- Chapter 4 -
The next time Hermione woke up, there was no one around, no sensation of previous touches, not even a smell left behind.
She was content to believe it had been nothing, that she'd cracked sometime during her long, dull sleep, that she'd imagined ever feeling anything at all, but when she sat up, she felt those longing sobs fill her chest in a way that hadn't happened since she'd woken up in the hospital without Ron two years ago.
She covered her face with her hands and tried to imagine nothing at all. She didn't want to remember the feel of Ron's hand on her face, or his lips on her skin, or the smell of his breath in the morning, because for the first time in a year and half, sobs threatened to break out of her and reduce her to nothing more than ash.
The last time that had happened, she'd wilted into one of those broken flowers you see after a fire, that hasn't quite been burned out just yet, but the minute you blow on it, flies away in a million tiny particles, never to be put back together again.
Hermione doesn't know what day it is, if she's missed Christmas, or if it's yet to come, but she knows Harry's still away or he would have been her rude awakening, instead of the insane dream she'd had who knows how long ago, but which had brought her out of her state of numbness she'd held onto for so long.
She wished the dream had never happened, because now she just feel's hollow, and when a Kneazle slinks up to her from that other place, reminding her so strongly of Crookshanks her heart wants to break, she breaks her vow of never touching anything of this other world ever again, and strokes it's fur as it purr's and rubs up against her.
She heads outside for the first time in forever, and doesn't expect to see the snow melted on the ground around her, or the flowers threatening to push up through the ground. Its spring time and Hermione is afraid, because she's never slept for that long before, and it scares her that so much time has passed.
Ron shows up in front of her, burning alive in the middle of a puddle, and Hermione breaks down in humiliating crying as a group of children passes by. Her sobs are loud and horrendous, and the children scurry away, scared but excited to spread more rumors about the crazy witch living at the edge of town.
She doesn't know what happened to her numbness, or her contentment to watch Ron die, but she scurries up from her position on the ground and turns her back on Ron for the first time since he'd died, running away from the love of her life burning alive.
She's sitting in her rocking chair again a couple of days later when they arrive. The field of Harebell flowers appears again, out of nowhere, only this time it's more fairy like than even before.
White and pink seeps in and around the flowers, masking the pale blue color with a fine pink fog that dissipates gently. She's so used to this apparition that it doesn't even faze her.
The Kneazle's arrive first, just a few here and there, the one that reminds Hermione of Crookshanks, a patchy one of to it's right, and far off at the edge of the field, a smoky one cleaning it's paws.
Then appear the bowtruckles, the red caps and hinkypunks, and even a few centaurs staring up at the sky, as if it were night time and they could see the stars.
She see's the fwooper's next, and the Griffin, the Jobberknoll's, and the Nifler's, the Nundu, and the Sphinx, and Hermione stands up, because suddenly she realizes that something must be happening. Something must be going on, because this is the first time she's seen this many magical creatures appear at once.
She's new to this world of unseen things, but she listens to her instincts here to make up for her lack of knowledge, and this is not normal.
She prays that Ron won't show up, burning alive and screaming again, because she just can't take it anymore.
Instead, Luna shows up, and it's enough to make tears come to her eyes, because once again she's touching the things that don't exist, leading a unicorn along by her fingertips. And Hermione no longer feels alone.