Harry Potter. Hermione X Male Reader Story

Trouble Hearing Voices and Tough Choices

(Y/N)'s POV

The second before it happened, the others had looked at me in such confusion that in any other circumstance, I may have feared I had grown a new head, but the spell left my wand regardless, aimed towards one of my allies.

But I could not explain my actions, I could not tell them that a seemingly inanimate object had almost willed me into action, that I knew something they didn't, because in truth. I couldn't believe it myself.

We had been grouped together, Me, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred and Percy, the two Death Eaters at our feet, one Stunned, the other Transfigured: and in that fragment of a moment, when danger seemed, temporarily, at bay, the wall beside us was blown apart.

Instinct told me to grip my wand tightly as I was flying through the air, so that my spell might meet its mark. That in the last second, I could move him away from danger, even by inches, hoping it would help.

Out of fear that I had missed I tried my best to keep my eyes open, but it didn't matter much, smoke and dust invaded my vision as a great fissure of rock was carved into a wall beside us.

Cold air told me that the side of the castle had been blown away, a metallic tasting liquid was flooding my mouth, pouring from my nose, I had been blasted the furthest from the epicentre down a hall and beside the tapestry.

My eyes stung, dirt and dust sticking to my skin, caked on my face as blood ran down it. I sat up despite the cries of protest from my body, moving chucks of stone from on top of me. Peering at my friends and hoping I had been fast enough.

And Hermione was struggling to her feet in the wreckage, and three red-headed men were grouped on the ground where the wall had blasted apart. Harry grabbed Hermione's hand as they staggered and stumbled over stone and wood.

I stumbled to my feet and my knees buckled, I clattered to the dusty ground and looked down to check myself, finding that my right ankle was not how it should have been, crooked and strangely shaped.

Maybe it was shock, or worry, but I was yet to feel anything, no feeling of pain hit me, even when I hurriedly pointed my wand to it and said "Episkey!" and the bones seemed to settle in their original resting place.

I felt the rush of cold, and the rush of heat, but nothing close to pain. Sighing, I stood, regretting ever meeting Bellatrix Lestrange. My leg felt strange, as if it was different to how it had been a minute ago, I took this as proof that the wound wasn't entirely healed.

Tripping over some debris, I managed to hobble my way over to my friends, noticing deep gashes caused by rock across my thighs but not particularly caring right now because of the scene in front of me.

"No – no – no!" someone was shouting. "No! Fred! No!" And Percy was shaking his brother, and Ron was kneeling beside them. Both brothers cry of shock and grief filled the air. I began muttering healing words under my breath.

My wand remained pointed at Fred, for a terrifying ten seconds where his condition remained unknown, but not good in any case. Finally daring to breathe again, I tried making him stir, hoping his sleep was temporary "Rennervate!"

Before I could conclude the worst, with a breath of air he raised his head, his eyes open. "Blimey. Bit cold in here now isn't it?" he choked out as blood, fresh and slick, pooled at his hairline, trickling down his face.

Despite the injury, despite the blood and the redness that filled the whites of his left eye, the deep gash across his head, I had never been happier to see Fred Weasley grinning at me. But as much as I wanted to, I couldn't heal him.

A body fell past the hole blown into the side of the school, and curses flew in at us from the darkness, hitting the wall behind our heads. "Get down!" Harry shouted, as more curses flew through the night.