I sat at the long, empty hardwood table in the kitchen, mindlessly stirring my now cold soup. Sighing, I rested my hand in my chin, staring out the Burrow's small windows into the rapidly expanding darkness. Harry. Harry, where are you? I let my mind come dangerously close to submitting to the dark shadows that had been ever present since the trio had disappeared at Bill and Fleur's wedding. The nightmares of Harry injured, in pain, desperately calling out to me as Death Eaters swarmed around him, jeering and tormenting. Absently I pulled on a loose strand of my wild Weasely red hair. Biting my lip, i stifled a small cry as my dark nightmares threatened to overtake reality. Through the haze of pain and worry, I heard the sound of my mother's knitting needles gently clicking in the sitting room just of the kitchen. Letting the sounds of my childhood remind me of the Burrow's comfort, I pulled myself out of the dangerous places of my mind and back to the warmth and familiarity of the Burrow. With another heavy sigh, I stood from the table and walked slowly towards my mother. With my head hanging towards the ground, still heavy with dark and painful thoughts, my mind automatically registered the sorry condition of my trainers--fringed and coming apart at the seams. Blimey, Ginny, you're looking a fine state.Grimacing, i automatically made plans to ask Hermione to go shopping with me, carelessly planning the future before i realized...Hermione was gone. I fought the sudden, childish urge to stamp my foot as anguish swept over me. Where are they?Seeing my mother sitting quietly on the couch, i sprinted my way over to her and threw myself on her lap.
"Mum", I cried, letting my emotions seep out at my mother gently wrapped her arms around me and rocked me like a child. "What if something's happened, how would we know? What if they need help? My mother's arms tensed around me as she leaned more into the embrace.
"Shhh", she whispered, "its out of our control now, they're on their own". As she spoke these last words, i heard her voice shake and I tightened my arms around her.
"I'm sure their okay, just laying low and keeping out of the way". We could both hear the false note in my voice, we both knew that wherever the three were, they were in the middle of it, surrounded by the most dangerous and powerful dark wizards in the wizarding world.
"Come to the kitchen", Mum said gently after a couple minutes of silence, "let's make some tea", I nodded, running my sleeve over my eyes.
I leaned against the well-worn counter of the Burrow's kitchen as my mother prepared the tea, my mind again straying to the contents of my nightmares. Just stop it Ginny. They're fine. Roughly pushing the dark thoughts away, I opened a cupboard to get out two cups. That's the moment might nightmares began to fuse with reality. From the darkened lawn out front we heard the sudden crack of someone apparating and a loud thud as something hit the ground. My heart automatically picked up, everyone was home, who would be apparating to our house at such an hour. Then my nightmares became true. From the yard came a cry so filled with anguish and pain, so desperate in its plea for help that i physically had to steady myself with the counter. The sound ripped through me, leaving my heart somewhere near my ankles, as my brother's tortured voice cried out into the night,
"Help me! Somebody help...Oh God, please...somebody". Barely a second of shocked silence had passed before the cups in my hand tumbled to the ground and my mother and I sprinted to the front door. Already feeling like my heart was going to jump out of my chest, my mind struggled to keep up with reality. The nightmares came crashing back. The blood and cries of my friends, once distinguishable from real life, invaded my mind and left me trembling. My nightmares, however gruesome or tortured they had become, could in no way compete with the reality of seeing my brother, with his tousled red hair bent over the small, deathly pale and tortured body of my best friend. Ron's head was pressed to Hermione's neck as he sobbed, moaning over and over, "Oh god..Hermione...Hermione please". His broken cries pierced my chest and pushed my legs faster, running like never before to get to them. As the light from my mother's wand pushed into the darkness, Ron and Hermione's crumpled forms became clearer and more heart-wrenching. Through the shield of Ron's body, Hermione's hand dropped to the ground below, revealing torn and broken nails with blood seeping down her fingers, dyeing the grass below. The sight stopped me in my tracks. I had never thought of Hermione as vulnerable; gentle, caring-definitely, but she had always had a strength and confidence about her that gave hint to her brilliance and power. Her hand though, still and bloody, made20me fall to my knees. My breath caught in my throat and i heard the startled gasp of my mother a couple feet behind me.
"Hermi..." I tried to force words from my mouth, searching desperately for answers, but my throat constricted and all i could do was crawl forward on my hands and knees, scrambling towards the fallen pair as my reality suddenly became my nightmare. Suddenly Hermione's body jerked, as if invisible strings were attached to her limbs, a tortured whimper escaped her mouth, which was clenched tight as if fighting to hold back a scream. Ron frantically lifted his head, his eyes wide, frightened as they searched her face, his arms unconsciously tightened around her, bringing her body closer to his chest. I reached his side, my mother falling to the ground next to me. Trembling she reached her hand out to brush Hermione's cheek, staining her fingers with blood and dirt.
"Ron" she whispered in a choked voice, "Ron, what happened, is she...how.."? Her words fell to silence as Ron's sobs grew louder.
"Help her...please...save her". Ron's voice trembled in the darkness, tears running down20his face and dripping onto the still figure he held clutched in his arms.
"I need her, she can't...." His voice clenched and as he tightened his hold even more, Hermione's head fell back revealing a gruesome and jagged cut across the pale skin of her throat. My breath caught and I gently reached out, my hands desperately searching for a place to touch her, trying to comfort her and myself. My mother suddenly snapped out of her fixed gaze, the blood clearly frightening her into action.
"Ronald, get her to the house. Ginny run inside and clear off the kitchen table". My brain tried to make sense of her words, still transfixed by the horror before me. Hermione's sudden whimper of pain brought me to the present. I scrambled to my knees, tripping and running to the house with Ron and mum following carefully behind.
I frantically swiped the remains of my soup and the papers laying carelessly on the table to the floor. Sobs threatened to escape from my clenched mouth and my mind threatened=2 0to go numb from the sudden shock. Trembling, I searched for clean dish towels and laid them carefully on the table, meticulously straightening the edges so my mind didn't wander back to the scene outside. Mum stumbled into the kitchen, holding the door wide for Ron to enter. I hoped, prayed, that the darkness outside had made Hermione seem more gaunt and battered, that the warm light of the Burrow would lessen the horror. The sight before me made be back away in disbelief. Hermione lay completely still and limp in Ron's arms. Her sleeve had fallen back to reveal bloody gashes running up her arm and disappearing into her clothes. In the light, the rest of her body became visible, elucidating the extent of her torture. The skin exposed was impossibly pale and her veins stood out dark and angry in contrast. Blood dripped down Ron's trembling arms to the floor below, staining his clothes as Hermione's life ebbed away. Shaking my head, I backed even further away, refusing to believe the truth before me. Ron gently lifted Hermione to the table and immediately sat down next to her, again burying his face against her middle. Mum stood off to the side, her mouth open with pain and her tears spilling down her face. Striding forward, she grabbed Ron's shoulder, "Ron, Ronald you have to tell us, I have to know how to help her". Shaking him, she tightened her grip, digging her nails into his shirt. "Please", she cried desperately, "I need to know". Ron slowly lifted his head, his eyed dead with pain, "Bellatrix Lestrange". The hate he poured into those two words was tangible. Suddenly as if awoken from a stupor, Ron angrily spun around from the table, his face a frightening combination of torment and fury.
"SHE TOOK HER. SHE TOOK HER AND I COULDN'T DO ANYTHING". I watched as the anger drained out of him and he collapsed back onto Hermione, whispering "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry". Mum's face had paled when the word's Bellatrix Lestrange had left Ron's lips. She stood shocked for a moment, unable to move, before springing back into action with even more urgency than before.
"Ginny, I need to get these clothes off, I need to see what that...I need to help her". I nodded, swallowing hard and backed from the room, before turning and stumbling up the stairs to grab a night gown.