A/n own nothing but the plot, um guys i know it miight not be all that (this story) but some reveiw would help boost some esteam!
Hermione awoke with a start the next morning; a cold sweat coated her body as she untangled herself from the bed sheets. Sleep didn't seem to ease Hermione in the least. Screams of terror still rung freshly through her ears, as did the horrible images that played through her mind. Looking at her nightstand, neon green letters read boldly '8:13 a.m.' With an exhausted sigh, Hermione got up and gathered some clothing to ware for the day, along with her wand. Grabbing a towel from the closet, Hermione took everything with her into a room three doors down.
She opened a door to her right that reveled a room of black marble floors, and matching bathtub and shower. The room was decorated in a gothic air; a phase that her mother never got rid of that also seemed to run in her daughters taste as well. Before anything, Hermione put a silencing charm around the room to make sure that she would not wake anyone up.
It was an eternity before the bathroom door opened; Hermione emerged with swollen eyes, and dressed in black from head to toe. Her hair hung around her face, still drying from the hour-long bath. She walked to a room on the other end of the hall, still trying desperately not to cry. Behind the next door that she opened, was Mr. and Mrs. Granger's bedroom. It was a room of natural and relaxing colors of lavender, pale brown and hazel.
It's amazing how life can be given and taken away so quickly, in the blink of an eye. One moment everything can be perfectly fine, the way things are supposed to be, meant to be and in the next, the world is upside down and will never, could never be the same.
Life and death.
Death and life.
One must exist while the other must follow after. Either you're alive or dead, but some can feel both at the same time. Hermione was living on the outside, seeing things, going through things but in the inside, everything was cold and numb. She hugged herself trying to keep away the imaginary cold that was drifting through her black, long-sleeved turtleneck and black jeans. Shutting the door behind her, Hermione began to run her fingertips along the many trinkets that once belonged to her parents but now belonged to her and her alone. She just wanted to savior their presence in the room a little bit longer, before it disappeared forever. She picked up a picture frame, the picture inside was taking of them while on vacation in New Zealand.
Hermione began to sniffle and cry as she sat on the edge of the bed holding the frame to her chest in a death grip.
Hermione tried to stop crying, but she could only reduce herself to mere whimpers. She silently made a vow to herself to learn to control her emotions and to hide everything from everyone no matter the cost, but it was just too hard.
A knock at the door finally caused Hermione to stop crying completely, soon Minerva's voice rang softy, "Hermione dear, are you alright in there?"
Hermione made no reply, but swiftly got up and strode to open the door. She quickly wiped away the tears that stained her face as she flung the door open. Minerva seemed to be satisfied by this in some way, so she nodded and then turned on her heel as she glided towards the opened bathroom door.
Hermione made her way down to the back staircase that led down into the kitchen. Winky had come straight up to her, when the house elf saw her come down the stairs. She quickly went to her asking if the girl wanted some tea, and the only reply the freed house elf got was a head nodd. Hermione took no notice to her surroundings, and went straight to a cupboard and began rummaging around, looking for something in particular.
Severus watched from his seat at the breakfast table with interest, as she looked furiously for something. He watched her take out a clear glass bottle half filled with a cleared liquid substance. With even more interest, he watched as she unscrewed the cap and took a fast swig. Winky had already set the steaming hot tea onto the breakfast table across from where he was seated and went back to cooking breakfast that was on the other side of the manor room. Hermione shut the cupboard door and turned around to walk towards the table with the bottle in hand. Hermione looked up and her shocked gaze met Severus' gaze. A gasp escaped her lips as the bottle slipped out of her grasp and shattered on the ground.
Hermione's gaze instantly left Severus and she quickly bent down to clean up the broken and wet mess. "Ow!" she cried softly, In the middle of her left palm was a large shard of glass deeply cut into her hand. Blood started to emerge from the wound; it hurt so much that she couldn't even think about touching it.
The sound of a chair scrapping across the marble floor was heard and within a few strides Severus was before her. He gently cradled her small wounded hand in is big ones, examining the damage that was done from the piece of glass. He squeezed her wrist unintentionally hard, which resulted in Hermione jerking it towards her chest shielding it like a wounded animal. Severus sneered at her before roughly snatching her hand back holding it for further inspection. Yet again Hermione jerked it back, which resulted in a spark of more pain as she clenched her teeth to keep from crying out in pain.
"Fine! Take care of it yourself, you stupid girl!" He growled. The mess was cleaned up before he sat back down and resumed drinking his coffee. Meanwhile, Hermione tried removing the shared from her palm, but it was proving more difficult then she thought before. It seemed to be going even deeper into the wound then coming out. Hermione was never one to beg for help but it hurt too much and her tears blinded her, making it harder to grab her wand from her back pocket.
"Professor, Please?" She whispered trying to not cry out in any further pain. Severus sighed as he got up from the table again and walked over to cradle her injured hand with in his own. Hermione watched while she chewed on her bottom lip nervously, as she watched him examine the wound. The tips of Severus' hair lightly brushed against her fingertips as he bent more closely trying to decide how deep the cut was. He squeezed her wrist tightly again, this time Hermione only winced in pain, then with one swift movement he removed the glass and placed it atop the counter as he removed his wand from his jean pocket and began healing her deeply cut wound.
"You will do better to not resort to drinking no matter what the tragedy is, Miss Granger." Severus sneered at her then went to seat himself at the table. She shook her head violently in agreement as she feverously wiped away the tears spilling down her face. After a few moments of standing in the middle of the kitchen composing herself, Hermione sat across the table from him silently, concentration on the black mug with a curling steam rising up.
Severus sipped at his black coffee as he stared at her trying to name each emotion; he knew he didn't have to. He knew exactly what it was like, to see your mother raped before your eyes, to see his father beaten to death and tortured for hours on end. The worst part was it wasn't the Death Eaters who did this to his family, it was the Dark Lord himself.