Before A Bed of Lies

By: Hermione L. Granger

Discliamer: I don't own these characters.

A/N: Pretty dark. I don't know how much I like it. I got all depressed while looking at old pictures.

She felt dead. There was no other way to describe the feelings inside of her, the emptiness. An empty shell, that had reigned in her, ever since she had left, since she had fled. Her hopes had laid in a dream, in a world that doesn't, didn't, could never exhist. How perfect that world was. Oh God, how scared was she?

"So why do you still cling to him?" the six-teen year old muttered, "What are you doing here?" Hermione continued to ask herself. Tears stormed down her face, all around her in the cold, dark kitchen. This wasn't hers. None of it was, no matter what Krum said. What was she doing here, alone? Why had she left, she knew how much Harry and Ron must need her. But how much had she needed them that day? The day that still haunted her dreams, and even worse her memories.

****

"We've got a Potions test in half an hour, I'd think you two would be studding as well," Hermione snapped at her two best friends.

"Oh, Hermi, come off of it, it'll be easy, Snape hasn't given us anything hard in weeks," Harry said with a good natured grin.

****

How long ago had it been? Weeks? Months? Hermione had lost count.

****

She had gone back to her notes, barely noticing the owl that dropped the letter right in front of her. Ron had to bring it to her attention.

"Hermione? Earth to Hermione?"

"This is Houston, do you read Hermione? Repeat, this is space control Houston," George Weasley had cut in. Even in his seventh year, the twins were the class clowns.

"What?" she snapped, already on edge from her homework. Ron said nothing, just pointed to the letter.

"Oh," she replied, quickly opening it. She began reading it, then read it again. How could it say that?

Dear Miss Greanger, (It didn't even get her name right.)

We at the Ministry of Magic regreat to inform you of your parents death. They were murdered by Voldemort, but the attempt was covered to look like an elevator accident. We hope you agree to stay at Hogwarts for the remainder of the year, and through the summer, Professor McGongall has been notified. Thank you.

Jonathan Sofak

Assistant Muggle Tabs Officer

Hermione couldn't beleive it. She just barely saw the note at the bottem, written in an untidy scraw that almost resembled Rons.

Hermoine-

I'm sorry about all of this. If you want to take a few days off to recover, I'm sure Dumbledore would understand. The funeral is going to be held next Wednesday at noon. You know that if you need anything, we're here for you.

-Mr. Weasley

****

A few days? Try a year, Mr. Weasley. Which was how long Hermione had been hiding, how long she had been scared. So scared. Somehow, after the funeral, she had found herself, at his doorstep. Last year Krum had finished school, he had an apartment, a nice one. Hermone had gotten used to her little hide-away. She hadn't slept with him, but, as expected, she was seeing him. Hermione hated being tied down. She hated Krum.

Day after day she asked herself the same question, over and over. Why? Why her, why them? Why was it all her fault? She had brought her parents into this mess. She was the witch, she was the reason they were killed. Damn her.

Had she another choice? Where had the point of no return been? Why was there no return? Hermione wanted more than anything to return, to go back. Her parents, her sister. Her dead sister. She had gotten the notice when-a month ago? That sounded about right. And it finished her off. She could never go back. Why would she want too?

****

It was escliating. Everything was coming to a peak, and Harry saw no way out of it. He was stuck, stuck in the war, stuck in the school, stuck in his emotions. Hermione had it so easy. Just run away. Harry wanted to do the same, more than anything he had ever wanted to do before. That thought shammed him, shouldn't he want to help? He was the little boy hero, it was his duty. His duty, not his choice.

"Well what about Ron?" he asked himself hopelessly. His best friend Ron, who was no friend at all. Friends don't turn into empty shells. Ever since she had ran, he hadn't been the same, he was gone. Gone into a dream world where he was happy. Where Harry could've been happy. But Harry refused to get lost in a dream world. The horror was here, and now.