Tangled
DISCLAIMER: As the author of this fan fiction story I do not, in any way, profit from the story or claim any rights to the 'Harry Potter' universe. All creative rights to the 'Harry Potter' universe belong to J.K. Rowling. Thank you for letting me play in this amazing world.
A/N: I think the Malfoy Manor scene in Deathly Hallows was one of the most important and heart-wrenching parts of the whole series. I enjoy reading fan fiction about this scene because the books were written from Harry's point of view, which leaves us wondering how Ron and Hermione felt and reacted to her torture; I love the many interpretations in fanfiction. I wanted to write my own interpretation of this scene and its aftermath, about what would happen if Hermione did not mentally and physically recover so easily from her torture, as in the book; the fate of Neville's parents was always in the back of my mind as I was writing.
This first chapter is Hermione's disjointed thoughts and reactions to what is happening around her as Harry and Ron are breaking out of the cellar.
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CHAPTER ONE
Her body was burning. She needed to get up and get out of the tent. She needed to wake up Harry and Ron and get them out of the tent before they burned. She needed to grab their things or they would really be fucked if their few belongings were lost.
She tried to open her eyes but they were so heavy, and her hot painful skin wouldn't let her open them. She concentrated on moving her arms and her legs, needing to roll out of her bed and get to the boys.
Why is there a cold hardness under my body? Where am I? Why did I think there was a fire?
She focused on listening to her surroundings. Muffled voices reached her ears, voices that sounded angry and frantic. She needed to open her eyes and get out of there, make sure her boys were okay.
She attempted to force her eyes open once more, out of desperation. Finally her burning eyelids consented, and grey light and stone surrounded her vision, tilting dizzily at odd angles and forcing her to close them once more.
She felt, more than heard, someone walk toward her and stopped trying to move. A sudden crushing weight on her shoulders, pinning her to the cold ground, then a stinging burn in her forearm. The pain was getting worse and worse, to the point where she saw flashes of red and stars on the back of her eyelids, and she distantly heard somebody screaming, a horrible torturous sound. She felt the scream vibrate through her head and chest, and felt desperate to throw off the weight and burning and find the source of the screaming. Somebody might need her help. She couldn't just lay here, someone could be dying. Suddenly, the red was chased out of her vision, and a black inky substance slid into its place, making her feel numb, until it filled her vision and she couldn't feel or hear anything.
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Finally, the blackness she had sat in for a long time started to creep away. She didn't know how long she had been stuck and numb. The burning still smothered her skin, but she reminded herself she was on a cold surface, she couldn't be burning. Underneath the burning, the sensation of crackling electricity raced up and down her limbs with a painful, throbbing speed.
Something was dripping. Dripping on her arm, her face. It was a bothersome feeling, she wondered who was trying to irritate her; maybe the boys were trying to pull a prank on her. She decided to stay still and let them finish before she opened her eyes to surprise them. The same agitated voices were speaking in the background, and she wondered how noone in the room noticed she was being dripped on.
The warm dripping continued for a while, and then finally stopped. She forced her eyelids open, meaning to surprise her assailant, and saw many pairs of black shoes and bottoms of robes on the dizzily tilting floor, surrounded by bright flashes of light. Where were the Weasley's? Why couldn't she move and get off the floor? Who did this to her? Was everyone alright?
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Her mind felt fuzzy and hot. She tilted her head to the side and saw so much red. Red on her arm, red on the floor, Ron's red hair across the room. Ron. He was safe, it wasn't him she had heard screaming. She tried to open her mouth to call to him but he gestured to her to stay put and stay quiet, a motion which seemed slow and choppy to her vision.
Maybe she was in the castle somewhere, which would explain the stone floor.
She wished she could remember what they were doing, why her skin burned, why Ron was asking her to be quiet and still. She felt oddly separate from her body, her thoughts jumbled and confused, the pain present but detached. She decided to close her eyes to stop the dizzy room, knowing Ron was close.
She distantly felt her body being moved, and pain flared to life in her consciousness. She had never felt anything like it, as though her skin had been badly burned, her joints broken, her flesh carved with a knife.
Her eyes flashed open confused, she was staring at the floor from a distance, her legs not holding her body upright. What was? Maybe she was in a dream, sometimes her legs wouldn't co-operate in her dreams. A cold and sharp object was suddenly touching her neck and she struggled to move her arms to remove it. They wouldn't cooperate either.
Suddenly she was falling towards the floor, a rough landing that jarred her bones and left a ringing in her ears. Something landed sharply on her head and she fell back into a black haze, faintly hearing the sound of shattering glass around her, sharp stings, and a weight upon her once more.
Maybe a window had broken, that happened often around the castle, especially around Quidditch season. Bright lights flashed on the other side of her closed eyelids and she watched the light patterns, wishing they'd stop so she could go to sleep. These post-win Gryffindor parties got so rowdy, with butterbeer and firewhiskey passed around, the twins selling their joke items and setting off indoor fireworks, and loud music and noise keeping her up until the early morning.
Couldn't anyone see she was trying to go to sleep, and stop making such as racket?
Suddenly the weight was lifted off her once more, and she was picked up off the floor and cradled in warm arms. The body that held hers was breathing hard and trembling, heart pounding hard against her, clenching her tight to themselves. She opened her heavy eyes to the spinning world and stared up at the face of the person who was carrying her. Ron. She tried to tell him that carrying her should not tire him out so badly, but that he could take her to bed upstairs if he insisted on carrying her around, thank you very much. He must be ignoring her because he didn't respond, his eyes focused on the room around them. Someone had probably set off a firework, or eaten one of the twin's puking pastels, or passed out on the common room carpet again. She turned her aching head to look in that direction, confused when she didn't see the red and gold carpets and armchairs of the common room.
So many black robes and coloured flashes of spells moved slowly through her vision, grotesque faces leering at them, snarling. A flash of a coloured shoe nearby and she was sure she saw Harry, holding his wand in front of him protectively while he threw something at them, yelling something in words she could neither understand or hear. She felt Ron move sharply, and suddenly she was drowning, the weight of the water pushing down on her chest, unable to move her arms or legs and swim to the surface to take a breath.
Suddenly she was pulled from the water and dropped. She took a deep gasping breath of cool air, crying out as the motion caused her body to burn, hot tears dripping down her face.
She could feel something cold and gritty underneath her fingertips. Sand. How did she get in the water in the first place? She hadn't been on a beach holiday in years. The coolness soothed her pain slightly and she lay still, taking shallow breaths. She finally opened her eyes and saw a grey sky, filled with clouds that seemed to be stretching down to her, trying to touch her. She watched, mesmerized. There was a flash of red in the corner of her eye but she ignored it, not wanting to take her eyes of the clouds. They made her feel…warm. The clouds made her feel sleepy and she abided them, closing her eyes and letting herself drift into nothing.
To be continued…
