A Simply Horrible Summer

Chapter four: Dreams and Reality

The case at Hermione's feet started to shake, as though the object inside was excited. Lucius backed quickly away and pointed his wand at the box.

"You shall now see what it truly means to fear," he said, a malicious grin spreading on his pale face. He flicked his wand and muttered, "Alohamora", his eyes never leaving Hermione's face.

The lid to the crate sprung open, but nothing happened, at first. Hermione watched the opening carefully, knowing that something was going to emerge from the darkness. Suddenly two dark figures rose from the box, both ignoring Hermione. She looked closer at them. She couldn't see the face of one of the people, but the other turned slightly and she saw his green eyes and lightning bolt scar.

"Harry," she breathed, startled. Why did he come out of the case? she wondered. Then she turned her eyes to the other, slightly taller figure. This time she caught a glimpse of the red hair and freckles that were a trademark of the Weasleys. "Ron?" she said this time, more confused than ever.

Suddenly there was a loud pop and both boys were on the ground, hands bound behind their backs and both bleeding from the head. Hermione gasped, "No!" and tried to shut her eyes, but they wouldn't close. A third, faceless figure rose out of the box and turned toward the two boys. She heard the man say, "Avada Kadavra," and both boys ceased their struggling. Hermione shouted, "NO!" tears streaming down her dirty face. The man laughed the high, merciless laugh that Hermione associated with Voldemort.

Hermione fell to her knees, her tears leaving streaks down her face and wetting her breasts. "No," she repeated, for this meant that Voldemort would have won after all. Then Hermione realized that this couldn't be real. Harry and Ron were both at the Burrow, the very place that Hermione was needed to divulge the secret of. Her tears stopped flowing and she rose once again to her feet.

"You will need more than a silly Bogart to force me to talk, idiot," Hermione said plainly to Lucius. She saw his grin drop and his face became angry.

"How dare you speak to me that way, you filthy little mudblood," he said as he ran toward her and grabbed her neck. "How dare you even think of talking to a pureblooded male like that! You should be killed for even thinking such words!" Hermione's breaths became shallower as Lucius's hands tightened. Her head began to spin as her brain lost oxygen. Then he let go. Hermione lie on the ground, regaining her breath and forcing herself not to faint.

"I will have something special planned for you tomorrow, mudblood, so get enough rest tonight." The evil glint had come back into his eyes. Hermione didn't like the look of it at all.

Back in her cell, Hermione tried to find a softer patch of cold, hard stone to sleep on, but to no avail. She sighed, lying on the floor looking at the ceiling. She immediately regretted lying on her back for the whip wounds were still fresh and bleeding a little. She rolled over onto her stomach and rested her head on her arms. That day had been difficult. First that bad feeling, then Ron's confession, her parents' mutilated bodies, being dragged off by a monster, being tortured to within an inch of her life, and last a promise for worse beatings tomorrow. Nothing else could possibly happen this day, she thought as her eyes closed. Nothing.

Hermione dreamt that night. She thought that she would be too tired to dream at all, but dream she did. At first, flashes of her parents were all that ailed her troubled mind, but soon the visions that played in her head became much worse.

The day was sunny and warm. A stripped blanket was laid in the middle of a beautiful field full of pastel-colored flowers and soft grass. A picnic was laid on the blanket with all of Hermione's friends sitting around it. Butterflies danced in the radiant sun, enjoying the warmth from it and the sweet nectar of the flowers.

Many of Hermione's friends' heads turned toward her. They beckoned her to come nearer to them, expressing without words that they wished she would enjoy the day with them. Hermione started slowly towards them, not feeling in any hurry and basking in the sun while walking. She sighed delightedly, surly there couldn't be a more perfect afternoon.

Hermione raised her face to the sun, knowing that many freckles would pop up on her cheeks and nose soon but not caring. The soft breeze teased her bushy hair and cooled her brow. She slowly turned in a soft circle, wanting her whole body to relish in the warmth. She knew she should probably get to her friends now.

She lowered her face and turned toward the picnic area, but no one was there anymore. Confused, Hermione continued to walk forward. Maybe they're waiting to scare me, she thought. She continued forward until she was almost on the blanket. Where could they possibly be hiding? she wondered as she turned a circle. Surly they wouldn't be able to hide in the trees surrounding this meadow so quickly. Maybe they've charmed themselves invisible.

Hermione decided that the trick was up and shouted, "I know you're out there somewhere. If you don't come out right now I'm going to come and find you!" Hermione turned in a circle, looking for anyone that might appear from thin air. But no one came out. Hermione, frustrated, started feeling around the blanket, but still she heard no sound of movement or whispers.

Then, she heard a twig snap on the edge of the surrounding forest. She turned toward the sound but still saw no one. She ran toward the trees, glad to have possibly found someone. She was only halfway there when a man stepped out of the bushes. At first she didn't recognize him and thought it was one of the Order members that she didn't know yet. Then his face became clear and she stopped running.

McNair the executioner was standing there in almost full Death Eater garb, only the mask was missing. Hermione was petrified by the sight. Why would a Death Eater be in her dream? Many more snaps of twigs and crunching of leaves were heard all around the edge of the field. Death Eaters were emerging from the trees, most with their masks on, ruining the sanctuary of the field. The sky grew cloudy, blocking out the sun completely until there was no more warmth to be felt, and the wind picked up, chilling Hermione and sending goose-bumps up her arms.

The butterflies and flowers had all disappeared, leaving the field bare and muddy. The picnic had also disappeared, making the field even barer than before. Hermione ran back to the center, searching for a way out. Her efforts were useless, though, as she was surrounded by Death Eaters on all sides.

The Death Eaters advanced toward her all at the same time. There seemed to be no weak spot in the whole circle. They closed in, raising their wands. Hermione frantically searched for her own wand, her only defense against people like them, but couldn't find it. She turned in a circle, looking at all of the Death Eaters individually. She knew it was useless.

All of the Death Eaters started to form the same spell on his or her lips. Hermione closed her eyes as, in slow motion, they all shouted, "Crucio!" and the green light came toward her. She knew she would never survive so many curses being aimed at her. Her death wouldn't be painless as so many other deaths by wand were. She felt the curses come nearer. The green burnt through her eye lids and her eyes watered at the light. Just as the curses started to touch her body, she screamed…

…and woke up.