Chapter 11
Remus returned with the diary. He was re-reading the passage on the instructions for the spell. Hermione looked at him. "Can we open the box?" She questioned. The box felt warm in her hands though the outside weather was quite cool. Remus shrugged.
"Sure, go ahead" He assented and sat next to her. Hermione carefully removed the latch with a bit of magic and opened it. A glowing light emanated from the inside of it, and Hermione gasped at its beauty.
"My mother's magic…It makes sense…' Magic of mother, Life of family… What's life of family?" Remus asked. Hermione was staring at her hand. She had touched the light wanting to feel the magic. Upon drawing her hand back, it was covered in red goo…warm sticky goo that by all accounts was...
"B-Blood…" Hermione whispered horrified. She looked at her hand. No matter how many times she blinked it was still there. Remus looked at Hermione's hand in shock. Life of family….Blood of family. It made sense and yet he found himself wondering whose blood it was. Hermione felt the room spin. Remus quickly grabbed the box form her and set it gently upon the table before turning to the swooning Hermione.
"Are you going to be alright?" he asked concerned. She nodded and closed her eyes, willing the room to stop spinning. Vaguely she felt Remus hand gently caressing the side of her face. Then she felt the world tilt beneath her and she passed out as she was carried up the stairs. Remus gently set her down on his old bed. He brushed the hair from her face and watched over her worried.
Hermione was in a mist. Voices called from every side, blood coloured the mist. It's not Danny… a woman's voice came from the fog. Don't let my Remy complete the ritual… Evil… Hermione looked around confused. What was evil? Who wasn't Danny? The mist swirled higher and higher, the drone of voices getting louder. She was yanked from the mist world and thrown back into her own. She sat up and retched over the side of the bed, barely missing Remus.
"Are you okay?" He asked when she was finished. She nodded weakly and laid her head in his lap. He cast a quick-cleanup spell to rid the room of the mess and contented himself to stroke her hair and mutter calming words. Touching year old blood and encountering ghosts was enough for anyone and way too much for a sick student Remus thought to himself. Hermione contemplated her dream in silence. What had the voice meant?
A/N: So some things happened over the summer and I really didn't think I'd ever get back in the spirit of writing but... here are 400 words. I'm... working though some things and trying to get back in the swing of things. Any ideas for any of my stories would be greatly appreciated.