A/N: Many thanks to my wonderful beta Bella ;) I'd love to hear your opinion of the story, so if you have time it'd be great to leave me a review. I don't bite.

Chasing Death

Hermione was sitting in her bed, panting heavily. She didn't have the slightest idea why was she feeling so exhausted when she had just awoken. The ache in her muscles was excruciating, but the soreness between her legs was even worse; unbearable, in fact. What was happening to her? She supposed it was because of Harry and Ginny's party for their departure last night; it was tiring to dance like a lunatic for a whole night and then wake up at four in the morning without an obvious reason. She shook her head and felt something wet touching her neck. Slowly her lips formed the soundless "My hair's wet," while her fingers met her curls. "I don't remember having a bath after I came back, and I surely haven't taken it while sleeping. How I could not notice that wet thing before? What's going on here?"

Hermione took her wand, pointed it to her hair, and murmured a quick drying spell.

She laid back in her soft bed, between her black sheets, astonished. Hermione closed her eyes and was just going to think more of that wet hair mystery when she touched something harsh on the cover… Her hands were still a bit wet from her hair, so she prodded the spot of the cover and pressed her thumb against her middle finger. No, she couldn't mistake it; she could never mistake the pure scarlet color and metallic aroma of blood.

Hermione jumped once her brain correctly comprehended the information her senses had handed her. She turned on the lights and took her wand from the night table, where she left it just a few hours ago.

She looked around, trying to force the sleep out of her body, searching for something, no matter what, which could help her to understand this ridiculous situation. Everything was where it was supposed to be and Hermione wondered whether she was hallucinating. Maybe the blood was hers, she could have cut herself somewhere. Yeah, that was a fine suggestion, only that she didn't feel pain anywhere in her body, which automatically omitted that option.

When the girl didn't find anything she could do, she decided to go to the living room to read to calm herself. Hermione didn't feel like sleeping tonight.

On her way, she put all the sheets in the washing machine. The young woman could just remove the stains with an easy spell, but the feeling that there was blood on the sheets didn't allow her to do so. Inside, Hermione shivered.

''I'm going mad.'' She picked up the book she read the previous day from the table and began to read.

It was nearly twilight when Hermione decided to take a little walk in the park. She loved this time of the day along with the quiet beauty of this little town. She and Harry had picked this place for their house for it was nice and calm, unlike the other noisy and crowded places they used to live before. But now Harry was on a trip with Ginny, celebrating their reunion, and she was a bit sad because she was going to live solo again. She was happy for her friends, of course, but they all left her one by one until there was no one else who could leave her. She and Harry had lived together ever since he separated with Ginny two years ago but now they were an item again. She hated herself for being so self-centered, but it was depressing to live alone in the big house and she couldn't sleep well at all; last night had proven it. Hermione sighed and ordered herself to stop thinking about this.

She looked at the leaves falling and finally noticed that the autumn was in it's apogee. It was beautiful, yet extremely melancholy, and right now Hermione was quite a gloomy person. She had been like that for three weeks, to be exact .

''Mm, last night was great, I haven't danced for so long.'' A satisfied smile touched her lips when she remembered the marvelous party.

A smile that disappeared as fast as it appeared.

The young woman kept on walking and just when she took another path in the park she saw a place surrounded with a yellow line, with the type Muggle policemen used to mark a crime place. She wondered what had happened and walked toward two men guarding the place.

''Excuse me, policemen, what had happened here?'' Her curiosity and the fact that she hadn't talk with a living soul for the whole day urged her to start the conversation.

''Don't you know? It was in the newspapers and on the news today. Everyone is talking about it.''

Obviously when I'm asking you, it means that I'm not familiar with it, Hermione thought irritably.

''No, sir, I don't read much newspapers,'' replied Hermione, smiling innocently.

''Ah, well, you see, a man was killed here last night. Right there.'' The man pointed at a small spot stained with dark red, almost black blood. Hermione thought that the color had changed because of the time passed.

''And you don't know who the murderer is, I suppose? Since you're staying here.'' The know-it-all nature of Hermione was taking advantage of her kindness at that moment.

''Yeah, we are not yet sure. We are suspicious about certain people and I promise you, ma'am, we'll catch this man soon. No need to worry.'' The policemen was a bit annoyed at the fact that Hermione reminded him the police still hadn't caught the criminal.

''I'm sure you will.''

It seemed that the policeman's appreciation of the young lady's beauty was stronger than the slight irritation because he warned, ''Be careful, miss, don't go out after dark alone. At least certainly not after midnight.''

''But why? Was this man murdered then?''

He nodded. ''We are not yet sure of the exact time, but it has to be somewhere between two-thirty and three at the morning.''

Hermione was about to leave the man to do his job when she remembered something.

''Who's the victim?''

''John Gallagher.''

''Thank you, police officer. You are very kind.''

Sad, Hermione thought, he looked like a good man.

Mr. Gallagher was one of her neighbors, and even though she didn't socialize with them much, he was always kind and nice to her. On the contrary, his wife was usually ready to slay Hermione with gazes if she looked at her husband for more than a few seconds.

Hermione thought she should go to pay her respects to Mrs. Gallagher for her loss, but she didn't feel ready to bear sobbing women right now. Or at any other time as a matter of fact. She had enough tears in her life, enough for two lives ahead.

Hermione found her way home, which was very close to the area where the poor guy was killed, she noted. The evening was still young and she didn't know what to do. It was so dull to live alone…

Stop it! Can't you think of anything else than yourself, you self-centered, arrogant woman! her mind screamed, exasperated with Hermione. Be glad that they're finally together; it doesn't matter that you're alone, miserable, and depressed when someone is still able to feel happy.

It was a month ago when Harry and Ginny bought their own place and tried to start everything from the beginning, but Hermione was still not feeling comfortable living without him.

Hermione rested her head in her hands. Now, when Harry and Ginny were in Casablanca, she didn't have anyone to go out with. Ron's wife didn't want to see her and had the annoying habit of throwing things when she spotted Hermione. Oh, how she hated Parvati! Awful woman, if you asked Hermione, who had the mania that Hermione was trying to steal her husband.

''If it was like that, you'd never had him first of all. I could marry Ron, but I didn't, okay. So don't act like a fool and let me go in, and see him.'' These were Hermione's words the last time she went to see her friend, but the only response she received was the door shutting dangerously just a few inches before her face. Stupid woman.

Of course Ron used to see her, they arranged secret meetings, but they were rare, for he was busy with his work, wife, and their two boys. Hermione understood him perfectly, but still, it was a foolish situation, which she hated.

Oh, I'm distracting myself again with these useless thoughts of mine.

She hated when she had such soap opera-like moments with herself, but on the other hand, it was funny how she was talking to herself. Maybe it was true that she was going crazy. After all, you can't hear normal people argue with themselves, right?

Hermione entered the kitchen and made a steamingcup of black tea, her favorite. She took her place on the couch, drinking little sips of the tea.

''I need work, and I need it soon. I'll lose my mind completely if I continue sitting around with nothing to do.''

But this wasn't up to her and she knew it. Hermione was an editor in a publishing house in London, and right now, she didn't have any books to proofread. This fact only added to the fact that she was staying alone in her house, and was probably what made her so depressed and miserable. The young woman was sure, however, that this was a just temporary state and she would be the old energetic and cheerful Hermione soon again.

Now off to bed, girl. Time to sleep.

And just when she was heading to her bedchamber, her eyes fall on the calendar, hanging on the wall in the corridor.

15th October.