The breaking point
It has been six days. Six days of walking without direction, six days of wandering aimlessly hoping beyond hope that she finds a way out of this god forsaken forest.
Two days without food. One day without water.
She tried to ration the food and water, to make it last as long as possible. But its all gone now, and Hermione cannot bring herself to take another step. The exhaustion has caught up with her, and the constant grating presence of the ravens is getting on her last nerves. She collapses to the forest floor, cushioned by the moss and fallen leaves. Her entire body aches and the simple act of breathing seems to drain her of energy. She lays there, trembling, before drifting into a restless slumber.
Hermione is woken up by the ravens cawing, circling over her like vultures. She struggles to focus her eyes, how long has she been out for? An hour, a day? It is impossible to tell. As she fights to sit up with labored breathing, all she can feel is the gnawing pains of hunger and her throat screaming in thirst.
She falls back onto the forest floor but tries to get up onto her knees one more time. It’s a painstaking process, but before long she is kneeling and leaning onto her hands. She closes her eyes as she tries to catch her breath. Every intake of air hurts, and every time she breathes out she feels the exhaustion settling deeper into her bones.
Hermione is broken out of her trance like state by a cold hand cradling her cheek. It moves to her chin and wrenches her head up to look at the owner. Before her stands the woman from four days ago. The one who gifted her water and food, before leaving her abandoned in a swarm of ravens.
Her voice is soft as she speaks.
“You’ve done well. I have seen others break so much quicker, their minds giving up on them. But you have kept fighting. I wonder, what is it that drives you? Hope, or just stubbornness? Perhaps you’re simply unwilling to go without a fight.”
The woman lets out a quiet hum as she contemplates.
“Hm, yes I think you’re simply unwilling to go without a fight. Unwilling to let go as long as there is still anything left of you. Proud until the end, aren’t you?”
She lets go of Hermione’s face and places it on her shoulder, wrapping her in a tight embrace. An anchor, something to lean on. To draw some strength. And Hermione is so very tired.
As her eyes glide shut once more, the ravens begin to circle the two and they disappear in a cloud of black smoke.