Chapter 7 – No Tears Left

Hermione was certain that it was all a dream. Surely this couldn't happen in real life. She returned to consciousness when he started to tickle her and pull her bushy hair but she gave no notice of his presence. A voice in her brain commanded her to stay still until he went away. She was frozen in terror by his touch so much that he dared to twist his arm until it broke but her body just couldn't move. Her mind wandered to the day her Dad had read her a book for the first time. It was the three little pigs and she remembered that she had loved the way her father had imitated the wolf's rusty voice as he 'huffed and puffed and blew the whole house down'. Hermione had no idea why she was thinking of kids stories at a time like this, but it felt somewhat comforting to think of her parents.

She was up to the sixth day now. Not much time was left before she would be unconscious forever. Opening her eyes, she spotted her crashed cell phone five feet away from her. Why had he taken her phone? How did he even know about them? Hermione found that she could not look at or touch that phone again. It was infected by him. If she touched it, her hands would tremble and tears would come to her eyes, reminding her of the terrible thing that had just happened. She never wanted to look back at it. Either she would get out and move on or die without any memories of the past week.

"Are you awake?" He said in a low voice. Hermione looked away and didn't answer. She didn't need to answer to him. She didn't want to speak with him.

"Fine, don't talk to me."

The nerve of him was appalling. He hadn't apologized, felt sympathy, or said nice words to her at all. Did he really think she would reply to his shitty questions? If she was to die, she would do it alone and without anyone having remorse for her. Her eyes fell back on the phone. He must have been trying to call out, but she knew that was impossible because there was no signal in the room. If there was, she would have thought of it days ago. She rummaged through her purse and saw that everything had been messed up. She was an organized person and hated it when someone touched her things.

After throwing the purse across the room, Hermione rested her back against the wall and breathed, which was one of the harder things to do. Her breath was short and rough as if it was going to run out very soon. She could see bones everywhere sticking out of the skin, if there was any skin left. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale…

"I was trying to use your phone to call someone but I had trouble using it. Do you think you could call?"

How can I when you broke it, she thought bitterly, still keeping her eyes closed.

"Could you tell me how to make the call?"

She didn't reply.

"At least nod or shake your head."

Her head remained still. She didn't have to obey any of his orders and she wasn't going to, just for the sake of pissing him off.

"I went mad…alright?"

Was this supposed to be an apology? He had to be kidding himself.

"I didn't know what I was doing."

Hermione wanted to scream at him. He knew exactly what he was doing, how could he not? Just because you're in a closed room with no one around doesn't mean you can take advantage of a girl. He was evil, corrupt, vindictive, senile, malevolent, all the bad things in the world. If only she was a hit woman, he would have been dead by now…

"So, are you going to call?"

Hermione played with her hair, making a strand of it straight.

"Have any other ideas?"

No answer.

"Fine. I won't try talking to you again, but just know that if we work together we can still get out, just like you said. Let's put the past behind us. Agree?"

"You should stop talking. You'll dehydrate faster." Hermione said for the first time. He raised an eye, "Don't mock me."

"Don't mock me." Hermione said.

"Very funny."

"Very funny."

That shut him up. Hermione took the time to try and Disapparate a few times, but all she ended up with was a painful headache. Everything was slowing down around her, as if it couldn't move as long as she was in there. She didn't need any food or water. All she craved for was to see a familiar face. Her Mum and Dad, Harry, Ron, anyone. They would be her real medicine.

So she sat there. Sat there until her eyes couldn't lift their own weight and drooped down every few seconds. Her eyes wandered over to him for a second and she sat up straight. He was sprawled against the floor with no movement detectable in his hands or feet. His head was faced the opposite side and she was sure that it wasn't moving either. Before it had happened, she would have celebrated at his demise but that was not the case now. Her brain stimulated and forgot of all past events, and in no time, she found herself next to him.

Hermione heaved him face up and stretched out his eyes. No response. Next, she felt his wrist. There was barely anything there. His skin was pure white, bereft of all blood. What was she supposed to do? Oh god…She wanted him to pay for what he'd done but she didn't want to be there alone. She slapped his cheeks a few times. Nothing. Her body led her to his feet as she started rubbing them. Nothing. As much as she was going to regret her next action, it had to be done.

Hermione narrowed closer, leveling her face with his, and went completely still for a second, hesitant about what she was doing. She sighed and went in, opening his mouth widely, and sucked her own mouth in his, making sure that her eyes were concealed from the sight. After a few quick breaths, she retrieved her lips and thumped his chest. She was sure she felt something inside of her from doing it but she wasn't just ready to decide what it was. Hermione repeated the process a few times until she felt a movement in his right hand. Toppling off him, she rubbed his hands until his eyes opened slightly. They were filled with fright.

"He-rrr-mione…?" A hoarse voice croaked. Hermione noticed that his hands were shaking uncontrollably, and immediately she grasped them. His face was turning paler by the second. She looked at him sympathetically and helplessly, and not knowing what else to do, she lifted him up and embraced him tightly. He couldn't die. He just couldn't.

"I'm…sorry." He took a sharp intake of breath, which ended up being his last. Hermione broke into tears and shook his body as hard as he could.

"No, don't leave me…don't leave me…please."

Her tears had run out. She felt everything fading as darkness pervaded her eyes, and she was no longer attached to him as she fell to the floor.