TITLE: Musical Notes
SUMMARY: Two people find themselves the sole survivors in London after World War Three. Their friends and family are in Scotland. With no transport, they walk across England - towards a family that may or may not be alive to greet them…
PAIRING: Hermione/Draco
WARNING: Death, violence, prophetic, smut, language. Nice and dramatic.
CHANGES: All human, AU
A/N: Can't remember what exactly inspired this one. Just thought about it, and thought, hmmm, why not? So, WW3 has just taken place, with the nuclear bombs and so on, and Hermione and Draco must get back to Scotland, to find the ones they love, sheltering at Hogwarts.
This chapter is Hermione's diary, written after they've arrived in Scotland. The rest of the chapters, will tell their story.
Dear Diary,
We crossed the border today. The further north we go, the worse the damage seems to be. Already I doubt that we will find the others alive. It no longer seems impossible that Draco and I are the only ones left - not just in Britain, but in the world. Draco keeps telling me not to give up hope - but I think I already have. Already I'm questioning why we are still walking. I am almost sure we will find nothing but a ruin. What happens then? It's a chilling thought to think that this, in fire and radiation, this is how the whole world ends. This is how everything grinds to a halt. Humanity destroyed itself.
I am writing this so if anyone or anything - whatever evolves when the whole of humanity is dead and gone - if it is ever found, it can be a lesson. It can be a lesson to whatever inhabits the earth when we are gone. I'm sure they'll do a better job of it than we ever did. So I am going to tell my story. And I'll tell Draco's too. How we found ourselves walking from London to the Hebrides, to find the ones we love - when we weren't even sure if they were still alive. We still aren't - yet when the sun rises over the wastes that was once the Scotland-England border, we will walk on. Because they may be. They might be waiting for us. If they aren't, we need to find a way to contact America, Europe and The Far East. We need to find any survivors. We need to know if we are all that's left. If we are, then we'll have to either live our lives until we die - or carry on the human race. Neither option appeals much. Why would I bring kids into this stinking world? When we destroyed it, why would I help it continue? I'm not even sure if I'm even able to have kids anymore. Can Draco? I watch him staring at the fire he started for us. It won't tell him anything.
I walked from London. We have seen the major cities burn. I have seen no survivors, although we searched. We left the frequency we had on the walkie talkie I carry strapped to my bag in every city, every shop we passed, we left the frequency. But the radio remains silent. When we got to Manchester, there was nothing left. The fires still burnt more than a week after the bombs stopped falling. Still. We saw the bodies - some of them. What was left of them. Liverpool was no longer burning, but was virtually destroyed. Parts of York still stood - the Gates of the Old City swung in the breeze - the wall around them no longer existed. Nearly three thousand years of history was destroyed in seconds. We have seen no other traces of humanity. No life. We didn't have time to search thoroughly. We shouted, left messages, and we saw the bodies everywhere we went. We can't even steal a car. The roads were jammed with cars - people trying to flee to the countryside, thinking they'd be safer there. Parts of Hadrian's Wall still stand - and we make camp tonight nearby. There has been no contact from America, or Europe. The whole world seems to be dead. We try to reach the USA every time we go through a city with a TV shop - sending a video recording, via the satellites. But no reply ever comes, and we move on, one more shred of hope left behind. Every radio frequency we can get is used to transmit a message, waiting for the crackling static to stop, for a voice to come through from somewhere, anywhere. But the static doesn't stop, and neither do we.
We keep walking. But my story must be told - and I will tell it now. When the whole of humanity burns to nothing, what hope do we have of survival? But I will have my story down on paper, so if the human race does, by some miracle, survive this, then they will know how humans almost killed the entire world.