Chapter Uno
The smell of old parchment and books had always soothed her, not that she necessarily liked the title of "Book worm". Hermione Granger really couldn't help the fact that she enjoyed reading, learning, and all that jazz. It was like how Harry was born to fly and catch the Golden Snitch; she was born to pursue knowledge. In her first year at Hogwarts, she had abhorred the title her zealous attitude for learning had earned her. By the second and third year, it still bothered her and at night frustrated tears would stain her pillow cases. In her fourth and fifth year, she began to adjust, realizing that despite the burdensome reputation that haunted her, it was a true blessing. Her brilliance that allowed her to help Harry get around Umbridge's absurd rules in their fifth year had lifted her spirits. Hermione became a woman comfortable with who she was.
A silly name couldn't swallow the pride that bubbled up when she accomplished a new advanced spell. When Hermione got to her sixth year at school, she had a skin of steel. No amounts of taunts from the Slytherin table could send her to her dorm in tears. She liked to think of herself as quiet the accomplished witch. A complete Bad Ass, if she didn't mind saying so. Hermione pumped herself up; no one could affect her self esteem but herself. A simple trip to the library would set her right and soon she'd be humming merrily down the hallways. Knowledge was something she could always rely on… unfortunately her well of smarts had dried up suddenly and quite unexpectedly.
While normally the effects that the Oveshorn herb has on the human body are mild, when abused, the consequences can be devastating. In 23 C.E. Chedar Malthus, a prestigious wizard at the time in Ethiopia developed the uses of the herb… he made a credible account… of what happens… when…used…incorrectly…
Her train of thought slowed. The powerful juices pumping through her brain thickened and slugged her mechanical mind. Her train of thought had been perfect a minute ago, chugging along as she wrote her essay for Advanced Potions. She was halfway through and was charging full steam for the finish line. It was to be another pristine essay churned out by Hermione Granger. Then. Why. Had. She. Stopped? Hermione attempted to set her mind back on the right track and readied her quill, but the words never came. They solidified inside somewhere along her arm, unable to flow down her wrist to the tip of the quill and onto the page.
She frowned and looked up from her parchment. The library was for the most part empty and warm. Lazy sunlight clung to heavy clouds of dust as they floated past the ancient stained glass windows. Every now and then a swish of a cloak would flick past an opening in the numerous shelves, but besides that she was alone. A seemingly perfect place to work, yet at the moment, however, it wasn't very perfect. Sweat clung to the back of her neck even though she had tied back the messy curls. Hermione tugged off her sweater and hitched up her skirt, allowing fresh air to breeze across her knees.
But it still wasn't enough. The heat of the Library weighed down on her, a choking blanket. She looked down at her essay, ignoring the bead of sweat trickling down her temple. She willed the words to come, calling them, but they didn't listen. Hermione drew and shaky breath and looked up again. She felt… odd. Why couldn't she write? What had been so clear a moment before was now lost in a fog, trapped somewhere in her mind.
The quill dropped from her fingers, fingers that trembled ever so slightly. Hermione didn't notice. She was to busy trying to swallow. Her mouth had become painfully dry, like crackled parchment. She needed water, she needed cool air. A bubble of panic was slowly working its way into her stomach and up to her chest. The normally calm and collected book worm was beginning to slip. She pushed herself from the table and staggered towards the nearest book shelf. For some reason, she had to get out of her refuge. She was going to choke… she was going to die.
The world isn't a perfect sphere of solid time and space. There is a fine web between what is real, and what seems to be real. We don't truly know which is which. All we do know is that there are large holes in the web between the two, and sometimes things slip.
Hermione Granger crashed into a second year, causing their pile of books to tumble to the ground in chaos. She didn't bother to stop and apologize to the offended 12-year-old, in fact, she didn't even notice the protests aimed at her back. All she knew was that she needed to get out. The only problem was she didn't know where out was. Her frantic mind scrambled for an answer as she weaved her way from the library. Her feet stepped and tripped over a dizzying amount of stone hallways. People where saying things to her, grabbing her. All her mind could make out was the flapping of their mouths and the pressure on her arms. She shrugged them all away. They were all too hot. This heat was killing her. The heat radiated from their bodies in piercing waves, causing her to gag. Now seeing was beginning to be an issue. Figures and places blurred in and out of her vision.
Her hands met wood. Doors, she knew they were doors. Hermione pushed and was greeted by and rush of cool air. It was a relief, but it wasn't enough. The heat was behind her. She turned to look and saw a crowd of people, all flapping their mouths. It reminded her of stranded fish and she would have laughed, but she was too dry. Any sound would crack her throat and then she would have to go around with a huge gap across her Adam's apple. Now wouldn't that look silly?
She turned towards the outside, where the cool air was. It was blindingly bright, where ever she was. The heat was beginning to drain from her face, but she was still parched. So parched… I need water. WATER. One stumbling, yet clear thought managed to come out of the thickness of her mind. WATER. That's what she needed. If she found water, she would be alright. Hermione clung to the wooden doors and looked out into the brightness. That's when she saw it, a clear gathering of water. The sun twinkled off its surface, it looked inviting. It was seductive. Sudden strength found itself in her legs, and she began to run. Everything else disappeared as she neared her instinctual need.
It seemed that as soon as she had seen it, she was there. With a thoughtless leap, she was air born before cold, refreshing water crashed about her. It shot up her nose, cleared her eyes, deafened her ears, and relaxed her muscles. Hermione gently floated down till she landed in a bed of soft green algae. The water thriving plants wove around her arms, comforting her. The many arms of plant life acted like a blanket being tucked around her. It was so… nice down here. Maybe she could just rest for a while before coming back up to the surface; it would be a nice little break. She felt she deserved it.
Everyone stood in silent horror. No one knew what to say. Had they all gone mad? Or had Hermione Granger just bolt from the castle like a bat out of hell and had plunged herself into the lake. She had looked like the insane with her hair flying wildly in every direction. The silence gradually changed into a soft murmur as people awkwardly shifted her feet. She hadn't come to the surface yet. Should we go get her? She'll come up any minute now, I'm sure of it. Uneasy words floated from the crowd, yet no one moved.
Draco Malfoy shifted his shoulders against the tree he was against. The shock of the sight had already left him. Now he watched the scene with interest. What had Granger gotten herself into this time? His usual façade of apathy began to slip as time passed. She still hadn't come to the surface. Some one else would save her, surely. Malfoy smoothed a blonde thread of hair back into its place and cast a cool eye onto his companions. Crabb and Goyle watched the lake with puzzled silence. The event would have confused anyone, but considering his minions I.Q., the two had a better chance of solving world hunger than to piece together an explanation of what had just occurred. Malfoy looked back at the lake.
Everyone seemed to be stuck where they were standing. She was going to drown if someone didn't act quickly. With a twitching eye, Malfoy discretely took out his wand. He aimed at Seamus; he was closest to the water. The small amount of energy aimed at the boy shook him out of his trace and with a strangled yell, he leaped into the lake. A second later there was a flurry of activity as everyone moved at once. Seamus leaping into the water had triggered everyone else to react. There were screams, sobs, and yells as people crowded the lake shore. The castle's main doors flew open with a bang as Potter dashed from the stone steps with the Weasel close on his heels.
There was a splash and Seamus surfaced, dragging a pale and water logged Hermione along with him. She was engulfed in the crowd and Malfoy lost sight of her, not that it mattered. Someone dashed towards the castle, most likely to get help. Draco turned his attention back to his friends, satisfied. He wasn't heartless enough to let the mudblood die, but there was no way in hell he would do the saving himself.
I hope you guys found this intersting. This is a bit of an expirement so if anyone likes it and reviews, I'll keep on writing. But I NEED REVIEWS! I hope for the story to be action packed and suspenseful.
peanut18