Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, and I only own the interpretation of my characters and the nearly nonexistent plot. Also, this is about Tom/Hermione, but at the same time, not really, at least not how you might expect. And before I forget, expect a creepiness factor.
Blink. Blink again.
Hermione blinks twice. In front of her, a professor, McGonagall, stares at her with her lips pulled in a severe line, a line so severe there is no more blood in her lips. Her lips are white, pale, like pillows, like ghosts, two little ghost bodies pressed against each other.
If she could, Hermione would smile, but the voice has told, no, hissed to her that she mustn't smile. So, of course, Hermione doesn't.
Hermione isn't sure why she does it, what the voice says, but the voice has been whispering to her as long as she can remember. She has known it longer than she has known anybody, even herself. In reality, Hermione thinks to herself, the voice is the only entity, being?, that knows her. It knows her dreams, her secrets, her sins. Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley, they don't know her as well as the voice does, as well as he does. Well, Hermione thinks the voice is a he. At least, it sounds like one…
"Hermione, Hermione," she hears McGonagall say above her. "Ms. Granger, are you alright?"
Look up now.
Hermione looks up through her lashes. Her eyes are wide pools overfilling with tears, just like they'd practiced. She's perfect; this moment is perfect. If it didn't ruin the moment, Hermione would beam. She really is perfect right now, and he must be proud. He must be. How couldn't he be, she thinks to herself feverishly. Suddenly the tears spill across her cheeks, and Hermione wonders if they look like little diamonds glistening in the sunlight.
Above her, McGonagall looks stricken. In this moment, Hermione sees the woman who has seen a war and death and continued despite it. Who did she lose, Hermione wonders absentmindedly. Do their ghosts still haunt her in the night?
Eventually, somebody pulls Hermione off the ground. They wrap her in a thin blanket. When they think she finally falls to sleep in the cot, they whisper about her, about what happened. They question how something so horrible could have happened. How could Dumbledore let something like this happen-
"Madam Pomfrey," McGonagall says sharply, "Tragedy befalls everybody indiscriminately. It is not Dumbledore's fault any more than it is Ms. Granger's or Mr. Potter's or Mr. Weasley's." McGonagall's voice is strong, but Hermione hears the age in her voice. Surely Madam Pomfrey does as well.
Hermione opens her eyes just a little to see Madam Pomfrey's frowning face. Then she falls back into sleep, lulled by the whispering voice.
You did so very well, Dearest. So very well. All is going according to plan.
When Madam Pomfrey sees the smile on Hermione's face, she feels very heavy. All she wants is to collapse or cry or maybe sleep forever. Poor girl, she thinks to herself. How terrible will it be when she wakes up to reality? Slipping a little more Sleeping Draught between Hermione's lips, Madam Pomfrey only wants for Hermione's good dreams to last a little longer.
Original Posting Date: February 4, 2018
Prompt: N/A
Word Count: 500
Note: Whaddaya think? Meant to be creepy. Hopefully, the final chapter will be on time for Valentine's Day :3