Haunted

Panic rose in her chest as the shadows closed in on her. Her breathing quickened as foot steps approached her, slow and methodical. The man walked with confidence and an eerily calm demeanor. A small flash of ink was visible on his wrist before a sleeve was smoothly pulled down to hide it.
Her heart beat was fast, like a scared rabbits. Anticipation and fear caused her hands to twitch while her feet started to shuffle. If only she could run, get away some how from this torture, from this devil of a man.
It was pointless to try though, she'd tried so many times. He always found her. And each time he was angrier. While his face was unreadable and mysterious, she saw the glint of fury in his eyes whenever she attempted to escape. Then he would laugh, a deep throaty sound that did nothing to ease her worries. In fact it only made her dread strike her harder. When he laughed. that was when there was truly cause to be afraid.
When he laughed, that was when he was cruelest.

"Did you miss me darling? I can assure you I did. Your skittish manner is quite frustrating, we both know that I"ll find you no matter what." His voice drawled as he lazily twirled the wand in his hand. It was black and slightly twisted. Just like him.

Hermione could not move, paralyzed by his words. Eyes growing slightly glazed and doe-like as she stared up at him. In a type of morbid dread she was transfixed by his cold gaze. There was no warmth in that face. The angles were harsh and sharp. And though he was not hideous, he was not particularly handsome either. His features were plain and gave one a false sense of security. What made him alluring however was the mysteriousness that seemed to enshroud him. Hermione often wondered if anyone truly knew him.

"Alas," the man said, raising a hand towards her but stopping when she flinched. "The time for us to meet is not yet here." his voice sounded disappointed as his hand dropped but a look of perverse eagerness appeared on his face.

"Till next time darling, it seems you are not yet ready to leave your pitiful friends. No matter, I shall simply have to use whatever means I can to prepare you." Before he left however, he grabbed her arm sharply, causing the pale skin to bruise. "So you don't forget." he said with a sly wink when she inhaled in pain.

His footsteps could be heard echoing loudly off the walls as the girl dropped to her knees. It was when the cool stone touched her skin that she woke up. Her eyes snapping open to stare at the top of the girls dorm room.

Wincing, Hermione got up from her bed and walked to the bathroom for a relaxing hot shower. As she passed, she could hear the soft snores of her room mates and envy crossed her face for a second before she moved on.

She undressed before stepping into the shower. When the boiling water hit her back she began to think of when the dreams had started. In the middle of summer, her parents had been distant, and she could tell they were having problems with their marriage. They bickered and she could tell they were resentful of the wizarding world.

Her mother felt that it had snatched up her young baby, and every year her daughter morphed from an innocent child to the intellectual witch she really was. Her father on the other hand, simply was not used to dealing with things he didn't comprehend. Richard Granger had been the smartest man during his school years and was used to picking up knowledge and devouring it. His daughter was much the same. Seeking knowledge and consuming it, ignoring the consequences. They were both addicted to information, though Richard in a different way.

So, as the relationship of her parents crumbled before her eyes she had been sent to Grandmothers for the remaining summer months. The strange boy she had met there had made her feel more human, more alive. She wondered when she would see him again...

Hermione was jolted out of her thoughts when ice cold water hit her back. Grumbling to herself she remember that she had put on a timer for the water because she tended to go on long tangents of thought.

She dressed quickly, and headed down stairs. It was only the second day of term and everyone was excited by the arrival of the foreign students. As such, the common room was crowded with giggling girls and preening boys. The chatter echoed off the room and hurt her head. The bright colors of the wall paper didn't help either.

"'Mione!" turning, Ron could be seen stomping his way towards her. A grin split his face and Harry could be seen being pulled behind him with Ginny following behind, forming one awkward, gangly congo-line of pubescent wizards.

"Was wonderin' when you would get down here! We've been waiting for ages! Almost left without you." His tone was jovial and eager, like a small puppy he looked around in the excitement and impatience one generally associates with toddlers.

"You know I'm not a morning person Ron. Come to think of it neither is Harry, I'm surprised you managed to drag him down here." Turning to Harry she saw him blink owlishly at her before yawning. His eyes were glazed and judging by his state of dress, Hermione figured Ron had basically forced him down stairs so they could watch students enter the tournament as soon as possible.

"Couldn't really stop him. You know how Ron is when hes determine about something. Reckon it's usually food but still." Harry laughed as Ron swatted at him but only managed to hit Ginny.

"Watch it!" rolling her eyes Ginny continued, "Can we go now? I'm starved and I wanna grab some food before we go. Thank god its Saturday, I'm so not looking forward to that double potions on Monday."

At this the topic of Snape being a "greasy git" came up and light hearted banter passed between them as they proceeded to the Great Hall. Hermione tried to force the images of her dream from her mind but had a harder time than normal. She could swear his footsteps were echoing down the corridor.

"You all right 'Mione?" glancing to Harry she nodded quickly before giving him a small smile. They reached the table and began eating as the owls came in. One swooped down and dropped a letter in Ron's plate, interrupting his shoveling of food (Hermione liked to entertain the notion that Ron's stomach was actually a portal to the void of space). Scowling he grabbed before gruffly passing it to Hermione.

"It's for you." Hermione glanced up in surprise. She never received letters. Not even from her parents who thought owls too barbaric to use.

Who would want to send her a letter?

AN: Tell me what you think! I'm going to try to update this one regularly. If you have any ideas you'd like to see in the plot I'll try my best to add them!