AN: Okay, this plot bunny just jumped out of nowhere. I've seen similar formats like it, so I can't claim originality. I guess this could be anyone, but somehow I imagined it as Hermione. Don't get me wrong, I love SS/HG. So don't flame me for breaking them up. But constructive criticism is always welcome.
Disclaimer: Guess what? I don't own it! Anything you recognise is probably JK's. Or someone else's.
Sixty Seconds
Sixty seconds is nothing, isn't it?
He'd wake up in a minute.
Two, four.
She looked at the clock, then at his sleeping form.
Six, eight.
He looked so peaceful, so content.
Ten, twelve.
His outstretched arm still curled around her invisible form.
Fourteen, sixteen.
His lips curled into her favourite half-smile.
Eighteen, twenty.
Her heart filled with love as he dragged her invisible self to him.
Twenty-two, twenty-four.
How much pain would it cause him to wake to an empty bed?
Twenty-six, twenty-eight.
She turned her head as her eyes filled with tears.
Thirty, thirty-two.
And saw her children watching her from their frame.
Thirty-four, thirty-six.
Her two beautiful children, now lying in cold coffins, covered in black marks.
Thirty-eight, forty.
The same marks that had covered her for twenty years.
Forty-two, forty-four.
She walked towards the door, glancing at her table nearby.
Forty-six, forty-eight.
There was her note, folded neatly into four, hiding the ring of her slavery.
Fifty, fifty-two.
Taking one last look behind her, she hesitated.
Fifty-four, fifty-six.
Perhaps she could stay, just this time?
Fifty-eight.
Stuck between freedom and love, she looked at his sleeping form, then at the clock.
Sixty.
The clock struck.
Sixty-two.
Hermione Snape ran for her life.
In a minute, a world ends.