The Dream

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"You filthy mudblood!" shrieked Bellatrix as she yanked at a handful of Hermione's hair. Hermione cried out in agony, hot tears of pain pouring down her face.

"P-p-please, st-stop it. Y-you're hurting me!" Hermione whimpered, slowly being drained of strength to fight back.

"Stop whining, dirt! You're pathetic!" Bellatrix cackled, yanking the chunk of hair again. "Now let's see just how dirty your blood really is!"

Bellatrix grinned evilly as she took out a small silver dagger. She brought the dagger to Hermione's neck and gently pressed it into the skin. A small trickle of blood made it's way down her neck and mingled with her sweat.

"Just as I thought," she sighed, almost disappointed. "Dirty, dirty, dirty. Maybe we could drain the dirt out!" Bellatrix continued, slightly more earnestly. "Drain out your dirty blood! Let's hope it won't stain the floor!" She then took her dagger and deepened and extended the cut on Hermione's neck. Blood gushed out of the open wound, and soon a glistening scarlet pool began to form around the two women.

***

Hermione awoke with a gasp, and almost fell out of bed. Strong hands gripped her waist and pulled her back to safety. She turned to smile at the figure next to her, but was slightly unsettled.

She knew her dream had not been real, well, it was an adaption of a vague memory. But it had seemed to vivid and it still unsettled her to see the same woman lying next to her that, in her mind, had been torturing her only moments before.

"Everything alright there, Mione?" her gentle voice and concerned words did little to comfort Hermione's unsettlingly feeling.

"Fine, it was just a bad dream," she sighed, slidding her feet off the bed and into her slippers. She picked up the dressing gown discarded on the floor and tied it around her waist. Without looking back, she walked out the bedroom door, and made her way to the kitchen downstairs.

She began making breakfast for them both, with that unsettled feeling expanding inside her.

She heard footsteps behind her, but she ignored them, continuing to prepare the breakfast.

"Mione," Bella whispered, as she slowly slid her arms around Hermione's waist. Hermione flinched slightly at the touch. "Something's wrong. What is it?"

"Nothing, Bella," Hermione said, turning around to face her lover. "I promise."

She smiled up at the woman, whose face was cast into shadows by the mass of black hair. Hermione shivered in this woman's arms, arms which once cause her pain. So much pain.

"I just," she sighed heavily, and pulled herself out of Bella's clutches. "I just need a walk. To clear my head."

And she turned and walked out the door, leaving Bella stood in the kitchen, staring after her.

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