Title: Gone With the Wind
Pairing: Harry Potter/Hermione Granger and Tom Riddle/Harry Potter
Rating: Mature
Summary: It was as if she had never existed. The wind slowly caresses my face, lulling me into a false sense of calmness. Meanwhile, the scent of blood floats through the air, yet I am immune to it. Before me, you stand, beckoning me forth silently with eyes filled with adoration. I wish I could go with you, love, but I can't. No matter how much I wish to believe this isn't true, you aren't real.
Harry's Point of View
It's lonely here.
Inside this dreary place, shadows roam, keeping to themselves and leaving me stuck in a haunting silence. Upstairs, a piano is being played but its melody isn't one of peacefulness. No, it's strong and fast, powerful in its entirety. The strokes of the cord strike deep within me, leaving me feeling weightless as it shakes me to the very core.
Whenever I go upstairs to see who is causing those strong sensations within me, I see no one and the dusty piano sits in the corner, the normally beautiful mahogany keys covered up with a rather sketchy wood.
A soft breeze comes from the window and the moon illuminates my surroundings yet instead of feeling peaceful, I feel terror clawing at my insides. I run to the door, hoping that it's not what I think it is, but I'm too late. The door closes and I'm trapped inside, the piano suddenly beginning to play with fervor.
My eyes snap to it, daring someone to be there. My heart's thumping wildly in my chest and at this point I want to scream out, but I don't. Instead, I stare at the piano, beautiful relief rushing through my veins.
No one is there. No one is with me.
But if that were true… Why did the sound of the piano continue to echo throughout the room?
Boom!
The strokes are powerful, awakening something inside of me that I had thought died long ago.
In my ears, my heartbeat sounds, growing louder and louder with each and every moment. At this point, I think I am screaming, but I can't hear it. No, not with the furious pounding that threatens to overwhelm me.
I clutch my head, begging for relief yet at the same time, not knowing what I want relief from.
Darkness begins to make itself known at the edges of my vision but before it can consume me, you're there. Your brown hair is still as bushy as it was all those years ago and the chocolate color of your eyes bore into my green ones with the same intensity. You're smiling, Hermione. I wonder why that is? Have I said something funny?
You're extending your hands towards me, the sweet smile never leaving your lips and I take them, happy that you're with me.
The loud thumping of my heart begins to die down along with the piano until silence rings out.
I always knew you were the key, love. Thank you so much for saving me.
I try to speak but nothing comes out. All I can manage are gasps and soundless words. You grin at me, eyes twinkling mischievously and before I can even react, you're screaming.
"Ah!" Your voice is growing higher and higher as the seconds tick by, threatening to deafen me with its high pitch frequency. I scramble towards you and grab your hands, but you merely push me away, brown eyes closed and clutching your throat as if someone were choking you.
What's wrong, love? Can I help the pain go away?
Before I can make another attempt to get to you, your eyes flash open and a strong blast knocks me to the floor.
The darkness returns. It's making it's way to me, bringing me within its icy hold and I open my eyes, wishing to get to you but I can't.
You're on the ceiling now. You're screaming, eyes opening and closing in rapid succession and I can hear you panting loudly from where I stand.
I'm trying to get to you, panic making itself known in my chest but some invisible force is holding me down.
You're screaming louder and, as if it were the signal it had been waiting for, the piano begins to sound once more, each stroke of the keys leaving me breathless.
It hurts, Hermione. It hurts so bad…
Opening my eyes, I look straight into yours but I didn't expect to see what I see.
Anger, hate, accusation, and rage all rolled into one, burning me with their intensity.
What have I done? I wonder, but it's too late. The mystery pianist reaches its crescendo and the whole world seems to ring for two long moments before everything goes white.
When I open my eyes once more, you're on the floor, blood staining your white gown. Your mouth is open in a soundless scream and your hair lay in a disarray upon the ground.
Hermione, dearest, why are you on the ground? Hermione… why aren't you moving?
"She's dead, you know?" A voice asks from behind me and I immediately turn, eyeing the figure in the doorway with disdain.
"She's not dead," I retort, making a step towards her prone body. The figure behind me doesn't like that though. They move forward, strong hands immediately seizing my thin waist.
"She's not coming back," they whisper, but I refuse to believe them. I step forward again and they tighten their grip, growling warningly in my ear.
"Step away from her, Harry," the figure commands. Turning around, I look straight into red eyes.
"I won't," I vow. Crimson eyes flash with anger and a rough hand comes up to grab my throat, tightening to the point of pain.
"We made a bet, Harry," he informs, seeming to enjoy it as I tremble within his hold. "If I managed to find you within that horrible landscape you call a brain, I could keep you."
"That doesn't count," I manage to say, shaking my head ruefully. "You killed Hermione, Tom. She was innocent."
"I thought you said she wasn't dead?" Tom retorts, a shark like grin lighting up his features. I open my mouth to refute him but my eyes flash over to the beautiful girl laying on the floor, looking like a broken marionette as she faces the wall, blood staining her all white gown in beautiful splatters.
"She's not," I protest, sounding weak to my own ears. Tom merely smiles, letting his hand ease up slightly.
"She is, darling. It's okay if you're not ready to acknowledge it yet, love. You'll have plenty of time to get over her," he consoles. I merely shake my head, gazing at her body sadly.
"I'll never get over her, Tom. She was my best friend, my confidant, and my girlfriend. She'll always be my number one," I promise. Tom smiles, cruelty dripping off of it in waves.
"Just you wait, precious," he whispers. "I'll show you that you are completely mine. It's impossible for you to care about someone so trivial."
Rather than saying anything else, I smile sadly at him, pitying him for his foolishness.
"Whatever you say, Tom. Whatever you say."
Written for:
Care of Magical Creatures - Assignment 5 - Alternatively, write about the murder of something/someone innocent.
February Word Count: 1227. Current word count for the month: 9742.
Writing Club! - The Word Prompt Express - 763. See
Slightly off his rocker Harry! Alternate Reality