Just Breathe
Take deep breaths. Deep breaths. You can do this.
Hermione wasn't sure if the last part was true, but she thought it repeatedly anyway, trying to make it seem true, at least. Her reflection in the mirror was unsure, hesitant, and most of all, afraid.
Her hand was so tense, her knuckles almost white as she clung on to her wand. She didn't want to do this. She desperately wanted to throw her wand on the ground and kick it under her desk, because as long as she had it, the task that lay in front of her was possible. Was required morally.
It was right down stairs, waiting.
Hermione glanced up at her hair and somehow managed a sigh, despite how tense her throat felt. It was tangled, bushy, messy – if only she had a few extra minutes, she could ask her mother to brush through it, like she used to do when she was younger. But she didn't have a few extra minutes. If she waited, she'd have to break down this wall she had built around herself and then rebuild it. She was just too tired to do that.
There was now, and then there was after that, but nothing before.
She had to do it now, had to go down there and get it over with. It was a blow that had to be dealt before she started to heal.
Hermione took a last deep breath, took a last glance at her mirror (as usual, her reflection was less than satisfactory), and grabbed her bag from her bed for the last time. She wondered if she ever would see her bedroom again, with its bookshelf overflowing with books and its closet underflowing with clothes.
She wondered if she would ever see her parents again.
No, she told herself harshly. You mustn't think like that. You will see them again. Just breathe, Hermione. Just breathe.
There would be no good-byes. Hermione knew that was the only way to go as she hurried down the stairs. No last words, no looks in their eyes to keep her up at night. Nothing was going to hurt as bad as that final touch.
In and out, like the ocean. In, out, out, in. Just breathe, it's all going to be all right.
She choked a little on her breath, choked on tears unshed, as she reached the bottom step. In the living room, her parents' conversation died down and started back up again at twice the speed.
Breathe, she reminded herself. But not too loudly.
Her parents were pretending to talk about teeth. They knew she was there. Did they know what she was about to do? Could they feel it in the air, that bittersweet feeling of goodbye?
Hermione raised her wand, and pointed it at her parents. And breathed.
"Obliviate."
Time changes and flows, though sometimes irregularly. There had been moments which she had yearned for to end. And then there were those that she wished she could live in, curled up safely in the fabric of time. Like waltzing at a party that wasn't hers. That was over before it began, but the memory of it stuck.
And now she was standing in a coffee shop full of rubble, staring at three motionless bodies. Bodies that were people
"What are we going to do with them?" said Ron, his voice bouncing unevenly against the broken fixtures of the café. "Kill them? They'd kill us. They had a good go just now."
Hermione couldn't help it, it was involuntary. She shuddered, and so did the air around her. Kill them? Maybe it was just because they were lying on the ground at the mercy of three teenagers, but they seemed more human. She vaguely wondered if either of them had any children before quickly dispelling the thought. Sympathy for the enemy was not approved of, was not was it an extravagance she could indulge in. Not now, in this crumpled room with the blinds pulled down and the lights turned off. Not now.
"We just need to wipe their memories," said Harry, shaking his head. "It's better like that, it'll throw them off the scent. If we killed them it'd be obvious we were here." She knew he was also thinking of the curse needed to kill people. The one that had killed his parents.
"You're the boss," said Ron. He sounded relieved, though he was trying not to show it.
You don't need to pretend you're up to this Ron, because none of us are. She thought the words, but didn't say them. It seemed like that was the case too often.
"Hermione," he whispered, turning to her, and there was something more in his voice as he touched her face, his finger gently touching a cut she hadn't known she had received before now. And once again, a shiver went down her spine. This time, it had less to do with dread and everything to do with him, the current running through his body and now hers, the pulse of him just inches away. Another moment came, and she yearned for it to linger.
"You're the best at spells," he continued. The moment came, and she was back in the dark. As he met her eyes, she realized what she was supposed to do. What was expected from her. Something rose in her throat, but she nodded thickly anyway, and stepped in front of Ron, facing the man on the floor.
It was a last second thought, too late for anything other than a slight nod in its general direction, but she wasn't sure if this was right. Ethically. How could she take someone's wishes and hopes, regrets and memories, and lay them to waste? No matter the mistakes he had made or the person Dolohov had become, could she really kill the dreams he must have dreamed at some point?
Just breathe. It seemed like her mantra now. And it was completely pathetic that she had to remind herself to breathe. But she did it anyway. Not too loud now. Just breathe. It'll be all right.
She had no idea if that was a lie or not, but she supposed she would find out eventually.
"Obliviate," she whispered, and his eyes went blank.
Kay, so I'm not really sure what to say about this... it literally just kind of came to me. I was just watching Deathly Hallows Part 1, and it was at this part of the movie, and I could so easily see this story in Hermione's face. It's kind of pointless, but I thought I'd post it anyway.
So, yeah, basically review, tell me what you thought, and all that jazz. Brownie points to who ever can name one of the two lines from songs I used in this one-shot HINT: one of the songs was on Glee (amazing show)!
I'll leave you to your thoughts now... review, review, review!
~Cierra, who needs to learn a whole two acts worth of lines by tomorrow
