The young witch stood, her knees creaking in the chilly December wind. Her breath escaped in clouds as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ears. She drew her wand silently, recasting the warming charm that had worn off moments before. She sadly pointed the tip of her wand at the stone, the ice clinging to the cool material melting away, leaving the letters standing out once again.
Hermione Granger turned to leave, her cloak flowing over the snow below her, her brown eyes sweeping the white landscape. It was quiet here, it always had been. She came here when everything got to be to much and she found herself smothered. She took time away, to think what harry would do... How she wished she could just ask him. But she'd never have that chance again.
She raised her sleeve to wipe a lone tear off her cheek, as a loud snap cracked shattered the quiet of the seconds before.
She dove behind the tombstone, turning her body to the side to lessen her body mass, while she waited for the spells to rain down upon her. When nothing hit, she chanced a peak over the tomb, her wand quickly aiming into the empty grounds of Hogwarts. Stepping out from behind her shelter, she kept her wand in hand, her eyes and ears listening for the slightest movement or sound. She watched the air, looking for the tell-tale shimmer or snow piling in the middle of the air.
Seconds stretched into minutes before the brunette lowered her wand, her eyes drawn back to the tombstone behind her as if begging her not to leave, the ruins of Hogwarts visible in the distance. Her heart sank as she turned, and without another glance, she finished her turn and vanished from the grave.
He smirked as his heart beat returned to a normal rate. He had been following the girl for a while now, the time's where he wasn't following her becoming less and less. This time was evidently different, for she had almost discovered him. He had, once again, over estimated Hermione Granger.
He was always silent, never moving more than needed, even though with the magic the man employed he needn't have worried. The particular spell he was using at the moment had him in a different phase of matter, where he could see all but none could see him, feel him, or hear him. Unfortunately it also blocked the use of all magic, as the magic would simply pass through those of the normal state of matter, and he wasn't sure what the influence of magic would do to this state.
As she sat at the late Harry Potter's grave, he had watched the tears pour onto her cheeks, but he hardened his heart to remain passive to her sadness. He waited patiently, his eye's roaming the grounds before her, his eyes even scanning the frozen lake behind the tomb. Finally, after what he assumed was about two hours, judging by the movement of the sun, and the recasting of her warming charms, she stood.
The young woman had hardly taken two steps before a loud crack echoed through the air. The man's eye's widened as he looked down to see if he had stepped upon a stick, only to see a rabbit bolting into it's nearby burrow. His eye's snapped forward, searching for the woman, which previously had been located in front of him, now, however she was several feet away, almost invisible against the tomb stone.
He saw her breathing slow, as the seconds ticked by, until she slowly stood from behind the grave, her wand still aiming forward, her eye's quickly sweeping the space before her. Her wand followed the wand perfectly, waiting to launch a spell the moment her eye's had found a target. She finally lowered her wand, her eye's almost seeming to stare into his, but he quickly shook his head, knowing it was impossible for her to know he was there. He followed her gaze to the tomb, once again, before with a hesitant twist, she vanished.
He didn't rush since he already knew where she was going, probably better than she did. Instead, he turned and strolled to the grave site.
After coming to a stop in a small motel that she had once stopped at on a vacation with her family, she quickly made her way into the motel, quickly making her way toward the room she had rented early that morning. Entering slowly, her mind abuzz, she threw herself down upon the bed. She stared at the ceiling before reluctantly lifting herself to take a shower, and warm up from the cold grip of winter air.
She gathered her clothes in her arms as she stepped into the bathroom, setting the clothes neatly out on the counter. She quickly fixed her water to a steaming temperature before she stripped, stepping quickly into the shower. She let the hot water pound upon her tired skin, washing her worries and tears away. She grabbed her washcloth and dripped the flowery soap the motel had provided onto her washcloth before lathering her body. She washed quickly, sleep edging into her, making her lean against the wall for slight support. She quickly washed her hair, the scent filling her nose making her smile.
She stepped out of the tub, quickly waving her wand and drying her hair, and body. She dressed herself in a simple pair of bright blue pajama pants and a matching blue shirt. She stepped into the bedroom of the motel, laying again on the bed. The witch held her wand in her hand, turning the vine wood wand over in her fingers, tracing the minute details with her fingernails, her eyes losing focus as she thought.
Voldemort had taken over the wizarding world in a little under six months without Harry Potter standing in his way. The ministry fell two months later, on New Year's Day. In the early hours of the morning, hundreds of death eaters stormed the ministry, with Lord Voldemort leading the army of dark wizards. The ministry never stood a chance, and before mid-day, the ministry had fallen.
Hogwarts was taken three months later in a devastating battle. Voldemort's forces pushed the defenders of Hogwarts into the great hall, where Dumbledore had single-handidly stopped the advance, until all of the remaining students and teachers could retreat. He hadn't been seen since and most of the Order assumed he was dead, but Hermione believed he was still alive.
Hogwarts remained standing for another year, however, and many people saw it as a beacon of hope, that the old ways still stood. When Voldemort failed to squash the people's hope, in a fit of anger, he leveled Hogwarts.
Her mind raced as she wondered when Voldemort would eliminate the Order, leaving the world in even more danger than it already was. Without Harry, they stood no chance. Without Harry, she stood no chance.
Her eyes closed, begging her mind to stop before it descended into forbidden territory once again. The brunette's body relaxed, her arms laying limp as she sank into slumber.
She was standing in the Great Hall, the flickering of a thousand candles casting light across the large chamber. Her eyes were locked forward, a memory that shattered her life replaying before her eyes. For the thousandth time the orb froze in front of the raven haired teen, his eyes betraying his confusion. Her body ached to run to him, to be by his side, but her legs wouldn't respond.
She watched in terror as Harry turned to Dumbledore, almost as if to ask what he should do, before she noticed a familiar mass of brown hair before her. In a flash, Hermione realized she was standing behind herself, as if viewing the memory from an outside perspective. Her eye's widened in surprise, her mouth falling slightly open. Suddenly, she felt the dream ripple, all the people in the hall remaining oblivious, as the air rippled, the taste of magic heavy in the air.
Her brow furrowed as her mind raced, a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach.
She looked around, studying the scene before her, looking for any thing different than moments before the dream rippled. Her eye's widened in horrible disbelief, her hand drawn to cover her open mouth. Tears began leaking from her eye's, silently running down her cheek before dropping to the floor.
The scene became quiet, as if everyone had been struck mute. The second's passed by in silence as she looked at the figure who had appeared beside her.
"Hello Hermione."
His voice was slightly older, deeper and slightly deeper, yet filled with a natural gentleness. He didn't look at her, he simply stared at the orb that had been responsible for his death. His emerald eye's bore into the orb, as if they could correct time from here. He finally turned to the distraught witch before him, his eye's staring into her's unblinkingly. His Jet black hair fell in disarray, a single lock falling down the front of his face, stopping just above his eyes. He had a 5 o' clock shadow, the bristled look making him look much older.
"Har-r-rry? You can't be here!" she screamed hysterically, her voice stuttering slightly. "I saw you die!" she yelled, gesturing to the room in front of her wildly.
"Hermione," he said slowly, as if feeling the name roll off his tongue for the first time, his eye's studying her face, as if memorizing it. He spoke again, his voice but a whisper.
"We both know this is a dream... As you've said. You watched me die." he said, a slight point coming into his voice as if making sure she understood.
She closed her eye's willing the pain in her heart to stop, as she sobbingly asked him, "Why did you have to die, Harry?"
She didn't hear him move, but she felt his hand gently embraced her cheek, wiping a tear from her face. She opened her eye's, the shocking green of his emerald eye's boring into her's as if trying to tell herself something.
However, he merely sighed before answering. "I can't answer that. But I promised you, I'd always come back to help you. Now it's your turn to make me a promise."
She simply looked at him, as if opening her mouth would shatter her composure completely, reducing her to a gibbering mess.
His voice escaped in a hurry, as he gently held her right hand, the feel of his rough hands caressing her smooth palm. "Wake up," he whispered, his voice full of agony. She distantly felt a pain in the hand he was holding, as if his touch was burning her.
Screaming awake, she frantically looks down, discovering a small fire burning her hand, the entire bedroom engulfed in flames. She quickly smother's the flames, a slight hiss of pain escaping her mouth, as her hand spasms in agony. She scrambles to grab her possessions, her hand snatching her wand, almost screaming as the wood comes into contact with her badly burnt hand. She clumsily swaps the wand into her left hand, trying in vain to Apparate out of the motel, only to feel the impassable thickness of an Anti-Apparition ward surrounding the motel, and it's parking lot.
Hermione clumsily sweep's her wand, producing a weak agumenti charm, putting out the fires in her room after several tries. She slowly makes her way to the window, peering through a gap in the curtains. Her heart sinks as she counts the upward of twelve Death Eater's pacing around outside.
A voice sliced through the crackling of flames and the roar of far off smoke detectors, making her scream as she drops the curtain.
"Come out, Mudblood. We know you're inside, and as you hopefully have discovered by now, you're severely outnumbered. Just give up and come out so we can take you to our Master. But if you don't.. well you'll be one burnt Mudblood."
Her blood boiled as the voice of Lucius Malfoy echoed throughout the room. Hermione's
life had been turned upside down by the man after Harry died.
She silently came to the conclusion that she had two choices. The pain in her arm made it hard to focus to do spell's correctly, and even when used in the opposite arm, they proved problematic.
She could either stay in the hotel, or turn herself in to the Death Eaters. Both options were sudden death. The Brunette knew she would never turn throw in the towel, so she gathered her wit's looking for anything she could use in a pinch.
She gathered her resolve and glanced once again into the parking lot. A few of the Death Eater's were spotted here and there, but the majority of the wizards seemed to be congregating in the southern corner of the hotel, near a large white tank. Squinting slightly, the witch smiled as she realized that the Muggle-ly challenged wizards had gathered right next to a large propane tank. She silently slipped into the hallway of the motel, the fire's leaping through the hall making her brow sweat.
Making her way through the burning hall's, she laughed slightly at her Potter plan. This is the exact type of plan Harry would develop, and quite possibly pull off.
She quickly made her way through the motel, pausing only when a flame banishing charm was needed. She came to what she guessed was the farthest room to the north in sight of the tank. She silently opened the door, making her way to the window. She peel's the thin covering back, wand raised, ready to aim at the propane tank, only for the young witch to freeze in surprise.
Instead of a group of Crazed Death Eaters ready to kill her, she was met with the sight of bodies, haphazardly piled in the center of the parking lot. The wizards sported varying spell damage, some looked as if they were merely sleeping, while others sported dismembered arm's and leg's, and in the case of Lucius Malfoy, a decapitated head. Despite the horror of the scene, she felt a slight anger that she would not be able to kill that scum herself.
She distantly heard the sound of siren's as the building behind her blazed in unnatural fire. She gazed at the carnage, wondering briefly who would have done all of this, before she attempted to Apparate once again. This time, to her thankfulness she immediately felt the air twisting around her as she popped into nothingness.
A/n: Same story line, Brand new paint job :) Tell me what you think please, and make sure you read the new details in this and the previous chapter. Review's help me write faster so Please R&R.
I'm sorry for the backtracking but I just got over the flu, and I'm not working diligently on updating my chapter's so as soon as their done I will upload them, and I already have a rough draft for my next 2 chapters planned :)