Innocent

c h a p t e r t w e n t y t h r e e

GINNY'S GLARE CUT THROUGH HERMIONE'S SCALP.  She felt like wasps were buzzing into her head and angrily uprooting the past. 

"What did he say?" 

Her eyes glazed along the ceiling lining and made Ginny's frown deepen. It was the eighth time Ginny had asked for answers to Ron's absence. When she woke up that morning, Ron was gone. His weathered case was out of from under the bed, and the red socks he usually slopped on the floor were nowhere to be found. Even his toothbrush and deodorant were gone from the bathroom counter. Ginny shoved her hands through drawers, checking to see if he had left his favorite comb behind 

"Did he do anything?"

"Ginny no," Hermione waved her off, "It's fine."

"No, it's not! Mum is going to kill him."

"I'm sure he'll survive."

Angry blue eyes glared at her and Hermione stifled a laugh. It was weird seeing Ginny so pissed. 

"It's not funny! He didn't even say goodbye."

"Look, Ginny, I'm sure he was in a hurry." Hermione opened another drawer and skimped along with the lotions. His Peppermint bottle was nowhere to be seen. She remembered how he always smelled so strongly of mint, and she wasn't sure if she liked the smell it left behind. 

"You, Hermione. We all know he came to confess to you! The least you could have done.. was tell me about it?"

Her voice welled up into a squeak. 

"Like you don't ever talk to me anymore."

The words were coal and fire in her eyes. Hermione closed the drawer too harshly and some of the contents jostled out. 

"You're always hanging out with Lavender!"

Ginny shot her a look from the soap covered mirror. 

"That's because I thought you were tired of me. Hermione, you don't tell me anything. Ron. School. Your life. What's going on?"

"I'm just... not in the mood-"

"But you're never in the mood."

"Well, you're not in the mood to be a good friend."

"What?"

She tightened her grip on the drawer handle. 

"You know what I mean, you're like never around so I thought you were tired of me."

"Well, the same could go for you. You never seem in the mood to talk. Like I walk into the room and you're just kinda blank. And what about that guy? Is he trash to you? Do you hide from him as you hide from me?"

"Shut up!" 

Hermione's fist had plunged into the stiff brick. In her mind, she could never out jump, through the fibers of the paper, into the wood. Her arm felt stiff from being bottled up for so long.  Ginny gasped. 

"Just shut up."

She raced out the door. She ran past Lavender who was passed out on the bed. Her feet were jolting and sliding over her untied shoes. She had to escape this hell hole. She shoved at the door, but it didn't budge. Her arms formed a steel grip. The door swung open, the lock twisted roughly. 

Suddenly, she saw Ginny's tiny head in her beastly hands. Her arm tightened, and the foam skull shattered under her grip like popcorn. Blood and bones flew through the air. 

"No!" Her vocal cords ripped under the tight strain. 

It was just a vision, so why was Ginny still dead? Her thin body was basked in the grim light of death. She pushed the corpse aside, looking for Ginny. 

It was a vision. 

Ginny was upstairs, probably crying with Lavender. She hadn't followed Hermione outside, and she was sure of it. 

Her hands prowled deeper through the rich dirt as she looked for Ginny. Red hair, shocking eyes, pale skin.

The pale unearthly face with dilated pupils filled her mind. And with a horrid fascination, she realized the body she was holding was Ginny. 

The decapitated skull was crying even though her head had been ripped to pieces. 

Hermione screamed again. The ground raced towards her. She'd killed her best friend. She deserved to die. She wanted to die. She wanted a stake to plunge through her skull and kill her immediately. Fast was the best way to go. 

She urged her arms to stop but found herself violently swinging and grass. The blood was the blue sky, and the bones were stones. 

"No..." She murmured softly. 

Then the world was shaking and someone was yelling in her ear. She'd been caught. She fell limply into their grip. They would turn her in, and then she would get what she deserved. 

But the screams had a repetition of syllables and sounds, and through them, she could make out "Herm..."

That was her, and so she gazed at her captor. 

Ocean eyes cut through the darkness in her sound and muffled the demon raging inside her. 

"Hermione!" 

Draco was shaking her softly. 

"It's okay, it's okay."

"No."

She couldn't let Draco see her with what she'd done. She grabbed for Ginny, but the body was gone. The sky was blue and not gray. The grass was grass and not blood. 

A strangled sob slid out of her mouth. She was okay. Ginny was alive. She allowed the meek wall to break as it was submerged in tears of joy.

In the broken frazzled reality, she hugged him back. His chest was strong and warm against her cold tears. 

He was holding her back as she'd always wanted. And she wondered how God always let him rescue her when she was broken to pottery pieces. 

So she hugged him tighter so he wouldn't drift away from her.