YOU DIDN'T MEAN TO • PANSMIONE

( EIGHT ! )

"Harry!" she screamed, her voice cracking. "Harry!" Around her she could hear people crying, and Ginny's bitter sobs, and Ron's utter silence, but she couldn't stop screaming.

This isn't how it happened?

This was a dream. In a moment, Harry would leap from Hagrid's arms, and everyone would be saved. Voldemort would die. The death eaters would vanish. She would be safe.

In a moment.

In a few seconds.

In the dream, she had no control over her own voice, and her screams ricocheted around the rubble. But no one seemed to notice; their eyes were fixated on the pathetic bundle that Hagrid carried, the limp form, the broken boy. Perhaps she was screaming inside herself, and that was why no one heard her. Or perhaps no one cared.

It didn't matter. This was a dream.

Surely?

Harry still wasn't waking up.

She wanted to run towards him but it was like her body was frozen in place, her limbs stiff and held rigid by invisible strings. She wanted to cry but the tears wouldn't fall over her cheeks. She wanted to disappear, but her body was as real and tangible as ever.

A hand gripped her arm and dragged her round to face her attacker.

Bellatrix Lestrange grinned down at her, her teeth black and rotted, her hair wild and matted, and Hermione felt panic and helplessness rising up in her like vomit, only it settled in her throat, and the burning of it filled her entire being.

And suddenly Hogwarts vanished, and they were in Malfoy Manor, only Harry's stupid, lifeless body was still there, and he wouldn't wake up, no matter how much she screamed. Couldn't he see that it was safe for him now? Voldemort wasn't here. No one was here - but for Bellatrix and Hermione.

"Mudblood," voices seemed to hiss around her. The word slashed across her vision, as if carved into her eyes. Bellatrix seemed to distort, and melt away into a red stain on the wooden floor, and she was left alone with Harry's body, and no one was there to help her.

"Harry!" she screamed, her voice cracking.

"Harry!" she screamed, her voice cracking.

"Harry!" she screamed, her voice cracking.

"Harry!" - screamed - voice - cracking -

"Harry!" - screamed - cracking -

"Harry!" - screamed -

- screamed -

- screamed -

- screamed -

---

She woke up screaming. She always woke up screaming -

"Hermione!"

Warm hands gripped her shoulders and shook her fiercely, and a voice cried her name over and over. She was dimly aware of other girls staring at her, silent, sleepy. Her voice was still screaming, but she wrenched it back inside herself and stared around, wildly, her pulse hammering in a frenzy of panic and fear.

"Ginny," she gasped, clutching at her friend. "We have to go, she's here - and Harry's dead - he won't wake up - "

"Shh," Ginny said, pulling her close. Hermione could feel her strong body shaking. "You're safe now. You're safe." For a few seconds, Hermione bucked against her grip, desperate to escape, but soon her mind settled itself, and she slammed into reality, painfully aware of the stares she was attracting.

Awkwardly, she detached herself from Ginny's arms. "I'm sorry," she croaked, her throat still raw from the screams. "I...had a nightmare."

"We can tell," one of the girls said, dryly. She seemed unsympathetic, but a few of the others glared at her.

"Are you okay, Hermione?" a small, skinny brown-haired girl named Mara asked. She nodded gratefully, but cold feel the weakness in her limbs, hollowed out by her fear.

"I'm fine. I'm sorry I woke you all up." She laughed a little shakily, but none of the girls appeared convinced by her facade. "Please, go back to sleep, I really am okay," she added again, a little desperately, uncomfortable under their scrutinising stares. Why couldn't she just get through a night undisturbed?

"If you say so," Mara mumbled reluctantly, but sleepily, rubbing her eyes. Hermione breathed an internal sigh of relief as they seemed to simultaneously roll over in their beds and return to their own, probably far more peaceful, dreams. Ginny, however, still stared at her in concern, or perhaps deep thought.

"Hermione, don't you think you should...I don't know, talk to someone about this?" she said quietly.

"It was just a nightmare, Ginny. Everyone has them."

"Don't think that you can fool me. I hear you getting up in the night often, stumbling about and casting spells, crying those sort of silent sobs people do when they're really scared." She sighed. "I didn't want to confront you, you know? But Hermione, you don't seem very happy. Do you think it was maybe a mistake to come back to Hogwarts?"

Hermione could feel her nose burning, heralding the imminent arrival of tears in her eyes, but she viciously blinked them away. "No. Never." She wanted to say more but she couldn't speak. Her throat was clogged with a blockade of tears and anger and sadness that had been building within her for months. "I just - " she choked out finally. "I just need to finish this year. Then everything will be okay." She smiled weakly, hoping it would be enough.

Ginny's brows were drawn tightly together, but she said nothing other than, "Okay then. Goodnight, Hermione."

Hermione slumped into her pillows. She had never imagined that this year would be so. Of course, she'd known it would be worlds different from the years spent within these walls with Harry and Ron, but still...It all seemed so long ago that they had been naive eleven year olds, starting here for the first time, and their biggest concern had been Malfoy and his cronies - or in her case, exams. She chuckled softly. Nothing had changed really, then, she supposed.

She lay there, thinking about her friends, and the people who loved her, and where she wanted to be, and slowly she drifted into slumber once more.

Her dreams were filled with warmth, love, and a dark haired girl, whose face she couldn't remember when she woke up.