Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling, even if in many ways I wished I was. I do not either pretend to be, thought I'd like. The characters and story line belong to her, I'm just playing around with them... because it's fun.
This idea has been playing on my head for months now. Before DH came out I read a fic that inspired me in many ways, but I couldn't find the words. So, just today I finished reading "The Subtle Knife" by Phillip Pullman, and something clicked on my brain. So, I sat down and three hours later, and five different beginnings, this is what I could come up with.
It happens in the time Harry and Hermione are left alone, at Godric's Hollow. I'm changing the story line from there. I still don't have a pretty good idea of where I'm going, but I'm going.
Anyways, first story published at hope you like it!
Her eyes darted across the room, as she gripped his hand tightly. As if by holding it she could save herself, how big of a fool. But he seemed to share that same thought, for he gripped probably as hard as her, and her fingers were starting to get numb.
She closed her eyes a little more often than she would have in a normal situation. Or directed them to other less important things, such as a broken window, a broken chair, a broken bed, a broken table... everything was broken.
A week before, exactly. That had been their doom. Harry had walked over to her, and addressed her with the idea of going to Doric's Hollow. Perhaps it had been her numbness, or her sadness, perhaps her desperations, but she decided to disobey her brain and the warnings this was sending, and agreed.
She had walked into a trap, she knew it the moment she stepped in the graveyard. But, she kept walking, and she did not say a word. She followed Harry blindly into the darkness, into the tombs, silently.
She knew someone was watching, but she didn't have the heart to get him up, and warn him, for he was finally grieving for the loss of his parents. So, she decided to follow the game, act as if nothing was happening.
Perhaps, it had been desperation what had led her there, after all.
Desperation, such a simple word, holding so much meaning. She never paused to consider the real meaning of the word, until then. Stupid, considering how it was the worst of the times to stop to consider anything.
As soon as she heard Harry screaming from the upper floor, she knew they were doomed. Still, instead of running away and hiding, she ran upstairs. What she saw horrified her in many possible ways. But she didn't stop to process it, she ducked, avoiding the snake's attack.
She and Harry had tried to hurt in any way the snake, but it was stronger and bigger than any of them. She was thrown hard into the wall, and fell into something soft. A bed, she realized a second later.
Her brain yelled her to move, but her muscles refused. They were sore from anguish, cold and now being thrown into a wall.
She heard noises, quick footsteps and felt Harry besides her. A second later he pulled her up and she screamed of pain. Every nerve of her body were reacting.
Harry had screamed something, but her brain didn't seem to process it, so she limited to just stare to him dumbly, before he pulled her to her feet, and jumped into a table, and into the window, but before they could reach it, there was a loud bang and everything crashed.
She had done a last attempt to kill the snake, but the force of her spell wasn't supposed to be that strong. Both, Harry and her fell to the ground. She hit her head into something, and her body complained.
But, she gathered all her will managed to move her head a little. Everything was dizzy and spinning, but found Harry laying just a short distance from her. Her hand moved on her own and grabbed his.
But he did not look to her. He was looking up, to the one who had caused the spell. For they hadn't been able to leave the house in time, Voldemort had reached them, and now was looking down to them, a victorious smile on his lips.
That was how they had ended up there. They had clumsily gotten to their feet, facing him. If they were going to die, they were going to die bravely. Harry had once told her that, and she reminded herself that she had agreed to him. She couldn't back out then, not after all.
"Thought about escaping, didn't you?" he said.
Harry swallowed, and Hermione could feel him shaking, but he never let go off her hand.
"It has been a long road, hasn't it, Potter? You have been avoiding me for months now, but this is as far as you are going..."
He looked over to her, just a second, as if deciding that it was not worth to loose his time looking over to her.
Nagini moved over to him, and he tilted his head a little, listening to what she knew Harry could understand too, but she couldn't.
"What did you want the sword for, Potter?"
Close your mind, please, thought Hermione. Do not let him know about them, please. At the same she prayed he didn't decide to dig into hre mind too, for she knew she couldn't hide anything.
"What for, Potter!?" he screamed now.
He got no answer. Harry's jaws were clenched, and his left fist was closed, but his hand never let go off Hermione.
"You know I could get it out as easily..." he threw a small look over to Hermione. He couldn't have been any clearer.
Hermione realized she was now shaking, visibly. Harry's grip tightened in her hand, if it was possible.
He was going to torture her to get the truth out of her. She knew she couldn't hold longer, she had never been tortured. And she wasn't Strong like Harry. She couldn't hold longer.
"Let her go, she has nothing to do with this" said Harry, facing Voldemort.
"Oh, please" he said. "She has everything to do with this, otherwise she would be safe in another place"
He took his wand out and pointed at her. He stared at her for a second, then whispered: "Crucio"
The pain she felt was like no other. Her skin burned, and her already sore muscles protested. Her knees gave in and she hit the floor hard. Everything was black, and a shade of different colors, there was nothing more than pain in the world, and death was a bliss.
Then, it stopped, as easy as it had started. She was shaking, moaning, whimpering, and a few seconds later she landed on reality. She felt warm hands around her, holding her up, and a conversation.
"Leave her!" Harry screamed, his voice trembling.
"Tell me, mud blood! What are you doing here?"
Even if she had decided to give in, she didn't had the strength to speak. Then, she felt the pain again, this time her voice did respond. But nothing coherent came. Just a loud shriek, and cries.
The pain stopped but she kept crying. Her mind was dizzy. If it wasn't for Harry's arms around her, she would have gave in already.
She looked up, and found Voldemort looking into her eyes. She had never seen him before, but she had imagined him a thousand times. Had imagined the horror Harry had to face, but that was worst than her worst nightmares.
His eyes pierced her every soul, they were cold, and unfamiliar to anything. They held nothing but hate, outrageous hate, and misery. She tried to feel pity but him, but she found she couldn't.
"Fine, if that's the way you want it" he said. He then pointed his wand to Harry, before using the Crucio spell on him.
She felt the warm arms around her fall and shake, but she didn't even had the strength to look over to him. She just stayed there, shaking, her eyes not really falling into anything. So, that was death. She was going to die in a Christmas night, with Harry's body besides her.
At least she wasn't going to die alone, she thought. For a second she feared, Voldemort was going to leave her alive, but she dismissed the idea almost immediately.
It took her a second longer to realize that Harry had stopped shaking, and was then standing up, gathering all of his strength, apparently. She held into his arm and get up, as well. He wasn't going to stand alone, she had decided that a long time ago, if she could stop that.
Voldemort laughed at their clumsily efforts to stand up, then pointed his wand again to Harry.
"Death, Potter? Is that what you want? I would have desired to have... more glory. But it seems Godric's Hollow is glorious enough for you." He laughed loudly, a cold, humorless laugh. "Then, you shall have it."
He pointed his wand to her, but shocked his head, then pointed back to Harry.
She just acted in the moment. The adrenaline was working its way into her body, and she found she was strong and fast again. Her legs moved, and soon she was standing between Harry and Voldemort.
Voldemort glared over to her, amazed. But, then laughed. "Move!"
"NO!" she screamed, louder than she had expected. Adrenaline was glorious.
"Move, I say, you idiot!" he ordered.
She felt Harry's hands on her waist, and she rested her back on his chest. But his hands weren't trying to comfort her, or hold her on her place, much less. They were trying to get her off the way. "Move" he whispered.
"No" she said, flatly.
"Please, Hermione..." he begged. His voice was calm and steady, but his hands were strong.
"Listen to him, girl! Be wise!" screamed Voldemort. She faced him, lifting her chin and met his gaze. She tried to show in that gaze all of her courage. A courage that had returned just moments before.
But he pointed his wand, nonetheless. "Move" he ordered one last time.
She raised her eyebrow. "Do it" she said.
Then, there was a loud noise, a cracking noise and Voldemort stopped. He looked over to them, but turned on the spot and Disapparated.
The door behind him opened and shadows appeared, but her eyes lost focus and everything went dark and dizzy.
Before she lost her ground, she felt the arms behind her pulling up. That was the last thing she knew before she faded into the welcome darkness.
