@hvrtgold: H̶e̶r̶m̶i̶o̶n̶e̶ ̶G̶r̶a̶n̶g̶e̶r̶
BRUNETTE curls stuck to her forehead as her chest heaved from effort. her breathing was slightly ragged and the cut on her cheek was easy to spot. she drew her wand back, letting it drop back to her side and regarded the figure. she was used to using spells against enemies as a matter of self-defense, but had never intentionally hurt anyone before. the unconscious figure at her feet had simply been knocked out as she intended, and she felt a sense of pride as usual. malfoy’s voice interrupted her thoughts, and the witch turned to face him. “ does it matter ? ” then, she sighed as she realized it was possible that he was being genuine. “ unforgivable curse, but i'm fine. i deflected it. ”
˜”*°•. The nightmarish chamber of echoes and secrets was finally revealing itself; unleashing its every ugliness, unraveling into an inescapable storm. It swallowed e̲v̲e̲r̲y̲o̲n̲e̲; reached for every living person, grabbed them, twisted them, and became one with them. He’d seen it. He’d witnessed the 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 in these people’s eyes, he’d felt the madness enveloping the manor. But the madness hadn’t ended there; it’d spread like wildfire across houses and lands, conquered every corner of the world in the name of purity. People he’d spent hours upon hours with, suddenly tortured in the lunatics’ hands, attacked out of nowhere, murdered. Their existence, a p͎o͎l͎l͎u͎t͎i͎o͎n͎ that needed to be cleansed. So, this ? This duel between Hermione and the wizard ? It wasn’t uncommon; it wasn’t pleasant either, though. Wars of words and taunting remarks were one thing. Actual fights aiming at death, though ? They were different. And they were 𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚏𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐.
And so, her hostile stance, her words didn’t surprise him; he was one of them, after all, wasn’t he ? One of the lunatics. The Death Eaters. One of the assailants of every mudblood, every bloodtraitor, every inferior. He wasn’t to be trusted; and yet, she’d spoken again. Attempted to fill the overgrowing silence, offer an honest response. And merely feed his own need to return the favor in the meantime. ❝ Going that way is a deathtrap. You won’t last a second. ❞ Advice; a return of the favor or a desperate attempt to still choose a side ? Either way, the words had escaped his lips impulsive, uncontrollable; the realisation of having spoken them coming way too late. ❝ They know.❞