Devils and Dust

Devils and Dust [1]

Hermione was falling down, without any escape, in the pitch black darkness. She flung her arms out, trying with everything she had to reach something, anything, to stabilize her. stop her from falling. Stop her from crashing down, but it didn't work. It never did. She let her powers seep out of her body, a form of protection, and curled it around her hands, knowing that if there was just hell and monsters in this god forsaken pitch black nothingness, at least she had her chaos -or magick, whatever you want to call it. And, luckily, not a moment too soon, as the hauntingly familiar eyes started to appear out of the darkness, once more, and she curled her magic around her tighter, hers and it wouldn't be taken, ready to fight the being for her best friend once more...

Hermione awoke with a gasp, flinging herself out of bed, her duvet discarded on the opposite side of the bed. This had happened frequently, she thought annoyed, and shaken, although she would never admit either, ever since the night after last challenge in the Tri-Wixen Competition. The challenge where her best friend, her Harry, had gone in thinking it was just a challenge and had come out, a haunted look on his face, his eyes glassy, showing her that he had been broken. After he had been interviewed interrogated he had said quite firmly that he was tired and that he wanted to be left alone, and, showing just who knew him, no one but three people –Including her –had stayed.

Her, Remus, and Sirius. Sirius had curled up at the end of the hospital bed, Remus on the settee, and Hermione? Hermione curled around her best friend, stroking his hair, ignoring the way Sirius –and Remus, if she were being honest –was watching them. She had hummed for hours, continuously, eventually seeing approval and something else in Remus' and Sirius' eyes, but still he wouldn't sleep. He couldn't sleep, terrified of what he would see. Hermione had closed her eyes and steadied her breathing, knowing that the adults in the room would have reacted one of two ways to what she was going to propose to Harry, but knowing that she'd deal with it either way.

"Harry?" she had whispered his name, into the darkness, feeling as if she had spoke any louder, it would have made everything shatter. She felt him still himself next to her, and she stroked his back softly. "hey," she continued, as if she hadn't noticed, "do you want me to clear your mind from night terrors again?" this was the tricky question because it always depended on his answers, and as he was beginning to become aware of the consequences of what it did to her, he was more hesitant to ask her for the help. Luckily, it was only normally a severe migraine, of which she had learnt to push through and get on with her day as if nothing was wrong. She had no idea what it would be like now in his mind with what went down at the grave yard and she felt her heart break a little more –and God, how was there any more left of it to break –when she felt him nod instantly after she had finished the question. She calmed her breathing once more, not realizing she had been holding her breath, and gently whispered to him to calm down as best he could, knowing that he would always do what she said, as she always wanted him safe.

"hunc ego mente tueri daemonia (1)" she heard a version of someone –no doubt Sirius –having a sharp intake of their breath, and knew that in any other case, she would have placated them, but she didn't have the time. She had had consent and with that had freely entered Harry's mind, not registering the hole that there were, and falling down, down, down into the endless nothingness.

Falling, falling, falling.

Trying to grasp something, anything –nothing there, no, no, no!

Help, help, help, he–

Silence.

It had gone from a constant roaring type of noise, to absolute silence.

She didn't know which one was worse. Hermione stood up on shaky legs, and pulled on her magick, as if she were in danger. Which, she thought, she probably was. Oh god, she stopped as a sudden realization came to her, this is Harry's mind. He had to deal with this continuously, twenty four seven. She curled her magick around her hands, in case of someone, or thing, she guessed, appearing suddenly.