Rest In Pieces
Chapter One
She had buried her past, left it all behind. That was years ago. She wasn't using her real name anymore, nor her talent. She left Hermione Granger behind and was now Cynthia Gordon, living like any other muggle in America. The Boy Who Lived was dead, Her only other friend had blamed her, she had no choice but to leave. She moved to California, and started over. She had new friends now, and was happy, if not happier. But if that were true, why did she still cry when she thought about Ron? About Harry? That's how she spent her days, convincing herself she wasn't sad, it wasn't her fault Harry had died.
"Cynthia." She looked up at the sound of her name. Her friend, Jessica stood over her. "You okay? I've been saying your name for the past two minutes and all you did was stare into space with that same ol' I'm A Sad Girl look on your face," she said. Hermione couldn't help but smile.
"Listen, I've got prep next period, so I'm gonna go get some lunch for me and some others, want anything?" Jessica asked.
"Um, I think I want Mexican food," Hermione sighed, leaning back in her chair.
"You really don't have Mexican food that much in England, do you?" Jessica joked. Hermione handed her ten dollars, and Jessica left. It was her prep period, and she normally spent it the same way, remembering the way things were. But the bell would be ringing soon and she had a class to get ready for.
"Now, can anyone tell me why Othello killed himself in the end?" Hermione asked her sophomore students. No one answered. "Come, you guys said you read the book," She waited, "Okay, Kaylyn. Why did Othello kill himself?"
The young blonde girl thought for a moment. " He blamed himself for the death of Desdemona, and he couldn't handle the guilt. After she was dead, death, he figured, was the only way out." Hermione stared down at her desk. She knew that feeling all too well. The bell sounded loudly, and the students filed out for lunch, all but Kaylyn.
"Miss Gordon?"
"Yes, Kaylyn?" she asked, looking up and trying to smile.
"I wanted to give my progress report, you still need to fill it out," Kaylyn said. Hermione nodded and went to get her grade book.
Hermione found Jessica in her classroom eating along side her friend Josh, also a teacher. "Hey Cynthia, your food is over there on my desk," Jessica said with a mouth full of carne asada.
"Very lady like, Jess," Hermione laughed, she began imitating her friend, who responded by throwing a napkin at her. The door opened and a few students came in.
"Hey Miss Pickering," They greeted and took a seat across the room from them.
"Oh, Mr. Morton, I needed to talk to you about that paper," said one girl. Josh went with her outside.
"So, what's wrong?" Jessica asked quietly so the other students couldn't hear. Hermione shrugged. "Come on Cynthia, I can tell when you're not in a good mood. Do you miss your friends in England or something?"
"You could say that," Hermione responded, avoiding eye contact with Jessica. They spent the rest of lunch in silence, Josh never came back.
Hermione pushed open her apartment door and threw her stuff on the couch. She flipped on the lights and went into the kitchen. A frozen dinner sounded really good, she didn't feel like cooking. She decided she was going to eat in her room, so she turned all the lights out and locked the door.
She lay down in her queen size bed, not touching her food. A large trunk sat at the end of her bed. She was half tempted to go and open it, but she knew she couldn't. Too many memories were held in there. She fell asleep, leaving her dinner to get cold next to her on the nightstand. She began to dream almost instantly. It was the same dream as every other night.
Harry ran ahead of her, he wanted to check everything out before letting her follow him in. It was clear, that's what he told her. They ran into the small house, Voldemort's lair. They found nothing, but a door on the opposite wall, Harry took her hand and led her over to it. They heard noise coming from behind the door. Someone was coming. Harry pushed her aside, behind an old ratty couch, but didn't have time to hide himself. The door was pushed open and Pettigrew, flanked by another deatheater came out.
"What have we here?" asked the deatheater in a cruel voice.
"Harry Potter," gasped Pettigrew. A smile spread across his ugly face. He reached for Harry, but he was too slow. Harry had his wand in hand.
"Where's Voldemort?" He demanded, but Pettigrew laughed. She saw someone walk up behind Harry. She cried out to warn him.
"Harry! Behind you!" it was then she was roughly grabbed from behind and lifted out from the couch. The man who grabbed her threw her next to Harry. He was kicked down onto his knees by the third deatheater. His wand flew from his hand and landed across the room.
"Go get The Master," Pettigrew ordered. Obediently, they went. Pettigrew now hand his own wand, pointed menacingly at them. She cringed when he pointed it directly in her face.
"Don't worry, I won't kill you, that pleasure isn't mine," He whispered.
"Leave her alone," Harry said, glaring up at him. Pettigrew laughed.
"You're really in no position to make demands, wouldn't you say Potter?" The door flew open and a robbed figure stepped in. "Master, its Harry Potter," Pettigrew gushed happily.
"I know who it is, you may go, leave me and these children, I'd like to speak to them," Voldemort said in his hiss of a voice. Pettigrew bowed before his master and then let. She was trembling now. Voldemort lowered his hood.
"Harry, how lovely it is to see you," Voldemort hissed. He stared into Harry's green eyes, searching for fear, but Harry showed none. "How very brave you are, coming here, with nothing more than your wand and a girl for your protection." He then moved onto Hermione. "Silly girl, didn't he tell you the you would surely die if you came?"
" He did, I came because I wanted to come, I want you dead just as much as he does," She said, trying not to let her fear show.
"Ah, Miss Granger," Voldemort said with a smile, "It was your filthy muggle parents who were killed by my deatheaters, correct?" she glared at him, but didn't answer. "Revenge is something I would have expected from Mr. Potter here, but never you."
"You don't know a thing about me," she retorted.
Her alarm went off, Hermione opened her eyes and looked around the room. It was still her apartment. She needed to convince herself of that every morning.