They're gone.

What am I standing here for then?

Gone.

There's nothing I can do. Could have done. I didn't do anything.

I just sat there and watched. I watched them die.

I didn't have a choice. Well, I kind of did. I mean, if my brain had let me move I would have done something.

But I didn't move. I couldn't. All I could do was stand there in front of the home I used to live in as it burned into nothing. Everything inside it was smoldering and hot. CRASH! I heard glass shattering. The windows.

All of our personal possessions (not that they mattered that much); The furniture. The pictures. The food. All of my clothes. All of our memories. Gone just like that. Everything gone, all of it. I had nothing. No one to turn to. Not even them.

My brain is screaming for me to run as far from here as I can but I still can't move. It's like everything is moving in slow-motion just before something bad happens. Yet my surroundings are moving so quickly about me. Everyone's yelling and running. I don't know what to do. I can't hear anything. I can't even think. The fire is too high and the smoke is too thick. "Aguamenti," I whispered outloud. But that's all I could do is whisper.

Burning. It was all burning. You didn't - couldn't do anything. Run. Tears welled up in my eyes at the sight laid before me. They threatened to spill over the rim of my eyes and I let them.

That's when I saw it. Really saw it. . .

Suddenly, my reality returned to me and the noise of people screaming in agony and fear was like that of a siren wailing in my ears. "John!" I hear a woman scream. "John, no, please, he's still in the house! Paul, he's still in bed! Nooooooo! Not my son! Not my son!" she shrieked.

The heat from the flames and the smell of the smoke almost made me sick. I was surrounded by fire. The neighborhood was aflame and no one was safe.

This isn't a safe place.

The wind was blowing harder than I remembered and my eyes widened. What are you doing? my mind screamed at me.My adreline pumped furiously and I prepared myself. Run, Hermione. Run... Run

Why can't I move? I look down. My feet were fine but they felt as though they were filled with cement. I couldn't even lift them. Was it shock? I didn't recognize my hand as I held it in front of my face. A shadow is cast by the fire.

I am a damn coward.

Fucking run, then, Hermione!

I was too scared at the moment to even save myself.

"John! John!"

I turned so quickly I'm surprised I didn't break my neck. The same woman is screaming for her son that is stuck in their burning house.

"No, John!" Her husband was trying to pull her back with his arms around her shoulders. "Lynn, he's dead! We can't save him!" Yes you can, I wanted to cry but nothing came from my mouth except for a weak sob.

I felt for my wand in my pants pocket and yanked it out. I could see through John's second-story window. I raised my wand in the air. Before I could shout, the room glowed green and the woman screamed, falling to her knees as she sobbed over and over. "JOHN!" My lungs collapsed in my chest. How much more of this could I take?

Someone save me... Someone...

Apparate, you dolt!

Apparition! I tried to concentrate through the chaos but I can't. I couldn't risk splinching myself...

People in masks (Death Eaters) were running everywhere and I didn't know why they couldn't see me. Or chose not to. Why was I not dead like John? Or my parents. Why was I so lucky?

Why was I still there?

"Hermione!" a familiar voice - a voice I knew and had grown to fear - shouted to me. It was a man but even as I turned round and round in fear I could not find him. No! He grabbed me in his arms from behind and disapparated before I could stop him.

A/N: Who found/saved/kidnapped Hermione? As if you couldn't guess.