Darkness had taken over. Finally. It was about time.
Heavy eyes and long silent nights did this to a person. The more tossing and turning, the less darkness. Sometimes more darkness isn't such a bad thing. Regarding sleep of course.
The sun was shining, for once. Turning to her boyfriend, she placed her hands across his chest, warm and soft. He smiled back at her, his emerald eyes only just open at the sight of her face. Waking up next to Ron is the start of a good day.
Hermione loved Sundays. Family day. A day where no matter what Arthur and Molly would host a family meal with games and laughter. Most importantly no loneliness or silence and a chance to enjoy time with friends, something of rarity these days.
It was no surprise that the food Molly had served was like no other, she was the best cook in the family for generations now. Even without the use of magic Molly never failed to impress everyone. Piles of roasted potatoes, endless amounts of boiled and buttered vegetables, fluffy Yorkshire puddings, the finest gravy anyone had ever had the privilege of tasting and the juiciest, ripest turkey known to man full of delicious stuffing.
Everyone undoubtedly left the table full to the brim of wonderfully cooked food with a great smile across their faces.
"Thank you Mrs Weasley, that was delicious!" Said a grateful Hermione as she joined her boyfriend on the sofa. Molly looked back at her with a gleaming grin. Hermione had become like a second daughter to her, in fact the young witch saw Molly more than her actual parents. Her and Ron did go to see them after the war, all the way to Australia in an attempt to restore their memories. It was successful and yet the distance between made the relationship with her parents very thin.
"Wasn't it just!" Exclaimed Arthur, giving his wife a kiss on her cheek before retiring to the sofa also.
"It's not just me to thank!" Replied Mrs Weasley with an encouraging jog over to her son, "George has been at it all day slaving in the kitchen, maybe that shop of yours 'ought to become a restaurant 'eh? I'm sure we could all chip in, even Ron could help with the washing up." Everyone let out a chuckle, except for Ron of course who gave his mother the 'please stop I'm embarrassed' look, even still at the age of 22 he hadn't grown out of it.
George let out a small giggle at his mothers comment, back when he was at Hogwarts that would've been him making the jokes. Now every time he made a joke all he could think about was how his brother would've reacted. Not Ron though, Fred, his other half. So he rarely made any, but when he did the family all encouraged him through positive laughter and recognition. It was the small moments that gave George the motivation each day.
"So what board game will it be today then!" Shouted Arthur excitedly, "Hermione, what muggle invention have you brought this time! They are clever people, the rules always exact with clear instructions."
"Its a bit of an odd one this week, not usual to an ordinary witch or wizard, but easily understood of course." Replied Hermione reaching into her extendable bag, the same bag she took around with her everywhere. It had proved very useful in the past, why change now. Ever since Voldemort's reign she took no chances at carrying the essentials with her. She always was the organised one.
"Twister!" Explained Ginny, rather curious by the name. It had been a family tradition for a while now to play muggle games after a Sunday meal. Hermione had been clearing out her old room, it had become like a second home to her and Ron ever since her parents left. She did hope to go and visit them again, but she knew it would only bring back memories of her past she vowed never to let trouble her, of course this happened anyway. At least she could live without the thought of them being tortured or even killed for information. Oh how she could be so wrong.
"Oh bloody hell." Said Ron aloud followed by a stare from Hermione.
"Ronald isn't so keen on this game," replied Hermione with a smirk, "The last time we played this he got himself in a knot and fell flat on his face, making up excuses for the rest of the evening!"
"It was the slippy floor." Said Ron in denial.
"It's played on a mat Ronald!" Hermione couldn't stop herself from giggling at this point, neither could the rest of the family. Both Ron's failed excuses and Hermione witty comebacks cause quite the amusement for the family each week. It was like the pair were made for each other.
"So, how do we play?" Said George eagerly, he had wandered from the kitchen over to the lounge. Molly looked over the moon to see her son engaged in a fun game, it was a rare occurrence these days.
Hermione explained everything to the family as they all participated in a extremely competitive and thrilling game of twister, with many slips and falls. The highlight of the day coming from Mr Weasley, who in his attempt to place his right hand on the red circle caught his left leg. In attempt to be graceful, Arthur tried to regain his balance by lifting himself onto his tired feet, unfortunately his plan backfired as his whole body collapsed sending him into a forward roll. The roll certainly wasn't expected but the crash into the coffee table covering Mr Weasley in tea and biscuits was by far the best moment of the day so far. The family were in hysterics.
Overlooking Arthur's hilarious slip-up, the games continued as the girls came out on top and it all came down to the final match up, Ginny vs Hermione!
"Right foot yellow!" Said Harry towards his girlfriend, who instantly complied.
"Left hand green!" Hermione moved next.
"Right hand blue!" "Left leg green!" Left hand red!" Right leg yellow!"
Harry kept shouting out combinations to the pair who were trying to keep up with each others moves as if their life depended on it!
The laughter from the whole family filled the room, it was a great feeling for everyone. Combining both joy and a competitive edge to family games is what they do best.
Everything was going well until Ginny's foot slipped and crashed into Hermione leg. This caused the girls to tumble to the ground.
"Draw!" Shouted George, almost amazed by the girl's competitive drive.
"Not sure about your referee skills George," said Arthur pondering the situation, "According to the rule book it says Ginny was at fault here."
Ginny noticed how interested her father had become in such a game and laughed while reaching over to Hermione helping her up off the floor.
"You okay Hermione?" Said Ron looking rather worried at his girlfriend, who was grasping at her forearm rather distressed.
"Yeah I'm fine, honestly," replied Hermione in a tone that did not, in fact, sound fine. She cringed at the bolts of pain shooting through her veins.
"Good game girls, good game!" Said Molly joyfully, "Whose up for some dessert!" Everyone gleamed back at Molly, they didn't even have to reply before she had practically jogged over to the kitchen to get her pudding. A homemade trifle, deliciously made, placed onto the table by Molly herself.
Hermione was the only one not to look at her mother-in-law, as if she didn't hear her, as if she was to busy with something else.
The truth. Hermione really was distracted. She had felt this pain before. More than once. The frequency increasing each day. But she couldn't speak about it, not even to Ron. She couldn't bring herself to dredge up her past trauma, still haunting her to this day. The war had been won, and yet Hermione felt far from safe. Her mind becoming the real villain.
She had to ignore the pain. And that she did, as much as her body could take, which was a lot considering the witches past experiences. Hermione had to dig deep for mental and physical strength in order to see the family meal through. The last thing she would want is all her loved ones fussing over her silly scar.
Silly. Nothing Bellatrix Lestrange ever did was Silly. No, and Hermione knew that. But blocking out the truth was what she did best. Perhaps it was why she felt safer alone.
Hermione joined the rest of the family at the table, all digging into Mollys special trifle. Ron gave her a small smile, still checking that she was fine. She smiled back at him. Ron really was the best boyfriend. And yet, Hermione couldn't help but feel very lonely in recent times.
Ron and Hermione arrived back to their apartment in London, it was quite a way from the Weasleys burrow, but apparating made short time of the distance.
"Mione? You coming to bed?." Asked Ron, Hermione had locked herself in the bathroom. "In a minute." Hermione replies, trying to mask the pain in her voice. Ron knows somethings up, but he also knows how stubborn Hermione can be.
Hermione heard the squeaky bed frames from the other room. She didn't want Ron to see her so upset, he'd seen that once to many.
Hermione began to pull back her top, a single tear fell from her face from the pain and the embarrassment she felt. It was a long sleeve top of course, the only type of top she would wear no matter the weather, hot or cold. She didn't like short sleeve anymore, even 5 years later the very sight made her feel sick. Each time she revealed the horrifying sight the memories came flooding back, she would never forget.
"Put the boys in the cella!" Screamed a furious Bellatrix whose fiery eyes darted across the room, "I want to have a little conversation with this one! GIRL TO GIRL!"
"Please we didn't take anything," pleaded a vulnerable Hermione, pinned down by the murderous witch herself.
Screams.
No noise would ever drown out those produced by the young witch.
Tears.
Pain.
Torture.
'MUDBLOOD'.
A word that speaks a million yet only one truth.
Forever and always.
Hermione revealed her scar, dark with red as if it raged with anger. It had never looked or felt like this before, as if it was worsening even to this day. Deeply etched into her skin, the work of only the darkest of magic.
The girl knew she couldn't let the dark witch control her life anymore. But the truth was the memories of Bellatrix Lestrange were cemented deep within her mind, fear radiates off her body with shivers. The sheer sight of the witch was enough torture for Hermione, luckily she hadn't had to endure this pain since the war. And she never would. She's gone Hermione, she's dead. The words of her boyfriend 2 months ago, hadn't muttered a word since. But that didn't mean the thoughts had ended. Or the dreams.
But she had to move on.
That's what she told herself 4 years ago. And here we are. Worse than ever.
Hermione wiped the tears from her eyes, washed her face and cleaned her teeth. She was greeted by a snoring Ron on the other side of the door. He did try and stay awake. Hermione smiled. She climbed into bed and placed a soft kiss on Ron's lips, regardless of his sleepy state.
She squeezed her eyes shut. Shutting out her mind. Hermione needed a good night sleep tonight. She was back at work tomorrow after all.
Fall asleep soon she did. But it was no good night.
Screams. A boy. It was Ron.
The dark witch towered over his limp body across the floor. Hermione forced to watch. Blood washed the ground.
She could do nothing.
Darkness.
A very depressing chapter at times so I hope the Weasley meal made up for that haha.
The story will start to pick up pace in the next chapter with a climax on the way!