Disclaimer: It's still not mine. Bummer.
AN: So here's the prologue to this story. It's very different to what I normally write but I'm trying to branch out, lol. I hope this tweaks your interest. I'm pretty excited to continue to write this. I'm not really stuck on the name of it yet. It might change if I can think of something better. Anyway, hope you all like it. Reviews would be greatly appreciate. Thanks for reading!
Prologue.
She knew she was dreaming the nightmare again. She knew the images around her were merely figments of her overactive mind. She knew no one was hurt and no one was dead. But the dream was so vivid, so heartbreakingly real, that she knew deep down in her heart that even if it wasn't actually happening now, it was going to happen in reality and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
She was in a cold graveyard. There was a Cup, a trophy of some kind off to her right. Behind her was a grave stone with the name Tom Riddle carved into its surface. In front of her, facing towards her, were two boys. One had a familiar shock of messy black hair, green eyes and a lightning bolt shaped scar. He was older than he was supposed to be. Over a year. The second was unfamiliar to her. His grey eyes, confused and afraid, held her own. He stood protectively over the first boy who was now clutching his scar in agony.
She tore her gaze off them and turned around as the older boy shouted something at a hunched figure that was slowly approaching them. Then she heard the coldest and most terrifying voice she ever heard.
"Kill the spare."
There was a flash of green light. It soared over her shoulder and she watch, horrified as it hit the grey-eyed boy.
"Cedric!" The younger one called out.
She gasped. He was dead. His grey eyes held nothing but the cold blackness of death.
No. She thought to herself. Not him. Not again. Why can't I ever stop this?
Hermione Granger woke with a gasp as she wrenched herself out of the dream. Taking deep breaths to calm herself, she pushed back her Gryffindor styled hangings, thankful for the silencing charm she used, and went to the bathroom.
She splashed cold water on her face and began to analyze the nightmare. She'd been having it every night for the past two weeks. Something was definitely wrong.
It was the same every time. The same graveyard, the same tombstone, the same people were always there. And in every dream he died. In every stupid dream Cedric Diggory died.
But why him? She asked herself for the thousandth time. She barely knew him.
She sighed as she glanced at her watch. It was three o'clock in the morning. She rubbed her eyes wearily. She was so tired. These dreams had been keeping her up all night every since they began.
She quietly got back into bed, pulled her hangings closed and performed the silencing charm again. Hermione closed her eyes, praying that the nightmare would stay away.