Hermione doesn't remember marrying or falling in love with her husband. In fact, when the healer asks her if she'd like to see her husband, she thought Ron would walk through the door. Instead, it was George.
A stray Obliviate from a dissenting blo...
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A/N: Hello everyone! I've included a trailer for the fic made by a wonderful reader and friend (iamtherubric on TikTok, who graciously ported it to YouTube so I could include it here! Thank you!!!). Their work is lovely, and I hope you enjoy it.
——————— The hard stone of Malfoy Manor ached under Hermione's back. The black curls descended around her face again as Bellatrix screeched in her ear, "What did you take?" The knife point caught on her skin, and it burned as Bellatrix etched.
She didn't have time to answer before the Crucio hit her, yet again. Yanking up and down her spine like fire. She tried to be brave. Tried to grit her teeth against it, but the cries tore from her throat anyway.
"What do you see, little girl?" Bellatrix breathed in her ear, and the air was hot and stifling. Hermione blinked at her arm. Where red should have poured from the cuts, a dark brown muck sluiced from the wound. "What do you see?" the death eater's voice was high and loud, cackling. The knife dug in, and Hermione cried out. "Answer me!" Bellatrix screeched.
"M-mud—" Hermione said, gasps wracking her. Bellatrix's face morphed, and a cruel smile twisted her face.
"Please, please," she heard herself begging, crying out, sobbing. She was alone. So, so alone. The muck tracked across her skin, puddling on the floor.
"No one can hear you," Bellatrix stared in her eyes, a detached smile on her lips. Then, she descended, and she was trapped. Hermione's blood curdled at the sound of her own scream.
Bang.
"Hermione!" a voice cut through the pain. It sounded distant, like she was under water and they were calling to her from beyond the surface. Hermione wept, the weight of Bellatrix on her was too much. Like a thick pool of mud that seared her skin wherever it touched. She would drown in it.
"Get off! She needs—she needs me!" The voice again, clearer this time, but still distant. The sound of a slamming door, of beeps and whirs. As she blinked, light cracked through the dark and with it, the voices grew louder.
"She's coming round," they said. "Hermione?" Hermione strained to see through the blur.
Another bang, but this time, she could tell it was from the next room or hallway. A dark shape appeared amongst the brightness. It looked like an open door, now that she stared harder. In its frame, there was a squeaking of trainers. A flash of red and black, and another thud as what looked like a person was knocked to the ground. The room wouldn't stop spinning; she couldn't tell if they were friends or...death eaters. Darkness bloomed in the threshold.
