The End Is The Beginning Is The End

‘I shouldn’t have survived, I should be dead.  I should be dead, I should be dead.’

Hermione squinted, trying to make out the woman talking.  Her voice was low, and she spoke a mile a minute, but she knew it was a female.

Forgetting Lucius—and not even noticing that he was no longer holding her—she crossed her arms and took a little step forward.

The first person she saw was a tall man with short black hair and a beard.  He could have been in his thirties or forties or fifties, she couldn’t tell.  He was walking behind a woman, dressed in rags and barefoot.  She was deplorably thin, and emaciated.  Like someone who had been denied food for too long.

She was muttering, talking to herself, sometimes yelling.

And she kept repeating the same thing.

‘I shouldn’t be alive, It should have been me It should have been me.’

Hermione took another step forward, and then another.

And then she realized…she knew her.

‘….Proffessor?’

As if she didn’t hear her, Professor Trewalney continued to mutter to herself, over and over.

Hermione stopped, because in front of her was a frozen lake, and she wasn’t sure how stable it was.

The man behind her stopped, but the Professor kept walking.

Hermione’s jaw dropped.  She glanced back at Mr. Malfoy, who watched her with a face devoid of emotion or feeling.

‘Stop it.’  She took a step forward, and said more loudly, because the wind was howling now, whipping her hair all over the place, ‘You have to stop her!  Get your guy to pull her back!’

Lucius shrugged, ‘I don’t like to yell, Ms. Granger and I doubt he will hear me.’

She stared at him in horror. 

‘You’re not human,’ she whispered, her voice sounding faraway, ‘You brought me here, because she’s going to fall through the ice and die, and you wanted me to see this.’

Slowly her mind processed this, but it was unable to process him

‘You’re a monster.’

He allowed a slow smile to light up his face, ‘How many times must I tell you, Ms. Granger?  It is all semantics, truly.’

She turned around and took a step forward.  She tried to scream but her voice came out hoarse, ‘Professor, you have to turn back!’

She continued to walk towards her, babbling to herself.

Everything was blurry.  She wasn’t crying, was she?

She wiped her face only to find her tears were frozen, so she gave up.

Teeth chattering, she moved as close as she could to the ice, ‘PROFESSOR, STOP!’

‘….should have died, shouldn’t be alive….’

There was something like a loud crack, and Hermione screamed.

The woman fell through the ice, and she fell to her knees.

She heard the sound of snow crunching.

A gentle hand on her shoulder, and his mouth was so close to her she could feel his no good hot breath on her cheek as he spoke, ‘If you told me what I wished to know, that woman would be alive.’

Hermione turned and glared at him.  She sprung to her feet and slapped him across the face, so loudly it made a crack.

And then she turned and ran onto the ice. 

She could still be alive.

There was the sound of screaming but she didn’t stop.  Hermione could see the professor’s body, moving beneath the ice. She looked terrified.  She frantically banged on the ice.

Hermione dropped to her knees and began to punch the ice, and it began to crack.

‘Hold on!’ She screamed, her voice hoarse, ‘I’ll save you!’

Wildly she kept hitting the ice, even when the Professor stopped moving.

Even when she saw her body begin to sink, she still began to hit the ice.

‘Come back!’ She sobbed, ‘I’ll save you!’

But she was gone, and Hermione fell back, and held her face in her hands.

Suddenly, she felt her windpipe close.  She couldn’t breathe.

And she was floating.  Higher and higher.

Lucius stood beneath her, hovering above the ice, glaring at her.  She kicked and screamed, and then suddenly the spell ended and she was falling.  She hit the ice hard, and lay there for several moments.

He pointed his wand down at her, and hissed, ‘CRUCIATUS!’

‘Do—AHHHHH!’ she screamed, her whole body shaking, as agonizng pain, like red hot pokers, stabbed and pierced her from all over.

It stopped, and she lay there, gasping for air, trying to get away from him, crawling, she wanted to die, she wanted—

‘CRUCIATUS!’

She shook, and she screamed, and she begged for him to stop. 

But he kept attacking.

Until finally, she couldn’t see anything, or feel anything, everything blended together, and she was floating….

Like Professor Trewalney.

And all thought left her.