Disclaimer: I own nothing except the plot. The poem is part mine, part
miscellaneous Third Eye Blind lyrics.
A/N: Happy reading. Or morbid reading, rather. Drop me a note? Flames are welcome.
Reign In Blood: Smother Her
---------------- March 10 ---------------- There's a clown in her head that connects to a dream of a crowded room where the Glasses clink. And he'll buy her a beer and they'll drink in deep Because she can't keep from falling asleep. There's a demon in her brain and it starts to overwhelm. There it goes: her last change for peace. He lays her down but she gets no release. She feels her reality turn to a nightmare. She holds her breath until it's more than she can stand and she closes her eyes to Dream that she's awake. She writes everything down except what's on her mind because her greatest fear is the Sucking sound, and she knows she'll never get back out. How'd you like to be alone and drowning? She feels her self slide into another nightmare. Just smother her. It won't make a difference. Go on; kill her from the inside out. It won't matter. Do what you please. She'll do anything you wish. She's your pawn. Lay her down and name your request. Smother her. She would step back from the ledge if you thought about cutting the ties of your lies. Could you listen to one word she has to say? Everyone she knows seems to have a reason to beg to differ. She never thought it would come to this and she wants you to know-
"Open this door, Hermione," a voice growled from outside her dormitory.
16 year old Hermione Granger yelped as she threw aside her parchment and quill. She ran to the door, fumbled with the lock, and quickly flung the door open.
"So sorry-"she started and was cut off by a heavy blow to her left cheek. She fell to the ground because of the impact and looked up blankly at the 6'5 red head above her.
"Ron, I'm-"
"Bitch, I told you not to lock that fucking door," he said calmly as he kicked her side, sending Hermione flying across the room, smacking against the side of her dresser. Hermione gasped for air and immediately coughed up blood into her hands. Ron was looking around in her drawers and taking out all of her clothes as she did this. She looked up at him with big, anxious brown eyes. He walked over to her bed and spotted her notebook of parchment filled with all her poems. Ron picked up the cache, frowning.
"What the fuck is this?" he asked, not looking at her.
"My notebook," Hermione replied quietly.
Ron ripped out the first page and threw it into the fire.
"Ron-"she yelped as she started to get up to save her life's work.
Ron said, "Did I tell you to get up?" He had stopped and was looking right at her.
Hermione immediately say back down and said, "I'm sorry, Ron." She was near tears. He then proceeded to tear out one page at a time and toss them into the burning blaze of red and silver flames.
"Ron...please...please," Hermione begged, rocking herself.
When he was done destroying her efforts, Hermione was sobbing with her head in her hands. Ron walked over to her. He crouched down in front of the girl so he was eye level with her and he said, "Hey. It's all right, baby. Come on. Look at me." Ron gently lifted her chin up. Ron smiled when Hermione looked at him. He slowly ran a finger over her cheek. He caressed along her jawbone and down her nose with his soft fingertips.
Hermione couldn't help but smile.
"Now there's my Hermione," Ron said almost triumphantly. He ran his hand through her hair. "You're so beautiful, baby," Ron told her.
Hermione giggled and Ron said, "I love you, Hermione."
"I love you too, Ron," Hermione said, looking into his addicting blue-green eyes. He smiled with a satisfying look and replied, "You better."
--------------------------------------------- Two months earlier: January 10 ---------------------------------------------
"The boy has an excuse, Minerva," Albus Dumbledore mumbled quietly to the irritated-looking teacher standing in front of him.
"There shouldn't be an excuse for mouthing off relentlessly and never making an effort in class, Albus," Professor McGonagall exclaimed. Professor Dumbledore sighed and sat down at his office desk, rubbing his eyes.
"Minerva, the child lost his mother on Christmas and his father left within a week, never-"
"I know, Albus!" McGonagall said angrily, "I can't take it much longer, though. I haven't been able to manage him; no matter how many detentions I grant the boy! I also haven't been able to teach that particular class since delayed November. Couldn't you do anything?"
Dumbledore looked out a window to his left and said, "This is something Ron needs to sort out on his own."
"I understand that," McGonagall replied, "I just wish he could learn a thing or two from his best friends. Mr. Potter has always managed without his parents and Ms. Granger...well...she's always seemed to keep him grounded and on the right track..."
A/N: Happy reading. Or morbid reading, rather. Drop me a note? Flames are welcome.
Reign In Blood: Smother Her
---------------- March 10 ---------------- There's a clown in her head that connects to a dream of a crowded room where the Glasses clink. And he'll buy her a beer and they'll drink in deep Because she can't keep from falling asleep. There's a demon in her brain and it starts to overwhelm. There it goes: her last change for peace. He lays her down but she gets no release. She feels her reality turn to a nightmare. She holds her breath until it's more than she can stand and she closes her eyes to Dream that she's awake. She writes everything down except what's on her mind because her greatest fear is the Sucking sound, and she knows she'll never get back out. How'd you like to be alone and drowning? She feels her self slide into another nightmare. Just smother her. It won't make a difference. Go on; kill her from the inside out. It won't matter. Do what you please. She'll do anything you wish. She's your pawn. Lay her down and name your request. Smother her. She would step back from the ledge if you thought about cutting the ties of your lies. Could you listen to one word she has to say? Everyone she knows seems to have a reason to beg to differ. She never thought it would come to this and she wants you to know-
"Open this door, Hermione," a voice growled from outside her dormitory.
16 year old Hermione Granger yelped as she threw aside her parchment and quill. She ran to the door, fumbled with the lock, and quickly flung the door open.
"So sorry-"she started and was cut off by a heavy blow to her left cheek. She fell to the ground because of the impact and looked up blankly at the 6'5 red head above her.
"Ron, I'm-"
"Bitch, I told you not to lock that fucking door," he said calmly as he kicked her side, sending Hermione flying across the room, smacking against the side of her dresser. Hermione gasped for air and immediately coughed up blood into her hands. Ron was looking around in her drawers and taking out all of her clothes as she did this. She looked up at him with big, anxious brown eyes. He walked over to her bed and spotted her notebook of parchment filled with all her poems. Ron picked up the cache, frowning.
"What the fuck is this?" he asked, not looking at her.
"My notebook," Hermione replied quietly.
Ron ripped out the first page and threw it into the fire.
"Ron-"she yelped as she started to get up to save her life's work.
Ron said, "Did I tell you to get up?" He had stopped and was looking right at her.
Hermione immediately say back down and said, "I'm sorry, Ron." She was near tears. He then proceeded to tear out one page at a time and toss them into the burning blaze of red and silver flames.
"Ron...please...please," Hermione begged, rocking herself.
When he was done destroying her efforts, Hermione was sobbing with her head in her hands. Ron walked over to her. He crouched down in front of the girl so he was eye level with her and he said, "Hey. It's all right, baby. Come on. Look at me." Ron gently lifted her chin up. Ron smiled when Hermione looked at him. He slowly ran a finger over her cheek. He caressed along her jawbone and down her nose with his soft fingertips.
Hermione couldn't help but smile.
"Now there's my Hermione," Ron said almost triumphantly. He ran his hand through her hair. "You're so beautiful, baby," Ron told her.
Hermione giggled and Ron said, "I love you, Hermione."
"I love you too, Ron," Hermione said, looking into his addicting blue-green eyes. He smiled with a satisfying look and replied, "You better."
--------------------------------------------- Two months earlier: January 10 ---------------------------------------------
"The boy has an excuse, Minerva," Albus Dumbledore mumbled quietly to the irritated-looking teacher standing in front of him.
"There shouldn't be an excuse for mouthing off relentlessly and never making an effort in class, Albus," Professor McGonagall exclaimed. Professor Dumbledore sighed and sat down at his office desk, rubbing his eyes.
"Minerva, the child lost his mother on Christmas and his father left within a week, never-"
"I know, Albus!" McGonagall said angrily, "I can't take it much longer, though. I haven't been able to manage him; no matter how many detentions I grant the boy! I also haven't been able to teach that particular class since delayed November. Couldn't you do anything?"
Dumbledore looked out a window to his left and said, "This is something Ron needs to sort out on his own."
"I understand that," McGonagall replied, "I just wish he could learn a thing or two from his best friends. Mr. Potter has always managed without his parents and Ms. Granger...well...she's always seemed to keep him grounded and on the right track..."