Italics: flashbacks/past
Non-italics: present day
It felt like many small pins were being driven repeatedly into his forehead. He slammed the palm of his hand into his skull and groaned a deep reverberating sound. Harry sat up and massaged his scar, willing it to stop bothering him. He reached for his glasses and shoved them unceremoniously onto the bridge of his nose, looking around the dark tent expecting to see the beautiful, sleeping form of Hermione Granger.
Her bed sheets were crumpled as if they had already been used, her cloak was missing from where she had placed it the night before, her wand was gone. Harry's eyes travelled to her beaded bag which sat tauntingly on the table, sparkling up at him invitingly. He stood quickly and pulled on his black coat shoving his shoes on in the process. Grabbing the beaded bag he ran from the tent, flicking his wand so the tent shrunk and flew into his hand.
The cold bit into his skin, angrily sucking the warmth from his body, he began to shake, out of fear or the cold he was not sure. He saw tracks in the snow, small foot prints leading away from their camp sight. The trees creaked and birds squawked in warning down to him. The night was alive with movement and sound, Harry was trying in vain to distinguish between harmless animals and possible threats. It was then that he came across it, a small clearing in which three other sets of foot prints lay, carved into the snow like an omen of death.
A wand, delicate and pristine, much like its owner lay abandoned in the snow, he reached down and picked it up, his eyes falling upon the scarlet that stained the white forest floor. His hands shook as he saw the blood that covered his flesh.
"Hermione." His breath escaped his lungs in a strangled cry. He fell to his knees, feeling the snow melt through the thin material of his trousers. Harry cradled the wand like it was his life force, he stroked it smooth surface gently and swallowed when a tear ran down his cheek.
He felt a presence behind him, it was warm and comforting, but Harry knew better than to mistake it for something good. He turned violently on the spot, wand raised in defence, despite his precarious position on the floor. The phoenix inclined its head to him and Harry felt anger course through him, like a violent flood it consumed his entire being until his mind grew dark and blood pounded in his ears.
The bird merely stared at him, its black eyes unwavering, Harry growled as it made its way towards him, offering its leg for him to take. Harry reached up and drew his hood over his face, before placing a cautious hand on the bird and feeling the cool air immediately rush past him, but his body slowly became numb, the thought of what they were doing to her. An image of a cloaked figure hovering dangerously over Hermione flickered within his mind, is that what Voldemort is going to do? Just like my dreams? Are the dreams from him? The amount of questions he had only seemed to increase in ferocity and quantity as his gaze fell upon the tall, looming sight of the place he once called home, a place he realised, was only home with her.
Fawkes flew his limp body through the cover of darkness, the pale moonlight barely making its presence known through the thick fog which was the sky. Harry felt his feet land softly on the stone of the darkened entrance hall, a tall looming figure stood ahead, their face cast in shadow as they made their way towards him. Harry's hood was still drawn down to cover his face, but the figure seemed to recognise him either way.
"Harry Potter, it has been too l-" Dumbledore faltered as his face was bathed in the modest light emitting from the candles. "But where is Miss Granger?" Albus seemed to be looking around himself in a desperate search for the young woman. "Where is Hermione?" he asked harshly as his gaze fell upon Harry whom bowed his head to look away from the accusatory gaze that was shining from the headmasters usually twinkling blue eyes.
"She's been taken, by death eaters… I found her w-wand." Harry hated the fact that his voice had begun to falter, his emotions building up to an immeasurable peak which he had no hope of overcoming. He withdrew her bloody wand from his pocket and Dumbledore snatched it from his fingertips, bringing the delicately carved wood to the tip of his nose, examining it carefully. Once that final piece of Hermione was taken from him, Harry felt an immeasurable sense of hopelessness overcome his entire being. Harry's gaze wandered to another tall figure, a woman who appeared to be gliding effortlessly toward him. Amelia Bones looked stern as ever and she glanced over her shoulder nodding to another stern woman, Harry's ex transfiguration Professor.
Both women flanked Dumbledore and stared at the wand in his hands then all three powerful gazes turned to him and he felt his control waver under the piercing look in their eyes. Minerva stepped forward and engulfed him in a tight embrace, a motherly embrace, similar to the Weasley matriarchs but where Molly's embrace imparted warmth and happiness, Minerva McGonagall's transferred courage and strength, in which Harry knew he would forever be indebt for.
"We must act quickly sir, we have to find her… they will hurt her and-" Harry turned swiftly when a silver otter crashed through the front doors. Harry stared at Hermione's patronus, waiting for the message, but the silvery being was silent whilst it slowly circled his head and then disappeared.
"Wandless magic." Amelia murmured and watched as Harry sprinted from the entrance hall and down into the snow covered grounds. The thick white softness impaired his movement and he growled pulling out his wand and waving it around his head in a violent action watching as the snow melted as if struck by fire. Harry felt his chest tighten as he saw it, a green symbol sparkling in the dark gray sky.
The dark mark burned overhead as Harry ran, feeling that with every step he was slowly bringing himself closer to the end, closer to a dead Hermione Granger.
The front gates were covered in overgrown vines and it took a moment for Harry to see the back of a figure, a figure that appeared to have been crucified on the very iron gateway that protected the school. On the very entrance, that leads to a place Harry once deemed the safest in the world.
***
Hermione watched as Bellatrix laughed, a sound full of mirth, the maniacal quality which made her shiver. She felt Voldemort's gnarled hand splay out onto her stomach, his fingers coming dangerously close to her breasts. She clamped her eyes shut as his snake like tongue licked her neck, a deep hissing sound reverberating from within his throat. Hermione felt a very violent tug of apparition as they turned on the spot and she found herself in a dank room, the heavy, pungent smell of earth and dirty water reached her nostrils and she grimaced. The rocky cavern had a cathedral high ceiling with stalactites dripping cool water onto the many hooded creatures who dare enter its sanctuary. Hermione bit her lip and felt a high pitch cackle of laughter hit her eardrums with surprising force.
He ran his hands up the curve of her hips and to her breasts where he cupped them roughly laughter emitting from his supporters when she whimpered in pain. "Do not fear, my little mudblood, I wont kill you yet… not tonight anyway." He hissed playfully in her ear and Hermione felt her body shiver involuntarily. His nose, or should she say the two slits glided up the side of her delicate cheek, inhaling her scent. "I wish to taste much more of you before your death." She turned her head in disgust as he once more tasted her skin.
"For now though… crucio!"
Hermione didn't care what the man had said, she was sure she would die, the pain was unbearable as her mouth opened in a silent scream of agony.
***
Hermione nervously traced the delicate scar on her neck when she thought back to that day, it was one of the memories that still haunted her, Voldemort's infatuation with her had terrified her and enraged Harry, the dreams, were of Voldemort's creations, his fantasies. Hermione downed her glass of blood red wine and took a deep breath which she hoped would calm her in some way.
Hermione moved towards her fireplace and closing her eyes let the floo powder glide graciously through her hands and to her feet. The colour of the green flames burned through her closed lids as she clearly stated her destination.
It looked, very much the same as when she had last ventured into its white depths. Hermione felt memories encompass her and she frowned, memories that will always haunt me. Hermione watched the elderly nurse fuss over what appeared to be a first year boy with mousy hair and brown eyes, his nose bleeding profusely.
"And where did you put the other half of the bean? Did you not read the label, I mean I will talk to those Weasley's about clear warning labels, so help me I will-" Poppy broke off when the boy jumped to his feet, nose bleed having ceased and ran from the room quickly. Hermione felt a small smile tug at the corners of her mouth when she saw the matron continue to bustle around, placing potions in there correct positions, straightening bed sheets.
When her eyes fell upon Hermione she gasped in shock, having not realised the former student's presence. "Hermione Granger?" The woman squeaked with wide eyes and Hermione nodded and felt herself engulfed in a tight embrace, the woman sobbing into her travelling cloak.
"Hello Poppy." Hermione said in way of a greeting and the older woman immediately disentangled her arms from around Hermione. Poppy seemed to examine her face critically before turning to indicate the person in which Hermione wished to see. Hermione nodded in thanks and moved toward the screen encompassed bed.
She noticed that the infirmary was basically unoccupied so she removed all of the screens except the one which faced the door. Hermione felt tears begin to build up, her vision becoming blurry as she met the gaze of her mentor, her rock.
The elderly, once stern, now dazed Minerva McGonagall.
AN okay.. few reviews gives me little incentive to update quickly..
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