Chapter 1
Experiencing the darkest breakthrough of a war and losing your loved ones can make you change into someone else. Or perhaps something else.
Something more. Or maybe less.
That's probably the reason why Hermione Granger, the infamous War Heroine and proclaimed Brightest Witch Of Her Age, succumbed into someone or something completely different from her previous self.
It's what as if she now became nothing but an empty shell of her former vestige.
Detached, cold, and emotionless. Like a porcelain soulless doll. But with the newfound inescapable darkness shrouding around her, thrumming through her very veins.
Gone was the previous easy-going, innocent, swotty little girl that's eyes were once filled with glorious wonder towards the world, the very same eyes that were once filled with thirst of conquering the vast knowledge about almost everything.
The once brilliant gem had lost its former shine and dulled to a lifeless, grey stone. The once omnipotent and unattainable force of nature became a useles, discarded trash. She's broken beyond repair, is what everyone concluded. A broken and empty shell at that.
Yet could anyone possibly blame her though? Hermione had lost her childhood innocence since she was twelve years old perhaps, forced to be on a constant vigilance for she knew that anytime, anywhere the danger could be lurking, brewing, ready to be unleashed and attack them head on.
At an early age she was forced to think and act maturely for in reality she could just be playing and enjoying her childhood life to the fullest like any normal children would be. Blimey, she's just a freaking twelve years old for crying out loud!
But alas war can make you do that.
War can make you became like that.
The people around her had already given up the idea of trying to find anything worth of her remaining salvation, though in the end they resorted to sending her into somewhere else, a faraway remote place that they considered to be peaceful enough or so they thought that a, Merlin forbid, 'troubled person' like her could feel the ambiance of normalcy.
Maybe it was miles away from the land that brought her unending nightmares hunting at every brisk of her upheaving wake, causing her to have those countless painful sleepless nights.
Of those families mourning the death of their loved ones who died fighting an unreasonable war.
Or of those familiar faces that choose to sacrifice and die for the sake of that absurd notion of greater good.
Or of those times when she had completely no choice but to hardened her heart and brought countless stains of bloods in her hands in order to survive, to live, and keep on fighting on.
Or of that one but most horrible time when she was forced to endure those unending inhumane tortures in the hands of that monster.
Or of that certain day when she hastily devised a plan of saving her parents yet in turn, still ended up losing them in the most painful way possible. That is, being tortured to death right in front of her. Whilst she, completely helpless, was forced to watched as both her two most beloved person experience a painful die.
Or maybe that particular time when Ron, her unofficial lover, only after being reconciled throw himself in front of her when a wheezing bright green light had been thrown her way in a second she's not paying attention, successfully annihilating his short life. He sacrificed himself to save her. He died protecting her. And she just watched, watched the man she loved in all six years of her life, die in front of her. Completely and utterly helpless.
In her mind those dark times kept on repeating over and over again, as if she herself became eternally trapped in a constant limbo. Even though Hermione knew that they had won the war, she still can't help the stirring hole of emptiness inside her. As if accumulating the victory lose the meaning to her.
Their side finally became the victors. She should be happy, right?
Then why does she felt otherwise? The whole Wizarding World celebrated the day that finally, finally they were finally free from the clutches of that evil madman.
Whilst Hermione, amidst the tidal waves of happiness and relief surging through the vast majority of her kin, only felt the pang of hollowness deep inside her heart keep growing more and more. Feeling like a smoldering metal knife kept stabbing her chest again and again.
It hurts as hell to the point that she began desperately hoping for a quick death, though a part of her still hopes that maybe, maybe someday she will eventually get use to it. And lo and behold get used to it, she did. Only that her whole body, mind and soul totally grew numb to the tumultuous pain.
With the help of her strongest Occlumency she buried those unnecessary thoughts and emotions in the deepest, darkest pit of her conciousness. Completely isolating her subconscious self in this made-up mind escape that she has created herself. Because she knows that only the seclusion of the dark fortress is her only remaining haven right now.
Away from everything, away from everyone, and away from the affairs of the outside world...
As thick grey clouds hovered above Grimmauld Place No. 12, in a particularly dark and dusty room stood a conspicuous human figure wearing black hooded traditional wizarding robes gazing at her gloomy and almost unrecognizable appearance reflected on the mirror.
Pale white skin that obviously hasn't been graced by the sun for Merlin knows how long, thin figure, slightly sunken cheeks and those pair of emotionless bloodshot eyes that were gazing back at her. Even her former lively brunette hair had lost its former lustre, it now became three points darker shade, the former wild curls fortunately tamed as well, the length reaching her hips which she particularly prefer to loosen down.
She's in no way better when she's on the run, Hermione thought.
She wish she could give herself at least a bitter laugh watching but not quite seeing her current pathetic situation.
She wish she could still feel.
Thinking of it the feeling of hollowness inside her intensifies. Hermione put her slightly skinny hand on her left chest where her almost unbeating heart rests. It's faint but still there. She wasn't sure if she's thankul or otherwise for that though.
Suddenly with a 'pop' a small bony creature appeared beside her, holding what she guessed to be her already packed luggage.
"Miss Granger, Kreacher has come to inform Miss that Master tells it's time to go already."
If it's any other day, Hermione will surely reprimand Harry for instructing Kreacher of doing the simple task of packing her things instead of doing it herself because she thought it was kinda violating her privacy or something along the lines with that. Right now she didn't though.
No particular reason, she just really doesn't care with those trivial things anymore.
"Hm." She answered the elf with a small hum before wearing the dark hood on her head, which almost covered almost half of her face by the way. She used a wandless magic to shrank the luggage put it on her pocket and then closed the door to go downstairs wherein Harry and the rest of the Weasleys sans Charlie and Percy were waiting for her to bid their farewells.
While walking downstairs she could already heard the pitiful cracking sobs made by Mrs. Weasley, the suppressed choking sounds of Ginny who's obviously suppressing the urge to cry, Harry and Arthur's subtle attempts to comfort the two whilst also sniffing from time to time, and others trying to distract themselves though their red rimmed eyes already gave them away.
If it's anyone else they would probably thought that someone died in the family and they were all mourning.
When she finally came downstairs shouts of, "Hermione!" "Mione!" could be heard. Ginny pounce on her and hugged her tightly, new hot tears gushing out her eyes.
Hermione remained frozen on her place. Her emotionless face didn't even fluctuate a bit which just made the hearts of those people around clench in pain. A pity really, among all of them Hermione is clearly the one who had taken the blow mostly.
"Mione, a-are you sure about this?" Harry's cracking voice reverberated through the room amidst the other sounds.
Is she really sure about this? Hermione also asked the same question to herself ever since the decision was made.
But even the thought of practicing magic furthermore doesn't bring any joy to her anymore. Hell, seems like everything in the Wizarding World had lost its essence to her. Nothing seems clear anymore. Her goals or even her future ahead. This twisted path that she's going through is surely a bleak one, Hermione concluded.
She remained silent and didn't answer him but the determination in her eyes crushed the last remaining hope in Harry's heart. Maybe this is also for her own good. Harry convinced himself, albeit halfheartedly.
"I understand your decision, Mi. But– but in case you needed something– no, anything just write to us and we'll be there for you, alright?" Clenching his fists, he let out a long deep sigh and closed his eyes. He turned around to hide his tears from everyone. "We love you Mi, remember that. Always." He silently murmur into the air.
Suddenly, Harry felt two arms embracing him from behind. Harry opened his eyes and saw the black hooded figure burying her face in his back. "Me too, Harry. Me too." She whispered silently in her slightly hoarse voice, only enough for him to hear.
He smiled a grateful smile, turned around and hugged her back.
Soon after everyone said their farewells, it was already her time for departure.
Fiercely gripping the familiar atrocious Walnut dragon heartstring wand in her hand Hermione cast them one last hollow glance before Disapparating on the spot.
No one noticed the small conspicuous stone on her other hand that gives a small crimson glow.
A/N: So, hullo there my lovely daffodils! I hope you like my story! By the way, I do so kindly apologize for any wrong use of grammars if there's any. Seeing that English language is just basically my second language I hope y'all understand this poor ol' me.
So any thoughts my lovely daffodils? If there's any then just kindly review!