A Different World
A Harry Potter Fan Fiction
Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended and no profit is being made from this story. All rights reserved to J.K. Rowling, author of the Harry Potter series.
Chapter One
"Kill me," I pleaded with the dark-haired witch in front of me. "Kill me now."
The witch stopped pacing the length of the room and she let out a spine-chilling laugh as she took a few steps toward me. She brandished her wand as though it were a sword and pointed the tip of said wand at the centre of my forehead, all the while still cackling.
And I, Hermione Jean Granger, a war hero, couldn't care less. My own wand was a few metres away from where I was but I never even tried to make a move to retrieve it.
Because I wanted to die. I wanted her to kill me.
I was never the suicidal type but that wasn't the case now. I wanted to die, and die I will as soon as the mad witch ceased her dramatics and got the deed done.
I eyed my wand once again, now contemplating the idea of recovering it and using it to take my life. But before I could make a decision, the hag stopped expressing her amusement with the situation on hand and addressed me.
"Well, well... That is a wish that I do not find difficult to grant, Great Hermione Granger." She laid her palm across my right cheek and patted it twice. "Any special request on the way you want to be sent off, you know-it-all?"
My resigned gaze connected with my captor's malicious ones. "Just kill me," I repeated, my tone flat. Be done with it already.
I wasn't scared of my impending death. I felt nothing because even though I was still breathing and was technically still alive, on the inside, I had already been killed. A curse from her would only serve to finally make me dead in every sense of the word.
The devil's spawn laughed long and maniacally. "I will, but I'd like to enjoy first. It's not every day that I get the chance to hurt the great Hermione Granger." She trained her wand at me. "Crucio!"
Excruciating pain engulfed my corporal body as I sat on a wooden chair. I was sure that I would have slumped to the floor had there been no magical ropes binding me to the seat. Still, it was nothing compared to what happened some thirty minutes ago.
Half an hour ago, I had been tortured hundreds of times and had been killed a thousand, though not physically.
I remembered that I was screaming as Bellatrix Lestrange used the Cruciatus Curse on me years ago, but now, it was just a pinch compared to what I had been through earlier.
She tortured me some more, and I certainly did not give her the pleasure of hearing my cries. My silence only served to rile the witch up. "Scream, bitch!" She slapped me and my head turned sideways. Her effort was in vain as I only looked at her straight in the eyes, wordlessly giving her the message that I felt nothing. I felt nothing.
She screamed in frustration and slapped me one more time. "Fine, you spoilsport! I'll grant you your wish!"
At long last.
I bowed my head, closed my eyes and waited for the Killing Curse to hit me. I took a deep breath as I welcomed death like it was an old friend.
"Avada – "
As she was uttering the words to the curse, I heard the door of the dingy room slam open and a deep, masculine voice rang out.
"Avada Kedavra!"
No curse hit me. Instead, I heard a thud. I had to admit, I was terribly, terribly disappointed.
I opened my eyes slowly. What I saw first was Astoria Greengrass' dead body lying by my feet, her eyes wide open and a grin was still affixed to her lifeless lips.
When I raised my head, I saw that wizards – specifically, aurors – were already entering the room. I caught sight of Harry and Ron rushing towards me. Had that been any other time, I would have been filled with gladness upon seeing my two best friends.
But this was no other time. This was not a time to be happy.
Harry muttered a counter spell, unbinding me from the chair. He hauled me to my feet and both wizards enveloped me with their embrace.
"Thank Merlin you're alive, Hermione," Harry whispered to me.
"Are you alright, 'Mione?" This came from Ron.
I freed myself from Harry and Ron's arms and stared at them blankly. Harry gave the redhead an exasperated look, which Ron took as a cue to start saying, "I-I'm so sorry, Hermione. We rushed to your aid as fast as we could but I guess we weren't wasn't fast enough. We're sorry."
Standing still and not minding Harry and Ron, I took in the scene taking place at the far left corner of the room.
I watched as the man who brought many complications into my life – the man who represented the biggest mistake of my entire existence – knelt down beside the girl who brought sunshine into my otherwise gloomy days.
She was my greatest joy. She was the reason why I get up every single morning. I needed her like I needed air to breathe, only more.
I stood still as I watched Draco Malfoy slowly holding her unmoving body close to him. Metres away, I could still see that Malfoy was trying to rein in his emotions. But it was a lost cause. His face filled with anguish; he stroked her hair and hugged her tightly. Blond hair mingled with blond hair as he buried his face in the crook of her neck, his eyes were pressed shut and he was muttering words to the girl, words that I could not hear.
I took several steps toward the man and the girl but I didn't come too close. I couldn't come too close.
Why?
Because I was frightened.
Going near them scared me more than the threat to my life did.
Hugging myself, I stood a few metres away from them. That was when I realized that I wasn't dead, after all. The pain from more than a half hour hit me in full force and it defeated my resolve to block the dreadful feeling from attacking me. If I were dead, I wouldn't have felt the mind-numbing ache penetrating every inch of my body, piercing my heart and breaking my soul.
Malfoy turned his head in my direction and our stares met. He held my gaze for a long time and I saw my own grief being reflected in his stormy grey eyes. Then he gave me a small nod and brought his attention back to the blond child.
The dam broke. Abundant tears streamed down my cheeks and I bit my lip to stifle the scream that was attempting to escape my lips but I was unsuccessful. The next sound I heard was a sorrowful wail coming from myself, making everyone stop whatever they were doing and throw me a pitying glance.
"Hermione!" My best friends were instantly behind me, supporting me as my knees started to buckle. "Hermione!"
I swatted their hands away; tears continued to stain my cheeks as I sat on the floor and wallowed in my misery. I shouted her name. I cursed dead Astoria. I punched Ron who was just trying to comfort me. I let out all my anger; I did everything to alleviate the persistent grief that was, bit by bit, consuming my whole being.
I caught a glimpse of my wand again and I made a move to recover it. Ron correctly guessed what I was trying to do and accio'd the wand. "Oh no, no, no... You're not going to do it, Hermione," he stated rather forcefully.
Angrily, I shouted at him. He simply settled beside me, thwarting my attempts at getting my wand back. Recognizing the fact that Ron would not relent, I turned to Harry. "Kill me!" I screamed at the raven-haired wizard, wanting him to continue the task Astoria had not finished. It was the only way. I could not take the pain any longer. "Harry, Harry. Please, Harry. Kill me," looking up at him, I pleaded desperately. He knelt beside me and cupped my face in between his palms, his green eyes abundant with sympathy for me.
"Everything will be fine, Hermione. I promise. Ron and I promise."
Of course, he was lying. Everything will not be fine. It never will be. I had lost something, and it was something I could never replace, no matter how much I wanted to find a replacement for it.
I just lost something wonderful – someone wonderful – in my life and now, I was lost.
In the corner, Malfoy was still silently cradling the little girl, refusing to budge from his position even when an auror asked him to let go.
While I had been loud, Malfoy had been quiet.
In two completely different ways, we mourned the loss of our four-year old daughter, Elizabeth Rose Granger.
