(Hermione and Draco take on the zombie apocalypse) It's been five years since Harry, Hermione and Ron left Hogwarts.
Hermione, now twenty-two and engaged to Ron, prides herself in her intelligence. All her life, Hermione has always needed to kno...
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Hermione woke up to find the bed next to her empty. She squinted her eyes and looked over to see what time it was. The room was still quite dark, but she could faintly make out that it was three-thirty AM.
Where did that wanker bugger off to? Hermione thought grumpily, as she sat up in bed, blearily blinking the sleep out of her eyes. She stretched and slid out of bed, the ground was chilly even though she was settled in the Weasley's Burrow, the final days of preparation for her wedding with Ron underway.
Hermione cringed and stepped into some cozy slippers with thick soles, and stepped out of bed in her pajama pants and an old tee-shirt. Now awake and nosy as to where her fiancé had gone in the middle of the night, Hermione set out of bed to go grab a glass of water in the Weasley's kitchen.
No one else had arrived yet for the wedding, so the house was only filled with herself, Ron, his parents, and Ginny who had arrived before Harry. Fleur and Bill were expected later that day, with the other Weasleys and Harry arriving later that week. The Wedding was set for a week from that day – and Hermione found herself feeling nervous and antsy just thinking of it.
Hermione had always wanted a smaller more quaint affair, but Molly had gone and invited several guests, and many had RSVPed promptly, eager to witness the joyous occasion. Hermione didn't like the thought of having a large audience as Ron and she exchanged their vows, however knowing the day would finally come after years of their rocky relationship had Hermione feeling high on bliss. Ron was the love of her life – regardless of their problems. With him, she just could never turn away.
Surprised at the October chill seeping in through the walls of the usually warm Weasley home, Hermione grabbed a sweater of Ron's off of where it had been discarded on the end of his bed. It said 'Gryffindor" in big gold and red lettering across the front. Though it was snug on him, it fit Hermione loosely, and snuggled into is relishing in his smell. A hint of his aftershave mixed with the vanilla scent Molly usually had in the house. On an afterthought, knowing a witch or wizard should never be parted from their wand, grabbed her hers and placed it in the large pocket of the hooded sweatshirt.
She padded into the hallways which were unusually dark, the Weasley home even in the dead of night always showing signs of life. Hermione frowned and crossed the hall, turning on the lights in the bathroom. She hit the switch but no light appeared. Hermione glanced around the small space confused, not sure how the power could go out in a magically charmed wizard home.
Feeling uneasy, she headed down the hall towards the stairs. The floor boards creaked loudly under her feet, the house seeming to tilt under her feet. Unbalanced, Hermione braced herself against the wall and placed her hand in her pocket and gripped her want. She pulled it out, not comfortable in the darkness, even though she knew her mind was likely playing a trick on her.
