Part Three: The Dream Bench
A/N: J.K. Rowling owns all the characters. I don't.
Somehow, it turned out to be a bright, sunny day. That's something I wouldn't expect. But enough about the weather. I had gotten up at six, because I couldn't sleep. (As usual). I was out of the house at seven-thirty. No one was outside. I sat down on a bench to rest. Then, of all people, someone came and sat down next to the bench. I just stared.
"I'm sorry, am I crowding you?" he asked.
"No- no- it's just that... you look like someone. That's all," I replied.
"Who?" he asked. "You know... you remind me of someone too, who you could easily be, and if you are, it would completely explain why you're staring at me right now."
"Well, it is possible that you could be him. I guess there's really no reason why you shouldn't be him. I just haven't seen anyone I know for 13 years."
"Hello, Hermione!" he exclaimed happily. "It's wonderful to see you."
I smiled. "You too, Neville."
We began to talk, and I was so happy, I felt almost as happy as when Ron had.... well, no need to discuss that. "How's Ginny?"
"Oh, she's fine. Do you not live far from here? Ginny and I live just a block away," he babbled.
"Really?! That's so wonderful! I live just two blocks that way! We live a block apart, Neville!"
I was truly happy. Not only one person to talk to, but two! It was the end of loneliness.
"You want to know who else lives around here? He lives just two houses away from us. In fact, he and Ginny are having tea right now!" Neville continued.
"At eight in the morning???" I asked disbelievingly. "Who would do a crazy thing like that?"
"I believe you just answered your own question by using the word crazy, Hermione."
This was too much. I jumped up and hugged Neville so hard he could barely breathe. "Really?" I asked.
"Really," he said. "Would you care to see him?"
"Are you crazy??? Of course!" I screamed, tears streaming down my face. "This has to be a dream! It can't be real! You, Ginny, and Harry all living right by me?"
"Oh, yes. It is a dream." Neville laughed.
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When I awoke, I wanted to kill something. I screamed, and got out of bed. I quickly got dressed, and left the house without eating breakfast. I should have known that the second happiest moment of my life would be a dream. When I reached the park bench, I sat down and waited. I doubted Neville would come, and I was right. But someone even more unexpected did.
"Hello, Miss Granger."
"H- hello, sir. How are you?"
"I'm fine, thank you, dear."
If you had told me that Snape would call me "dear" when I was thirty years old a 14 years earlier, I would have laughed. But, I did give him his dream job. It was still, however, weird.
"Well, I must be going. Goodbye," and he left.
I just sat there in shock. I couldn't believe it. Neither, apparently could the next man who sat down on the bench.
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"Hermione! Are you crazy?" he asked.
"Harry, I'm telling you. It's true. He called me 'dear.'" I insisted.
"Whatever."
"So... you'd better go."
"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked.
"I'm fine," I lied.
"Hermione, just tell me if something's wrong."
"I'm fine."
"Okay. My plane's leaving. I'd better go," he said.
"Oh, and Harry!" I said.
"You did great in your Quidditch match. I can't wait until you have to come here for another one. Bye!"
He left. I was so sad. I had never felt lonelier. Five minutes after a Quidditch match. That was all.
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A/N: You like? I do. Here's the rest. Sorry for cutting in.
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Harry had come... and gone. I wished I was dead. I'm not just saying that. Well, I was an auror, of course. So, I decided to visit the ministry to see if there was a job to be done. Little did I know how big that job was. Once I got there, I was greeted by a worried Cornelius Fudge.
"Hermione!" he hissed. "We have a big problem. We think it may be as big as a second Voldemort."
I wished I was back on the "Dream Bench" right after he finished saying that.
"I know you weren't the ideal person to ask to do this, but it's an emergency! You understand?" he hurried on.
"I understand. That doesn't make me willing to take care of him," I replied in an unjustly harsh hiss.
The minister of magic looked flustered. "Well, I'm sorry, I- THIS IS TOO MUCH! I QUIT!"
There was a hushed silence. I calmly walked over to the telephone. "Yes. Can I speak to Ginny Longbottom, please?"
There was a pause. "She's not available to- Is this Hermione?"
"Yes. Why, Neville?"
"Hermione- I'm so sorry. She's... dead."
I just stood there in horror. "Neville, are you serious?"
"Yes."
"Thank you. Goodbye." I hung up the phone. "Mr. Fudge, Ginny Longbottom is not available to become the minister of magic, therefore, I ask that you do not quit."
"All right, Hermione. Just go and take care of this man. He is needed here dead or alive."
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After promising to rid the world of the man that was troubling it, I hurried home.
"I can't believe it," I whispered to Crookshanks' daughter. "How could he? A second Voldemort is hard enough to believe, but Colin Creevey? Worshiper of the most famous good wizard in the world?"
And I had to kill him. Kill him. I had to. So I would. Because I believed in revenge. Voldemort killed Ron, I killed Voldemort. Colin killed Ginny, now I had to continue the pattern. I wish I had never left the "Dream Bench."
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A/N: Did I surprise you? Next part: Hermione falls in love, wins an award, and is visited by a terrible nightmare. I think it's gonna be the best part yet!
A/N: J.K. Rowling owns all the characters. I don't.
Somehow, it turned out to be a bright, sunny day. That's something I wouldn't expect. But enough about the weather. I had gotten up at six, because I couldn't sleep. (As usual). I was out of the house at seven-thirty. No one was outside. I sat down on a bench to rest. Then, of all people, someone came and sat down next to the bench. I just stared.
"I'm sorry, am I crowding you?" he asked.
"No- no- it's just that... you look like someone. That's all," I replied.
"Who?" he asked. "You know... you remind me of someone too, who you could easily be, and if you are, it would completely explain why you're staring at me right now."
"Well, it is possible that you could be him. I guess there's really no reason why you shouldn't be him. I just haven't seen anyone I know for 13 years."
"Hello, Hermione!" he exclaimed happily. "It's wonderful to see you."
I smiled. "You too, Neville."
We began to talk, and I was so happy, I felt almost as happy as when Ron had.... well, no need to discuss that. "How's Ginny?"
"Oh, she's fine. Do you not live far from here? Ginny and I live just a block away," he babbled.
"Really?! That's so wonderful! I live just two blocks that way! We live a block apart, Neville!"
I was truly happy. Not only one person to talk to, but two! It was the end of loneliness.
"You want to know who else lives around here? He lives just two houses away from us. In fact, he and Ginny are having tea right now!" Neville continued.
"At eight in the morning???" I asked disbelievingly. "Who would do a crazy thing like that?"
"I believe you just answered your own question by using the word crazy, Hermione."
This was too much. I jumped up and hugged Neville so hard he could barely breathe. "Really?" I asked.
"Really," he said. "Would you care to see him?"
"Are you crazy??? Of course!" I screamed, tears streaming down my face. "This has to be a dream! It can't be real! You, Ginny, and Harry all living right by me?"
"Oh, yes. It is a dream." Neville laughed.
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When I awoke, I wanted to kill something. I screamed, and got out of bed. I quickly got dressed, and left the house without eating breakfast. I should have known that the second happiest moment of my life would be a dream. When I reached the park bench, I sat down and waited. I doubted Neville would come, and I was right. But someone even more unexpected did.
"Hello, Miss Granger."
"H- hello, sir. How are you?"
"I'm fine, thank you, dear."
If you had told me that Snape would call me "dear" when I was thirty years old a 14 years earlier, I would have laughed. But, I did give him his dream job. It was still, however, weird.
"Well, I must be going. Goodbye," and he left.
I just sat there in shock. I couldn't believe it. Neither, apparently could the next man who sat down on the bench.
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"Hermione! Are you crazy?" he asked.
"Harry, I'm telling you. It's true. He called me 'dear.'" I insisted.
"Whatever."
"So... you'd better go."
"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked.
"I'm fine," I lied.
"Hermione, just tell me if something's wrong."
"I'm fine."
"Okay. My plane's leaving. I'd better go," he said.
"Oh, and Harry!" I said.
"You did great in your Quidditch match. I can't wait until you have to come here for another one. Bye!"
He left. I was so sad. I had never felt lonelier. Five minutes after a Quidditch match. That was all.
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A/N: You like? I do. Here's the rest. Sorry for cutting in.
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Harry had come... and gone. I wished I was dead. I'm not just saying that. Well, I was an auror, of course. So, I decided to visit the ministry to see if there was a job to be done. Little did I know how big that job was. Once I got there, I was greeted by a worried Cornelius Fudge.
"Hermione!" he hissed. "We have a big problem. We think it may be as big as a second Voldemort."
I wished I was back on the "Dream Bench" right after he finished saying that.
"I know you weren't the ideal person to ask to do this, but it's an emergency! You understand?" he hurried on.
"I understand. That doesn't make me willing to take care of him," I replied in an unjustly harsh hiss.
The minister of magic looked flustered. "Well, I'm sorry, I- THIS IS TOO MUCH! I QUIT!"
There was a hushed silence. I calmly walked over to the telephone. "Yes. Can I speak to Ginny Longbottom, please?"
There was a pause. "She's not available to- Is this Hermione?"
"Yes. Why, Neville?"
"Hermione- I'm so sorry. She's... dead."
I just stood there in horror. "Neville, are you serious?"
"Yes."
"Thank you. Goodbye." I hung up the phone. "Mr. Fudge, Ginny Longbottom is not available to become the minister of magic, therefore, I ask that you do not quit."
"All right, Hermione. Just go and take care of this man. He is needed here dead or alive."
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After promising to rid the world of the man that was troubling it, I hurried home.
"I can't believe it," I whispered to Crookshanks' daughter. "How could he? A second Voldemort is hard enough to believe, but Colin Creevey? Worshiper of the most famous good wizard in the world?"
And I had to kill him. Kill him. I had to. So I would. Because I believed in revenge. Voldemort killed Ron, I killed Voldemort. Colin killed Ginny, now I had to continue the pattern. I wish I had never left the "Dream Bench."
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A/N: Did I surprise you? Next part: Hermione falls in love, wins an award, and is visited by a terrible nightmare. I think it's gonna be the best part yet!