Disclaimer: We all know I don't own this, on with the story eh?
A/N: I really loved writing this. This isn't the story yet. This is like a prologue that sets the stage for my plot.
Nowhere to Turn
Overshadowing, ominous, foreboding, gray towers of lightning injected clouds, can dampen even the brightest spirits. Sometimes they fit the mood. Ironically enough, when Hermione Granger, a 16-year-old witch, opened her eyes on this dismal Wednesday she had an awful feeling settling in her stomach.
Professor Trelawny had said that she had very little aura, but maybe Hermione just had no interest in Divination. It couldn't even be attributed to magic; it being the way she knew something was wrong even before she knew that she knew. Acting on intuition, she slipped out of her pajamas and into her black Hogwarts robes, emblazoned with the Gryffindor Lion.
She heaved the heavy dormitory door open and trudged down the stairs, scared to see what might be waiting for her. Cringing she rounded the last swirl of the spiral staircase and found... nothing. An empty common room, looking mostly the same as it had last night. On her usual study table were her books as she had left them. She scuffled over thinking that she might wait for Harry and Ron and do a bit of studying. Hermione plopped into the soft cushy armchair and flipped open her charms book, and there lay a bit of folded parchment. She carefully unfolded it. There was Ron's chicken- scratch scrawl.
Hermione,
Captain Harry called an early morning Quidditch practice so we can beat Slytherin's slimy asses in the Quidditch Cup. We left at 5:00 this morning, don't expect us back until 8:00 am. Wait for us and we'll have breakfast with you. You probably have studying to do anyways.
Love from Ron
Well that fit in neatly with Hermione's plans, seeing as it was 7 o'clock then she could study for an hour then meet the boys for breakfast. Hermione was not a bit surprised that Ron had signed the note "love" because they had been a couple since the start of term, and now the Christmas tree stood sparkling in the corner. Hermione pictured for a moment her two best friends holding the Quidditch Cup high above their heads. Harry had been appointed captain this year and Ron thought that was great because Harry had gotten him on the team as a Chaser to replace Angelina who had graduated. Ron was really wonderful in Hermione's eyes, but her opinions were biased due to her love for Ron.
Hermione brushed these images away when she discovered that she only had 20 minutes to practice conjuring a hat if she wanted to have time to fix her hair before Ron and Harry got back. She made a hat with a gilded brim to wear to the Christmas feast then went upstairs to get ready.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Hermione was rushing down the stairs, she was 10 minutes late for meeting Ron and Harry. But when she got to the entrance hall, they weren't there. She leaned next to the portrait of Myra the Magnificent where they usually met. Minutes crept by. She kept checking the time. After 30 minutes had passed she went into the Great Hall swiped a stack of toast and headed out to the Quidditch field thinking that they had lost track of time.
She stepped briskly through the cold cloudy morning. How could they play Quidditch in this? She thought to herself. She got another one of those feelings. The fleeting cold tremor. Her heart bounced. She was alone. Of course who else could she expect to be there? But nonetheless she felt watched. Maybe Harry had on his invisibility cloak and was waiting for her, maybe.
"Well maybe if I go to the field he'll follow me." Hermione spoke these words half to herself, and half to the imagined Harry phantom.
Hermione went around a small grove of trees that provided a nice refuge on many a sunny summer day, now the trees stood leafless, waving their naked brown claw like branches in protest to the wind that whirled relentlessly. As she came into sight of the pitch she scanned the sky for broomsticks and came up empty. She went past the bleachers to see the actual ground where they may be standing listening to Harry talk strategy.
With sickening dreamlike motion the stack of toast thudded to the ground. Hermione screamed. Not a scream of fear. No. The moan of defeat and agony that comes from the depths of the soul and forces and pushes upward. Pain that is not even understandable or conceivable ravages the soul, mind, and heart with pulsing heat and frost at once. The hurricane of emotions and thoughts swirl only half thought or felt. They are not the products of logic or process. They only come from one thing. Death. Cold death that touches every aspect of your senses. When you can smell blood, feel the slain souls whirl around you in an eerie dance and you see the maimed bodies lying lifeless, only then, only then.
Hermione crumpled into a heap.
Ron still clutched his Firebolt. Harry's green eyes were glassy and open to heaven.
A/N this is really an introduction to the events of the story to come. Please read and review! Sorry this is so morbid. It gets happier soon. Romance too. I can't say who, it'll spoil it.
A/N: I really loved writing this. This isn't the story yet. This is like a prologue that sets the stage for my plot.
Nowhere to Turn
Overshadowing, ominous, foreboding, gray towers of lightning injected clouds, can dampen even the brightest spirits. Sometimes they fit the mood. Ironically enough, when Hermione Granger, a 16-year-old witch, opened her eyes on this dismal Wednesday she had an awful feeling settling in her stomach.
Professor Trelawny had said that she had very little aura, but maybe Hermione just had no interest in Divination. It couldn't even be attributed to magic; it being the way she knew something was wrong even before she knew that she knew. Acting on intuition, she slipped out of her pajamas and into her black Hogwarts robes, emblazoned with the Gryffindor Lion.
She heaved the heavy dormitory door open and trudged down the stairs, scared to see what might be waiting for her. Cringing she rounded the last swirl of the spiral staircase and found... nothing. An empty common room, looking mostly the same as it had last night. On her usual study table were her books as she had left them. She scuffled over thinking that she might wait for Harry and Ron and do a bit of studying. Hermione plopped into the soft cushy armchair and flipped open her charms book, and there lay a bit of folded parchment. She carefully unfolded it. There was Ron's chicken- scratch scrawl.
Hermione,
Captain Harry called an early morning Quidditch practice so we can beat Slytherin's slimy asses in the Quidditch Cup. We left at 5:00 this morning, don't expect us back until 8:00 am. Wait for us and we'll have breakfast with you. You probably have studying to do anyways.
Love from Ron
Well that fit in neatly with Hermione's plans, seeing as it was 7 o'clock then she could study for an hour then meet the boys for breakfast. Hermione was not a bit surprised that Ron had signed the note "love" because they had been a couple since the start of term, and now the Christmas tree stood sparkling in the corner. Hermione pictured for a moment her two best friends holding the Quidditch Cup high above their heads. Harry had been appointed captain this year and Ron thought that was great because Harry had gotten him on the team as a Chaser to replace Angelina who had graduated. Ron was really wonderful in Hermione's eyes, but her opinions were biased due to her love for Ron.
Hermione brushed these images away when she discovered that she only had 20 minutes to practice conjuring a hat if she wanted to have time to fix her hair before Ron and Harry got back. She made a hat with a gilded brim to wear to the Christmas feast then went upstairs to get ready.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Hermione was rushing down the stairs, she was 10 minutes late for meeting Ron and Harry. But when she got to the entrance hall, they weren't there. She leaned next to the portrait of Myra the Magnificent where they usually met. Minutes crept by. She kept checking the time. After 30 minutes had passed she went into the Great Hall swiped a stack of toast and headed out to the Quidditch field thinking that they had lost track of time.
She stepped briskly through the cold cloudy morning. How could they play Quidditch in this? She thought to herself. She got another one of those feelings. The fleeting cold tremor. Her heart bounced. She was alone. Of course who else could she expect to be there? But nonetheless she felt watched. Maybe Harry had on his invisibility cloak and was waiting for her, maybe.
"Well maybe if I go to the field he'll follow me." Hermione spoke these words half to herself, and half to the imagined Harry phantom.
Hermione went around a small grove of trees that provided a nice refuge on many a sunny summer day, now the trees stood leafless, waving their naked brown claw like branches in protest to the wind that whirled relentlessly. As she came into sight of the pitch she scanned the sky for broomsticks and came up empty. She went past the bleachers to see the actual ground where they may be standing listening to Harry talk strategy.
With sickening dreamlike motion the stack of toast thudded to the ground. Hermione screamed. Not a scream of fear. No. The moan of defeat and agony that comes from the depths of the soul and forces and pushes upward. Pain that is not even understandable or conceivable ravages the soul, mind, and heart with pulsing heat and frost at once. The hurricane of emotions and thoughts swirl only half thought or felt. They are not the products of logic or process. They only come from one thing. Death. Cold death that touches every aspect of your senses. When you can smell blood, feel the slain souls whirl around you in an eerie dance and you see the maimed bodies lying lifeless, only then, only then.
Hermione crumpled into a heap.
Ron still clutched his Firebolt. Harry's green eyes were glassy and open to heaven.
A/N this is really an introduction to the events of the story to come. Please read and review! Sorry this is so morbid. It gets happier soon. Romance too. I can't say who, it'll spoil it.