Blood Below the Stars

The Bathroom

Thank you for waiting! I know it's been a killer long time! As some of you kay know, my dad passed away a few months ago and I've not been myself. As well as having a toddler at home I really haven't had any time to write at all. This chapter is unedited, and not my best, but I'm trying to best to get back into the habit, so please bare with me while I find myself again.

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Hermione watched as the last of the grime washed down the plug hole. She sat cross legged on the floor of the shower in a trance, her thick curls covering the front of her face. Her knuckle was still split, and she sat opening and shutting her hand, watching the gash flex among the tendons. She got up slowly, her body was still jelly, but her mind was clearer.

She dressed in a jumper dress and leggings that Ginny had bought her, it smelled of the Burrow. Like freshly made bread and ginger snaps. She pulled the fabric over her nose and enhaled. She stared at herself in a mirror, the edges still steamed and her face hauntingly observing her from the centre. She was paler then before, her eyes puffier and redder. Her eyes looked how she felt - dark - empty. Black instead of brown.

She gripped the edges of the sink until her knuckles turned white. Holding her breath until her lungs screamed at her to finally breathe - when she finally did it came as one big racking burst that was so deep and sob ridden it stung. All of her stung, every inch of her ached. Hermione was no stranger to grief, but nothing - not even the war, compared to this.

'Get a grip girl.' she said staring at herself.

Lost in her own eyes she jumped when there was a small knock at the door. She straightened herself up, and started to pick up her things.

'Just a second,' she croaked towards the door.

The knock continued, steady and slow and insistant. Hermione rolled her eyes.

'Just a minute!' she called again.

She gathered everything up and headed towards the door. The knocking had turned faster, frantic but drawn out as though whoever's it was was dragging their hands down the wood. It sounded desperate.

For some reason her hand stopped as it touched the door lock.

"Is everything okay?" She said through the wood.

No answer. The banging at the door grew louder still.

There was a muffled noise behind the door, low in vibration, guttural, almost as though someone was trying to speak.

A groaning. A desperate primal noise of need.

Something didn't feel right, something was wrong. Someone was clearly in trouble. As if on cue a red light descended across the bathroom and a loud siren began to resonate and echo throughout the room.

"Evacuation..." she said under her breath.

Hermione wasted no more time in tearing open the door.

"What's going o-"

Hermione screamed as she was bombarded by a dead weight that knocked her to the ground. Fingers entwined in her still damp hair, pulling at in painfully, tearing at it, trying to pull her head up.

Winded but alert, Hermione pushed against the weight as much as she could. It was a woman Hermione had seen around but didn't know the name of. She had smiled at her now and then in the corridors. Her face had been kind, sweet - but now was contorted and gurning, her pearly white teeth almost cracking from the violent and jarring crashing of her jaw. Hermione took a firm grip on either side of the woman's head as it strained closer to her.
"Get off.." Hermione pleased but the woman was relentless and continued to claw at her. Hermione could feel the womans nails dragging down through her skin and she screamed louder. She scanned around for her wand but saw it out of reach outside of the bathroom. She must have dropped it on impact and it rolled away. Typical.