Blade Of War (Dramione)

Chapter 1

Hermione has been torn from within by the darkness she had witnessed unravel.

She had hoped that maybe, just maybe, she would go on long enough to see that mere glimpse of light she longed for.

But no, all she saw was pure dark, nothing else.

Any glimmer of flashing luminescence that once surrounded were soon put out. Nothing from the outdoors, nor anything lighting up the cold stoned confinement that surrounded.

There was still blood on her skin, and cold running through her system. Aches all around, spine rattling rings entering her ears. She questioned if she was feeling in the present or if she was merely doing it to herself. She knew what she had witnessed would leave a mark for all of eternity, yet the switch between a dozen voices, and rapid silence had her believe she was going mad.

The feeling of war, defeat it was never going to part from her being, whether it was tomorrow or years after. It was inevitably long-lasting.

She wants to see anything at this point, a flicker of luminescence from the outside looking in, yet she couldn't pinpoint a single glimpse, she questioned if she was of consciousness. She questioned her own voice that echoed through her minds enclosure. She didn't know what lies she was telling herself or what words spoke of truth.

She still sees nothing but the abyss of shaded grey guiding her way, within every corner she turns to. She does not withhold the light she ever so desires.

She looks down every hall, turns her head at every sound, clutches her breath at every cold sense that comes upon her being.

Her mind told her she couldn't have possibly been in there for too long, yet her physical being said otherwise. She was drained, tired, isolated. Her shivering fingertips were icy cold with scruffs as she picked at her skin constantly. She found herself muttering nonsense to herself whilst she still kept her ears open for any sudden movement.

Differentiating reality from thought seemed nearly impossible.

Was anyone else even in close proximity? She couldn't tell. Her mind couldn't separate memories from present time.

She looks around the cell walls, touches the cold, hard floor, yet she still comes back to the sense of dullness. She wished she had the strength from within to check every scrammed cranny of the tight closed space for even the smallest of objects to pick the lock that kept her inclosed.

But she simply glances around, up and down, from the ceiling to the stone floor, and she can't see a single tool that's of any use. None.

All she had was the scene on repeat, the sound on spiral.

After time on, she thought she might have had those memories diminish within her core mind. Yet she still can't filter it out, nor can she fathom the idea of thinking anything of the word good, nor the sound of bliss.

She has seen far too much to just simply go back to her everyday self, no, she cannot. For all she sees and hears are whimpering screams and flashes of light which withheld the powers to immensely torture one.

What she saw was war, every second of every minute, that's what swarmed her thoughts, and consumed her as a whole. She paced the tight closed space, at the same time her mind raced at an unfathomable rate. It felt wrong, it all felt wrong. She desperately aims her eyes across from where she grew timid, her glance scattered for even one familiar face. She thinks she hears muffled voices, yet she also doesn't trust her instinct, she doesn't believe her mind is in the right space to distinguish if something was happening in real time or if she was simply shaken up for good. She is with no doubt out of place, yet having someone who withholds the same obstacle would provide a sense of security. Then again she looks at every possible angle, around every spot that was within distance. Nothing.