The trio had appeared in a narrow alleyway behind the theater. Harry could see at least a hundred people filing into the large building. There was a sign above the street that said ‘Cinderella’ and another next to it that said ‘Romeo and Juliet’.
“Hey, Parvati, which one are we seeing?” he asked her while still looking into the crowd.
“Romeo and Juliet, Harry.”
There was a sudden ‘pop’ that made Harry and Seamus jump. “Candy! Glad you could come. We’re seeing Romeo and Juliet and it starts in fifteen minutes so lets get a move on.” Parvati shoved Harry and Seamus into the large, glass double doors.
There was an extremely large and noisy crowd inside. Muggles were everywhere. It was as if the wizarding world would eventually be swallowed whole by them all. There were some buying drinks and snacks, others were casually blabbering on and on, and then some were heading through large, oak double doors.
Harry looked around until something caught his eye. A girl that looked about his age, her hair pulled up in a very fashionable bun. For a moment he thought it was Hermione, but he blinked and she was gone.
They decided to get some candy then headed through the doors that said ‘Romeo and Juliet’ over them.
They found their seats, which were stationed in the very back of the immense room. The ceiling was covered in a deep navy blue and all along the wall and going down to the stage were red chairs. And at the bottom was a pearl-black stage were two silk-red curtains that stretched from the ceiling to the stage.
Harry glanced around the room. He couldn’t remember the last time he was around so many muggles. The wizarding world seemed so much more advanced than this one.
Again something caught his eye. It was the girl from earlier and she was sitting two seats away from him. This time he was sure that she was Hermione, her hair and eyes were precisely the way he remembered them from school.
Harry desperately wanted to go talk to her, but he couldn’t. He soon noticed who was separating them. It was a boy; they were making small talk so obviously something was between them. He knew it would be awkward to talk to her. He didn’t even know if she would recognize him.
He looked to his other side; Candy was sitting there. Her sand-blonde hair falling to her shoulders, her light blue eyes fixed on the curtain. He started to make a conversation, but the lights suddenly dimmed. He heard everyone clapping and started to himself as he settled back into his chair. The curtains rose and the play began.
Harry was never really interested in romance genres. He didn’t find them interesting. So during the next few hours he sat back and tried sleep. He eventually succeeded, and the dream that returned scared him.
It was still dark, and the red liquid was still soaking under his feet.
“Your precious Potter won’t save you now, he’s done for, finished,” came the slithery voice. It sent a shiver down Harry’s spine.
“What are you talking about. He’s not gone.”
“You should learn to pick your friends better little girl, you never know when they’ll desert you. I thought you of all people would know.”
“LIAR!” Harry heard a small slap that he hadn’t heard before, then the gasp. He again knew that whoever it was, was crying.
“DON’T call me a liar little girl. You know nothing of what I’ve been through. You know nothing of what that Potter’s done to me.”
Harry heard the shrill scream again and then the flash of green light. Just as before, but the picture didn’t fade, he didn’t wake up. It just kept going.
“HARRY!” screamed the girl. Harry moved forward, everything was coming into view.
Harry heard clapping once more and he opened his eyes. The play was over; the red curtains were closing. He sat up and clapped along with the others, he didn’t want to seem rude.
They all rose to their feet and walked out of the massive room.
“Did you like it Harry?” Parvati asked.
Harry was kind of in a daze, thinking about the reoccurring dream.
“Harry?” Candy called. He immediately shot out of the stupor. He had never heard her talk before.
Hermione knew Harry was there. She didn’t want to talk to him. She wasn’t still mad at him, who holds a grudge for five years. Hermione didn’t want to apologize. She had so many things to say she was sorry for. For not speaking to him since they left Hogwarts, for being mad at him, for dumping him in sixth year. She had a list stored in her head with a thousand things she could say sorry for.
“Wasn’t that great?” Bob said. He was Hermione’s boyfriend.
“Yeah,” Lavender added, “Tragedy, romance, it’s the perfect play. Who cares if it was written by a dead muggle?
“Whatever,” Dean came in. Dean was now Lavender’s boyfriend.
Hermione didn’t say anything until she arrived at her house, and then it was only to herself.
“I saw a lot of people today, Cookie,” she told her cat. Cookie was Crookshanks’s daughter. Crookshanks wasn’t around anymore so Hermione kept his daughter as a memory. Hermione loved Cookie just as much as Crookshanks just the same.
“The play was great, too. I saw Parvati, Dean, Lav, Seamus, I even saw Harry. Yeah, I think this is going to be the start of a new era.”
It was late, quite late. When Hermione checked her watch it said 10:42. “Well, I guess I better get to sleep.”
She put Cookie on the ground and headed down the peach-carpeted hallway. She then changed into her pajamas, a spaghetti-strap tank top and plaid pants, and hopped into bed. It wasn’t until a few minutes later that she felt the orange cat jump onto her bed and curl up at the foot of it.
The clock ticked quietly, and with twelve loud gongs, the two hands landed on the XII that sat atop the face. This signaled the start of the new day.
At that precise moment, as if on cue, a shadowy figure made form outside of the window. It slithered inside and stood at the foot of Hermione’s bed. Cookie woke abruptly, hissing and patting Hermione’s feet with its paw. Trying desperately to wake her. Nothing was working. Hermione was too fast asleep to be awoken by a cat.
Slowly, the figure crept to the side of Hermione’s bed where it could look down on her face. It raised its wand and out of it uncoiled a strong rope. The rope formed around Hermione’s body and squeezed tight. Hermione woke up in a startling position. Ropes bound her legs and arms unbearably tight to her body.
Before she yell for help, or even shriek in pain, more of the lengthy, coarse rope had gagged her. Her eyes widened in shock as the enshadowed person pulled out its wand once more and muttered ‘Wingardium Leviosa’ and floated Hermione over to him.
She fell into whoever it was’s arms. It then apparated quite quickly. All the while, Hermione was clueless to what was going on. Of course she knew that she was being kid-napped, but why? Why would someone want to kid-nap her? It was all so baffling.
Ring…Ring…Ring…”Come on, Hermione. Pick up the damn phone, this is an emergency.” It was Lavender, “You won’t believe what happened last night!”
Not long after there were several very loud knocks on Hermione’s front door. And not long after the knocks had finished did Lavender discover that the door was unlocked. She let herself in under the circumstances.
“Hermione?” she called into the sun-lit room, “Hey, Hermione, ya there?” There was still no answer.
Lavender walked a few paces forward. There was no sound, just a bone-chilling silence. (Maybe she’s still sleeping.) she wondered. Lavender decided to check Hermione’s bedroom.
There was a small click as Lavender opened the door to the petite, dim room. She peered inside. Everything was as it was supposed to be. The four-poster bed was neatly made, nothing was out of order, there was a large shelf of books over the window, it seemed so much like Hermione that Lavender shuddered to think they weren’t in school.
Lavender went down and sat on the bed. Cookie crawled from underneath it, shivering.
“Aw, poor kitty. What’s the matter?” Lavender didn’t need to be able to speak with cats to see that it was holding something in its mouth. Lavender took the piece of paper. She held it in her hands for a while, thinking. (What if this is something private? What if it’s a love note?) Lavender smiled at the thought of Hermione in love and decided to open it. The smile that seemed glued to her face widened when she read the first line, but it slowly descended as she read the scrawls of writing that could not possibly be Hermione’s:
Dear Mr. Potter,
How are you this lovely night? The perfect rays of the full moon had fallen on her face as she slept peacefully, not knowing that I was watching her from the side. Her sleek brown hair pulled up into a ponytail, her pale skin so soft when it was touched. I think you know whom I’m talking about.
Yes, Miss Hermione Granger is her name I believe. And you don’t know how much fun it will be to torture her. At any mere moment I could whisk her away from this world, and she won’t be able to do anything to save herself.
Oh, it’s been so long since I’ve been able to kill someone. I’ve been longing to do it for quite sometime. You should see her now. Ropes bound tightly to her, face now paler than the moon as I write this. You have no idea how much pain she feels write now.
If you do indeed wish her safe return, come to me. Sacrifice yourself in the name of love and friendship. Once more there shall be n o one to stop me from overtaking this idiotic world. If you do choose to remain there, I hope you pray that God will take her instead of Satan. I don’t see why he would though. If you decide to come you have until September 1st. That is three months this Sunday. That is three months to prepare. That is three months to track me down and three months to save her.
I believe you know
P.S. I’ll be waiting.
The grin that had once sat on Lavender’s face had vanished completely, replaced with a huge whole. In awe Lavender sat, staring at the letter, not knowing what to do. Her best friend was in danger. The letter had been for Harry. You-Know-Who had obviously written it.
Lavender came to her senses mere seconds later. She raced into the living room where, in the corner, sat a small wooden fireplace.
Lavender looked into the fire and called “HARRY!”