A soft, sad chirp came from beside her as her black and silver kneazle, Persephone, rubbed her face against Hermione’s legs. In turn, she leaned down to scratch the top of her head between her ears, eliciting a rumbling purr. Persephone’s emerald eyes met Hermione’s deep brown ones and the two simply stared at each other for several moments before the kneazle chirped at her again, this time with a tone of sadness, having intuned her familiar’s own feelings. Hermione sighed heavily.
“It’s time for me to go, Persephone. Take care of him, he will need you.”
She knelt to give Persephone one last chin scratch and planted a soft kiss on the top of her head as the kneazle let out a sad meow in response. She sent her Patronus to carry messages to both Harry and Ron. Laying all three letters on the table, she then rose and picked up her wand. She took one last look around the home she and Thor had built together over the past several months, and at Persephone, her ever-faithful companion. With a sad smile, she closed the door and went out into the evening sunset of New Asgard. She closed her eyes and inhaled a deep breath of the crisp, salty, marine air with its comforting undertones of seagrass, pine, and driftwood. She opened her eyes to gaze upon New Asgard and her home one last time, her chest tightening as she disapparated.
She appeared with a pop just outside of St. Mungo’s. She walked through the door and signed in with the witch at the reception desk. A short time later, her name was called and she was taken to the fourth floor, the spell damage ward. Her Healer was there to greet her.
“Miss Granger,” she started gently, “You are here for your final visit with us.”
“Yes, it’s time,” she said, her voice wavering as her heart broke into jagged pieces inside her chest.
For all the years since the war, Hermione had carried a heavy secret. Bellatrix Lestrange had carved the name “mudblood” into her arm, but that wasn’t all that she had done. She’d laid a blood curse upon her as well… a ticking time bomb flowing through her veins; a most cruel and terrible thing. She had spent years researching and seeing numerous Healers, attempting to find a way to break it, but to no avail. The forbidden blood magic that had been used was of the darkest variety, and proved to be utterly unbreakable. All that could be done was to ease her transition with as little pain as possible, which was what brought her to St. Mungo’s.
“Are you sure there is no one you’d like me to reach out to?”
“No,” Hermione replied, “I’ve said my goodbyes and made the arrangements for… after. No one else should have to witness this. I know you’ve done all you can to try and prevent it but there’s still a chance that it will be somewhat… unpleasant. I would not want anyone that I love to remember me that way.”
“Understood,” the Healer replied, “but rest assured that you will not be alone, we will be with you the entire time.”
She was brought to a room with a comfortable looking bed and a chair by the window that overlooked the gardens below and the London skyline. As she changed into a hospital gown and folded her clothes neatly on the chair, she reflected on her journey that was ending here.
She remembered the beginning vividly, for how could she ever forget… the curse whispered against her ear with gleeful malice as the wretched name was carved into her skin with a dark blade, a tool for blood magic. From the moment she found her one true love, she would slowly begin to die. One year would be all she had, the time slipping away like sand through an hourglass, while she was powerless to stop it. Bellatrix intended for Hermione to never know peace, and for her loved ones to suffer as well. As a result, she had pushed most people away, doing her best to not get close enough to love, to hurt. Then she had taken the assignment that brought her to New Asgard, and her life changed forever when she met Thor.
She blinked back tears as the Healer and nurses began their work with gentle hands and comforting demeanors. Potions were given and IVs were placed, and there was gentle music playing softly in the background. She closed her eyes and relived her best memories as a means to both reflect and to distract from the searing fire in her veins as the hour crept closer. It was not nearly as bad as it was intended to be, thanks to the Healing team, but still painful nonetheless. She was momentarily caught between regret and relief. Regret for not having any of them here with her, at the end. But relief, knowing that none of them would have to watch her suffer and die.
Tears escaped from behind her closed eyelids and rolled down the sides of her face; her whole body tensed as the invisible flames intensified, every nerve ending alight and raw. She gritted her teeth and clenched her shaking fists at her sides. The last thing that she would recall was her Healer, placing a soothing hand gently on her shoulder and whispering that it was alright, the pain blurring at the edges as she slipped away into the mercy of darkness and nothingness.
Thor knew something was wrong the moment he stepped through the door upon returning home. Persephone was yowling, an inconsolable cry that reverberated throughout the house. And Hermione was gone. She was always there when he returned, it didn’t make sense. And then he saw the letters lying neatly on the table. One addressed to him, and the remaining two to Harry and Ron, her closest friends. He opened his letter with a sick feeling in his gut.
Dear Thor,
I must start out by saying that I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry. I love you more than anything, but I am not here because the moment I have dreaded for years has finally arrived. I have always been on borrowed time, since the moment I realized that I loved you. If there was any other way, I would have found it. I tried… I tried so very hard.
As you know, when I was fighting in the war with Harry and Ron, we were captured. I was tortured and mutilated, but the horrible scar on my arm wasn’t the only thing that Bellatrix left me with. She also cast a blood curse, one that ensured that I would never be able to hold onto true happiness. Once I opened my heart and found my true love, I would begin to die and my life would end (painfully) within a year. I’m sure now you can understand why at first, I did everything to push you away. I pushed most people away, because I knew that if I didn’t get close, I couldn’t hurt them.
I wish there had been another way, any other way, that would not have ended in my death, but blood magic runs the deepest of the dark arts. There is a reason it is forbidden. In my case, the curse was irreversible.
You have lost so much in your life, and it is unbearable to know that you must again lose someone else that you love. However, it was even more unbearable to think that you might have to witness my passing. I did not want that for you, you have seen too much death in your life. I have not left you entirely alone though. I am leaving Persephone with you. Kneazles are very particular, and she quite likes you. Take care of her, you will need each other.
I have sent Patronus messages to both Harry and Ron. Please bring them their letters when you are ready. I have already made all of the arrangements, so there is nothing for you to worry about with regards to that. I would like to have my ashes scattered near our home, so that I might always be close to you.
I love you with all my heart,
Hermione
The world came crashing down around him and a deep anguish washed over him like a tidal wave. Suddenly he was drowning again, just as he had after losing his family. Hermione had been a bright light in the darkness, and now she was gone too and he was alone again. He wanted to be angry that she had kept this from him and left him behind, but the weight of sorrow and the gravity of his grief as the scar tissue of old wounds reopened, was enough to all but extinguish it.
As he stood there, in shock and unsure of what to do, he felt something soft brush against his leg. He looked down to find Persephone, gazing up at him with eyes full of anguish to match his own. She let out a mournful, pitiful yowl. He crouched down to stroke her head and she leaned into his touch as if she was starved for it. He sat all the way down on the floor and let her crawl into his lap. As he stroked her soft fur, she got up on her hind legs, placed her front paws on his chest, and rubbed her head under his chin. And that was what did him in. He hugged the little creature to his chest and wept into her soft, dark fur. She didn’t squirm or struggle, she burrowed herself into his arms and the two huddled there together for quite a while, sharing in their mutual despair.