The Third Wizarding War: Salvation
It’s been four months since Hermione has seen anybody. It’s been two months that she’s been in the woods, with Harry’s blood still under her nails and tears in her eyes. She’s terrified, and there’s fear in her bones when she wakes, when she breathes, when she sleeps. Her heart is a pendulum in her chest, a wild thrum of chaos that swings with the weight of a church bell. Sometimes it beats so hard that she thinks her ribs will crack wide open and she’ll splinter from the inside out.
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