Her lungs were on fire.
But she kept running, she had to. The tall shelves on either side of her passed by in a blur but she couldn't stop to read the aisle numbers to reassure herself that she was going the right way.
Harry kept ahold on her sleeve, dragging her along while keeping his other arm over his head to block the thousands of fragments of glass from slashing his face.
Luna, Ginny and Ron weren't far ahead but she thought she'd never be able to catch up with them.
Suddenly, an arm shot out and wrenched Harry backwards by his shoulder.
Without thinking, she shouted out "STUPEFY!" and he was released at once.
She didn't turn around to see how close the Death Eaters were on their heels. She could almost feel Dolohov's rancid breath upon her neck, making her feet run even faster underneath her.
She could see the prophecy glowing softly in Harry's hand as he ran. She wanted to reach out and grab it, shake it fiercely, making it divulge all of its secrets to her. She wanted to be the first to know.
"Look!"
Her eyes shot up to where Harry was pointing. A door!
Sliding on their heels, they pushed themselves through the crack in the door and slammed it hard behind them.
"Colloportus!" she gasped, sealing the door. She could almost hear the bodies of the Death Eaters bounce hard off of the heavy door.
They managed to dive under a set of desks just as the Death Eaters made their way into the room.
It was all a blur. The more she blinked, the fuzzier everything became.
She saw Harry launch himself from underneath the desks and begin to struggle with someone.
Before she knew it, she was on her feet screaming "STUPEFY!" and sending a jet of red light straight into the chest of a Death Eater.
Grabbing ahold of Neville's hand, she drug him into a small, dark office while Harry slammed the door behind us.
Another blur.
Within a second, she could feel herself sliding across the floor, smashing her head into a bookcase.
"We've got him!" she could hear a Death Eater screaming, "In an office off -"
Her hand shot up while her lips spat out "Silencio!"
Like a candle flame, the Death Eater's voice went out, leaving him wide-mouthed.
Harry managed to disarm the other with a swift flick of the wand.
"Well done, Ha -"
And then nothing. Everything was dark. Silent.
Hermione knew she had died.
__________________
Hermione shot up out of her bed, sweat dripping off of her forehead.
She glanced around quickly, trying to recognize the objects around her.
In the dark next to her lay several volumes of books, each held open with various items, including quills and pieces of parchment. Looking further across the room, she could make out Quidditch posters lining the walls and the face of Gwendolyn Morgan from the Holyhead Harpies smiling down at her from atop her broom.
She could then hear the gentle snores of Ginny puttering from her bed across the room.
Hermione slowly let out a sigh of relief.
She was at the Burrow, tucked snugly in her borrowed bed and safe from the grip of Death Eaters.
Well, for the time being anyway.
Hermione tucked back into her soft pillows and tried to relax herself again.
But she couldn't let her mind rest and it bubbled with anxiety, making her feet twitch.
She had never been as close to death as she had been that night.
It was the alarming reality that she was now in the middle of a war. And not only that, but she was standing in the front lines, with only a wand and the friends around her.
Shaking the thoughts out of her head, she bolted up and slid her feet down onto the icy wood floor.
'If I can't go back to sleep, maybe a midnight snack will help.'
After squeezing on her plush slippers, she tiptoed out of Ginny's room and out into the hall.
She continued past several doors, and behind each held a sleeping Weasley, all snoring no doubt.
By now she knew the Burrow like the back of her hand.
Other than Hogwarts and occasional stays at her parent's house in London, this was the place where she spend most of her time, reading by the fire in the sitting room, helping Molly cook for the family or even spending the afternoon in the garden, watching Harry, Ron and Ginny work on their broom skills.
She tiptoed down the stairs and into the kitchen.
Errol, lifting his head from his rustle of feathers acknowledged her with a single squawk.
"Hello Errol."
She managed to contort herself around the dining chairs and past Errol's perch and made it to the large refrigerator. She dug around a bit, not finding much of anything other than jars of marmalade, a loaf of molding bread and a pitcher of milk.
"Cereal it is then."
She pulled out the milk and rustled around in the cupboards until she found a box of corn flakes.
Just then, a small whimper echoed around the kitchen.
Hermione stopped pouring milk into the bowl and listened.
Silence.
She peered out into the shadowed hall leading back into the sitting room and stared until tiny dots began to form in front of her eyes.
"Is anyone there?"
After a few moments, Hermione could begin to make out a tall figure approaching the doorway and her grip on the milk pitcher tightened.
She could see two dim blue eyes, a soft rounded nose and...a thick mane of red hair.
"Oh, Arthur!" Hermione whispered out, uncoiling her fingers from the pitcher handle.
Arthur shot Hermione a smile, but his eyes seemed red and tired, as if he'd been rubbing them.
"Sorry to scare you Hermione," he whispered back, "I just came down for a quick cup of tea."
"It's alright," she said, holding up the box of corn flakes, "as long as you don't mind me stealing some cereal."
Arthur let out a small laugh and entered the kitchen. "Well, I don't know about that, they're pretty valuable around here."
Arthur walked over to the cupboards where Hermione was standing and began rummaging through them for some tea bags.
"Lucky you were able to find anything, the kitchen's usually cleared out by the end of the day."
He glanced down at her out of the corner of his eye as he kept searching.
Hermione dug a spoon into the bowl and retrieved a heaping bite of cereal.
"Well, it was between this and marmalade on molded bread." She closed her mouth around the spoon, accidently letting tiny streams of milk work their way down her chin.
Arthur pulled back a small box of tea and waved it around Hermione's face.
"Care for a cup?" he asked, his eyes smiling.
Hermione quickly wiped away the dribbles of milk and grabbed her bowl.
"Uh, no thanks. I'm fine now."
"Great."
Arthur began to shuffle around Hermione and to the kettle while Hermione found her way to the giant oak dining table, taking a seat.
Hermione watched him carefully as he rummaged a bag out of the box, filled the kettle with water, set it on the range and grabbed a mug out of the cupboard in one unbroken swoop.
Arthur caught her staring and laughed.
"I've been trying to make my tea the Muggle way for years now. With the kettle and everything. It never turns out as good as Magic-made tea, but I suppose it's become an old habit now."
Hermione took another bite of cereal and nodded, impressed.
"It's flawless. Just like a proper Muggle."
Arthur's eyes lit up excitedly. "Really?"
"Absolutely."
After a few minutes, the kettle began to sing out and Arthur poured it carefully into his cup.
He walked over to the table and took a seat across from Hermione.
"So tell me, what are you doing awake this late at night. Just hungry?"
There was a moment's pause as Arthur took a sip of tea while Hermione fiddled with her spoon.
"I had a bad dream, is all."
It took Arthur a moment, but then he nodded, understanding.
"I don't even really know why," she continued, "I mean, sure I've had my share of unpleasant experiences but Harry's have been quadrupled to what I've gone through, and I'm the one waking up in the middle of the night, clinging to my pillow."
Arthur leaned in slowly, his eyes full of worry.
"Hermione, you are a very strong person, and very brave, but even the strongest and bravest of us still have nightmares. What you have gone through in the past 5 years is more horrific than most people would experience in their lifetimes. You can't let these dreams frighten you."
Gently, Arthur reached out and placed a reassuring hand upon Hermione's.
She shot him a reassuring smile and glanced down at her nearly-empty bowl.
"Do you ever have nightmares, Mr. Weasley?"
His eyes seemed to glaze over for a moment, as if thinking incredibly hard about the question.
Then, he took a deep breath and nodded.
"I have them more than I'd care to."
Hermione could begin to see the red returning to his eyes.
'Had the redness been from crying?' Hermione thought to herself.
"About the war?" she asked, feeling his grip tighten ever so slightly on her arm.
"About many things."
Hermione nodded and left it at that. She could tell he had been turning these dreams around in his brain, and was quite possibly the reason he was up so late at night, wondering around in the dark.
"Don't worry," she cooed, placing her other hand on top of his and giving it a reassuring squeeze.
"Things will work themselves out. I know it."
A small smile grazed across Arthur's lips as he glanced down at their hands.
"Maybe."
They sat like that for several moments, longer than each thought they should have, before Hermione lifted her hand and grabbed ahold of her bowl.
"Well, I guess I should be heading back to bed."
She walked over to the sink and dropped the bowl and spoon carefully in.
Arthur remained at the table, still pensive after thinking. He sipped his tea slowly.
"Are you going to bed?" she asked, stopping at the table again.
A small grin curved around his lips. "No, not at the moment. I might stay up a while longer."
"Alright then."
With one last glance, Hermione tiptoed back out of the kitchen and up to her warm bed.
Arthur remained there for a while, his eyes searching deep down into his cup, the tea by now gone cold.
His eyes were red, but nothing came out.
The house was silent now, not even a creak from the floorboards whistling throughout the halls.
Only Arthur could hear a tiny noise, a voice, whispering inside his head.
Whispering the same thing over and over, like a mantra.
"Everything will work itself out. Everything will work itself out. Everything."