Forget Me Not (Draco/Hermione)

Chapter Nine- Crashing Back Into Reality

Hermione sat alone, shivering on the dark oak floor, her face covered in tears. 

"Hello?" she called time and time again. "Ron? Harry?" There was no reply. 

Standing up, she felt as if the weight of the world was on her shoulders, pushing her down. She could hardly breathe and as she looked down, her clothes melted away until she was completely bare for all the world.

In the shadowy room, she could not see more than a few feet in any direction, her only source of light being a solitary candle, hanging above her head. She shivered again, a cold wind caught her pale skin, causing goosebumps to erupt all over it. 

"Hello?" she called again. Still no answer.

Suddenly, the light went out, plunging her into darkness. Her hands stretched before her, she stumbled through the blackness, trying to desperately find a wall that just was no longer there. 

"Hello? Anybody?" That's when she heard a noise. A cold, twisted, evil little chuckle that sent chills down her very spine. Bellatrix Lestrange.

A flash, like a lightning strike, struck before her eyes, illuminating the outline of the dark witch, standing only inches before her. The unruly black hair, the mad eyes, the knife raised. 

Hermione screamed, screamed as she had never done before, stumbling backwards as once again she was thrown into darkness. Bellatrix before her laughed harder, her cackle echoing off the walls. Hermione heard a slashing sound as the knife tore through the air, hitting her straight in the chest. She felt no pain, just a sagging feeling, as if air was being let out of a bag. 

Light burst around her, bright enough to burn her eyes. Bellatrix was gone. Hermione stared down at her chest. No knife. Sighing in relief, she turned, only to see what covered the dark wood beneath her feet. Blood.

Pools and pools of the blood. Everywhere. She spun. She was not alone. All over the floor. Bodies. Bodies of strangers. Bodies of aquantainces. And bodies of the most important people in her life. Her parents, Mr and Mrs Weasley, George, Percy, Bill, Fleur, Charlie, Kingsley, Mcgonagall, Wood, Sprout, Flitwick, Neville, Luna, Ginny, Ron, Harry and... Draco Malfoy. All of them and more. Their blank, unseeing eyes turned up onto her. Angry at her. Bloody tears coursed their cheeks, running into the wood below.

She herself was bleeding. The Mudblood scar on her arm was aflame, blood gushing from the crooked letters. Only her blood was different. Brown and thick, it dripped down her arm and fell from her hand, mixing with the red blood below. Dirtying it. She had no right.

Lifting her head up, towards the source of the bright light, she opened her mouth and screamed.

"Hermione!" 

Hermione's eyes flung open and her hand instantly reached for her wand.

"It's Ginny!" The red-haired girl looked down on her, her face full of concern. "You've just had a bad dream."

"It was awful," Hermione lifted herself against her pillows into a seating position, rubbing her face with her hands.

"You were proper screaming and all. Natalie had to run and get me."

"What time is it?"

"Four-thirty. We're all about to go down to start preparing dinner. I can say you're ill though." Ginny placed her hand on Hermione's forehead. After the war, she had learnt not to ask what happened in people's nightmares. She had plenty of her own.

"I need to go. I need to lead."

"If you're sure. Lunch didn't go too well..."

"Really?" Hermione asked, pulling herself from her bed and straightening out her top.