She was running through the hall ways, just out from class
Violin music in the background..
The smiles of her friends greeted her as she reached the front door.
"Ready for Hogsmeade?" they said, happy, smiling.
She laughed.
Her friends walked out the door.
She meant to do the same, but she couldn't move.
She looked back and saw books. Heavy books, holding her back.
Dragging her back.
"Help me!" she screamed, and her friends turned.
"Why don't you just come?"
"The books are holding me back, I can't!" she yelped.
Her friends' smiling faces turned into sneers.
"Well, aren't we a know-it-all?"
"Show-off!"
"No wonder nobody likes you!"
Green eyes became steely grey, red hair became silvery, and the word 'mudblood' sounded through the corridor.
She turned, and ran.
And the faces cam after her. And the books.
She rounded a corner, and saw her parents.
"Make us proud, honey," they said.
"Mum? Dad?"
"Make us proud, honey."
They drew closer.
She backed away.
The faces and books had caught up with her now, and forced her into a corner.
And all the time, the violin music.
How she hated that violin.
How she wanted to throw it into the wall and scream 'leave me alone'!
Her mother reached out, and grabbed her. She was holding up the violin.
"Make us proud, honey."
And her teacher, suddenly there, handed her papers.
"Delivered tomorrow!"
And the faces mocking her.
"Know-it-all!"
"Mudblood!"
A flash of green light, a horrid laughter, her friend falling over, dead.
Time stood still.
And she screamed.
--------------------------------
Ron woke up by the sound of a scream exactly at 2 AM in the night.
Where did it come from?
The lights were turned on, and he saw his classmates rub their eyes, looking just as bewildered as him.
He looked around, trying to spot the fire.
Then it hit him:
"The girls!" he yelled, and ran out the door, down the stairs, and though the corridor. Harry and Neville quickly followed.
Their door was open.
He rounded the corner into the room, and saw Lavender, kneeling by Hermione's bed.
Lavender turned, and stood up, revealing a sleeping Hermione.
But she was shaking, shivering, crying.
She was gasping for air, tossing and turning.
Ron didn't think.
He just ran over, and sat on her bedside.
He placed her head in his lap, and ran his hands through her hair.
Hermione stopped shivering.
He slowly rocked back and forth, trying to stop her from crying.
Lavender was a ditz, but she knew when to leave someone alone.
She just walked over to her bed, grabbed her pillow, and ushered the others out of the room.
They closed the door.
He leaned back against the wall, looking out of the window.
He saw the moon wander the sky, the stars fade, and a sly sun rise from the mountains far away. And all the time, he just sat there, running his hands through her hair.
Her breath was calmer now, and she wasn't sobbing anymore.
Now, only silent tears ran from her eyes.
Far away, the breakfast bell rang.
Ron didn't care.
She was still asleep.
He wasn't sure how long he sat there; but it was about midday when something finally happened.
She stirred in her sleep, and her blanket fell off her body.
He shifted his position, and made her head lean against is arm, as he leaned over and pulled the blanket over her again.
He reached for it, his arm accidentally touching her tie. It was cold, white, and like everything else on her, thin.
He straightened up, and looked down at her.
Why had he never seen how small and fragile she was before?
She looked like she was starving, and the bags under her eyes were as black as a winter night.
"Eherm..."
Ron turned, and at the threshold of the room, stood Minerva McGonnogall and Poppy Pomfrey.
"Professor!" he exclaimed, suddenly thinking of what it might look like with himself in Hermione's bed.
The professor just put a finger in front of her lips, and mouthed 'the common room'.
As the old matrone Pomfrey came over to Hermione, he unwillingly stood up, and followed the professor. He looked back, making sure Hermione was all right.
When they sat down in the common room, Ron realised how old the Transfiguration teacher looked. Old, and tired.
"Mister Weasley, could you please tell me what happened last night?" she said stiffly.
Even though he wanted to scream at her for being so insensitive, all he could say was:
"I think Hermione had some sort of nightmare, and I ...um...just didn't want to leave her."
McGonnogall nodded, understanding.
"I see. Now, have you noticed anything different with Miss Granger lately, Mister Weasley?"
He thought about it for a second, then shook his head.
"No. I mean, she's been studying for our N.E.W.T.'s like Fluffy was in her heels, but else? Nothing."
McGonnogall surveyed him for a bit, then took something out of her robes, sighing heavily.
"Ronald, did you know Hermione took these?" she said gently, and handed the small, white box to him.
He grabbed it and read.
Prozac.
"Oh fuck."
That was all he could say, despite all his thoughts and feelings, that was all.
"Oh fuck."
McGonnogall stood up, and left the room, leaving Ron alone with his thoughts.