Green grass moved softly from side to side, while fluffy-looking clouds slowly flew through the clear sky. One lonely person stood on Hogwarts grounds, her bushy brown hair twirling noiselessly with each stroke of the air. She was breathing through her small button noise unhurriedly; she didn't have anywhere else to be as this year, her best friends had deserted her.
Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, had simply shaken his head sadly when she had mentioned that they go back to the restored school and finish their education. Ronald Weasley, upon hearing this, almost choked on his meal, and could only respond with "I can't."
Of course he couldn't, Hermione mused sadly. Fred's death had hit all of them with a blast, crushing their fearless and painless lives to dust. On some level, she was surprised to see the Weasleys going through it so badly because from the very beginning, they were aware that at some point, the war would affect everybody. Not to mention, they befriended one very special boy-Harry Potter.
After the funeral, things seemed to get even worse. George could barely move from the twins' room, almost forgetting about their small joke shop-'bout which Ron gladly reminded him to return to. The hurt twin solemnly swore that he would never set foot in that shop ever again.
Fortunately for the Weasleys, George dug himself out of his hole after a few months. Unfortunately for Hermione, he asked Ronal d to help him manage the store. That pushed her buttons even harder, and even while she acted the part of the understanding girlfriend, she was hurting. So when, barely a couple of days later, she came across an article in the Daily Prophet that announced Hogwarts' reopening, she made up her mind.
That's why Hermione Granger, one third of the Golden Trio, stood by herself now, keeping her eyes on the blue sky. The young witch felt alone in this place. The castle and all of its surroundings seemed to be perfectly rebuilt-however; she couldn't feel that comforting warmness that came with being at Hogwarts.
Shrugging away all gammas of colliding emotions, Hermione sighed loudly. Her legs began to move of their own accord, and soon enough, she was travelling through the oh-so-well-known castle. The walls still had a cold, damp feeling about them, portraits still liked to chatter-sometimes even going as far as disappearing from their frames completely- and the magic stairs still moved whenever they were bored, causing the students standing on them to curse under their breath.
One could say nothing had changed. War had never happened.
However, Hermione knew better than to forget. Walking slowly towards the portrait of the Fat Lady, she tried to clear her mind of the buggering thoughts.
"Hello, dearie." The Fat Lady said. "Password?"
Hermione looked directly at the older woman, not even attempting to hide her mood. "Together Forever."
Nodding, the Fat Lady moved to the side, revealing the hidden entrance leading to the Gryffindor Common Room. Hermione, not sparing the portrait another glance, walked through the hole and, as she did, warmness enveloped her whole being.
"Hermione!" The well-known red-head stood up pompously from the game of Wizard Chess she had been playing.
"Hermione, where have you been? I was looking for you! I have a letter for Harry and Ron for you."
Nodding, the bushy-haired girl accepted the brownish envelope addressed to Hermione Granger. "Thank you, Ginny."
"You're welcome." Ginny replied, shrugging. "Where have you been, anyway? I was in the kitchens, library, hospital wing…even the owlery! Where did you go?"
"Oh, you know…" Hermione shrugged this time. "I was walking around…thinking."
Ginny shook her head slowly, but she smiled nonetheless. "I guess…"
The older Gryffindor sighed. "Yeah." Then she frowned, remembering the letter she had received. It was currently held tightly in the palm of her hand. "Do you have any idea what it's about?" She asked, gesturing to the letter.
The flame-headed girl shook her head. "No. I haven't the slightest."
"Looks like I'll have to read it then." Hermione deadpanned. "I'll be in my dormitory."
She started to walk out of the Common Room when Ginny placed a hand on her shoulder. The ginger had noted the deep frown on Hermione's face, and spoke reassuringly. "It's probably nothing bad. I think they just missed you." At that, Hermione's teeth clenched in an effort not to say anything. "Besides, are you sure you want to go back there?"
"It's my room, Ginny." Hermione replied flatly.
Ginny shrugged it off. "Yes, I know Hermione, but…" A sigh escaped her lips. "Shouldn't we keep together now? It's our last year at Hogwarts. Harry and Ron…Most of the Seventh Years didn't come back and I know how lonely you can feel, Hermione."
"I beg to differ, Ginny," She cut in coldly, "but I'm well okay by myself."
Ginny sighed once more, slowly taking her hand off Hermione's shoulder. "If you say so…Anyway, if you want to talk, if you need help…you know where to find me."
Nodding in understanding, Hermione's gaze lingered on the young witch as she turned on her heel and headed back to her friends. For a split second, Hermione's eyes caught a glimpse of a silver prefect badge pinned proudly on the left side of Ginny's robes.
Not wanting to lose any more time- or think about the pang in her stomach when she saw Ginny's badge- Hermione walked out of the portrait hole and into a lighted corridor.
Soon enough, as she was on the stairs, jumping from step-to-step to the next landing, she heard something. Thinking fast, she slipped the letter into her pocket while at the same time pulling her wand out.
The stairs stopped with a jerk and a loud groan, leaving her at the entrance of another dimly-lit corridor. As soon as her foot touched the stone floor, she knew something was terribly wrong. She could feel something. No…not something. Hermione could feel someone's pure magic aura.
Goosebumps appeared on her arms, and she could feel a steely coldness creeping around her. It was as if that unknown magic was trying to put out her own; it was trying to suffocate her. For a second, Hermione felt dizzy and light-headed. Then she wobbled a little and fell to her knees. The unknown presence was so overwhelming; she could barely breathe through her open mouth.
The noise came again. In some distant corridor, the odd sound was pooling around in chilly, bloody waves. It had strange pulsating properties that gave Hermione a throbbing headache-which she tried to relieve by resting her hot, sweaty forehead on the stone floor. It did no good though, and a few moments later, she had to close her eyes against the horrible pain that seemed to emanate from inside her boggled mind.
Fighting against it, Hermione remembered the Cruciatus Curse. Somehow, the pain was similar, yet completely different. She wouldn't writhe on the floor, wouldn't scream…and she didn't.
Upon feeling her resistance, that dark, unknown magic seemed to change plans. It looked that no matter how it tried; the dark magic couldn't put out that radiating, flickering light magic that was her own.
After a while, somewhere between fainting and still fighting, Hermione realized that she could breathe easier and easier. With a thudding sensation in her head, she slowly rose on her shaking legs. One salty drop of sweat slid from her forehead. Gripping her wand hard in her right hand, she braced herself for everything that was to come her way; she was ready as she had never been before.
The war might have ended, and people might have forgotten, but not her. It wasn't that easy, and she was well aware of that. So what if Voldemort had fallen? It still left an enormous number of Death Eaters more than ready to become new Dark Lords.
Besides, whoever she was about to meet was bound to be seriously powerful. Waves of magic pooled slowly, icing her bones. It reminded her of Dementors, and she wouldn't have been surprised if she saw a delicate layer of ice covering the stone walls and floors. Carefully, she put one foot forward, and then the other. Magic flew around her, surrounding her from each and every corner, yet she bravely continued on her way. The darkness was sickening, and the sounds were becoming louder with each step. She glanced around the corner down the corridor, where magic was flowing like mad, and sighed loudly before waving her wand in slow motion.
"Expecto Patronum!"
A silvery otter shot out from the tip of Hermione's wand, and she waited silently before speaking a few words to the celestial otter. It then bounded of in the direction of the Headmaster's office.
Steeling herself once more, Hermione carefully walked down the corridor in a fighting stance. She was surprised to find no one there, not one lonely soul. However, dark magic still swirled about her menacingly, and it was so thick that it was almost touchable.
Huffing, she started toward the one door she could still make out in the hallway. If she was correct, she would be able to find out who was dumb enough to use such dark magic.
She found herself growing more thoughtful when, with each step closer to the door, it started cracking with raw energy-something she had never seen before in her life. She stopped before the chamber, thinking. Nothing and nobody attacked her on her way there, and that could only mean two things. Barely thinking about her choices, Hermione raised her wand.
"Depulso!"
A red beam shot from the tip of her wand and connected with the wood surface of the door, busting it out of its frame, and into the chamber. At that same exact moment, the dark, powerful magic went crazy with energy. A cracking noise filled up the corridor with such power that Hermione was sure that it would echo throughout the entire castle.
Darkness and light collided. Magic mingled with magic, tearing into each other.