Broken Bits

26. Slumber

Fred was not in the room when Hermione finally woke from her trauma induced slumber. She woke slowly, her fingers twitching first then her toes. At last her eyes fluttered open to see a wide fan above the bed she was laying on. Slowly craning her neck to the right, she found two large bay windows showcasing the ocean.

She couldn't hear the waves crashing against the shore, or the mindless chatter of seagulls flying overhead. But she could picture it all. The ocean was a deep purple color as the sun slowly peeked over the far away line where the ocean stretched from view.

Hermione watched as the ocean turned from purple, to pinks, to oranges until finally settling on a deep blue color.

She laid there for hours, completely sure that she was dead. That this was her heaven. A white walled bedroom, with a big fan overhead fan and cool white sheets. With the ocean right outside her doorstep. It was everything she ever dreamed about when she was a little girl. It was the perfect sort of home in her eyes.

She must have died in Henry's arm to be gifted something like this. Her little heaven after a overwhelming amount of hell.

Hermione swung her legs out of bed, figuring that if she had passed away then all of her pain must have vanished. But the moment she stood, she crumpled. Her jello legs couldn't support her, and a sharp pain went up her spine.

She wasn't dead, and she didn't know where she was or how she got there.

The scream that tore through Hermione's severely torn up throat shot Fred off the couch in a matter of seconds. Hermione's scream only intensified as the sound of pounding footsteps got closer and closer. This was it. If she wasn't dead already, this was the moment.

Henry had captured her, dragged her somewhere nice to taint with his wicked ways. She'd be his forever, until he grew tired of her. He placed her somewhere she loved so she could die a horrible death.

She cowered in on herself, curling into a ball as the door swung open wide. Fred gazed at Hermione's bed in a panic, before rounding around the edge of it to see her in a tight ball sobbing.

"Granger." Fred whispered, slowly falling to his knees beside her. Hermione jumped startled, and scrambled away from his hands. She assumed her mind was playing tricks on her. Perhaps this was actually her hell. How else would one explain Fred kneeling down next to her? He was a figment of her imagination. None of this could be real. Fred hated her.

"It's just me." Fred whispered again, but he didn't move from his spot. Letting Hermione gain her bearings, and slowly uncover her face.

When Fred's eyes crashed into Hermione's, she went still. Calculating him. Watching the way his gaze softened, and the worry line between his eyebrows only got deeper. She watched as Fred's eyes sought hers, and tried to convey a message that Hermione couldn't hear.

"Fred?" Hermione croaked, her voice coming out hoarse and crackly.

"It's just me." Fred whispered again, but he didn't reach for her. "I promise." Fred whispered, as the words left his lips he suddenly had an armful of Hermione.

She launched herself at him, crashing against his chest sending them sprawling to the floor. Fred wrapped his arms around her, as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"I'm sorry..I'm so sorry." Hermione babbled, sobbing against his neck. Fred felt the tears run down his shoulder, disappearing under the collar of his sweater.

"Shh, shh it's alright." Fred whispered, running a hand over her hair to calm her. She stilled in his arms, but didn't let go of him. Keeping her face buried against his neck.