No Future
"I'm lonely," she whispered to the empty kitchen. Nothing stirred as she sighed and slouched forward. Her posture was closed off, defeated: her head on top of her folded arms that rested on the scarred wooden table in front of her.
A new day dawned outside, birds chirping in the trees as the sun bathed everything in its faintly golden light, but she was motionless in the dim room. Only a sliver of this light crept between hastily drawn curtains, revealing a riotous display of swirling dust motes in the air of the neglected room.
"Fucking sun, go away," she croaked. Her voice was unused to speaking, and her throat was dry. It felt as though it was coated with dust. She lifted her head and stood, joints creaking in displeasure, in order to wash the filthy taste from her mouth.
Facing the window, glass of water in hand, she contemplated the slight gap between the curtains. The world should not be still turning, since her life had crashed straight to hell. Irritably, she twitched the curtains into their proper place, extinguishing the natural light.
"The weather ought to be dark and stormy," she announced. She turned around, paused then conceded as though someone had commented.
"You're right - that'd be too predictable. Rain would suit my mood, or some thick fog. Even one cloud would be better than that picture of perfection hovering over Spinner's End!" she exclaimed. Then: "You're not supposed to be here. I came back here to be alone."
The other participant in the 'conversation' made some retort and she cried out defensively:
"Hey, just because I felt lonely doesn't mean you can just come and go as you please! You made it clear you weren't coming back before you left last time, so why return when you said yourself there's nothing for you here, that this relationship was going nowhere? Get out of my house, Red. It's over."
She returned to her usual seat at the table and drummed her fingers on it nervously. She started and then shot a nervous smile to the head of the table.
"Sorry, love; I forgot you hate when I do that." Her voice broke at the end of the sentence as she tried to control her emotions. Her chocolate brown eyes held a curious sheen: one of intellect, yet deep sadness, as though there was nothing but empty rooms behind them. They seemed glassy and unfocused, but occasionally they would glimmer with a strange light reflected from somewhere deep inside her.
A heavy knock at the front door resounded dully through the house. She sluggishly made her way to the source of the noise, opened the door a crack and said in a gruff voice,
"Go away, I'm busy."
As she shut the pitted black door, a wrinkled hand reached out to stop it. Her pathetic strength was easily overcome by the older woman on the other side of the door. She squinted and shaded her eyes against the bright light of the sun.
"Do I know you?" she inquired distantly as the woman stepped farther in. The woman in question ignored the question as she examined first her surroundings (a dim hallway with nothing but a faded landscape painting and a low table) then the young woman opposite her.
"Hermione, you were one of the brightest students I have ever taught. What went wrong?" she murmured as she shed her cloak.
"They died," she said simply, then shuffled back to the kitchen. Minerva followed her after hanging up her cloak in the closet.
When she reached the kitchen, she was amazed to see a completely different woman bustling about the now-bright room.
"Oh, I'm so glad you could come to tea, Minerva. I have quite missed our chats. You work much too hard at Hogwarts. You must let Severus help you more often. The poor man misses it so; bringing him in as a consultant doesn't seem to be enough. I keep telling him that we should move to Hogsmeade, but does he heed his wife?"
She kept up a constant stream of chatter while she served the tea. When she brightly offered a plate of gingersnaps and lemon tarts ("bless his heart, Albus would've loved these"), Minerva had had enough of this conflicting behaviour.
"Mrs Granger-Snape! You will cease this prattle and begin to speak sensibly. Severus' days as a consultant of Hogwarts have been over for seven months. Do you not remember the explosion?" She used her best, no-nonsense 'Professor-tone'.
At her sharp tone, Hermione shrank back and said in a small girl's voice,
"I'm sorry Professor McGonagall. I thought I could handle the troll on my own. Please don't take too many points from Harry and Ron. If they hadn't been there…"
Hermione abruptly sat down and rubbed her eyes. She sniffed as she said,
"I'm sorry to cut our tea short, Minerva, but I'm exhausted from the funerals. I think I'll go and see if Severus is alright. We both know it isn't good for him to be cooped up in the lab for hours on end. Harry wasn't his friend, but he admitted that he had respect for him. It's the most I could expect, with their history." She laughed bitterly then began chanting in a sing-song voice:
"Eight little monkeys jumping on the bed,
All fell off and bumped their heads,
'Mione called the doctor, the doctor said…
'I'm sorry Miss, but your monkeys are dead'."
A chill went down Minerva's spine. Debating with herself for a moment, she came to a decision. She took out her wand and Stunned Hermione as she danced and hummed around the kitchen.
"Oh Hermione, I fear your mind is beyond our reach," Minerva sorrowfully addressed Hermione's still body. She brushed moisture away from her eye as she sighed, "Not that there is anyone left for you to come back for."
Fin
A/N: Well… that was different from what I meant to write. I haven't slept yet, which may be why this is morbid and weird. So that's what I think it'd be like if Hermione cracked. I see her as a very strong character who will refuse to let emotions 'get in the way', thus bottling them up until someone gets her to talk about what's bothering her, or she destroys herself. In this case, any confidantes she had in life died. I see it as what might happen if, way after I Dreamed a Dream (still working on an epilogue, this isn't it!) Ron left Hermione and she shacked up with Severus.
Monkey #1 - Crookshanks - hit by a car.
Monkey #2 - Ginny - AK'ed in the Final Battle
Monkey #3 - Harry - succumbed to extensive curses after defeating Voldemort
Monkey #4 - Mrs Granger - heart attack
Monkey #5 - Mr Granger - natural causes, but two weeks after Mrs Granger
Monkey #6 - Ron - flying drunk
Monkey #7 - baby Julia Granger-Snape - born four months early
Monkey #8 - Severus Snape - potions explosion at Hogwarts during in-class observation of new Potions Professor's methods
You see why she lost it?
Review and tell me how depraved I am. Flames will be used to light my pants on fire.