if
.
.
.
"if i was dying -"
"you aren't going to die, 'mione."
she leers at the empty doorway of the tent, and counts the shallow breaths she's taking, how the air scrapes her lungs raw until it hurts to talk.
"tell me he's coming back, harry."
"hermione -"
"lie to me, harry."
he kisses her instead, and it hurts, the sting of his lips. she gasps and arches underneath him as his hands dip and play, her eyes seeing ginger. harry's kisses are tender as they drip down her neck, and she wants to accept them, wants to feel. she's cried all her emotions away, it seems, leaving nothing but an empty shell.
she still pushes him away.
.
eyes, mad with rage. the slit of the blade against her forearm.
bellatrix knows what it means to lie, hermione thinks as the blade burns. those black eyes are cold, no longer feel emotion; she's pretending to hate, trying to find something she used to be.
hermione screams. lie to me.
"mudblood!"
she wakes up, sweat dripping, remembering those endless days running away, leaving ron behind, fighting.
the dark lord may be dead, but he never -
- really
hello, mudblood, his voice croons in her ear.
-left.
.
sometimes she wishes she could tell them that she never wanted to play this game. she never wanted to follow harry potter around the world, never wanted to stand and wipe her parent's memories.
all she wanted was to belong to someone, when it was no longer safe for her parents.
"this is where they used to live," she whispers, remembering her mother's smile, her father's face burning in the dusk. fingers link, and ron looks at her like she's an angel.
he looks at the house, at the burned steps, and raises a questioning eyebrow.
"who did this then?"
"honestly, ronald," she whispers, hugging him to her so tight that she can barely breathe.
i did.
.
she lies on the couch and watches ron sleep, smiling, lips cracking at the corners. it's just like that night at grimmauld place, except she's a little older, they're a little closer, and her stomach is a little bigger.
"ron," she breathes, stretching out her pinky finger until she finds his hand. "if i was dying -"
silence. his chest is a little too flat, and her eyes rim with red.
"- i'd be counting down the minutes until I was with you."
.
A/N: Don't even know what that was. Ugh, horrible. Awful.