August | Hermione Granger x OFC

Epilogue Part 1: Robyn and Friends

A/N: ermmm. hello? anyone still here? 🎤

well... if you are... i, sandycheeksluvr, formerly known as fugly-slut, present to you ~the epilogue~ AKA robyn suffering for (???) more chapters

introducing: LostHerMarbles!Robyn

no like seriously

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They'd been hugging for more than five minutes, she was sure. And she didn't care. They could stand there holding one another on that bridge for the rest of their lives. The seasons could change, the leaves going from green to orange to nothing, the sun shining down on them, rain soaking them, snow freezing them, and Robyn wouldn't care - or perhaps even notice.

"We have... so much to talk about..." Hermione whispered shakily, her lips brushing against Robyn's hair while squeezing her tighter all the while. It seemed she didn't want to let go either.

"Not now," Robyn replied just as quietly for fear of disrupting their frail peace. She liked the little bubble they were in, just the two of them, a world of their own. She didn't want to talk. She didn't want to move. "Not yet. Let's just... breathe. For now. Just breathe."

And they did.

Eventually, they mutually pulled away - on the same wavelength as they often were - and without a word, they began slowly - so slowly - along the bridge back towards the castle. In the silence, Robyn heard the crunch of gravel under her shoes, the slow, shaky breaths leaving Hermione's open mouth, and the faraway pops of both Apparition and Disapparition from inside the Great Hall.

Waiting in the courtyard, having been watching them, were Harry and Ron, and neither of them spoke a word. Robyn looked up at them, but Hermione avoided their gazes.

"Are you all right?" Harry asked carefully, ducking slightly to get Hermione to meet his eye. He reached out to touch her shoulder, and she allowed it.

"We will be," Robyn answered for the both of them when Hermione did not, unknowing as to how true - or not - the statement may be.

But her brief stint of hope didn't last long: moments after Harry's question, several Aurors ran out the Great Hall with their wands pointed at Robyn, shouting for her to surrender. Behind them, Lloyd and the Malfoys were already restrained, magical handcuffs keeping their hands behind their backs. They were the only living Death Eaters and Dark Lord supporters to have stuck around, to have not tried to escape, and they were going to pay the price, apparently.

Azkaban.

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"Hello?"

There was no response.

"Lloyd? Draco? Mrs Malfoy?"

There was no response.

All she could hear was the sea below, its waves crashing violently into Azkaban's foundation. For once, the sound of water was not a comfort.

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It was cold, and it was dark, and time did not seem to exist. It might have been one day, or two, or a week, or a month. Based on the number of lukewarm waters and slices of stale bread that she, maybe, received once a day, it had been four days.

Four lukewarm waters. Four slices of stale bread. Four stone walls. One magical bucket. Zero windows. Zero human interaction. Zero moments of peace.

Dementors. How many, she didn't know.