UNREAL REALITIES

Chapter 3: Acceptance

DISCLAIMER: As if it were ever in doubt, I don't own Harry Potter, or anything affiliated with Harry Potter. And, before you ask, Yes, that fact does depress me slightly. As does the fact that I don't have the massive fortune that accompanies the ownership of Harry Potter.

A/N – just want to say thanks to my reviewers so far, glad you liked the first couple of chapters :-)

"Kill them?" She asked weakly.

"Yes. It's the only way to be sure. You must understand that while these characters and this place exist within your mind there is a possibility that they can overwhelm you again. These are not real people. You must remember that. They were created by you, therefore they must be destroyed by you."

Snape was talking but all Hermione could focus on was her mother's face. Could she really kill her friends? Could she even kill Draco? She'd thought about it often enough, he could be such a bastard, but when it came down to it could she kill anyone?

But if they weren't real, shouldn't she feel no guilt for murdering them? Despite what she'd been told, she still had trouble thinking that these people were merely in her head. She knew them all. She'd hugged them, touched them, kissed them, talked to them, argued with them. And now she had to execute them?

Snape's voice continued on and on until she felt she would scream at him, but she desperately wanted to be left alone so she could think, and she was afraid that any more screaming would bring the nurse with the tranquillisers back, so she listened politely.

"From what we have been able to piece together from your accounts in the occasions that you were lucid, and your mumblings whilst you were having an episode, we have concluded that these four people are the ones whom you describe most often."

Malfoy would be flattered that he plays such a large role. Do I really talk about him that much?

"And what we have learned about what you have described as 'the last battle' between your side and Voldemort's side, you saw Harry, Ginny and Ron all seriously injured and near death. We believe that it is partly this occurrence that, in layman's terms, snapped you out of the delusion. Therefore, this is the only reasonable solution we could come to."

"I know it's hard Mynee, but these people aren't really people. I know that you feel like you would be doing something terrible, you were always such a good girl, but you would be doing it for the best. You would get better and you would never have to think about it again."

Looking into her mother's eyes she knew that there was only one thing she could do.

"I'll try." She whispered.

Her mother started smiling and talking excitedly, both to Hermione and to Dr. Snape, but her voice started fading, becoming quieter and quieter until she couldn't hear anything anymore.

Panicking, she opened her mouth to shout for help until someone called her name.

"Hermione, wake up! Hermione!"

She blinked, but when she opened her eyes the scene before her was different again.

Ron stared down at her, a grin on his handsome face, his red hair falling softly into his eyes.

"Good morning, Miss Granger," he said to her, with mock formality, "did you sleep well?" Without waiting for an answer, he dumped a pile of clothes on her bed. "Madam Pomfrey says you can leave. It's only 7am, if you hurry and get dressed we'll go down to breakfast together."

Her legs were so unsteady she felt as though at any moment she could collapse. Ron's arm around her waist would normally have given her some measure of comfort, it always had in the past.

Now she was having trouble not throwing it off of her and screaming at him until he disappeared. That was what had to happen. It didn't matter that she had all these memories of him, or that his arm was so solid and warm, all that mattered was that he wasn't real. He was keeping her here, in this fantasy world. And he had to die.

He has to die. He has to die. He has to die.

This mantra played over and over in Hermione's mind as she allowed him to gently lead her into the great hall and sit her down beside Harry and Ginny.

"Ginny? No-one bothered to tell me you were still…alive." Hermione attempted to throw a reproachful look at Harry and Ron, but a wave of sadness passed through her until all she could muster was a teary half-glare. Now this meant she had to kill her best female friend as well as the others. She'd hoped that Dr. Snape was wrong and Ginny had been killed by Voldemort, so that she didn't have to deal with it.

"Sorry, Hermione," Ron had the decency to look sheepish, "but you never really gave us the chance, and then Madam Pomfrey threw us out so we couldn't really."

Ginny reached over to hug Hermione, who flinched the moment the red-head touched her. Pulling away with a concerned and rather hurt look on her face, "Hermione? What's wrong? Are you ok?"

"I'm fine Gin, I'm just a bit tired that's all." How could she tell the girl that in the very near future Hermione was going to have to kill her?

"How long was I…you know…unconscious?" Hermione asked them. In the other world only two days had passed, according to Dr. Snape, but she had no idea how much time had passed at Hogwarts.

"Only about a week." Harry replied nonchalantly, taking a bite of his toast. Being unconscious for long periods of time never really fazed any of the group since it happened so often. "You were in St. Mungo's, but when school started two days ago they transferred you here so that you could be with your friends when you woke up."

Did I wake up though? That's the question.

"I…I'm going get my books, Ron didn't bring them to the hospital wing when he brought me my clothes." She stood abruptly and almost ran out of the hall, leaving her bewildered friends to wonder about her.

As she hurried through the corridors, not paying attention to where she was going, her mind raced. She went over all the things she'd thought and felt in the last few days.

She was so lost in her thoughts that when she finally broke out of her reverie she realised that she had no idea where she was.

This had never happened to her before. She'd been at the school for five years and, together with Harry, Ron and occasionally Ginny, she'd explored almost every inch of the castle. The only place they really stayed away from was the deeper dungeons.

The dungeons of Hogwarts were like a labyrinth. The Slytherin common room, the potions classroom, Snape's and Filch's offices were all reasonably near the entrance hall but the dungeons continued on past them, made up of unused rooms and dark twisting passages, left alone by all but the ghosts.

Judging by the dank smell and the growing darkness Hermione assumed that she had somehow wandered too far into the bowels of the castle.

But something was wrong. It took her a while to figure out what didn't fit. It was nagging at the back of her head, like a word you couldn't find or a person too far away to make out properly.

It was perfume.

She could smell perfume, here, in Hogwarts dungeons. Not just any perfume. Her mothers perfume.

"Mum?" She instantly regretted speaking aloud as the word shattered the eerie silence, echoing off the claustrophobic walls.

There was no reply. Not that she'd expected any. Mingling with the smell of the perfume was the coconut smell of her mothers hair and she could have sworn she heard a laughing voice whisper the word "Mynee."

Hermione backed up against a wall and looked wildly around her.

"Who's there? I know someone's out there. Who are you?" Silence fell around her once more as the echoes faded away.

God, I really am crazy.

She didn't know how long she stood there, her back pressed to the wall, her eyes wide, trying to discern any movement in the shadows.

Eventually she heard footsteps making their way towards her and her tired eyes picked out Snape's figure, a darker black than the shadows of the corridor.

"What are you doing down here Granger?" He asked her coldly, stopping in front of her and looking at her with hooded eyes. "Shouldn't you be in a class right now? I'm afraid I will have to deduct ten points from Gryffindor, twenty if you do not get to class right this second."

She stared at him for a moment, unable to come up with a coherent sentence. Her mind didn't want to work. All she'd thought about for so long was whether she was in a delusion when she was at Hogwarts, or whether she was in a delusion when she was in the hospital bed. Either way it seemed safe to say that she, Hermione Granger – genius witch and bookworm extroadinaire – was crazy. Out of her mind, crawling up the walls, get the straightjacket, crazy.

Before Snape could say another word a hysterical giggle forced its way out of her throat.

"Are you laughing at me?" He snarled at her, his anger at her impudence evident in his voice.

"I'm sorry, Doctor," she managed to choke out between her laughter, "it's not my fault! I'm crazy, you see."

"Did you just call me Doctor?" He glared down at the girl, who was almost on the floor by now, barely able to stand through the force of her giggles.

"Why wouldn't I? That's what you are! You're a Doctor! You're Doctor Snape. It's all your fault. You're the one who told me to do it! How's my mother by the way?"

As the last line fell from her lips the laughter stopped as quickly as it began.

"Your…mother?" Snape looked confused now, and almost at a loss for words.

"I'm sorry, Professor," she tried to collect herself. Surely if Professor Snape heard what she was going to do he would try and stop her? After all, she had to burn down Hogwarts and she was pretty sure he wouldn't be very happy about that. She just had to remember not to confuse him with Doctor Snape anymore.

"I don't know what just happened. I got lost and I think I just got a bit claustrophobic for a while. Could you please tell me how to get out of these dungeons and I'd be happy to get to class?"

He didn't look convinced but he led her to the entrance hall and left her there without another word. He was probably worried that if he said anything it would set her off again.

Hermione didn't bother going to class. From what Ron had told her while they were walking down to breakfast the Slytherin's had a free morning. He hadn't been very happy about it as apparently it meant that the Slytherin Quidditch team were starting training earlier than ever before.

She strode purposely towards the Quidditch pitch. If killing people was the only way to get out of this and get back to reality then she was going to make sure that Malfoy was first.