"Is dreaming a curse?"

She looks up at me, and tears of my own start leaking out. She just sits there, crouched on the ground, clutching their bodies and staring.

Staring at her past as it hits her, and staring at it disappear like friends who have died.

Staring at her present, as it lies on the ground, the friends that she cherished so much gone in a simultaneously green instant.

Staring at her future, as it falls out from under her. Because, for her, there was no past, no present, not future without them.

---

She doesn't cry. She doesn't sob either, of howl, or bawl, or any other loud thing like that.

She doesn't make a sound when the tears come streaming down.

I took her hands in mine, and pulled her away from her love's glassy eyes.

"Dreams are a gift from the one who we love. The only curse that you will ever know is the one that He said. This was not your fault."

She lifted up her head, and looked straight at my eyes.

She smiled.

It was a sad sort of smile that made a person want to cry, or give her a hug, or tell her it was going to be alright.

But it wasn't.

It never would be.

"Because I dreamed that they lived, and they died."

---

So I took her home, and washed her so she wasn't covered in their blood.

I took her, and take care of her now, this broken child of a woman, and one day, someday, she will get better.

It may not be in a day, or even a year, but I have faith that she will heal, and be free of the pain that she brought upon herself.

I have faith, because I have a dream.

And one day, when all the children of the world know her story, Hermione will laugh again.

Because she will wake up, and Harry will see her, and I will come back from the veil.

Because I had a dream.

---

God save the Queen and her bloody books.

Peace.