Fading Light
The torches along the ancient Hogwarts corridors flickered softly as Hermione made her way to Lucian’s portrait, her footsteps echoing in the quiet hall. The air felt heavy, as if the castle itself was aware of the weight she carried in her heart. She had spent sleepless nights researching, hoping to defy the laws of magic, and though she had come to a painful understanding that Lucian could never fully return to her world, she couldn’t stop herself from seeking him out.
Her heart quickened as she approached the portrait. There he stood, or rather, he should have been standing, but tonight, Lucian’s image was dimmer than ever. His once-vibrant features had taken on a ghostly translucence, and for a moment, it felt as though he was slipping through her fingers like sand in an hourglass.
“Lucian?” Her voice cracked with worry, her fingers brushing the edges of the frame as if her touch alone could keep him there. “What’s happening?”
Lucian's figure wavered, like a reflection in rippling water. His platinum-blonde hair, once so bright against the painted backdrop of his portrait, now seemed to blur into the dark shadows. He looked up, his eyes filled with a sorrow that mirrored her own.
“It’s happening again,” Lucian said softly, his voice steady but resigned. “I’ve felt it for a while now… but it’s getting worse.”
Hermione’s stomach twisted with dread. She had noticed Lucian fading more and more over the past few days, but she had convinced herself it was nothing more than a trick of the light, a fleeting imperfection in the enchanted canvas. Now, though, she couldn’t deny what was happening.
She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. “Why is this happening? Is it—”
“It’s us, Hermione,” Lucian interrupted gently, his voice tinged with regret. “I think… I think our bond is causing this.”
Hermione’s heart pounded in her chest as the realization sank in. Their love, their growing emotional connection, the very thing that had brought them both comfort in the darkest times, was now becoming the reason for his slow disappearance. The thought was unbearable.
“I don’t understand,” she whispered, tears already forming in her eyes. “How could this be happening? Why would—?”
“It’s magic, Hermione,” Lucian explained, his voice heavy with the burden of his fading existence. “Portraits like mine were never meant to hold this kind of connection. They were meant to be reflections of the past, echoes of the people we once were. But you and I… we’ve gone beyond that. I’m not just an echo anymore, and that’s destabilizing the magic that holds me here.”
Hermione’s legs felt weak as she sank down to sit beneath the portrait, her back pressed against the cold stone wall. She wanted to cry, to scream, to curse the cruel twists of fate that had brought her to this moment. After everything they had been through, after all the nights of yearning and the days filled with unsaid words, this was how it was going to end?
Her fingers trembled as she wiped away a tear. “I can’t lose you. Not like this.”
Lucian knelt down in the frame, his form growing fainter with every passing second, but his gaze remained intense, filled with the same warmth that had drawn her to him all those weeks ago. “Hermione, you’ve already lost me once. You know that I’m not really here, not in the way you need me to be.”
“I don’t care,” Hermione shot back, her voice shaking with emotion. “I can’t just pretend that what we have isn’t real. I can’t pretend that I don’t love you.”
Lucian’s eyes softened, a look of deep affection crossing his face. “I know. And I love you, too. But if this keeps going… I’ll disappear for good.”
The weight of his words pressed down on her like a thousand stones. She had been so focused on finding a way to bring him back to her, she hadn’t even considered the possibility that her love—this bond that had grown between them—could be the very thing causing him to slip away. The thought tore her apart.
“There has to be another way,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “There has to be some kind of magic that can stop this.”
Lucian smiled, though it was a sad, resigned smile. “You’ve already tried everything, Hermione. You know better than anyone that there are some things even magic can’t fix.”
Hermione shook her head, refusing to accept the truth. She pressed her hand against the frame, her fingers tracing the outlines of the painted wood. “I won’t let this happen. I won’t let you disappear.”
But even as she said the words, she could feel the truth settling deep inside her. She had known, from the moment she first fell for him, that their love was doomed. Lucian wasn’t a man of flesh and blood anymore. He was a memory, trapped in paint and enchantments. No matter how strong their connection, it couldn’t change that simple, devastating fact.
Lucian’s form flickered again, and for a heart-stopping moment, he vanished completely from the portrait. Hermione’s breath caught in her throat, panic gripping her heart.
But just as suddenly, he reappeared, though even fainter than before.
“I don’t want to leave you,” Lucian admitted quietly, his voice trembling with an emotion she had rarely heard from him. “But I don’t think I have a choice.”
Hermione stood up, her hand still resting on the frame, as if she could pull him back to her through sheer force of will. “There has to be something we can do. I can’t just sit here and watch you fade away.”
Lucian shook his head slowly. “Sometimes, we have to let go of the things we love, even when it hurts more than anything.”
The words pierced her, cutting through her like a blade. She had fought so hard, risked so much, only to be faced with the one thing she couldn’t control—time. And now, time was slipping through her grasp, pulling Lucian away from her, little by little.
Tears streamed down her face as she leaned her forehead against the portrait, her voice barely more than a broken whisper. “Please don’t leave me.”
Lucian’s form shimmered again, his face softening with love and regret. “I’ll always be here, Hermione. As long as you remember me.”
But even as he said it, they both knew the truth: memory wasn’t enough.
The magic that held Lucian in place was fading, and with it, the man she had come to love. And as Hermione stood there, feeling the weight of his loss begin to consume her, she realized that no amount of magic could ever bring him back.