Chapter Three:
"If you happen to look away from the people,
And you feel the prick from the pins and the needles,
All of which have been stuck into your arms,
And all of your cries have been false alarms,
And you can't pick up the pieces,
No, you can't pick up the pieces."
All The Little Pieces, Louis XIV

She ran through the grounds, her legs heavy and about to give underneath her. But she wouldn't stop. He was out there, somewhere, fighting a war which he knew he could not win by himself. Why he had gone out in the middle of his night on his own had thrown everyone into confusion. He had no doubt gone to get revenge for what had happened to his sister.

She could see bursts of light in the distance, could hear his voice shouting above the hysteria and she put on an extra burst of speed to reach him, to help him. She gripped her wand tightly in her right hand as she aimed a curse at one death eater coming up behind him. It hit the death eater in the back, wounding him greatly. At once Ron turned to see who it was. His eyes widened and he shouted at her to turn and leave, to get out of there but she wouldn't leave him. She would never leave him.

The three death eaters remaining paused and looked at her. Four others were on the ground unconscious. How Ron had managed on his own so far confused her greatly but she didn't care. He was still alive, still safe. All she had to do was coax him back and they'd both run for it. They'd both go back to the castle and tell Dumbledore about the death eaters. The teachers could handle them. They didn't have to.

"Get out of here, Mione! Get out! Go back!" Ron yelled as the battle started up again, Ron shooting off curses, hitting another death eater square in the chest.

"No! Not without you!" They spat at each other as Ron fought, no one noticing the death eater aiming a curse at Hermione. As soon as Ron heard the curse, he jumped in front of Hermione, shielding her from danger. And everything seemed to go into slow motion. The way his body jolted as he took the brunt of it. The way his eyes widened with fear. The way his lips formed the perfect O. The way his blood began to seep through his shirt. And just as fast as the slow motion came it was gone and he was falling away to the ground and she could hear herself screaming.

She gripped her wand and fired off unforgivable curses at the two remaining death eaters, sending them to the ground dead. She dropped her wand and rushed to Ron's side, picking him up and holding him in her arms. Her hand hovered over his wound as she thought of what she should do before she pressed it to his chest. He was bleeding. He was dieing. In her arms. It seemed like some sort of dramatic movie only it was real life. But this couldn't be real. It couldn't be because Ron couldn't die. He couldn't. He couldn't leave her. Not Again.

She bolted upright in her bed, her breathing labored, sweat drenching her body. Her eyes darted as she took in her surroundings. As she realized she was tucked away, safe inside her room, she closed her eyes and let herself fall apart. She cried into her hands but found they were already wet and sticky. She dropped her hands into her lap and saw that they were covered in blood. A gasp escaped her lips as he eyes widened. She jumped up from her bed and looked at her hands as she ran into her bathroom. Flicking the light switch on, smearing blood on the wall, she looked at herself in the mirror. Her face was smeared in blood. Ron's blood. But he had been dead for two days. His funeral was tomorrow. He was tucked away in a casket, cleaned and perfect. No one would see the wound in his chest. No one would see the empty look in his eyes. He'd just be sleeping to them, only it would be for eternity.

A scream strangled in her throat as her breathing became more labored. She rushed out of her room, tears running down her cheeks, mixing with the blood already there. Sobs erupted from her lips as she rushed down the halls, her hands balled in fists. It was still there. How was there blood there? How did it get there? What was happening to her?

She rammed into the tall figure before she saw him or even noticed he was there. His large strong hands gripped around her forearms holding her still as she struggled in his grasp. She could hear him saying something but could not understand what. She was to busy freaking out over the fact that she had blood on her hands, Ron's blood on her hands and no clue as to why. He had noticed because he was guiding her to someplace, his hands tight but loose and comforting on her arm. Small sobs still leaked from her and tears still spilled out of her eyes.

She felt weak, sick, as if she wouldn't be able to hold herself up anymore. As if at any given moment she would collapse and never get up. He had stopped guiding her as she closed her eyes and melted into him. She was so tired, so empty. She didn't want to move anymore. But soon he was guiding her again, helping her move up the stone steps. She realized that he was taking her to Dumbledore and who was it anyway that was helping her. He was tall, strong, wearing stiff robes that felt rough against her cheek. She opened her eyes and looked up, finding the familiar greasy black hair, tied back with strands falling about his face. That same stone face she had seen that night. The same man that had carried her away from her lover, her boyfriend, her best friend in the whole world.

Her thoughts stopped short as the door to the headmaster's office opened. He gripped her shoulder reassuringly, guiding her into the office with uttermost ease. The old headmaster was asleep in his chair but awakened at Hermione's first step into the odd office. "Severus! What are you doing here?" He asked, his voice groggy as he looked over Hermione's head, not noticing the girl who took care in hiding her blood, tear streaked face behind her hair.

"I ran into Granger while patrolling the halls, Albus," he stated, his voice soft and oddly comforting to Hermione's ears. "It seems that she is covered in blood but from what I can tell, it's not her own. My fear is that it's-"

"Ronald Weasely's blood," Dumbledore finished, a frown marring his usual jovial face. The headmaster nodded as he stood up from his seat and moved around the desk, walking towards Hermione. She felt his fingers resting under her chin, tapping it to tell her to put her head up so he could see. She hesitated, squeezing her eyes shut and clenching her bloody hands. She could feel Severus's hand resting on the small of her back, rubbing the spot gently and she felt that if he could, he would have whispered encouragements in her ear. A small sigh escaped her lips and she raised her head. "You had a dream. Nightmare would be a better word for it, no doubt. Tell me what happened."

Again, she hesitated, her lips sealed tight. She didn't want to relive that night again. She didn't want to recount what she saw. She still didn't want to say it. It would only make the fact that Ron was actually dead too real. She never wanted to say it. It was as if she believed he would come back if she never spoke that dreaded sentence. I watched Ron die. I held Ron as he died. Ron died in my arms. Ron bled to death. Ron is dead.

She watched as Dumbledore shot a glance to Severus. She didn't move to see the exchange between them but soon she felt his hand slip away and she felt cold. Unbearable cold that seemed it would last forever. "No!" The word came choked and unbidden from her lips. It wasn't a shout, more of a soft gasp but soon, Severus was back at her side, his hand back on the small of her back, that comforting warmth flooding her system, keeping her safe and sound, away from the cold. She noted the look Dumbledore gave her and Severus before he returned to his seat at his desk. He motioned for both of them to do the same.

Severus again guided her to one of the seats in front of Dumbledore's desk before taking on beside her. She reached for his hand, clutching it in her own, praying her wouldn't mind Ron's blood on him. He didn't pull away, but squeezed back reassuringly. She wasn't sure why she found solace in the one man that probably hated Ron above all other students, except Harry of course. Why she found solace in a man that liked to make her life at school a living hell. But it seemed that the loss of someone who no one ever thought would die at such a young age turned the tables.

"I find that the telling of dreadful things make people very depressed. Some even go back into themselves and never come back out. Therefore, I usually like to lighten things up," the old man gave a small smile as he opened a drawer and pulled out some candies before placing them on the desk. "I do say, dig in! Sugar is always good for lightening the mood. It also gets us energized and may even help Ms. Granger through her story. Chocolate is good for after telling the story, therefore you shall have some of that afterwards." He pulled out two huge bars of Hershey's chocolate, placing them next to a number of assorted goods. "I have lots of muggle candy. I must say, those muggles can make good candy. I especially like the lemon drops. Minerva likes the gummy worms but you don't know that!" Severus sat back in his chair, not touching the candy, still holding Hermione's hand. He glared at the older man.

"I do not understand how this will help the situation, Albus," the potion master growled. Hermione glanced at him but quickly looked away, not wanting to meet those deadly dark eyes.

"No. I'm sure you do not, Severus. But that's not what matters. What matters is Ms. Granger. Therefore, you must eat up! Go on then. Have some. No doubt you've had them all before!" Hermione looked down at her right hand as her left hand was tucked in Severus's hand. The blood there was dry now, crusted and dark. It looked a bit like finger paint.

"There was so much blood. I remember learning in fifth grade that if someone had a wound, you had to apply pressure to it, to keep blood in so they didn't loose so much. But I couldn't do it. You're supposed to use a towel, a shirt, something soft like fabric, not just your hands. Because it would just squirt out. With a shirt, you could trap the blood but it would keep most of it in. With your hand, all it does it pour, because your pressing an open wound, your squeezing it out of the body." She stared at her hand as she drew back into herself. Her eyes glazed over and soon it was as if she was back out in the field, watching both herself and Ron as they ran through the motions of the dream.

"I ran to him. He was fighting death eaters. He saw me and yelled at me to go back but I wouldn't. I didn't want to leave him," she whispered as she watched it happening before her. "One of the death eaters through a curse at me and he jumped in front of me. It happened so slow and yet so fast. One minuet he was staring at me, angry at me for being there. The next he was falling away. I yelled some curses at the death eaters and went to Ron's side." She reached out with her right hand as if to grasp at the two figures in front of her and pull them back into her world so that she could save them. Both Dumbledore and Severus watched as she grasped at thin air.

"There was so much blood. I remember learning in fifth grade that if someone had a wound, you had to apply pressure to it, to keep blood in so they didn't loose so much," she began to repeat but Severus had jumped from his chair and grasped her shoulders, shaking her out of her trance. Her eyes came into focus and she gazed at her teacher who was staring at her, his expression worried and worn. "I'm the reason he's de-" she stopped her self, a small sob climbing up her throat. "I'm the cause. If I hadn't been there, if I hadn't have gone after him-"

"Stop," Severus growled, his grip on her shoulders tightening. His face had become hard, almost angry. "Don't blame yourself. Don't think of it anymore. You can't think of it anymore. Do you understand me?" She nodded her head yes, not hearing Dumbledore softly whisper Severus's name. His grip loosened and his eyebrows knitted together as he looked at her. She could fall into those dark blue eyes and drown forever in them, she decided.

"Severus," Dumbledore said his voice a little stronger. It seemed to bring the teacher out of his reverie, making him let go of her and stand up straight. "It would be wise to go back to sleep. Severus, you will make a sleeping draught for Ms. Granger, one filled with happy dreams, one to block the nightmares. While he is doing this, it would be good for you, Ms. Granger, to clean yourself up. We shall discuss the rest later. It is too late to dwell on this any longer. I will need to look up information on dreams becoming reality. It seems that's what has happened. Time travel. A portal opened only inside your head. Something dangerous." He paused, looking at them. "We must be careful, very careful for I fear of what should happen should you not stop those death eaters and perish with Mr. Weasely too."

TBC