Journey to You
Chapter 5: Nightmares
"Ten hours?!" Ron exclaimed. "You're barking!"
"I'm not keen on this flight either, but we can't afford to stop in the middle." Hermione paid for their tickets and walked away, Ron at her heels. "I don't want to waste any more time than we have already."
"But we didn't waste any time," he huffed. "We had tea with Krum and slept in his wonderfully decorated guest house."
That last bit was a bit of an exaggeration. As a matter of fact, they didn't sleep much at all last night. The pair talked for hours about everything: Harry, Krum, the war, his family, her family, each other… Hermione had been afraid that it might not have been the right time, but in hindsight, she should have talked to him sooner. She shouldn't have been so nervous, knowing now that he, too, had been nervous. If it was possible, their perspectives about one another had changed. With all of their feelings for each other out in the open, it was easy to focus on the mission.
Hermione stopped at a flight times board that read "Beijing – 8:15 am" and sighed of relief. She and Ron sat down facing the huge window exposing the runway. She was surprised Ron willingly got up before she did, and packed what little they had unpacked. So, she expected him to slouch into his seat and fall asleep immediately.
She hid her blushed face with her hair when he did just that and unashamedly put an arm around her shoulder, bringing her closer to him. She froze only for a few seconds, and she tried a glance up at the dozing red head. The sight of him made her smile.
"Just think," she suggested quietly. "You'll be able to sleep for ten hours."
He opened his eyes to look down at her, eyebrow raised. "That's if the bloody thing doesn't get tired and plummets to the ground…"
She chuckled. "You're telling me that you wouldn't try to levitate the plane to safety?"
"Oh, I would," he nodded. "But not for ten bloody hours."
She leaned into him some more and scooped her feet up onto the seat. "Everything will be fine."
They looked out at the early morning horizon, orange and pink highlighting the sky. Hermione prayed, as she allowed her eyes to close, that her parents were alive to see this beautiful sky…
"Hey," Ron shook Hermione awake. "I think we're about to board."
Has it been an hour already? It felt like she had just closed her eyes. Nevertheless, they boarded the plane and placed their luggage in the compartment above them. Ron allowed Hermione to take the window seat, as he was still anxious about being on the ends. He resorted to the middle again, okay with whoever ended up sitting next to him.
He regulated his breathing as Hermione held his hand. "Everything is fine."
"Yeah," he nodded quickly, shaking slightly. "Yeah. We're fine." He closed his eyes. "Remind me again why we're not Apparating?"
"Any magic is too risky still. Neither of us have been to China, so it's not like we can just wing it."
He nodded again. "Right."
A stout man sat down next to Ron. He did not speak English, but he was speaking very fast to himself it seemed. Ron leaned to Hermione and whispered, "Who is he talking to?"
She looked over at the man and replied back. "He's using a cellphone."
"A phone? In the sky?" Ron scrunched his face. "Don't you need a wire for that?"
Hermione smiled at him serenely, thinking of how adorable he was when he wanted to learn more about her culture. "Not anymore. It's a fairly new concept. They're mobile telephones. You can just carry one with you wherever you go, so you're able to contact anyone from anywhere."
Impressed, Ron commented, "For not having any magic, Muggles are really innovative."
A half hour later and they were ascending high above the clouds. They never let go of the other's hand until a flight attendant came by with complimentary drinks.
"Oh, thank Merlin!" Ron mumbled. "I need one of those."
He handed one to Hermione and sniffed his own. "Wow, that's strong."
"Come on," Hermione chided. "If you knock it back, it should be fine."
"And what do you know about drinks like this?"
She sat up straight, and examined the liquid closely. She swirled it slightly, smelled it, and took a small sip. "The aftertaste has a bite to it," she said, wincing. "But warm going down. I'm going to say, it's a brandy."
Ron looked at her, completely dumbfounded.
"What?" she said, embarrassed.
"Hermione Granger," he smiled at her cheekily. "You are the most phenomenal bird I have ever met."
In response, she held up her drink. "To new beginnings."
"To finding you family," he added.
And with that, they snapped back the brandy in one go. It did not sting like Firewhiskey, but it was warm and inviting. The giddiness of liquid courage, Hermione put her head in the crook of Ron's neck. They watched a black and white film from above them. It was terrible quality and they didn't care to hook up their head sets. They enjoyed the comfort of the movie, of being suspended in the air, of each other…
It was dark. The only light was coming from a fireplace a few feet away. Hermione didn't like this place. She thought of going back, but she was afraid that someone was behind her. Someone evil. She stood very still, listening for any sign of friendliness. The crackling of the fire seemed inviting enough. Was she back at the Burrow?
She thought inexplicably of Ron, and felt better. The fire got bigger, exposing more of her surroundings. Pictures of distorted faces plastered the walls. They were laughing at her. She didn't like it. No matter how much she wanted to be by the fire, she knew it would somehow lead to death. She didn't want to die.
She had to find her parents.
"Pssssst!" She jumped at the sudden noise from behind her. She knew someone was there!
A pale woman with crazy black hair, gave a low, menacing chuckle. The woman walked forward, backing Hermione closer to the fire.
"Are you lost, sweetie?" she cooed, sending shivers down Hermione's spine. The woman pointed her wand at her. "I can help you."
"No," Hermione said. "No, please. I just want to go home." She felt the warmth of the fire fade, even though she was just inches away now.
The woman's eyes widened, and her lips curled into a crazed smile. "You don't deserve a home. You are filth. He will never love you. You deserve to die. Just like your Mummy and Daddy."
The woman forced Hermione to turn around violently. Horrified, she saw her parents' bodies burned to ashes. She backed into the woman, who grabbed her forearm.
"NO!" Hermione pleaded, as the woman laughed manically and forced Hermione's forearm into the fire.
"You failed!" the woman cackled. "No one can save you now!"
"Hermione…" came a familiar, hoarse voice from far away. "Hermione… Hermione…"
"Hermione!" Ron said, shaking her awake.
Heart pounding and sweat on her forehead, her eyes flew open to Ron's concerned face in front of her. She pushed him away and looked around. The portly man next Ron stopped talking into his phone to scrutinize the couple. Hermione shrugged off her embarrassment. "What?"
"Are you okay?"
If she was anywhere else, she would tell him. But there were so many people staring now. She sunk in her seat, still shaking.
Ron stood up and shouted at the flight attendant. "Oi! We need another brandy over here."
The flight attendant, who didn't enjoy being yelled for, took her good old time walking over with their drinks. In the meantime, Ron tried to make Hermione comfortable, shoving pillows behind her head and pushing the hair from off of her sweaty forehead.
"Ron, stop!" Hermione said, shielding herself from his help. "I'm fine."
"You don't have to tell me what happened, but I need you to drink." He shoved one of the cups in front of her, and waited expectantly.
Realizing that he would not except no for an answer, she sipped on the drink.
The flight attendant cleared her throat.
"We're fine now," Ron shooed her away, which made Hermione roll her eyes and give a tired smile. She reached into her bag and gave the flight attendant some money.
Ron slumped to be level with Hermione, both holding onto their drinks.
"What time is it?" she asked, sipping at her drink.
He looked at his magical watch. "It's been about 7 hours." He was impressed. "Time does fly when you're flying."
She nodded. There was a bit of silence, in which Hermione calmed herself down. She tugged at her sleeve where Bellatrix had scarred her. She hated not being able to sleep consistently. She hated these nightmares because she wasn't scared of them in her waking life. Bellatrix's face was always so clear yet shadowed in her dreams, anyone else would be too scared to sleep again. But Hermione knew she needed to see her dreams through. It was the only way to get over them.
"Wonder how everyone's doing back home," said Ron, breaking the silence. He gulped his drink and scrunched his face at the punch of it. "I bet George could drink stronger stuff."
"I don't think that's a good thing," Hermione commented wearily.
"Don't worry. Ginny and Angelina seemed to have him under control." He took another sip. "I hope Harry's not pulling Ginny along though."
Hermione raised her eyebrow. "I don't think Harry has time to be at the Burrow. I heard Auror training is really extensive."
Ron slumped. "I should have signed up."
"You did the right thing," she consoled him, patting his knee. "Finishing your N.E.W.T.s is always a smart move."
"But I'm not going back. I want to help George with the shop."
Hermione scoffed. "But, why not spend your time wisely and finish up school?"
"Because you know how much I loved school," said Ron sarcastically. He downed the rest of his drink while Hermione grilled him with the benefits of going back to Hogwarts. Of course, he had thought about it, but his family meant more to him than education. And he's got enough experience in the real world that would be equivalent to ten years at Hogwarts.
Eventually, Ron begrudgingly agreed to at least consider going back, just to get her to stop going on about it.
She knew that he didn't mean it, but she dropped it anyway. She sat there, drinking the warm alcohol, disappointed. Secretly, she fantasized about being with Ron at Hogwarts. She wanted to have study dates, mindless walks in Hogsmeade, maybe a snog or two after he assisted in a Gryffindor win from the latest Quidditch game. But that was just all in her head.
There was a staleness in the air when they finally landed in Beijing, like they were back to not explaining how they felt. That, along with just getting off of a ten-hour flight, exhausted them.
"Sydney, Australia… Sydney, Australia…" Hermione whispered, scanning the flight board above. This board was a lot bigger and switching faster than the one in London and Munich, making it difficult to read.
Sensing Hermione's stress, Ron put a hand on her shoulder and suggested, "Why don't we wait until tomorrow?"
She continued searching the whirling flight times. "I can find it."
"I don't doubt it," he said, gently guiding her away from the bustling crowds coming every which way. "It's late. We could do with some real sleep."
She slumped as they turned a corner, furrowing her brow in deep thought. Sometimes she just couldn't shut off her brain, especially when there was so much at stake. "If we find somewhere tonight, we have to be out of here really early. It'll be about eleven hours this time."
Ron went stiff and imagined sitting in the same spot, suspended in the air with a Muggle contraption for eleven hours. "Can't we just Apparate?" he chuckled nervously.
"I told you, we'd need to have had been there before to Apparate. We'd need a good vantage point."
Suddenly, Ron stopped in his tracks, and Hermione turned around to see his face light up. "What about a Portkey?"
"A Portkey?"
"Yeah!" He strode over to her, grasping onto her upper arms. "The Magical Embassy should be here somewhere. Maybe we can tell them where we need to go. We're practically royalty! They'd have to do it."
"Ron…" she looked weary, but he was simply beaming.
"We're close enough now too! They could just send an owl to Australia to set it up."
Hermione thought about it thoroughly. Ron wasn't wrong: they were at a decent vantage point for a Portkey to reach Australia. "We'd risk being incognito..."
"Screw incognito! These are your parents we're talking about," he said seriously. "The sooner we get to them, the better."
It took all of her strength not to kiss him like she did a month ago. So, she sufficed with a hug, and he reciprocated with nervous laughter and a squeeze.
When they broke apart, she sighed, relieving some stress. "Let's go find the Embassy."
Thankfully, Hermione brought some of her books on International Magical Communications. The Chinese Magical Embassy was located in Bejing, not too far away from the airport.
On their way there, Hermione was overwhelmed by the architecture and culture in China. Yes, she was there for a purpose, but she couldn't help but want to explore the world after this was all over. She has been to different countries before, but there is so much more to discover. So much, still, to understand.
Ron saw the wonder and awe in her eyes; he was both amazed by and scared of it. What if she left him for bigger and better things one day? After all, he was a simple man deep down. That couldn't be all Hermione wanted.
It didn't take long to register a Portkey, especially since the witches and wizards there seemed to know who they were. Word about Voldemort's downfall traveled fast around the world, and everybody knew what the Chosen One and his friends looked like. This was what Hermione feared; she didn't want people knowing who they were, afraid that any Voldemort supporter would find and kill them. But Ron's touch reassured her as they held hands through the Wizarding World in Beijing.
They found a nice hotel room atop a noodle house in the city. They had to admit, they did feel quite at home in the Wizarding World again.
They took a Dreamless Sleep before bed, but the affects were futile.
Ron struggled with the explosions from the final battle, his brother's dead body still fresh in his mind. In the midst of his dream, he heard Hermione screaming. He couldn't find her, which scared him immensely. He woke up to Hermione actually whimpering for help in her sleep.
Ron quickly got up and shook Hermione awake. She opened her eyes, terrified and crying, grabbing her forearm. She buried her head into his chest as he held her tight.
"S'over, 'Mione," he muffled in her hair. "She's dead."
"I know…" She had a little taste of what Harry had to deal with, and it was terrible. She didn't care that she was branded as a Mudblood; it was the terrible acts that Bellatrix performed on her that she remembered. She could do with never experiencing that pain and torture ever again.
Once Hermione's shaking sobs dissolved into sniffles, Ron released his grip. But, Hermione reached out. "Please stay," she whispered. She scooted over, leaving room for Ron.
Blushing slightly, Ron moved more on the bed. He didn't get under the covers, feeling a bit awkward to be invading her space. He tensed slightly when she cuddled up against him. She let out a content exhale. He smiled, stoking her hair, finally falling asleep without a terrible nightmare awaiting them.