Usual disclaimers apply
--
Hermione was suffocating.
The pressure mounting
Was unbearable, the mix between the
Impending dread of what was coming,
And the cloth gag that a pair of rough hands was stuffing
Into her already silent mouth.
She was always silent.
It didn't make any difference
What she said,
No one believed her.
Harry? An abusive husband?
The boy who lived? An alcoholic?
The chosen one? A murderer?
She used every ounce of strength she had,
But it wasn't enough.
She kicked and screamed and cried,
But she was trapped.
Both inside her own mind and the ropes binding her.
Suffocating her