Deception | By : valkyrie136 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 41681 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 5 |
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter characters or related franchises. I do not make any money from these stories. |
Hermione fled.
Her parents were out of danger, but she was too terrified to remain at home. She was confused, embarrassed, but most of all, she was afraid.
What if the creature came back? Sure someone had intervened this time, but if he hadn’t, she would have been raped. She knew this as surely as she knew her own name.
It was horrible. She kept replaying the same images, like a play-by-play through her head. Over and over again she experienced the same awful shock, the terror at seeing her parents on the floor, and then the awful knowledge of realizing that her magic, the one constant she possessed, was rendered absolutely useless.
She didn’t know where to go. She didn’t want to go home, because it was clearly after her. But she didn’t want to go somewhere else and draw the creature towards whoever sheltered her. Magic did not work. How could a wizard family help her?
No, Hermione would just endanger more people. And that was something she would not allow, even at the risk of her own life.
She was no hero, no, it was all for purely selfish reasons.
She did not think she could live with herself if another friend died. God, she still felt responsible for her friends deaths—oh yes, they knew risk but she never thought that things might play out the way they did. She always put faith in the ability of good to triumph over evil.
How naïve she had been!
Hermione had been labeled the smartest witch of her generation—that was a title she used to wear with pride. She knew that no matter what, she could be there to help, to ensure their success because it was her job. She was supposed to be the best.
But she had failed. She did not protect her loved ones. She survived. Because she was a coward. Because she…
Don’t do it, her mind whispered. Don’t torture yourself.
Preservation was key to her survival. If she could just manage for a little bit longer, then this would eventually fade away. Like a bad nightmare.
Think, what did she know?
And like a proverbial light bulb going off in her head, she immediately knew what she had to do.
Rushing back home, past her sobbing her mother and irate father, she fled to her room. Then placed a barrier spell around her room.
Where are you..
Digging through piles of books, she glanced at titles before flinging them over her head.
Arithmancy…Occulmency…Potions…
‘Fantastic Beasts And Where to Find Them.’
Newt Scalamander just became her best friend.
She thumbed the pages, ignoring the pounding on the door . She loved her parents, knew they were worried for her—hell, she was worried for herself—but Hermione needed to discover who had attacked her in order to best go about defending herself.
Her response—whether or not she reported the act—would greatly depend on what had come for her.
Dragons…
Harpies…
She hesitated over harpies. There were similarities between her attacker and the bird-like creatures. The wings in particular were similar, as she studied the sketches. But there were no such thing as a male Harpy, and furthermore, she had never had contact with a Harpy in her entire life. How could they know her like that….
She turned the page.
Minutes turned into hours, and she was beginning to feel that same sense of hopelessness that sent her running from her own home.
‘What are you!’ she screamed, flinging the book across the room.
For several minutes she simply sat there. Tired.
Her stomach growled, reminding her that even at the worse times biology demanded that she continue doing the same things she did every day.
Opening her door, she was rather surprised to see a body tumble into her room.
With a scream she jumped back, and immediately tried to slam the door.
Recognition hit her like a pile of bricks. It was none other than Arthur Weasley!
‘Are you alright!?’
He grimaced, ‘That’s what I want to ask you, Hermione.’
She felt her face fall. And despite herself, began to cry, but this time they weren’t tears of pain, but tears of happiness.
So it seemed that even failures like herself still had friends.
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