The End Is The Beginning Is The End

‘Hermione, I thought I told you to come down to eat!’

Still not looking up from her book, Hermione distractedly replied, ‘In a minute!’

She was reading up on magical creatures, when suddenly the book was pulled out of her hands.

‘Hey—‘

She looked up at her mother, who had the same curly light brown hair as herself.

And her mother had even less patience than herself.

‘Y-yes?’

‘You said the same thing half an hour ago.  Now, darling, you know how I cherish these dinners since you are gone all year…’

She hastily scrambled to her legs, not wanting to deal with her mothers temper.  So down the stairs she went. 

‘Wake up.’

Frowning, Hermione looked around.  But her mother wasn’t there.

‘Mom?’

‘I think she’s overcome the fever—‘

Again, she jerked around.

What—

She took a step, and instead of landing on the stairs she found herself falling into a dark void…

-__

Hermione was dizzy.

Confused.

Her mouth was dry, like cotton.  And every inch of her body seemed to hurt.

She groaned.  And that hurt as well.

Carefully she turned her head from side to side, wincing, in order to better  study her surroundings.

She was laying in a small room, with no windows.  She lay on a full sized bed.  The walls had several intricate scrolls covering them.

Runes?

It was an odd angle to examine them from, but yes, they looked like some sort of spell.  Strange.  She couldn’t recognize them.

To her immediate left was a bed side table, and on it she saw several bottles, all unmarked. 

Where was she?

How did she get here?

Groaning, she tried to sit up but collapsed back against the headboard.  It hurt, and her body protested the movement.

It even hurt to think, but she had to.

Think….

Before this she remembered she was outside, camping…some people showed up….

And then…

There was a girl…

Her stomach began to churn with sickness.

That’s right.  Hestia.  She’d tortured her.

Was she still with that crazy awful girl? 

Who knew.

I need to get out of here.

But how could she get anywhere when she could hardly move?

She would not cry, even though she wanted to.  She needed to be strong. 

She thought back to her dream.  It had been so long since she had dreamt of her mother.  Her mother would want her to stay strong.

So.

Deep breath, Hermione. 

You can do this.

It will be okay.

But still…

How could she get away when she could hardly move…?

__





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