Six long years after the Battle of Hogwarts, war and bloodshed rages on and widowed Hermione Granger is practically the Order's personal martyr. The head soldier and spy, her days consist of nonstop trials of taking down Voldemort's army and going o...
TW: Dark themes, blood, death, and other disturbing topics will be prevalent in this book. Proceed with caution. You've been warned.
This is inspired by Manacled by Senlinyu and Secrets and Masks by Emerald_Slytherin. Thank you for those beautiful works. Please check them out if you haven't.
Enjoy. x
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"The tragedy of life is not death, but what we let die inside of us while we live."
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FATA VIAM INVENIENT
The Fates will find a way.
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Art by msmorsmordre
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Thick, suffocating silence filled the air, nearly drowning Hermione as her back laid against the cold stone wall behind her, her fingers trembling against her will.
Her chest heaved, as silently as she could manage, her eyes cut down towards the ground while trying to hear anything— anything at all other than her own fear, her own racing heart, her own lungs gasping and begging for air.
Anything other than the godforsaken death rattle escaping from one of her friends, Lavender Brown, in the corner of the room, a friend she couldn't fix this time— again. She had heard it once before, that haunting noise, the second year in that hospital tent they make shifted in the middle of the woods. The blood, the writhing, the screams, and that fucking death rattle — the noise that let them all know it was too late and nothing else could be done, she was circling the drain. Death was knocking on their door once more.
It haunted her nightmares and the effects that came with it still lingered years later. That wet, crackling gargling as her lungs and mouth filled with blood, slowly suffocating her in the most torturous way. She tried to fix it, executing every counter-spell she knew, but they must have created a new hex and no matter how much she tried, she couldn't stop the terrified look of knowing she was going to die out of, now both, of her friend's eyes.
Useless.
No wonder she was the expendable one, always sent out on these missions, always the one used as bait.
They told her it was because of her wit and lethal, quick action, but after six long years, she knew her place in the Order.
