When We Were Beasts

Not Strong Enough

It was two nights later that Hermione had another night terror.

George's voice pounding all around her as Hermione stared at Angelina's corpse.

The stench of blood and rotting flesh.

The sound of their voices, the feel of their clammy hands pulling her down, down, down-

Hermione lurched out of her cot. Blindly she slashed her wand through the air, the tent flap rolling back at her command. She didn't bother with her shoes as she ran into the cool air.

To the river, She thought. Neville said the river is safe.

Hermione could finally see the water when she fell to her knees and hurled up every piece of fish and water that sat in her stomach.

A branch snapped under someone's foot.

Hermione whipped around, still on her knees.

"It's just me, Granger." Malfoy said softly.

Hermione couldn't help the relief that washed through her.

He came to kneel beside her, and she waved the vomit away. She wiped her mouth off with her sleeve.

They said nothing for a moment, the only sound that surrounded them being the rush of the river, Hermione's deep breaths, and the occasional owl hoot.

Hermione stood on shaky legs and walked silently down to the bank. With one palm she scooped up the frigid water, and with her wand she cast a purifying spell to clean out any bacteria or diseases before she drank it.

The first time she swished the taste of vomit out of her mouth. The second, third, and fourth time she drank, and it helped clear her mind. The sounds of Angelina and Hannah and the vampire ebbed away.

Malfoy was silent through it all, waiting on her to be ready.

When Hermione finally sat against the soft grass, he joined her. Their arms touched, and she leaned into the warmth.

Carefully, as if he were scared she'd spook, he wrapped his arm around her and tucked her into his side.

Friends do this, Hermione told herself, even as her heart raced. Even as the scent of him calmed her more than the fresh air. This means nothing.

"Is it the same visions?" Malfoy asked quietly.

Hermione swallowed. "Yes," she whispered. "I can't stop hearing them scream. Can't stop seeing them die. They want to drag me down with them, and I crawl and claw away but they always grab me and then I'm screaming too." She shuddered against him. "Their screams haunt me. The way George looked at me when he asked about her makes me sick. I feel so guilty... I don't know how to make it stop."

She wouldn't use anymore Dreamless Sleep or any other potion to help her cope. Not when Luna and Theo needed it more.

Malfoy rubbed her arm once. "No scream had ever followed me," Malfoy said, his voice low. "I've heard plenty, both by my hand or someone else's, but none ever crept into my dreams and certainly none of them ever woke me. Until these past few nights. I keep hearing your scream, when my aunt tortured you in the manor, over and over again. It's begun to...haunt me."

Hermione turned, and she could barely see his silhouette in the moonlight.

Darkness shrouded them, and yet this darkness made her bold. It cocooned around them, so that they were the only people who existed in that moment. 

"It does not haunt me." Hermione whispered.
And it didn't. Not anymore, when so many other atrocities barreled their way to the forefront. Her torture at the hand of Bellatrix was nothing compared to what she'd faced here. "Don't let it follow you. I'm alright, and we're alright, now that we've found our friends."