Inell's Fanfiction Archive

After it’s all over, Hermione lies in her bed unable to sleep. The sheets are tangled around her legs and the room is too warm and then too cold and then too warm once again. Her heart is still racing and her body is stretched tightly as if it might snap at any moment. She is alert and ready, her gaze looking from the ceiling to scan the shadows of the room and then back again. Her hair is wet from her shower, surrounding her face in a wild disarray with a few errant locks annoyingly get caught between her lips.

When she tries to sleep, she feels even more discontent and anxious. She closes her eyes and sees Harry with dirt on his face and his clothes askew and his hair even messier than normal. She sees Ron looking bewildered and scared beneath the brave veneer. She sees people running and hears their screams of fear and, in some cases, pain. She sees the Dark Mark lighting the sky like a beacon to those with darkness in their souls.

The reality of being in an attack is far different than she ever expected. In her mind, it was more orderly and people were prepared. Now, she knows the confusion, the fear, the uncertainty that was present all around her. She feels as though she didn’t do anything, as if she should have done something to help, but she’s not sure what she could have done. There had been no time to think of spells she had learned that might help. She had been so caught up in the chaos of the attack that she’d been unable to do anything as she’d planned in her mind should this situation occur. She knows, now, that she wasn’t ready.

She has a list of spells neatly written in her notebook. She knows them well and can perform them effortlessly. Harmless magic, really, but if it is used in a certain way it can provide adequate defense and as well as protection. There is darker magic, of course, some of which she knows even though those spells are not neatly written beside the others. During this attack, however, she hadn’t been able to think of anything except getting out alive.

Failure is not a word that Hermione accepts. It is for other people, perhaps, but never for herself. She never wants to hear it used against her, never wants to admit defeat, and refuses to believe there is anything, within reason, that she can’t eventually master with time, patience, and determination. Flying has been her only true failure, though she will not consider it such a thing because she knows one day she will confront that fear, as it is fear keeping her from succeeding at that task, and she will prove triumphant. She looks at failure as a means of learning what not to do ever again, to prepare herself to refocus, to determine what she needs to do to master a task.

Her failure tonight during the attack on the camp has left her shaken and feeling helpless. She hates that feeling. It drives her to get out of bed and open a text and learn the spells until she can recite them under the most extreme circumstances because she will never allow herself to be caught in such a way again. Instead, she lies in bed and thinks of Harry and Ron, of her own disheveled appearance when she looked in the mirror, of what went wrong with the many plans in her mind in case something like this happened.

Hermione decides that actually experiencing this kind of attack is something one can’t fathom until it happens. On paper, it is organized and things happen logically with an order that she finds comfortable and doesn’t fear. The reality is nothing like that. The utter pandemonium, the shrieks and screams, the magic so thick in the air, the surprise; these are all things that are impossible to anticipate until one is right in the midst of them. Now she knows, though, and will be ready if it happens again.

The Dark Mark flying in the sky above the camp is a vision that she knows will not fade away. One can never forget the first time they see evil. The mark, even more so than the men and possibly women running about in dark robes and masks, is a symbol intended to bring terror and fear into the hearts of those who see it.

Logically, Hermione knows it is foolish to give such power to the mark. It is like the name used for Voldemort and should mean nothing if one doesn’t allow it to scare them, but it is difficult to see it and not fear what it means. People have been injured, some have died, and she tries not to think what might have happened to her if Draco Malfoy, of all people, hadn’t warned them in time.

The mark means more than people wearing frightening masks to scare people. It is a symbol of Voldemort’s impending return; she knows this despite what others might say. It represents the beginning of something she has expected but hoped would never occur. It is a warning that Harry’s life, dear sweet Harry who deserves only happiness for what he has suffered in his life, is now in even more danger and that nothing will ever be the same.

Harry seems to know this, though he’s not spoken his fears aloud. She saw it in his eyes afterwards, so old despite his youth, and she knows he will need her more than ever before now. Her failure at the camp has shown her she’s not ready yet. They were lucky this time but might not be so lucky another.

It is her responsibility, unspoken amongst them, to learn the spells that will be helpful, to do the research necessary, and to teach them to Harry and Ron when the time is right. Ron is brilliant with plans, far more than she is, though she’d be loathe to admit it, and she knows he will step up when it is necessary. He lacks confidence in his abilities and it is a struggle for him to overcome his doubts, but they all have insecurities and she has faith he will be ready, prepared in his own way, should the time come.

There is something in the air, subtle and unnoticeable, that won’t let her sleep yet. The disorder of earlier has left her feeling irritated, in a way. She thrives on organization and logic so the chaos and madness of the unexpected attack has her out of sorts and unable to calm down. There are too many thoughts in her head, too many plans and worries, too much information vying for attention.

She hates not knowing what to expect.

The End