Seven-Seven

The train moved away from King's Cross station, slowly gathering pace. Hermione settled back into her seat, watching as the light of the station faded away. She hadn't been back to London since the start of the school year, preferring to spend her holidays with the other teaching staff at Hogwarts.

Now the staff had gone home after a week away from the hustle and bustle of their work, marking OWL papers and NEWT papers. Minerva would be sending the results out in two weeks time for the NEWTs, and three for the OWLs.

A huge explosion rocked the carriage, and many in the compartment screamed as the train screeched to a halt. Hermione leapt to her feet, squeezing through the rows of passengers on their feet or fallen to the floor, to look out. There were screams of pain and panic.

"We need to get out!" called someone. "What was that?"

"A bomb!" cried someone else, their voice shaky. Someone started banging at the doors and windows, and Hermione drew her wand. She had been in situations similar to this, but not in the Muggle world.

"Alohomora!" she whispered, sending the unlocking spell to the door of the underground carriage. The door swung open and everyone poured out onto the track.

Up ahead of them the lights from mobile phones shone in the darkness of the tunnel, and there was the sickening smell of burning rubber. Smoke poured everywhere, and Hermione raised her jumper over her face to keep the smoke away. People coughed loudly, trying to get the smoke away with their hands, but others copied Hermione.

"We have to get out! Go back to King's Cross!" yelled a man behind Hermione, his mobile phone raised. Despite himself he was taking pictures, to record the moment forever.

"No! There's an exit point further along," argued a woman, the light of her phone accenting the features of her terrified face. "It's quicker!"

She began to walk along the tunnel, the passengers following her. Hermione walked alongside the woman, her wand drawn. She didn't care if people saw her - this was an emergency.

The flow of people walking along towards the exit faltered as they reached the carriage that had exploded. A huge hole was blasted into the side of the train, and bodies alive and dead lay everywhere. Hermione forced herself to look, her mind bringing back memories of battles she had fought in, and she could not go on. Others looked away, terrified.

"Healing spell.. healing spell..." muttered Hermione, crouching down. The woman had lost an arm, and her face was burnt. Her clothes were blackened and she bled everywhere. Hermione was glad for her sake that she was unconscious. She must have been blasted out of the train onto the tracks.

Hermione could not re-attach or re-grow arms, but she did her best for the woman. She healed the cuts and soothed the burn, her eyes leaking tears she could not end.

And then, it seemed like hours, the ambulance crews arrived.

"You shouldn't be down here! You should get out!"

"I can help these people!" whispered Hermione, her voice breaking. A man wrapped a blanket around the young woman, his torch showing that it was silvery. She shivered as he took her back up to the surface, and went to stand with the crowd of other passengers who had left the area.

"Terrorists," said someone.

"No..." replied someone else, but somehow they knew they were wrong.

"I need to phone my parents..." said Hermione quietly. "I need a phone..."

A man handed his mobile to Hermione, who dialled her number shakily, then she held it to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Mum, it's Hermione. I'm in London..."

"London!" exclaimed Mrs Granger in shock. "But..."

"I was on the train from King's Cross. It exploded!"

"Are you in hospital, are you alright?"

"Mum, I'm... I'm fine. A little shaken, perhaps..."

"Oh, dear..." whispered Mrs Granger. "Oh God..."

"I'm coming home as soon as I can get out of London," promised Hermione. "I have to phone Ron and Harry too."

"You do that. I love you."

"Love you too, Mum."

Hermione ended the call, then dialled her boyfriend and his flatmate. They knew she was in London. The clock on Mrs Weasley's wall would have said 'Mortal Peril'. Molly had probably phoned Ron and Harry a long time ago.

"Hermione?" asked Ron's worried voice, picking up the phone.

"It's me, Ron."

"Oh God! You're alive!" despite herself, Hermione laughed.

"Yes, I'm alive. Oh God. The train..."

"Molly spoke to us, and Harry put the fellytision on..."

"I'm okay, Ron, I'm okay. Someone else needs to use the phone..."

A blonde was standing next to her with a terrified look on her face.

"Bye, Hermione."

"Bye."

Oh God. That was all Hermione could think. She had been so lucky. And just an hour ago, or two maybe... she had been so happy. The wizard and Muggle Olympics, and the Paralympics, they were coming to London. But now... death. Terrorism. It was Muggle terrorists, but they could exert as much damage as wizards. She was lucky.

Hermione placed her wand back into her pocket. The Obliviators could sort out the problem. She couldn't... She had to go home.

A red bus pulled up, and police directed a group of them on board. She followed the crowd, just grateful to be alive. Shaken, but unhurt.