Running

Chapter 1

19th September 2020

Hermione Jean Weasley awoke with her unkempt hair covering her hazel eyes. She began quickly tying it back into a tight plait, noticing that she hadn't woken to the sounds of her children running around the house. It took her a moment to remember they had been at Hogwarts for nearly 3 weeks already. She still hadn't gotten used to the loneliness them being gone brought for her. She sighed, noticing that her memory was continuing to get worse. Over the past few years, she was slowly becoming more and more forgetful, and she hated it. "Smartest Witch of the Age" was no longer a name she held with her flimsy memory. At least she remembered her medication. It didn't seem to do much but Ron said he could see a difference; even the smallest of compliments could make her feel so much better. She could take her medication later. Even if she did forget, she'd get a searing headache to remind her to take it anyway.

Ron was out. This wasn't a surprise to Hermione. He usually spent his nights out and his days working. He was home a lot more during the school holidays, often drunk, tired or screaming at his family. Rose would 'look at him funny' or Hugo would be writing with 'the wrong hand' or Hermione would mess up in one of the many ways she seemed to be prone to. Ron couldn't understand when things were even slightly unusual; this had meant Hermione was now distanced from the muggle world, but that was fine, she couldn't remember much about it anyway. After his ranting, raving and beatings were finished, Ron would go out, often to just drink more. It was then that Hermione would run to tend to her children. Recently, however, the children would simply run up to their rooms after their father left, rather than running to their mother like they once had. Rose knew a few simple healing spells and would use them on herself and her brother when needed while glaring at her mother. It hurt Hermione when they first began to do this. Before she hadn't understood why they felt she was the one that had betrayed them, they were berated and attacked by their father, not her. But she never stopped him, she never could. In the time after their years at Hogwarts, Hermione had become a coward. Hermione was becoming more and more numb to this, however, she no longer cared or simply felt less when she saw this. This wasn't unusual. Her love for Ronald normally far outweighed anything else she could feel.

But yes, Ron was probably out 'working'. As his wife, Hermione was, of course, able to rely on him and trust him, but rumours often fly around, and though she knew the Daily Prophet often posted false stories, she couldn't help but wonder why, whenever an article mentioned Aurors doing great acts, he was never there. Not even once. He came home telling extravagant tales of taking on 4 rogue werewolves on his own or saving another Auror from a deluded ex-Death Eater's attacks, yet his tales never seemed to reach the news. She never received the Quibbler; Ron made her cancel that subscription 'costing us a bloody fortune' even though the Daily Prophet cost more. She had begun to question it less and less. She was being paranoid. He was a hard-working husband who provided everything for her, right?

He only came home for dinner on a Sunday and even then he would barely speak to her. He often ate at the Burrow which was only down the road. Though Hermione still had a dull longing for independence, she found herself living incredibly close to her in-laws, who often provided her family's meals, and she didn't even have a job of her own. If Ron did speak to her, dinner would almost always end in arguing and Hermione realised that she often let him win barely even trying to prove her point or show her husband how ridiculous his argument was. Why did she do that?

Hermione's head had already started to ache. It felt like it was about to split open and she was about to reach out for the medicine, which Ron surprisingly made himself. She'd been having it for years and though the taste wasn't very pleasant the liquid itself looked enchanting; it was magenta with milk blue swirls and often seemed to call you to it. However, today Hermione couldn't hear that call. Instead, she went back to sleep.

Running. She found herself running. What from? She didn't know. Her feet moved on their own. She was terrified; she kept running. Then, at the end of the path, stood a figure. Tall and dark and dominating. She could smell something, something she found familiar, just like the figure. All she could see was its emerald green eyes staring straight through her. She had stopped running but was still drawn to the man in front of her. Suddenly she was pulled back into the arms of her husband, Ron. She squirmed to get free, feeling as though he wasn't holding her safe but holding her captive. Abruptly, she found herself in a room, cramped and cold. Gradually, it began to expand and was warming up. Then she heard the word 'Finite'.

Hermione woke up startled by her dream. However, rather than dwelling on it, she had one thought on her mind: 'Whatever happened to my old friend Harry?'

Hey, guys! This is my first ever story so I would really appreciate some constructive criticism in reviews. I'm thinking of continuing if you guys like it so far, I know it's kind of short but I hope Chapter 2 would be longer. Thank You!

21/02/2022 - I'm currently updating this story - This first chapter doesn't have too many changes, just enough for me to see a little improvement - hope you like it!!