hermione jean granger. (
brainiest) wrote in
eachdraidh2014-07-15 03:26 am
( video ; seelie + unseelie )
(ooc: link to a video representation here! tw for torture/blood)
THE DREAM;
THE DREAM;
[ It starts of as nothing more than blackness and screaming, the sounds flickering desperately and the panicked breathing soon taking over. When Hermione remembers this moment it's the pain that surfaces first, then the panic, then the horror of her memories, but it takes so, so long for the memories to crawl out and be more than just echoed sounds.ADDED ABOUT AN HOUR LATER, text;
Then there are visions, flashes of a face bearing into her own, whispering to her and a wand moving in front of her eyes, the sound of a curse echoing around her body as she screams with the pain, twitching. Her vision swims, now, from the agony, even as she lies through her teeth - and she is lying, desperately, not expecting to be believed but relishing the fact that even now, when she's on her back on a cold floor with a witch trying to Crucio her to death, she can protect her best friends.
It doesn't take long for the other woman to come back and take over Hermione's light of sight completely, leaning close and shouting in her face even as she tries to bite back desperate sobs. It's almost impossible, not with the ravaging pain that's taking over her, and it's not until the woman moves to the side and jerks forward, body twitching as she does something out of Hermione's vision but she still screams, body lurching and everything twisting as she tries to get away.
Everything is burning pain and agony and there's nothing she can do but breathe and try to keep going, despite her tears, desperate sobs that overtake the entire nightmare. The one word that echoes, over and over, is Mudblood; mudblood, mudblood, each hiss like a stab to her heart and another cut to her body.
Eventually, finally, the screaming is over, her voice is hoarse, and she's left just... Staring. Her gaze is a little fuzzy and distant, a little lost, and her hands twitch a little, her body readjusting to it's pain threshold being pushed too far, too fast, pulling all her energy out of her and leaving her worse for it. Eventually there are more whispered shouts behind her and a hand lifts, grabbing her, a knife pressed to her throat and her best friends in front of her, their lives on the line again and she'd failed --
and then she wakes up. ]
I don't suppose there's any way to get rid of this, is there? I'm sorry for anyone who had to see that. I'm truly sorry.

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Hey there, witchy boo. Look, you made it all in one piece. That is so nifty. Gotta learn that. But, comfort first. Does someone want a Stilinski hug? Huh? Because I can offer that. Right here. Fresh Stilinski.
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Thank you, Stiles. Do I get to give you a silly nickname now?
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He laughs a little at the question, shrugging before he lets his hands slide free.]
Kind of figured my name was silly enough. But hey, if you've got something else in your cauldron, drop it on me.
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I don't know if Stiles is any sillier than Hermione... [ She's smiling, though, feeling better already. ] I wonder what would match 'Witchy Boo'.
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[If there was one thing Stiles was good at, it was running his mouth. He gave her arms a pat as she moved out of the hug, following it with a smile as he went to go pour her a cup of tea.]
I wasn't sure what to get you for a dessert, so I figured you could just ask them yourself if you wanted something.
[Them being the two pixies that fluttered down from the top of one of the bookshelves, coming over and hovering in front of her with little sympathetic looks on their tiny faces.]
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[ She goes with him, moving and settling down with the tea, lifting it to her mouth and just... Sipping. She can focus on that, on pulling the threads of herself back together, for as long as she can. ]
I'm fine for now, thank you - all of you. [ She smiles at the pixies, trying to look happier. ]
Maybe I'll call you 'prat' and cut to the chase?
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[He's not pouring a cup for himself because eww, tea, but he'll sit down across from her and offer her an ear for chatting, if she wants.]
Is that like British for brat? Because I'm offended. Highly. I'm way beyond my brat stage. I'm leaning more into being a jerk, I think.
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[ And, no, she hadn't appreciated it then either. Still, she is rather pleased with the tea and she tries not to look as smirk-y as she's sure she is. ]
Maybe a litte, but it's a term of endearment. Promise.
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[A wide grin followed that and he sat back, arms draped over the chair as he looked at her. Well, she looked better than she had right after she'd gotten here and he could only imagine what she'd looked like after the memory. Maybe he was doing his job right.]
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Prat it is, then. Maybe Wizzy Prat...
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[In fact, she was downright chummy, having been more than informative when they'd first talked and she'd been helping him along with a few tweaks to things. Who couldn't like her?]
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[God, had she met him?]
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A little bit of that. Also a bit of this.
[ And she taps her wrist, the scarred one, almost absently. ]
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You got out of it, though. You're okay, right? That's what matters in the end, Hermione.
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There's nothing wrong with being smart, Hermione. You should talk to a friend of mine, Lydia. One of the smartest people I know and she doesn't let anyone give her shit for it.
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