"It's so good to have yeh back, 'ermione," Hagrid said. They were going on a walk around the lake. Michael was off skipping around in front of them, throwing rocks into the lake, and doing what little boys generally did. It was the day after Hermione had found the letter, and she had given herself little time to think about it. Why should she? She would only get her hopes up that he would come back, and he couldn't. Could he?
No, don't be silly. Draco was never coming back. It just couldn't happen, no matter how much she wanted it to.
Oh, how she wanted it to.
Suddenly a voice interrupted her thoughts. "You all right, 'ermione? You're awful quiet," Hagrid inquired.
"Oh…" she said. She was surprised to be interrupted so suddenly. "Yes, Hagrid, I'm fine. Just thinking..." she trailed off.
"I see," he said, sending her a knowing look. It was painfully obvious just what she was thinking about. "Look, I know yeh miss 'im an' all, but—"just what she never got to find out. A child's scream pierced the air causing both hearts to stop beating temporarily.
"Michael!" Hermione screamed. She ran forward, looking for him. He had disappeared. When she finally made it up to the spot she had seen him last, she looked around trying to find him. There was no such luck. Nothing could be easy in her life. "Michael!" she screamed again. "Where are you, baby?"
Then she saw it. Amongst what seemed to be miles of layers of ice atop the lake, there was one little hole, about ten feet from shore. Michael had fallen in the freezing lake. Hermione was at a loss. How could she walk across the ice when her son, whom weighed about a third of her, fell through the ice? She had to think of something, and quick. Yet she didn't know what she could do.
She felt like she was in a dream. This couldn't be happening. She couldn't lose him too. He was all she had left; she needed her son. Why did it have to happen to her?
Slow motion—the world was spinning in slow motion. But she knew she had to do something. She slowly began walking out onto the ice. She didn't care if she fell in too. She had to save him.
Closer—she was getting closer. Is he still alive?
Not much further—would she fall in too?
There! There's where he fell in. But where is he?
She spotted him. He was slowly sinking, what could she do? She was a witch, was she not? Yes, she would use magic. It had saved her plenty of times while on her adventures with Ron and Harry. She simply used a spell and levitated him up, up into the air. Slowly she lowered him back onto the ice, this time in a stronger place. She was sure he wouldn't fall again.
"Michael…" she trailed off as she ran to him. He was blue. When she touched him, she noticed that he was shivering. "Michael," she said, beginning to become frantic. He was cold, just like his father was after he died. No, she wouldn't let him die too.
"Michael, you have to wake up! Please! I need you! I can't lose you too," she couldn't do anything. He was slipping fast, losing color. As tears poured down her eyes, she realized that she had to take action. This was in her control.
With a sudden burst of energy she picked him up and slowly walked to the edge of the lake. As soon as she reached solid ground she began running. If she ran fast enough she would make it to the infirmary in time. Nothing could stop her.
On she ran. Students and teachers alike saw her and barely had time to register that their teacher and fellow professor was running as if life depended on it, with her son in her arms, before she was completely out of view. But his life did depend on it. And so did her's.
As fast as Hermione was running, it did not seem fast enough for her. It would never seem fast enough. The world still felt as if someone had placed a massive charm on it, slowing things down.
"Madam Pomfrey! Madam Pomfrey, I need your help!" she yelled as she burst into the room. She placed her son on a bed and kept yelling for help. Within seconds, Pomfrey, as well as Professor Dumbledore and Harry burst into the room. She didn't even realize how strange it was that Harry was here. Her attention was fixed solely on her son. She couldn't see or hear or think about anything else, besides the fact that she needed him to be alive.
"What happened, Hermione? Tell us what happened!" Harry asked. She didn't hear him.
"You have to save him! He can't die! He can't die!" she shouted.
Hagrid hustled into the room seconds later. Hagrid would tell Harry what was wrong. "What happened, Hagrid?" Harry asked.
"He fell in th' lake. Was in there fer quite a while. Yeh gotta help him, Pomfrey," Hagrid said, "immediately."
This was wrong; so very wrong, indeed. She felt lost and confused and hopeless. Already she was regretting not cherishing her son enough, yet she knew that there was little she could have done to cherish him more than she had. He was the world to her, the one she lived for. She felt she would be nothing without him.
They were taking him away from her and closing the curtains. She needed to be with him. "No! You can't take him from me! You can't! I need him! I need him!" Harry came over to her and grabbed her around the waist, trying to calm her down. He was whispering words of comfort into her ear, telling her that he would be alright. But Hermione didn't hear any of it.
"Listen, Hermione! He's going to be alright! He's going to live! You have to calm down! This isn't helping anything!" he shouted when he realized that his previous tactics weren't working.
"I can't, Harry! I can't! That's my baby! Not him, too! Not him!"
She was hysterical. Harry just held her and struggled with her. Her frenzy brought up a swell of pity in him. She had gone through so much already. She didn't deserve this too. It wasn't fair. There was something so wrong with the world. It brought so much pain and unhappiness. He had experienced it, and now he watched Hermione experience it and it just wasn't fair!
"I know, Hermione! I know it's not fair! This shouldn't be happening to you, but it is. It is happening, and I can't stand watching it. I can't stand it." His voice was despairing, like he had given up hope. If possible, it cut Hermione even deeper. In that one moment, she had completely given up hope. She sat down and cried into her hands. She cried because that was all she could do. She cried for the past and what she used to have. She cried for the present and what she didn't have. She cried for the future and for what she feared she would never have.
The cries of Hermione Malfoy that day were haunting. They echoed through the halls of Hogwarts, telling a sad story of despair. Any listener could almost feel the pain in those cries themselves. They were hollow sobs, reflecting overwhelming misery and a lifetime of doubts, fears, rejection, pain, loss, and sorrow. There was nothing that anyone could do to help. No one could heal the scars which marred her heart. No one could erase the memories which haunted her soul. No one could remove the fears that were in her very bones. No one could help her, and everyone knew it.
She was drowning in her sorrow, and she desired nothing more than to either die or be rescued. She was tired of the pain. She was tired of struggling through day after day. She was tired and she needed someone to carry her. But there was no one. No one.