Nothing is real...
Follow me he said, and his voice had echoed in her mind so distant. Maybe it was just a fragment of her imagination…
And she did; she followed him –straight into a place where there was only darkness.
Hermione let herself wander around. Her mind, so analytical, as befitting the brightest witch of her age, quickly sought to identify the weak spots of this place. Was there any light she could peruse, since her wand seemed to be irrevocably lost?
The girl swallowed, trying to disregard the crippling fear she felt. Darkness was her own weak spot, and he knew it well.
Her hands faltered for a moment; but then they extended, trying to get a feel of what was in front of her. But she only caught air, and then something wet, that upon close inspection held the metallic scent of blood.
And then, the voices started.
Hermione, cried Harry.
Mione, help– said Ron.
Baby, don’t do this– her parents whispered.
I want to die, leave me be– her husband muttered –Severus, with the velvety voice, that made Hermione wonder whether this was real.
Fleeting images started flashing before her eyes: eyes of a grim future, blood and severed members and lifeless gazes upon her, from all the people she loved. And to her surprise, most of them included Severus.
Severus.
Severus–
No.
“This isn’t real!” Hermione screamed until her voice was raw, to the void in front of her. It all felt real, but she tried not to ponder too much on it. She started walking in the dark, past the scary visions, disregarding the blood and the wails and the screams, until–
“You found me,” Severus’ voice echoed again, and she opened her eyes, to find him cradling her shaking body into his arms. She was unabashedly crying now, her sobs muffled as she hid her face against his black robes.
Surprisingly enough, Hermione felt a soft kiss on the top of her head.
“Sweet girl,” he murmured so quietly she wasn’t even sure she heard correctly, making Hermione think that this was yet another attempt to disorient her. Severus had taken it upon him to teach her Legilimency, before she set out with her boys. It would be an additional protection against anyone that might try to attack her; even without her wand, she could slip into someone’s mind and take what she needed, or manipulate them accordingly.
Someone who knows about Legilimency can set up obstacles to distract you from entering their mind, he had warned her. You might find yourself into an illusion, and you need to start preparing for such an eventuality. And so, she had found herself living a nightmare while trying to get past her husband’s defences.
Hermione, crying and shaking, was in no rush to leave the temporary comfort of his arms; but eventually, he pulled away in order to give her a glass of water and a potion for the headache that was threatening the corners of her existence already.
“Severus,” she eventually asked, ever the curious creature. “Why did you use such morbid images to distract me? You could have used something pleasant. It would have worked, too.”
Severus’ face, that she had learned to read during their short, forced marriage, clouded as he pondered for the correct answer.
“I am better in conjuring these images as my defence,” he eventually said, and Hermione’s heart clenched because apparently, he knew more pain and sorrow than he knew happiness. “Sewing a nightmare is quick and easy. Dreams take months, and mentally cost me a fortune.”
For a while, Hermione didn’t answer, as she really didn’t have words to convey her feelings about this statement. However, when they attempted to practice again and it was Hermione’s turn to present him with illusions in order to distract him, all she showed him was the kisses she hoped to give him, the touches she meant to receive, the lovemaking they’d do right, when they both survived what was coming ahead.