Occhiolism [dramione]

Breathing Without Air

As Hermione Granger walked through the door at 12 Grimmauld Place, one of the last safe houses that still remained undiscovered, she swallowed.
It was everywhere. Hanging in the air, like a thick smell of warm blood in your nose. Pain. Agony. Silent suffering. She could feel it. Everyone was quiet and yet, they were so loud. Their eyes seemed to scream in pain, even though none of them just moved for one inch.
Everyone rose their eyes at her when she walked in. Except for two persons.
Ginny and Harry. The readhead looked horrible. As if someone would have gotten slaughtered in front of her and then got forced to eat them. But it was worse.
A single tear left Ginny's eye, as she saw Hermione enter the big meeting room.

Harry shared an excrutiating look with Hermione, stood up and immediately sat back down. Silence remained. Yet his eyes were screaming at her.
"Can't you see it? Can't you see what happened? Don't force me to say it out loud Hermione. Don't. I beg you." Hermione knew exactly what had happened.
As soon as she had entered the meeting room she knew it. How could she not see it?
Still, a sharp pain hit her chest like she got stabbed with a knife as Hermione looked at the empty chair next to Harry. His chair. She had expected it. Nobody would survive foreever. But Ron- she fought with herself not to lose a single tear. She had to be strong. But Ron was her best friend. Her family. Harry and him. She could barely remember the three of them sneaking out one night in second year after Hermione tried to talk it out of the boys but they still went and so, she had to go with them. They would be lost without her. And all of them knew it.
Now she was the one who was lost. She slowly was losing herself and Ron's death did not make any of this better.

If she would stand there any longer, surrounded by silent people which were yet all screaming at her, she'd lose it. Hermione moved her left leg, then her right. And so on. Slowly she got the control over the function of her body back. But still, it felt very automatic. She was moving but didn't realize it fully. It felt as if she were in a bubble. A protective, invisible wall that surrounded and kept her safe from the outside world.
"Hermione, wait!" She heard someone call her name, but already had shut the door to her friends, and her emotions. She was numb.

Harry did not speak at all in a total of three days. Hermione instead had driven herself deep into work. When it had happened, she just came back from a foraging trip. Hermione had visited one of the other safehouses to bring them supplies for a variety of potions. Her vision blurred and her body went cold as she thought aout him. She drew her limbs close to her body and covered her face with her hands, as she sat down in a corner of one of the training rooms where she also had kept all the potion supplies. It overwhelmed her and she tried to fight against it, but as more as she tried not to cry, her breathing became faster. She felt numb, her chest ached in pain and her brain felt foggy. When Harry Potter entered the room and found Hermione visibly shaking but staring at the wall, he rushed towards her. " 'Mione, what's wrong?" Hermione wanted to look at him. She wanted to tell him what was wrong. Though, the brown haired girl, whose curls slowly started to get out of hand, couldn't breathe, her chest ached and her sight blurried.
She wanted to go through all the possible diagnosis she could have in her head, but her mind wasn't clear enough to recall any memory about her book of healing he read earlier.
Maybe it is a heart attack, it shot into her head. Maybe this is my last breath and I'm dying.
She found herself secretly wishing that she'd be dead soon.
Hermione saw Harry trying to talk to her, but she could not hear him anymore. Her ears were ringing. She couldn't feel his touch on her shoulder nor when he stroke her hair back, put both hands on her cheeks and seemed to shout at her. She wasn't sure if he was really saying something because she hardly could make out the outline of his face anymore. His contours blurried and she found herself crying in the same position when she fully gained consciousness agan. Hermione didn't know how long she had been crying nor had she realised that she was screaming at Harry.
The feeling in her cheeks as salty liquid ran over them came back slowly and she immediately closed her mouth. She still wasn't able to move or speak. It felt like hours had passed but a quick look at the clock assured her, it were actually just 5 minutes.
Our world is falling apart, Harry, - she wanted to say.
But she just looked at him, in agony, and received an understanding face from him.
"I know, Hermione. I know. We'll get through it, together. You're my best friend, remember?" As if Harry knew she did not want to talk about Ron, he just closed his mouth and sat beside her. They both knew it was not a heart attack. Harry sat next to her for exactly 38 minutes in complete silence. Then the door opened and Dean put his head through."Harry, are you coming? We - Oh, sorry." He stopped when he saw Hermione sitting next to Harry, looking like a dead body.
"I just wanted to let you know the next Order meeting will be in five minutes. Hermione, if you want to join? But it is just casual stuff so... don't feel obligated to." Hermione tried to send him a soft smile.
"Thank you, Dean. But i think I actually will go to my dorm and lay down. I feel very exhausted." As soon as she replied, a wave of tiredness hit her. Her head was pounding. Reluctantly she got up, walked past Harry and Dean and went straight to her dorm. She had to thank Harry later.

Hermione Jean Granger was not a strong person. She was weak. She did not care if she was alive. Everything she wanted was peace. And it seemed easier for her to reach her goal by dying than winning a cold blooded war.