Devastated, Hermione took in the landscape around her.
She was in Hogwarts – her second home, the place cherished in her heart. She was lying at the end of the Quidditch Pitch, just meters away from the Forbidden Forest. She was just sitting there, staring at Hogwarts.
Or what it used to be.
There was no more Hogwarts. The Quidditch Pitch stretched out long in front of her, brown and coarse. And behind it - Hogwarts was burning. The air around Hermione smelt like rancid flesh and smoke, and it was lukewarm and stuffy – she could hardly breathe. Scream and scream echoed through the night, and person after person could be seen jumping off Hogwarts. The night air was alive with noise – screams, clashing and vibrating with terror. But Hermione couldn't hear anything. She couldn't hardly see anything either, or smell anything. She was just sitting there, numb, so numb. She didn't know how she managed to get there – to save herself from the war, escaping with only the ends of her hair singed. She didn't know how, or why.
She didn't know where Ron or Harry were either. They could be one of the people taking a suicide jump off the castle, because it was sure, however she had gotten here, they hadn't been able to join her. The two most important people in her life… could be dying.
Her breath was lost in her throat, and the rush was hot anger came about the same time as the tears that spilled down her mud-streaked cheeks.
It was that terrible thought which propelled her forward. She shakily stood up, breathing deeply to calm herself. And with her watering eyes set straight forward, she strode in the direction of the burning castle.
She was at the end of the Quidditch Pitch and the screams were getting louder, and the stink stronger. The place was a madhouse. The students seemed to have multiplied and some hysterical survivors ran past Hermione, their eyes like madman's. Just minutes before, those same students were lounging in their common rooms, no worries save for the late homework or overdue library book.
Hermione was one of those people. She, Harry and Ron had chosen their favorite seats in the common room, and were laughing, for no particular reason.
It was then one of those random pauses – the sort of pauses which people who are having different conversations all happen to pause at the exact same moment and for a second everything is quiet – and then it happen.
A scream. Somebody had screamed, and pretty damn loud too. Everyone exchanged confused looks. Then there were more screams, both male and female, and footsteps could be heard. Not from just one person though, from a crowd, by the sound of it.
The Gryffindors stepped outside the common room and met the rush of terrified students running past.
"Run!" Some people called out to them. "Run, run, now! While you can!"
Everyone, understandable, was confused. Then, we felt a cold breeze. People were just coming round the corner. People with dark cloaks, and the Dark Mark clearly visible on the front of their robes. They were walking calmly, not running, as if they knew they would catch us anyway.
And by god did we run.
In the stream of people, things became a blur. Where were the teachers? Were they dead, what happened to them?
The stream of students came to an intersection and without thinking, people ran down different roads. Hermione ran left, puffing, and it was a while before she realized Ron and Harry weren't with her. She had lost them in the intersection – had they taken a different path?
From then on, it was blank to Hermione. All she could think about was to now find her Harry and Ron.
Inside the castle, it was strangely quite. The occasional, far-off scream could be heard, the occasional student fled by, and occasionally Hermione found herself walking next to someone's dead body, drowned in a pool of it's own blood. The sight made her sick. And she also found herself checking every corpse to make sure it wasn't anyone she knew. Think positive, she told herself. Positive.
At one point she almost walked around a corner straight into a Death Eater. She jumped back quickly, of course, without being seen. Her heart was pounding painfully in her chest. She'd been careless – walking the hallway like she used to. The dead bodies weren't there for nothing.
A hand grabbed her arm, and she almost screamed, if it were not for the hand tightly covering her mouth.
"Shut up, Granger, it's me," hissed a voice.
Perfect, she thought. It's Malfoy.
To her horror, and utter embarrassment (she had been meaning to show Malfoy she was a calm, level-headed girl and not weak) she started talking fast and hysterically – it was like hearing a familiar voice broke her down.
"Oh, Malfoy," she wept. "I'm so glad you're here – what on earth's going on? Why is this happening? And where on earth are Ron and Harry? Oh, Draco, I've been so worried – "
What was even more embarrassing was that she starting crying on his shoulder. She supposed she had been in shock before, and trying to bottle her feelings down – now she fully realized what was happening, the true danger and it all came out.
Draco, to say the least, was shocked. "Granger, calm down." He said, awkwardly patting her head. "Get a grip of yourself. Don't worry about your friends, I know where they are and they're safe."
Hermione's head shot up. "They're safe! Oh thank god…' she felt giddy with relief. "But wait… aren't you on the dark side? Shouldn't you be back there with them all, killing everyone? Why ?"
"For Christ's sake, shut up!" Draco hissed. "First of all I'm not on the Dark Side, and second of all, if you keep talking like you are, you're going to get us both killed."
Hermione was silent.
"Come with me," he said, gently taking a firm grip on her upper arm and pulling her along.
She don't know why she followed. She supposed it was because she was scared, and didn't know what else to do. Everything seemed lost to her.
AN: I promise I'll update my other stories and get a start on the sequel to MtaM. But I had to write this down, and since I have a story for this in mind, I thought I'd post it. Please tell me what you think.