A tall man walks up to me. His clothing is rather bizarre, he isn't dressed like a muggle, nor like a wizard. It looks like he is from some other universe, but that kind of stuff does not exist... or does it?
The man, who has gorgeous sky blue eyes, spells words I cannot understand for some reason, but the sincere smile on his face and his soothing voice makes my heart miss a beat.
He stretches his hand out towards me and I take it, half unconsciously.
As I grab his hand, something begins to change. The paradisiacal place in which we were was morphed into hell: the sky becomes blood-red, the earth withers and a strange rain begins to fall heavily, burning all the wonderful trees and flowers surrounding us, as an acid.
I feel my hand, still holding the man's, being pulled, so I look down at him.
He just fell on his knees, almost helplessly. His handsome face, framed by straight black hair, had lost all of its joy, leaving its place to a terrified expression and teary eyes.
I kneel too and look at him. As we cross our gazes, a spark lightens up and the man's face twinkles almost imperceptibly.
I could as well leave him there and go away, after all, I don't even know him, though there is something shining through his eyes that convince me not to do such a thing.
Our hands tighten, the rain stops.
Hermione woke up suddenly, her heart beating fast, drenched in sweat for the heath and for... eh... what a weird dream she had. Maybe she had only read too much, but that man seemed so real...
She felt like she could still hold his hands and drown in his eyes...
She sighed. It was 7 a.m.
She could have slept a few more hours, but she wasn't sleepy anymore. She sat up and the book that she had abandoned open on her chest the night before, after having closed her eyes "for a few seconds", fell down.
Normally, she would have picked it up and put it back on its shelf, but that morning felt dizzy and made her forget to do even the habitual things.
She opened her fridge and noticed, with disappointment, that it was nearly empty. At least it was a good excuse to have a walk.
She wore a pair of jeans and an old T-Shirt (that was once Ron's, when they still were together) and got out.
She had to hurry if she wanted to avoid the rush hour, so she begun walking fast to the supermarket.
Absently, she bumped into a passer-by. She turned her head to apologize to an unknown face, but found two familiar eyes instead. Without waiting any further, the man looked away and kept walking.
Hermione was confused. She took a few more steps without really paying attention to where she was going, with the same blue eyes she met that night firmly showing up in her head.
She stopped and turned to gaze to the passer-by once more, but his figure had already vanished in the crowd that was coming out of their house to go to work.
A few weeks later, Hermione jumped off her train and walked a little away from the train's doors, looking for her ringing cellphone in her purse.
Something, maybe her instinct, made her turn and gaze towards the train.
A black-haired head caught her attention. The man turned his head and she saw his face clearly.
Those eyes, again.
Maybe he was the same passer-by she had bumped into? Yet, something in his look had changed, it had degenerated, he looked... dowdy, maybe?
A month had passed by, and Hermione hadn't met those familiar eyes anymore.
She closed her book, sighing after having read its last page.
She gazed out of the window: it was dark and she also felt a little cold.
As she was putting on a jacket, she saw someone sitting almost exhausted on the pavement.
She walked up to her window.
Raven black hair... sky blue eyes that shone like a cat's with the feeble light of the street lamp... his clothes looked like the passer-by's and the ones of the guy on the train, only they looked a lot more shabby, like his face...
Hermione held her breath. She couldn't leave him there, even though she didn't even know him.
She took a warm blanket and put some water to boil, then she ran to the door.
With her hand gripped on the handle, she froze.
Could she trust him and let him in?
Well, she couldn't let him to die out there either, so she opened the door and hoped for the best.
She crossed the street with a weird little run and stopped a few steps away from the man.
He was sitting all curled up, his arms around his legs and his forehead on his knees.
Hermione unfolded the blanked, approached him calmly and put it around his wide shoulders.
The man winced, but since he was so tired it looked more like a shiver, and rose his head.
A scared face with teary eyes was staring at her from beneath.
Hermione looked at him, overwhelmed by an uproar of thoughts... and that dream...
She shook her head lightly, then helped the man stand by surrounding his shoulders with her arms and said briefly «Let's go.»