Hermione could recognize her mother's mane of dark, curly hair from anywhere, the same she had inherited. Dressed in simple afternoon attire, her skin looked unnaturally pale beneath her thin cardigan, her face shadowed and sunken as she turned to look at her daughter. Hermione couldn't move as she looked up to meet the deep hazel eyes of her mother. She had always admired the softness and comfort that came with them, a playful twinkle shining through each time Mrs. Granger had smiled down at her or laughed at one of her father's corny jokes.
Now, they were filled with something different. Her mother didn't smile back, mutter a simple hello, embrace her forgotten daughter, or even move anywhere remotely towards Hermione. In a sense, she looked in a dream-like daze, not quite where she ought to be but still there. Her eyes were now shallow with an emotionless stare, something only comparable to death. Hermione felt a shiver run up her spine as Mrs. Granger finally broke her cold greeting and turned away, walking further into the thick wall of fog.
Finally finding her breathing again and furiously wiping at her tear stained face, Hermione took a step and followed the clearing pathway with each graceful step Mrs. Granger took. The farther they walked, the tighter her stomach knotted itself. Something wasn't right, she knew that was a given fact. Her mother shouldn't be standing in front of her but safely tucked away in the heart of Australia. She shouldn't be leading her deeper into the thickening fog but sitting at home with a book nestled in her hands. These thoughts poured through Hermione's mind as she continued through the silvery mist, blindly following whoever it was she was really following.
Mrs. Granger suddenly came to a halt, Hermione stopping a few feet behind her. Holding her breath as her mother turned to see her, she felt a wave of horror sweep through her at the expression on her face.
Mrs. Granger's eyes were no longer emotionless and dead but were filled with thick tears, fear and terror encased in her once warm features. Her lips trembled uncontrollably as a sob racked through her body, taking in her daughter from head to toe as if memorizing her to hold on to for the last time.
"M-Mum?" Hermione whispered, feeling the lump rising to the back of her throat at the sight of Mrs. Granger in shambles. She had always known her mother to be a strong woman and rarely saw her shed a tear. Now to see her in such a state for reasons she didn't know, Hermione's heart pinched with unbearable guilt and pain.
Just as the words of Hermione's name formed on Mrs. Granger's lips, she didn't get the chance to utter a single one. The mist around them both began to swirl, whipping the fog towards Hermione's face and blinding her mother from her sight. Hermione screamed into the fog for her to come back as the ground seemed to lurch underneath her. Her surroundings fell away into something icy-cold and black; the sensation of being pulled through a dark whirlpool filled her senses. Squeezing her eyes shut, Hermione wrapped her arms tightly around her chest as the bitter winds continued to whip against her burning cheeks.
She yelped as the ground gave another alarming jerk. Not daring to look just yet, she waited until the world had stopped spinning and the harsh breeze eased away into nothing before willing herself to uncurl from her protective ball. Regaining her rapid heartbeat and finding her breath, Hermione stretched her fingers against the soft surface beneath her of what felt to be...carpet?
Her eyes shot open as she looked down to the material before her. The sky blue carpet of her old bedroom seeped between her fingers, curling around the rough and cracked skin.
Slowly rising from the floor, Hermione gasped as she looked around her old room. The simple walls and light texturing flooded her senses as she took it all: her bed with a single pillow, the wood desk her father had made for her 9th birthday, the collage of pictures hanging against her bed frame, the large array of books lining the far wall. She stood in the center not believing what was before her. She had left this life behind before the war had even begun, and now she was back in the place that haunted her most.
Hermione glanced down to the foot of her floral bedspread to see an old copy of the daily prophet. Nuzzled in the left corner, an alarming headline caught her attention like it had done a few years before: Violence Spreads, Muggle Family Murdered. Inhaling sharply, she stepped away from her bedside, running into her desk chair and sending a stack of school papers sprawling down to the floor.
The pounding of her heart matched with the rain that echoed against the edge of her windowsill, a light rumble of thunder accompanying the quiet atmosphere. The silence was suddenly broken as a cheerful voice called out to her.
"Hermione! Tea is ready, darling."
Mrs. Granger's voice carried up the stairs through her open bedroom door. She inhaled sharply at the sound of her words. They weren't flooded with fear, or resentment, or even nothing at all. It was her voice.
"Mum?" she called back.
"Yes?"
"Mum!" Hermione cried, stumbling over the papers and racing towards the hall. Almost tripping over herself to get down the stairs, Hermione flung the door to their tiny sitting room open. The sparse wall, the cloth couch in front of the fireplace, the moving pictures she had taken with a special camera from Mr. Weasley, a piano in the far corner, and her parents. Standing up on either side of the couch, her mother and father stood with confused and worried expressions on their faces.
Hermione could only stare as she took them in. Mr. Granger stood with his thin-fair hair, a simple sweater-vest, and pale trousers. Beside him, Mrs. Granger wore the same outfit Hermione had seen her in earlier, though now her hair was tightly pulled back into a bun.
Realizing once again who was standing in front of her, and not a part of a dream that would soon end, Hermione practically jumped onto her mother, wrapping her arms tightly around her neck. "Mum!" she said again, squeezing her eyes shut and pressing her face against her cardigan.
Heavy, happy tears spilled from her eyes as she hiccuped on a sob. Hugging her as tight as she could in case she never got to again, Hermione only pulled back when she felt a hand rest gently on her shoulder. Pulling away from her mother, Hermione met the deep, dark eyes of her father. A gentle smile tugged at the corner of his lips, sending her into an array of sniffs and hiccups all over again.
"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" Mrs. Granger finally asked when Hermione stepped out of her father's embrace. "Is everything alright?"
"Everything's perfect," she gasped, wiping at her eyes as a beaming smile spread across her face. Looking into her mother's concerned gaze, she took in every inch of her beautiful face. Even when Hermione was young, she had been mildly jealous of the beauty her mother possessed. Many would proclaim her as an ordinary woman, or of simple taste; Hermione couldn't care in the slightest.
As she was about to embrace her parents again, a sudden presence took over the house. The scar on her left arm where the word "Mudblood" played as a constant reminder to the world in which she now lived, suddenly prickled and stung as whatever it was crept closer. Hermione's brow furrowed as she looked towards the door. Out of pure reflex she reached for her wand only for her hand to meet with empty air.
The front door blew in. Sending her flying towards the wall, Hermione landed in a puddle of broken glass shards with more raining over on top of her. She screamed as her father threw his arms over her to protect her from whatever, or whoever, was suddenly attacking.
Mrs. Granger hurried to their hiding spot behind the sitting chair. Outside, the light pattering of rain had turned to gusts of wind whipping against the side of the house. Day had turned to night like the flip of a switch clouding the entire room in an eerie darkness. The door toppled onto the floor, the remaining glass in the window panes shattering.
Two figures now stood silhouetted in the frame of the doorway, dark hoods engulfing their heads and silvery Death Eaters masks covering their faces. A loud and blood-chilling cackle echoed from behind them. Recognition flashed through Hermione's mind and her heart surged. Even away from their last meeting, she would recognize that crazy laughter and cold presence from anywhere.
Bellatrix Lestrange swept into the room, her hair as wild and crazy as ever while her smile was just the same. A white light illuminated the room as she cackled again.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk, I was expecting so much more from Potter's Mudblood friend. Can't even come out to face me herself. Such a pity…well, might as well get on with it." She cocked her wild head to the side and grinned, twirling her wand in her hand sending an array of sparks over the room. With a snap of her fingers, the two Death Eaters strode across the room to their hiding spot. Hermione held her breath as the footsteps proceeded closer with each step.
Mrs. Granger yelped with pain as a spark landed on her shoulder searing the cotton of her sweater. Two hands roughly grabbed her by the arms and dragged her to the center of the room accompanied by Mr. Granger who was now magically bound by the hands. Hermione tried to fight against whoever pinned her to the floor in front of the fireplace but to no avail did they move. Her screams and pleading to let them go were put to an abrupt stop as she felt a stunning spell consume her body, freezing her into place even as her frantic eyes flew between her trembling parents.
Leaning over her father, Bellatrix grazed the bottom of his chin with her wand leaving a burning trail in her wake. Clenching his teeth, he refused to reveal his pain even though his trembling form was as good as a confession. She smirked down at him before rising to her full height.
"Mr. Granger, is it?" Bellatrix questioned walking around the small room. She kicked aside a broken picture frame as she continued. "So, you're the father of this scummy brat -"
"I wouldn't call her the scum in this house right now." Mr. Granger bit out between his teeth. Belltraix's amused, gleeful face changed to pure rage. With one swift motion of her hand, a loud slap relinquished around the sitting room.
"HOW DARE YOU, FILTHY MUDBLOOD!" she shrieked.
Hermione screamed through her clamped mouth as another slap echoed around her household. She struggled with all her might to undo the restraint thinking of every non-verbal spell she had ever learned. Tears slipped through her cheeks as her father's warm but terrified eyes turned to her; one was already beginning to bruise over in an ugly shade of purple.
"It's okay, darling," he gently whispered. "It's alright."
Her tears continued to spill even as he put on a brave face in front of the three Death Eaters. Bellatrix scowled and roamed about the room, flicking her wand to any unharmed portraits and settling them aflame. By the time she returned to the center, the room was already beginning to fill with a thick, ashy smoke.
"I'll make this quick," she drawled as if sounding bored. "But I'm wondering who to get rid of first…?"
Mrs. Granger suddenly whipped her legs out from under her and kicked Bellatrix with all her might. The crazed witch yelped and stumbled back, dropping her wand and temporarily caught off guard by the sudden impact to her leg. Scrambling to her feet, Mrs. Granger reached for the defenseless wand only a few feet away. The two Death Eaters snapped their attention away from the wounded witch and ran towards Hermione's mother. Stamping Mrs. Granger's hand as she picked up the curved wand, one yanked her by the hair and slammed her into the far wall. Even as she clawed at the hand holding her by the throat, she gasped for any air that she could. A hard strike blew across her face sending a trickle of shimmering blood from the crimson and puffy opening of her lip.
Hermione screamed and tried to escape with every ounce of strength she had as one pulled their wand from inside their dark cloaks and pointed it to the chest of her mother. Mrs. Granger's screams pierced through the deranged cackles of Bellatrix and pleas of Mr. Granger as the Death Eater yelled, "Crucio!"
She flailed helplessly on the floor, her body contorting in terrifying ways. The blood-curdling cry from her mother accompanied by a sudden burst of green light filled Hermione with a pain she had never felt. There was no knife carving into her arm, no torture curse on herself, no enscribed words on her arm; her heart completely shattered upon hearing her father's strangled cry for her mother.
Through the blurry vision of her tears, Hermione could see the lifelessness return to Mrs. Granger's eyes, her body still and unwavering. The cold glittering of her eyes brought Hermione back to their previous meeting in the silvery mist. Squeezing her eyes to block out the gleeful laughter of Bellatrix, she sobbed through her teeth, thick tears streaming down her face. Mr. Granger continued to scream out his wife's name in anguish, choking on his own tears as they poured from his bruised and broken eyes.
Bellatrix strode over to his hunched over form and roughly pulled him up by the hair. Pointing her wand directly at his throat, she cocked her head to the side and smirked, a gleeful laugh rising to the back of her throat. "It's time you learn your place, Mudblood!"
She turned her evil, icy gaze towards Hermione who continued to try with all her might to untangle herself from the stunning charm. Bellatrix rose from the floor again, not taking her eyes off the thrashing witch in front of her but keeping her wand in the center of Mr. Granger's neck. With another snap of her fingers, Hermione suddenly felt her arm snap up from the ground. Her limbs began to stiffly move from her sprawled out position on the floor towards her shaking father.
With a bellowing cackle, Bellatrix pointed her wand towards the center of his face and screamed, "Avada Kedavra!"
"NO!"
Mr. Granger's lifeless body fell to the ground with a quiet thud. Hermione threw herself on top of him, clinging to his ripped sweater as she cried into his shoulder. Barely lifting her head, she looked into his dead, deep green eyes still twinkling with that last breath of life. She put her forehead to his and screamed in agony, the cackle of Bellatrix fading away as she walked back to the battered front door. Pushing herself away from the unwavering and dead embrace of her father, Hermione crawled to her mother on shaky arms and wrapped her arms around her neck lifting her into her arms. Smoothing back the hair from her face, Hermione placed a gentle kiss on her cheek, stray tears dripping onto Mrs. Granger's cold, pale cheeks.
Hermione wasn't sure how long she had stayed sobbing into the shirt of her mother, one arm clinging to her neck while the other tightly gripped her father. Lying between them, Hermione couldn't find her breath to stop the tears from coming. Gasping against her own hiccups and sobs, she looked about the broken room. Piano crumbled, couch shredded, and pictures aflame, she gazed out the shattered window. The harsh winds had stopped their constant shrieks and remained silent as a swirling black fog arose from behind the bare trees. Inching closer with each shaky breath she took, Hermione looked back down and tightly held onto her parents.
"Please," she pleaded to no one. "Don't let me go. Please, mum. Please... " Quiet whispers closed in around her as she once again felt the cold and dark sensation overcome her. Her parents were ripped from her grasp as the ground disappeared beneath her. Hermione yelped as the horrifying scene around her vanished into thin air leaving behind the dark cloud of smoke. Closing her eyes in fear of what she would see next, she heard the distant scream of a terrified boy.
Before she could get a glimpse of who it was that had cried out with unimaginable pain, her body met with the hard surface of dirt and earth. The silvery mist tickled her face as it fell away, slowly falling back to reveal the clearing of the meadow. Passed it she saw the vast tree line that revealed a thick forest, hills curving into one another with clear plains of weeds and wild grass, and a large cliff hanging in the distance. Her mind began to clear as her senses realized where she still was. Even the sensation of the arena brought her a better comfort than what she had just witnessed.
Willing her limbs to move from the wet grass soaking her clothes to her back, Hermione rose herself to a sitting position, wiping the last trail of stray tears running against her cheek. Her eyes felt puffy, her cheeks red with dozens of dried tear trails, and the huge lump against the back of her throat threatened to open another dam of tears. The light whimper of a terrified boy brought her back to attention as she traced her surroundings for the culprit.
Turning around, Hermione saw an extremely pale boy trembling from head to toe curled in on himself. His platinum blonde hair was tousled from its usual gentle waves to falling in front of his face, hiding his broken silver eyes.
Slowly rising from the ground, Hermione stumbled towards him until she was standing directly beside Draco. Kneeling down to his level even though he kept his head down and away from her gentle gaze, she carefully placed a hand to his shoulder and gave a light squeeze. Draco inhaled a shaky breath and looked up to her.
Hermione stared into the deep gray eyes of the one she had once called an enemy: the boy she called ferret, the boy who had called her "Mudblood", and the snobby, stuck up, Slytherin pure-blood who had tormented her all through school. Now, curled into a helpless ball before her, was the real, defenseless, and broken Draco Malfoy.
Hesitantly moving her hand from his shoulder, Hermione laid a gentle hand to his cheek and wiped away a stray tear with her thumb. He stared back up at her, his broken gaze overflowing with a sea of tears. Her hand was warm against the cool, pale skin and he tentatively leaned into her touch almost afraid she would pull away at any second. Neither said a word as she did gently retract her hand, and for a brief moment a flash of hurt crossed his face when he averted his gaze away.
Hermione caught his confusion and, out of pure reflex, wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a tight hug like she had done so many times before with Ron and Harry. Stiffening at the sudden contact, Draco held his breath when she didn't pull away but squeezed him tighter. Not sure what to do, he sat frozen for many moments, the still night faintly whispering against the distant trees. Finally giving in, he carefully leaned into her shoulder and released a shaky sigh.
"Draco," Hermione prodded quietly, her voice cracking at its lack of use. "Whatever you saw, it…it wasn't real. None of it was real. But if you need to talk - I'll be here to listen."
He didn't respond but tried to regain his steady breathing as the dam of tears broke away.
Hey y'all!
A little bit dark, but chapter 10 is out and ready for you guys! I hope you fellow readers enjoyed, and be sure to keep a look out for the upcoming update next Monday.
And as always to you lovely Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, and Slytherins, have a fantastic morning, afternoon, evening, or night!
-Summerwinds