When they arrived at the veranda, Malfoy immediately conjured a chair and seated himself, flicking open a newspaper. The front page story was about a new monument in honor of Voldemort. It had been unveiled in Diagon Alley. Hermione stood awkwardly beside the doorway, wondering where to go.
She glanced over at Malfoy and started to open her mouth to ask a question, but it was like her body swallowed it before she could force the words out.
She couldn't initiate conversation.
She stared out bitterly at the hedge maze. She supposed she would just go and wander about aimlessly.
She started walking away but as she did so, a faint sense of discomfort crept over her. She looked up, and took in the open, grey sky...
Her heart seemed to abruptly stall.
It was as though all the oxygen and sound that existed were abruptly sucked away, and there was simply a void of vast endlessness before her.
There was no air.
She felt like she were suffocating. Her heart started pounding. Beating faster and faster. She could hear it.
She could see the steps. The gravel. The hedges.
It felt like…
Nothing.
As though the universe ended at her toes.
If she stepped forward another inch, she'd fall into it.
She froze. She tried to move but just trembled and couldn't. She bit her lip. Trying to breathe. Trying to force herself to walk forward.
It was so — open.
She shut her eyes.
It was just in her head. It was
She fought to breathe. Dragging in a series of sharp, gasping breaths as she struggled to think.
She'd been alright yesterday. She'd been so horrified and angry. She'd run several miles. But now—
She couldn't—
It was all so much.
She didn't remember the world feeling so wide before. The sky was so...high. The paths just went on and on. She didn't know where they ended.
Her hands started shaking and twitching as she thought about it. She was going to be sick.
She wanted to go back to her room.
She wanted to press herself into a corner and feel walls against her.
She stared down at her feet and felt tears pricking the corners of her eyes. Panic was rising up through her like a tide. Her heart kept going faster and faster. It felt like a fluttering bird caged inside her chest, beating itself to death as it tried to escape.
Hermione pressed her hands over her mouth and tried to keep from hyperventilating.
A sharp sound abruptly caught her attention, and she looked over to find Malfoy was gripping his newspaper so tightly his knuckles were white. His hands were shaking faintly.
She gasped and stumbled away.
“Sorry — sorry—,” she stammered in terror. “I'm going—“
She only made it a few feet before her legs refused to carry her further.
She was afraid of being near Malfoy, but even he didn't supercede the terror that swallowed her as she tried to walk forward. Her lungs felt like all the air had been pressed out of them. She opened her mouth and tried to gasp for breath. It wouldn't go in.
The terror was sinking into her as though a creature had slid its claws into her back. Dragging them down her spine. Tearing her open. Exposing all the muscles and nerves and bones to the cold winter air, and she was dying.
She couldn't breathe.
The world felt like it was tilting sideways.
There were needles sinking into her hands and arms.
All she could see was the open—
She couldn't stop shaking. Couldn't stop panicking. She couldn't go—
It was so open. A void. Nothing. Nothing. Forever. She was all alone in it.
Not even walls. Nothing.
She could scream forever. No sound.
No one would come.
There was darkness eating up the sky.
Then there'd be nothing.
No one would come.
She couldn't—
“Stop,” was suddenly growled from behind her.
Reality crashed down on her like a flood. She started and looked back. Malfoy was pale-faced, and his eyes were flashing as he stared at her.
“You're required to be outside. You are not required to go traipsing off. Do not give yourself a mental breakdown that compromises my access to your memories.”
His face twisted slightly as he kept looking at her. Drawing his wand, he conjured another chair.
“Sit. And calm down,” he commanded in an icy tone.
Hermione dragged in a deep breath and let her feet carry her over. Trying not to dwell on the flood of relief that came over her. She seated herself and stared down at her hands as she worked to regain control of her breathing.
She was in a chair. She was in a chair next to Malfoy. She was not in a void. There wasn't a void. There was marble under her feet. She didn't have to go anywhere. She was in a chair.
She inhaled slowly. To a count of four.
Exhale, through her mouth. To a count of six.
In and out.
Again and again.
She was in a chair. She didn't have to go anywhere.
Her heart slowly stopped pounding, but her whole chest hurt.
Once her chest's stuttering eased, she tried to force her fingers to stop twitching. They wouldn't, so she sat on them.
As her mind fully cleared from her panic, a lash of bitter despair struck her.
She was broken.
She was.
There was no point in trying to deny it.