destruction ➙ h. potter

37

Hermione shot up in her bed covered in sweat and covered in tears.

She quickly dried her eyes.

This was the third nightmare this week.

In every dream the school was at war, people were dying. Her friends were dying.

Hermione was so glad it was just a dream.

She was about to lay back down to go to sleep when she realized something felt off in the room.

Lumos

She realized instantly what was wrong.

Isabel was missing.

She jumped up quickly and ran over to her bed.

It was perfectly made, as of no one was ever there.

On the bed was a small folded paper with a little bundle of blue flowers.

Her bedside table held only Oliver's picture and a small box that Hermione had never seen before.

Hermione picked up the paper and read it.

I am writing this because I feel like I have to.

I don't really know what to say.

For as long as I can remember, I've never truly been happy.

Yes, I've experienced happiness. But there has always been a looming danger and terror in my life, preventing me from letting myself be happy.

I guess I want to say thank you to my friends.

Harry, Hermione, and Ron.

You have always been there for me.

From the day I moved from America to this very day, you have never truly left my side.

I owe you all so much and I wish I could repay you.

Also, I'm sorry.

I'm sorry that I was always worrying you.

I'm sorry for being a burden.

And I'm sorry for this especially.

You three will do so much.

Go on and kick Voldemort's ass for me.

I love you guys.

Thanks for the memories.

-Isabel

Hermione's chest felt tight, her breath quickening.

She crushed the letter in her hand and ran as fast as she could to the boy's dormitories.

She pounded on Harry and Ron's dorm room's door. She didn't care if anyone heard her. She didn't care if she woke them up.

Seconds later a groggy Ron answered the door.

"Hermione?" He said, obviously confused by the flustered girl, "What the bloody hell is going on?"