dursley [h. g.]

••dursley•• || free

Kendra was surrounded and had probably moments before the five Death Eaters around her ambushed her, which was almost certain death. If they did not go for the kill now, it would not be hard for them to overpower her and kill her later. She had to get out of it somehow, and the only somehow was apparation.

Morgana was reluctant, but they both knew that there wasn't time for anything but action. "as much as you can, help me," Morgana instructed. "I'm taking over now."

Morgana pushed herself to the front of Kendra's consciousness and Kendra, now in the background of her mind, did her best to concentrate on everything she had learned in the mandatory apparition classes she had taken at Hogwarts the year before. Destination, Determination, Deliberation.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion as the Death Eaters raised their wands and Morgana focused herself, Kendra helping all that she could, before together, they turned on the spot. For the first time in her life, the dark and empty vacuum of apparation was a comfort to her. It meant that for the time being, she was safe.

She still had no idea where she was going, and when she fell out of the sky and landed on a bed of dry, dead grass, she suddenly didn't care. Freedom was sweet, of course, but the mind-bending pain in her hand brought all thoughts away from her escape. Just as Morgana had thought, Kendra was splinched. And when she looked down at her left hand, her last three fingers had been reduced to nothing but nubs, blood oozing out of them, the tips of the bone just visible, stark white against the crimson.

She stared at it, the shock forcing her pained gasps for air stick in her throat for her to choke on. What did she do? Was her freedom so short-lived that she would only get to taste it before she bled to death in the middle of nowhere?

"Take some deep breaths," Morgana instructed. "Together, we might have enough left in us to as least put some skin on it. On another day, I could have gotten your fingers back. I don't know if that's possible now."

They're just fingers, Kendra told herself, trying to calm herself down. Morgana had taken control again, muttering different healing spells in attempts to get the skin to grow over the wound. Time seemed to spin past, the clouds overhead wheeling into stars in a single blink, the bright blue sky returning when her eyes reopened. They're just fingers. Just the last three fingers on her dominant hand, but she could learn to use her right hand. She would learn. They're just fingers. Fingers that would never be able to intertwine with Hermione's again--would Hermione even want to touch her? Seven fingers, three nubs where phantom fingers elongated from just below her first knuckle.

They were only fingers.

"It will be alright, Kendra," Morgana replied, sounding exhausted. Kendra was not sure that Morgana believed what she was saying. "I think... yes, we will be safe here if we rest. Close your eyes, Kendra. We're safe."

Kendra did not mind. She closed her eyes, wondering if her life was all some sick dream in someone else's head. The thought was chased away with sleep, her dreams far away from the field, from the sticky blood covering her hand, from the small cuts all over her body, from the aching pain that grew as she lay, unaware.

{::}

Hermione was convinced she had lost three fingers on her left hand when she woke up, though the dream was already so hazy when she stood that she did nothing but rub her hand to make sure her fingers were still there. If it had been any other day, she would have sat and wondered why she had the dream and what exactly it meant.

But Harry was waiting for her, invisibility cloak in hand, just outside of the tent. She knew he hadn't slept--she wouldn't have either, if she was waiting to go to the place her parents had died, perhaps see where they were put to rest for the first time. She had no time for wondering why she had dreams about missing fingers. She had to be there for Harry. If not for The Boy who Lived himself, then for his cousin, who was somewhere fighting to make sure she returned safely to her family. Even if somewhere was too far away, Hermione would fight to make sure that her family was safe when she found her way back.