The room was dark, the candles that had lit the ballroom had been blown out in the rush to get them into the building. The screaming had stopped, and the final echo had bounced off the large room. They stood in a circle, watching as she evaded the questions, the Cruciatus curse was hard not to cave to but she didn't. She would never give them up, the two fools in the dungeon would never have been able to do what she was doing now. She was stronger than anyone knew. Even himself. His hands had shook; when the golden eyes had looked into his own, he could feel the blood pool into his fingers and drip onto the floor as his nail cut into his skin. He continued to tighten his hands with each of her screams.
She had not broken eye contact with him. He felt the bile in the back of his throat and waited for her to look away, yet she never did. She was challenging him, You can stop this. He could feel the thoughts invade his mind and he shut his eyes before the screaming begun again. He could practically feel the knife cutting into her, and his skin crawled. Sweat broke out on his brow and he stood like a statue in order to not fall.
His eyes opened and stared at the wood floor watching as the blood poured into the cracks of the floorboard. Each cut seemed deeper as Bellatrix laughed at the cruel words written in her skin. She had stopped screaming, the golden eyes no longer stared into his soul but through him. Was she breathing? He waited, clinching his fists as his eyes flickered over her, he waited for her chest to rise and fall. He could count the beats of his heart in anticipation. He matched eyes with the demons in the room, their red eyes smiled at him as he looked face to face. Why was she not breathing? Where were they? He shook slightly as the door was blasted open.
He woke up with a start, sitting up quickly and letting his eyes adjust to the darkness. He felt the cold sweat run down his spine, and he shivered at the feeling. It had been a long time since he had dreamed of that night. It had taken him many nights to stop the shaking in his hands from the small battle, had taken him even longer to remove the sight of her blood running towards him. He had removed the flooring in the ballroom the moment his feet stepped out of Azkaban.
He rose from the bed and opened the window taking in the cool air of the dawn. He could feel the screams of the past bouncing around in his head. He reached for the flask at his bed side and brought it to his lips, cringing as the warm liquid ran down his dried throat and flowed through his veins. He watched as the sun rose over the hills beyond the manor and sighed taking another swig from the flask. He needed to head to the St. Mungos before it got too late in the day or he would be there all night. He should have gotten up earlier than this, he took another swig of his flask and winced closing the lid and putting it back on the table.
He shouldn't have tried to touch her, that was his first mistake. Maybe, just maybe she would have talked to him. She acknowledged him after the war, screamed at him, maybe she would have done that again. But her eyes, the warmth that he had always known her to have, the fire that fueled her, was gone.
It had shaken him to the core.
He shrugged his shoulders and dressed for the day, tucking his flask in his pocket. He clinched his hands again and waited for the shaking to end. It would not do anyone any good to be caught researching drunk on Fire whiskey, he thought staring at the man in the mirror. He rolled his sleeves and apparated to St. Mungos.
Her shoes clicked on the tile of floor of the ministry. The polished floor echoed until she breached the doors then the voices of the ministry became deafening. There was always a lingering sadness she felt walking through the wide arches, the memories that she had of this place still haunted her. She shook her head, her curls rolled from one shoulder to the other, she would not travel down memory lane today, the tears from last night could stay in the past. She kept her eyes forward as she quickly made her way to the corridors to her office. Most people avoided her on a good day, she was not known to be warm and comforting, not since she began working in the prosecution of most of the death eaters, all but one at least. She was determined and headstrong, that kept people away. She bristled at the thought and raised her shoulders higher, the previous year she had been overwhelmed with gratitude after the remembrance, her face had been plastered on every cover of the Prophet and she had to fight her way through. Blaise had kept his promise from last night and the article this year had been brief and to the point, she owed him once again. She quickened her pace as the already crowded room increased in capacity. She did not want to press her luck.
"Hermione!" she heard her name and slowed her pace slightly, "Why are you running?" Ron caught up to her and flung an arm around her shoulder. She bristled slightly before relaxing. He pulled her to him, and she wrapped her arm comfortably around his waist. To many it would seem affectionate, to her it was simply comfortable. Ron had been supportive to a fault after the war, however many attempts at communication had come up short and he had moved on, it was easier that way. He had moved home and she was sharing a flat with an enemy. "Our favorite journalist has magically kept you out of the papers again. Can you tell the git to keep my face off the cover as well?"
"Ronald. I have no idea what you're talking about." She smiled slightly to herself.
"Sure you don't." He bristled and waved as a passerby shouted his name. "I'm sure you have never once persuaded him to do anything in regard to the Prophet and he simply adores my features." She laughed and pulled away from Ron as they approached the elevators. "Honestly though, I am happy you came last night. I was worried you wouldn't but I'm now worried that you left so quickly."
"Ron, I can't talk about it. I had work to do and did not feel it appropriate to have someone drag me home." She shook her head as the doors opened.
"Yeah I figured you'd have something as an excuse." He shook his head and she made to protest, he raised his hands and cut her off before she could begin "Look me and Harry pulled a case in last night after everything, someone's mind has been messed with again. Looks like legilimency gone wrong. You will want to hit the hospital before the healers get to them. See it with your own eyes while we find the guy." Ron shrugged his shoulders and turned the other way. She paused and tapped her foot on the ground for a moment. Her office had been so close, Blaise needed information from Yingly but the hospital sounded much more necessary. She sighed and rolled her shoulders heading back through the ministry and to St. Mungos.