Hello! Me again! So, I probably should be working on the thousands of other fanfics I'm working on right now instead of writing a new one, but I had the inspiration for this story last night and... I think I can take it far. Please note that this has absolutely no relation to the movie with the same title that just came out in theaters... yuck.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I do, however, own a monkey stuffed animal that will attack... but only when my friend Caitlin maneuvers it.
She opened her eyes suddenly. She stared up at the enormous ceiling above her, tracing over the woodwork and the color.
She slowly sat up in bed, scanning the room around her. There were white beds pushed against the walls. Candles lit up the room. White curtains seemed to separate the different beds. The curtains were so close to the candles that she was amazed that the curtains did not catch fire.
She quickly looked for her parents. Wouldn't they be here with her, wherever here was? They were just sitting at home; she was reading and her parents were down in the kitchen. This brought another question to her mind.
Where was she?
A scream started up her throat, but she thrust it down. She wasn't somewhere she knew; for all she knew she was kidnapped or something of the sort. Alarming whoever was here was probably the worst thing she could do. Though, she had to do something: she had to get out.
She swung her legs over the bed and quietly placed her feet on the floor, trying desperately not to creak the bed as she lifted off it. She suddenly felt a wave of vertigo hit; she was much taller than she remembered. Stunned, she glanced down at herself.
She was about a foot taller than she remembered, with long legs and curves. Her hair, which was normally a bush, was tamed into small ringlets and came down to about half of her torso. She barely registered the long-sleeved nightgown she was wearing; she never wore anything like that at home. Normally, it was just a ratty old t-shirt and some shorts.
What happened to her?
She felt the scream start again, and she had to fight harder to prevent it from coming out again. She took a deep breath and slowly took a baby step foreword. When she didn't fall, she took another step, slowly going for the door.
About 15 steps later, she placed her foot wrong on the floor. She felt as well as heard the rather loud squeak coming from the floor.
"Oh, bugger."
Suddenly, the candles flickered on to flood the entire room with light. It was like someone turned on the floodlights on the highway. She blinked rapidly and covered her eyes childishly. She curled into her chest and turned away from the door, which had just been thrown open.
"HERMIONE!" someone shouted. She felt arms being thrown around her, enveloping her. She was pulled to someone's chest. They were stroking her hair, kissing the top of her head and forehead.
She was confused. The voice that shouted her name sounded masculine. She did not have a male friend, or, judging by the way he was holding her, a boyfriend. Hermione pulled away from the hug and looked up.
A beaming boy with emerald green eyes stared down at her. He had glasses and mused up jet black hair; it looked like he was sleeping. He was about a head taller than her and he had an odd lightning-bolt shaped scar on the side of his forehead.
Who was he?
"Hermione! We've been waiting ages for you to wake up. You've been in a coma for… six months. Voldemort tried to attack to and you fought back wonderfully, but Belatrix came up behind you and shot a purple spell at you and you collapsed, but you don't have to worry about her because I took care of her. I can't believe you're back, 'Mione! I've missed you so much!" the boy shouted, wrapping her back in his arms.
Hermione tried to comprehend what he just said. She had no idea who Voldemort was or what a Belatrix was. And spells? He must be insane.
Hermione pushed herself away from him and furrowed her brow, completely confused.
"Who are you?" she asked, completely stunned.