Reverie

Reverie

Summary:

Death. The word is easily spoken, yet does everyone in the world know exactly what it means? The most recent death in the tale of Harry Potter stains the world, weeping over the loss; the people have lost all hope. Now what will become the torch to light the world to victory over the growing darkness?

Disclaimer:

Everything concerning Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling. I, Runningidiot, own nothing from this story, and do not plan on making any sort of profit by selling. I do not intend to make a mockery of the epic tale of Harry James Potter, but I continue to write H.P fanfiction for the mere enjoyment of it. I wish to light the fires of all Harry/Hermione supporters out there and let them become optimistic for the next book, rather then hate to see it come out.

Rating:

For now it stands at PG13. Notice the “for now” right? This can change in later chapters. You have been warned.

Author Note:

My first chapter fic to hit Portkey. I'm trying out the first-person style of writing like my previous one-shot fics on this glorious site. Be warned, if you didn't notice earlier, this fic has Half-blood Prince spoilers, seeing as it is set AFTER the book's events. I wrote this chapter in about a day, so if it is disjointed please inform me.

But most of all! Enjoy! And Review please!

Chapter 1:

Acceptance

Watching the beautiful white feathered owl swoop out into the night sky, I couldn't help but feel relieved that my friend had finally accepted Ron and me to be his friends. Continuing to gaze at the, now mere spec in the night sky, owl, I forgot about all of my worries since the beginning of the summer holiday. For a moment, I was amazingly blissful. Yet, after the spec disappeared from the blackened horizon, my usual calm composure returned, and I began to fret about how he was feeling or whatnot.

Truthfully, I had hated the summer thus far, this two month period was pure hell for me, I was always anxious on what could possibly happen in the next year of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Last year had been most… ruinous. The death of the legendary Albus Dumbledore sent a tremor throughout the world, but - more importantly - shattered the torch of the world.

Harry James Potter.

The bane of Lord Voldemort, the warrior that guides the epic blade against him, his ego was now devastated, crushed into the depths of oblivion. Though he continued to ask his friends for guidance, he finally realized that we were here for him.

Smiling ever so slightly, I shut the window, the bird chirps dying along with the locking of the window. I was glad that he had decided to open himself up to the world, but something… bothered me.

His writing sounded… I pondered for the correct word, as my orange coloured cat pounced around the small room, chasing after one of his toys.

“Monotone,” I whispered quite suddenly, finding the perfect word and feeling an amazing sense of pride swell up inside of her. True, Hermione Granger accomplished many feats with relative ease, but being the most brilliant girl in the world did not help in reading what the misguided Harry Potter was thinking at all times.

First he tried to barricade me, and Ron of course, and go save poor old Sirius who didn't even need saving. Then the headmaster of the school he currently attended was murdered by someone the victim thought he could trust with his life. And then he goes off and decides to drop school because of the imbecile known as Voldemort.

Kicking the first object that came into my line of sight, I regretted the frustrated action as my toe seemingly cried out in pain, a tremor engorged from within me, sending foul language spewing from my mouth, though my tongue was not quite used to it. The end result was random blurts of gibberish as I was sent crumbling to the floor, massaging my poor little toes.

Apparently I had kicked the corner of my dresser, my very large dresser. I groaned, falling backward onto the floor with Crookshanks peering at me from above me, no doubt wondering why I was looking like a beached whale. I leapt upward, fumbling to straighten myself.

Automatically peering over to the nearby mirror, I noticed my hair was rather…

“Tangled,” I mumbled, my hand rising to run itself through the tangled mess, truthfully I didn't care how my hair looked, but now it was rather… “Unpresentable”. I chuckled at my made-up word as I left my room, aiming to stomach to nice lunch before my reading session. I sighed rather sadly as I made my way down the stairs and toward the nearby kitchen, marvelling the many pictures my father had apparently conjured out of nowhere.

I was thankful that my parents had finally accepted my innate, yet unnatural, abilities and was pleased that they had become rather comfortable with them as well. My father, with these pictures, joked about my abilities, saying he did indeed envy them though he was sure that he actually possessed some to a degree.

I giggled rather quietly as I entered the kitchen to see my mother humming an unfamiliar tune as she went about the daily chores with a smile on her face. She turned as I entered and I saw her smile lengthen quite dramatically. Attempting the smile back, I waved a hand and waved. I made my way to the table, setting myself down and trying to keep the scraping noise to a minimum.

“What would you like?” My mum asked me automatically. I rotated my head to see that she wasn't even looking at me while talking to me. I figured she was paying more attention to the plate she was currently drying off.

I thought for a moment, though nothing really came to mind that really… “I dun know.” I said when the word never came to mind. The older woman turned to me, cocking her head in confusion.

“That's not something, Hermione would say.” She stated, placing her hands on her hips. In reply; I shrugged.

“Just a drink then,” I said, losing my appetite rather quickly and wanting nothing more than going back up to my room and fall back to the darkness of slumber.

Turning away from her and seeing my gaze move up to the window across from me. I found myself gazing at a random rabbit's progress across our front lawn.

“What drink?” She asked me once again, receiving only a sigh and the same response from me.

“I dun know.” I repeated only to get a groan from my mom. I chuckled turning my head back to the front yard and not seeing the rabbit's presence anywhere. I strained my neck, lusting to see the flawless white fur of the typical rabbit.

“What's wrong with you today?” My irrelevant mother inquired, turning around with my eyebrows raised and my mouth open, I didn't even need to say the babble of random letters that fell out of my mouth. The older woman understood just by looking at my expression.

She turned away, occupying herself with the dishes while I continued my never ending search for the white rabbit, I found myself walking towards the front door, opening it and staring out into the quiet street. Was it mere coincidence that none of my neighbours were currently outside?

I found my legs moving automatically. I knew something was wrong when the door shut behind me, yet I couldn't control my body, I felt oddly… blissful.

“Imperius?”I questioned within my mind as I stepped out into the middle of the street, mutely hoping my mom, or even my lazy father, were watching this through the same window.

“Ms. Granger,” the hissing voice startled me, yet I had expected it somehow. “You are mighty gullible indeed. Even more so than your dear friend, Harry.” I couldn't even turn to see who was speaking, but I had a fancy guess that it was one of the many Death Eaters.

“Yes my lord, I envy your sharpness while my gullible attitude is a permanent liability for the both of us.” I heard the words fly out of my mouth, yet I could do nothing to stop them, I couldn't even place a mask of terror on my face, knowing I was soon going to be taken elsewhere, or even killed in mere seconds. The invisible Death Eater chuckled, sounding oddly like a croak more than anything.

“You are a good girl, Granger. Nice and weak, just the way the Dark Lord likes them.” He then began to howl with laughter, I would shut my eyes and wish that I was elsewhere, anywhere, but here in the world.

I felt my fists curl up, anger swelling up inside of me. It then hit me; I was acting on my own! I had thrown off the deadly Imperius curse! Spending no time cheering for my strength, I whipped out my wand - which I had kept close by at every waking moment ever since Sirius's death - and turned to face my unknown opponent.

What I found was what looked like; a hunchback, crooked and I noticed numerous scars dotting his face. He looked up from the ground, his hand leaving his face. I acted quickly, raising my wand and waving it around in a complex pattern, hearing the rod cut through the air like a wisp. I mumbled the incantation, and saw the result through the fearful expression on the Death Eater's face; he lowered himself to the ground, bowing repeatedly.

I lowered my wand, no doubt from shock of the sudden action. Though I remembered the spell and… I stepped backward when the Death Eater suddenly grabbed his forehead, as if he were in pain, falling backward onto the pavement. He then cried out loudly, no doubt alerting the entire street of his presence.

They came quickly, Aurors - appearing out of thin air with resounding CRACK sounds - they went to work, returning the Death Eater to his normal self. He looked around; cursing at the new presence he stumbled backward, still grabbing his forehead in pain. Aurors raised their wands at once; a stream of sticks rising from resting positions, seeing this number of wands seemed to frighten the Death Eater. Though he looked straight at me, a menacing look pierced right into my heart, making it beat triple the healthy rate; he continued to stare at me, shutting his eyes so that he was squinting at me, as if fixing my entire image within his mind.

The Aurors then finished their job stunning him; he fell to the ground, a weight also falling off of my chest. I crumbled to the ground, my wand trickling onto the ground as well; I was on my knees, my vision becoming oddly blurry. I could hear my parents crying out to me, wondering what had just occurred, I couldn't answer them, and I felt fear gripping at my heartstrings, pulling them to the depths of unreachable locations.

It was then that my world went black, and I couldn't help but feel so cold, I felt myself curling up into a ball and lust for someone to crawl up to me and cradle me, just as a mother… or even a lover would do. I forgot about everything in this world I had just passed into, the blackness took my memory, it took my… I don't know. I attempted to rise from my knees, but found I couldn't. I then felt tears; cold, wet, and obviously dreary droplets of water seemingly bleed from both of my chocolate brown eyes. I was crying. Her… Herm-I-own? I couldn't remember my name, but I knew one thing.

Only one person has ever made her cry. The name continued to ring through the blackness, different tones in different voices. I floated aimlessly, wandering around, hearing the same name called out affectionately, angrily, stubbornly, even lovingly.

I was awoken by the sound of muffled voices, multiple voices actually, all in different tones and different sounds eradiating from them. I could not make them out; my mind was still in the dark depths of nothingness. I attempted to open my eyes, to show that I was - indeed - conscious. Yet, when the light from elsewhere shinned into my tired eyesight I felt my eyes - seemingly automatically - shut on their own.

It seemed that my body wished nothing more than to return to the lonely darkness.

“Hermione!” The cry of the familiar name alerted me, making me forget about the darkness. My eyes opened to see a freckled face of the - all too familiar - Ronald Weasley. “You're awake!”

I replied tiredly, suddenly lusting for the dark again, “s-so it … appears.”

It was then that something caught my attention; my surroundings were rather recognizable to me, as it was my own room, but a new person had entered; his hands in his pockets, unruly hair - jabbing the air in every angle of a compass face - and a bemused expression on his face. “H-Harry,” I found myself saying.

“Hermione,” he greeted, entering the room fully while Ron turned around to greet him.

The conversation between the two males did not enter my ears fully; my mind was rather focused on the sudden - rather unexpected - appearance of the Boy-who-lived.

One question stood rather clear in my mind amongst the other gibberish floating throughout my boggled mind, what did the Chosen One hope to gain by visiting, the pathetic, Hermione Granger?

“You okay?” The inquiry made my mind's troubles dissipate, leaving me rather conscious and aware of my surroundings. The person talking to me was, I realized, the same person my mind was dwelling on.

“I-I've seen better days.” I said weakly, finding his gaze rather blank, devoid of the usual fire that burnt within the two, paired, eyes. A slight smile appeared on his lips, the two cheeks parting somewhat to allow the amazingly optimistic expression room to develop. I too attempted to bring this expression onto my own visage, but found it rather difficult.

“Do you remember anything?” He asked me, sitting down on the edge of my bed, letting one of his hands drape my blanketed left leg. I opened my mouth to give him a response, but when none came -

“Of course she does.” The red haired Weasley said slapping Harry on the back friendly. Harry looked up at him with his brows raised upward, no doubt wondering why Ron was acting oddly cheerful. “She's the great know-it-all right…?”

“Remember… Remember what?” Ron snorted with laughter at this, though neither Harry nor I mirrored this, creating a slightly awkward atmosphere that caked the three of us for the few moments.

Harry continued to look at me rather sharply, as if trying to detect what exactly was wrong with me at the moment. I felt like some foreign machine was scanning my entire body. An uncomfortable cloud hovered around me, making me bring the one blanket I had draped over me closer to me. As if sensing my discomfort, he looked elsewhere, releasing his relaxing grip on my leg.

“Do you remember that damn Death Eater?” Ron asked stubbornly, causing both Harry and I to stare at him in bewilderment.

The Boy-who-lived spoke this time, his voice sounding rather… distant. Or even monotone, just as his letters did. “Ron… Ron, give her someti-”

“Haven't we already?! It's been a bloody day, Harry!” I felt even more uncomfortable now, lowering my head so that my eyes studied the patterns of my quilt rather interestingly. “My dad's been murdering himself, trying to find that damn girl.”

“Wait,” I said suddenly, causing both of the arguing boys to stare at me. My mind chuckled, realizing that it was usual Ronald Weasley and I who were arguing and Harry, seemingly floating in air, wondering when the “discussion” was going to end. “Wasn't the Death Eater a guy? And didn't the Aurors actually get him.”

I saw Harry smile widely, an actual bright grin that seemed to lift the uncomfortable cloud off of me, bursting it into a million, irrelevant, pieces. “It seems like you're actually on the same page as us, Hermione.” He said rather brightly.

“Did we really have to do that, Harry?” Ron groaned, shoving his own two hands into their respective pockets and looking out a nearby window. “I swear, you've been talking to Moody way too much.”

I laughed at this, the burst of an actual sound surprising me slightly. “Was that to see if this was the Hermione Granger?” Harry shrugged at this, his returning to my own.

“Sorta,” he said in his new, monotone, voice. “Moody's wanted me to check if your memory's intact or not. Apparently Voldemort's got this new technique for the Imperius curse, in which it harms the memory of the user as well.”

“'Mazing,” I spat bluntly. “I'm the newest guinea pig.”

“We weren't testing you!” Harry said, exasperated.

But then Ron added. “We wouldn't want to lose our homework now would we?”

I stared at the two boys for a second, attempting to read their expressions, but then I realized what he had just said. Homework… “You-you're coming to Hogwa-”

Harry held up a hand, silencing me instantly. “No,” I opened my mouth to protest some more, forgetting about my injuries. “NO, HERMIONE!” I lay back, feeling rather offended. Harry rarely ever yelled at me, but at least he looked rather apologetic right now, staring at me with a pair of seemingly hurt eyes.

“H-Harry,” I whispered. “Why… why don't…” I was lost for words, the English language could not express the sadness I was feeling right now.

“I am going to continue to search for the Horcruxes, Hermione. I have learnt what I need from Hogwarts, even if I go back this year; I will have just wasted one year of my life.”

“No! No, Har-”

“Yes, Hermione. Hogwarts, as magnificent as it is, does not… it doesn't teach me what I really need right now.” I looked up, frustration - no doubt - rather evident on my face.

“Y-you…” my hands curled into fists in an attempt to vent out my aggravation. “You prat! What you really need now is friendship! Yet you continue to block… block me and Ro… Ron and I, saying you need to take the weight of the world by yourself.”

Harry shut his eyes while Ron edged away slowly, thinking that he did not belong in the conversation, and he was right, he didn't. “Hermione…”

“Shut up! I'm so tired of your heroic behaviour! You! Y-you…” Harry then started to stare at me, as if wondering what exactly I was yelling about.

But then he surprised me a lot, he stood up rather calmly, as if attempting to act like Dumbledore, and approached me. He stared at me, his eyes grovelling into my own, I felt at a loss of any form of speech as he looked at me, his vision piercing my entire body.

Then he leaned down, wrapping his arms around me, holding me tightly.