Dead and Gone
During the war, Hermione went M.I.A. Everyone thought she was dead and after a few years, everyone moved on. Including Ron. But what happens when she resurfaces, seemingly unharmed?
A/N: First chapter is very short. The later chapters I believe are going to be longer unless you guys like the short chapters. Please R & R. I'm not too sure about this story atm, so let me know if you want me to continue.
Chapter One: Whispers
George made his way towards Fred's grave. Usually he only visited on Sundays but today was different. Today he heard whispering. Something was drawing him to the grave. He stumbled through the foggy morning listening to the voices, but he couldn't understand what they were saying. The voice seemed to tug at the string of his heart, pulling him towards the grave he visited every weekend for three years. Opening the old wooden gate, George made his way over the rough dirt paths, being careful not to trip. The whispering continued and he placed a hand on his wand. Someone was standing in front of Fred's grave. No one visited Fred but him. Not even Ron or Ginny. Not Bill or Charlie or Percy. Not even his parents. Walking closer, the figure became more clear through the fog.
His attempt to approach in silence failed when he stepped on a twig and it gave an unusually loud snap, drawing the attention of the unknown mourner. George would have turned tail and ran if he had been a lesser man, but the chocolate eyes that watched him through blood soaked skin, only seemed to entice him and he drew closer. He came to stand a few feet away from the stranger and watched as they turned back to the grave. Kneeling down, they placed a rose on the soft earth. Turning, they walked past George, never making eye contact again. George watched as they walked away, disappearing into the fog. Turning back to Fred's grave, he walked over and bent down. He picked up the rose and stared at it. It was perfect. A beautiful deep crimson color, he found himself unable to look away.
Suddenly there was a loud blood curtailing scream and George spun around to face the wall of fog the stranger had walked through. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up and he spun back around towards Fred's headstone and jumped in fright as he saw the stranger standing on the other side. They cocked their head to the side and stared at him through dark eyes. They seemed familiar. Looking closer, George's eyes widened. He was about to say something when the stranger's head flew back towards the dark night sky and a pained scream erupted from their mouth. George watched in horror as blood stains began to appear on their shirt. It soaked through, dripping from the now seemingly mutilated body and they screamed again as a large gash appeared on their collarbone. The ground behind Fred's grave turned red as blood poured from the screaming body. As sudden as it had started, the stranger stopped screaming. They looked at George as blood rained from the deep gashes on their body. George watched, too afraid to run, as they walked around Fred's headstone and stopped directly in front of him. They placed two cold and bloodied hands on his shoulders and stood up on their toes. George could feel their breath on his skin as they leaned in towards his ear. It was the voice that whispered to him, drawing him towards Fred's grave. It was faint, almost inaudible and hurried, so hurried that it sounded like one word, but it was there and he heard it clear as day.
"Save me, George."
George shot up in his bed, drenched in sweat. Jumping from bed, he pulled on some clothes and rushed from his flat towards the cemetery. Running through the city of graves, he finally came to Fred's. He stopped dead in his tracks as he saw someone standing in front of Fred's grave. They bent down and placed a crimson rose on the grass. He took a step forward, stepping on a twig. He looked down as it cracked, afraid to look up. Afraid to see the secret mourner. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and looked up. Taking another deep breath, trying to prepare himself, he opened his eyes and stared at the figure standing beside Fred's grave. They were just how they were in the dream, save for the blood stained skin and clothes. There was a large scar on their collarbone, exactly where the large gash had appeared in the dream. Their chocolate eyes met his and they simply starred at each other before he finally broke the silence.
"Hermione."