Fallen Saint

*

"I see it from another place right now
I'm coming home before I hit the ground
Run fast there I wanna be gone now"

Title: Smash

Album: Gutterflower (Goo Goo Dolls)

*

"I don´t remember much of the last few hours. I remember all the events, but the details are fuzzy. I remember suddenly awakening, my vision blurry and my lungs burning for oxygen. I remember the feeling of being trapped. I remember having to dig out of the ground, out of my coffin. I remember crawling out of the grave, dirty but alive. I remember wandering around for awhile, through a graveyard then into a forest. I remember being afraid, being alone. I remember being so tired I just wanted to collapse, but so afraid that I´d fall asleep and never wake up. I remember somehow finding my way into a forest. It seemed to be calling me. Then I found and followed you.

"I don´t remember anything before waking up. It´s just a black fuzziness," I spoke quietly, stroking the soft, golden hair of the unicorn´s neck. "I thought I was in some hellish world when I first woke up. Everything was so dark, so cold, but then I saw you," I sighed. "You´re too beautiful to be... wrong, bad."

The unicorn whined softly and shook its graceful neck. A sharp wind rustled the leaves, whistling as it wove through the trees. I have you it whined, a quiet hiss as leaves rolled across the ground. I glanced around quickly, looking for danger. I saw none, but the hairs on the back of my neck tickled, as if I was being watched. The unicorn snorted, pounding the ground with its foot, it seemed to be laughing.

I took a step away from the animal, but tripped on a raised root. I sprawled backwards and landed on my backside. My foot twisted in a way it wasn´t supposed to, and a crack echoed across the barren forest. I bit back a scream, digging my fingernails into the padded flesh of my palm. The unicorn laughed again, before it´s hair began to darken - it didn´t stop until its entire coat was raven. It reflected the moonlight for a moment, before the hairs began to smolder, and the unicorn dove into a shadowed area.

It´s once warm chocolate eyes flashed dangerously, and I began to crawl backwards. It snorted again, and smoke emitted from its nostrils. It´s horn, once a thing of beauty, looked lethal and frightening. Gathering my courage, I sprang up, ignoring the searing pain in my ankle, and ran. Moonbeams filtered in through the treetops and I heard the thing galloping behind me, effectively avoiding the patches of light.

Get in the open. Get in the open. The words echoed over and over in my mind, and I continued running until I was about to collapse. After a dozen forevers, I found my way out of the forest. I fell to my knees on the hard ground, letting the moon bathe me in light. The thing snorted once more before snarling and galloping away, back into the forest.

I continued crawling across the wide, barren field toward a huge cottage less than a mile from the edge of the forest. Smoke spiraled out of its chimney, and a jack-o-lantern sat on the steps in front of the cottage. A small garden enclosed with a shoddy picket fence was placed sloppily in the back, and for giant pumpkins grew on a monstrous vine. I inched forward, wincing each time my ankle bumped the ground.

The door of the cottage swung open, and light poured out. A moment later, a gigantic figure appeared silhouetted against the light, nearly blocking all of it.

"Who´s there?" a gruff voice called out through the darkness. I looked up to see the enormous shadow moving towards me. The ground vibrated with it´s every step, and I crouched low, my efforts to blend with the ground futile. The shadow reached down and grabbed my arm, yanking me up to my feet. I shrieked as my weight landed on my injured ankle, and white dots floated in the vision before everything went black.

*

My eyes fluttered open, my head felt groggy and my limbs heavy. I struggled to sit up and blinked my eyes rapidly to clear my vision. It was still late, that much was obvious, but the sun was just beginning to peak out over the forest. I knew all this because there was a window opposite my bed.

I looked around. The entire room seemed very white and sterile. Hospital, I realized. I heard voices arguing just outside the gray curtain that blocked my bed from view. I strained to hear them.

"...they deserve to know..."

"...how would you feel? ... won´t understand... too hard..."

"if we don´t... never forgive... grieving..."

"...shh... awake..."

Suddenly, the curtain was ripped back and an old man held it. He had soft, twinkling blue eyes and a reassuring smile. Another man stood behind the elder; his eyes were a warm brown, and though his features were young, his toffee colored hair was speckled with gray. He looked frustrated, possibly angry, but when his gaze landed on me his eyes softened.

"Are you feeling better?" the queer old man wearing a large, drab dress asked softly. His eyes danced amusedly, and his lips were curled ever so slightly - as if he knew something I didn´t.

I nodded, not quite afraid of these two men, but just wary. I noticed my ankle didn´t hurt, and I wiggled my toes slightly to find it was completely healed. I rotated it in a small circle, amazed at the speedy recovery.

"Can you please tell us what happened? All you can remember," Mr. Twinkle Eyes questioned, and I nodded, trying to figure out where to start.

"Well, I woke up underground - in a coffin, I think. I couldn´t see much, everything was so blurry, and it burned my lungs to breathe. I dug my way out, I think," I paused, remembering the cuts and bruises that covered my hands. Now, my hands were completely healed - there was no way to know I´d just crawled out of my grave.

"You dug your way out..." Mr. Twinkle Eyes prodded, and I returned to my monologue.

"I dug my way out, and I was in a big graveyard. It was really spooky, so I squeezed through the fence. I was just outside a big forest and I saw a -" I stopped, knowing they´d find me silly.

"What did you find?" the young man, who hadn´t spoke before, asked curiously. I turned sharply to him and studied his form. He was quite handsome for a - oh, thirty five year old or so - He must have noticed me staring, for he smiled timidly. His teeth were sharp and canine-like. I decided to call him Sharp Tooth, for lack of any other name.

"You´ll find it strange," I mumbled, blushing crimson.

"Try us," Sharp Tooth said softly, and I found myself wanting to believe him. Surely, I hadn´t imagined the unicorn.

"Well," I began uncertainly, "it was a unicorn. It was so pretty," I paused, letting the image resurface in my mind, "all gold and silver. I followed it through the woods on a small path, not even big enough for two people. After awhile, it stopped, as if sensing I needed to rest. I was so tired. I told it all about how I found it, and then the wind started blowing really hard. The unicorn snorted and stamped its foot. It seemed like it was laughing. Then it turned all black and started breathing fire. I ran, but tripped and hurt my ankle. I managed to crawl out into the field, and the unicorn (it had been chasing me) stopped where the shadows ended. Every time the moon hit it, it would start to burn. Then this big shadow monster grabbed me, and then I fainted," I finished in one breath, trying to keep all the other visions at bay. Especially those of waking up in a coffin - being buried alive.

It was really silent for a moment, and Sharp Tooth kept opening his mouth, as if to say something, but then would decide against it and snap his mouth shut. Mr. Twinkle Eyes just stared at me, lost in thought. My stomach grumbled loudly, and Mr. Twinkle Eyes grinned.

"I´ll send some food in for you. After you eat, we can talk again," he said and stood up. Sharp Tooth followed suite. They were halfway out the door before he paused, "Do you remember your name?"

I opened my mouth to answer, but found myself at a loss of who I was. I felt tears sting my eyes, and cursed myself for getting emotional. I shook my head indicating I didn´t, and he nodded slightly before leaving.

I laid back on my pillow; my eyes were heavy, begging for sleep. But I wouldn´t give in - the constant fear of never awakening plagued my entire being - waking up in a coffin does that to a person, I thought wryly. Was I always this sarcastic? Maybe --- I was dead.

The thought struck me hard, like a punch to the stomach. Until then, I hadn´t realized what waking up in a coffin meant - it meant I had died, and then someone brought me back. I had died. How? I wondered morbidly. It was strange, thinking of your own death so objectively.

A woman burst in, bustling around crazily before setting a tray with an assortment of breakfast foods on the bedside table beside me. She spoke to me, but I didn´t hear her. I couldn´t shake the thought - I had died. Died. As in, DEAD. As in, never coming back. But then, where was I? I can´t be home... in my world. It couldn´t be possible... or could it? Did I actually come back? Did someone bring me back? That´s just not possible. You live once - you die once. No second chances.

"Excuse me."

The words jarred me from my depressing spiral of thoughts. I looked at the speaker, somewhat surprised to see Mr. Twinkle Eyes back so soon. I looked out the window, shocked to find the sun high in the sky. I must have fallen asleep - I hadn´t been thinking for that long.

"What time is it?" I gushed, my eyes wide and frightened. Maybe time worked differently wherever I was.

"Nearly noon. You were asleep," Mr. Twinkle Eyes explained. I noticed Sharp Tooth hadn´t accompanied Mr. Twinkle Eyes. "Now, you´ve told us your story. Now, you´re probably wondering who I am," he waited until I nodded, which I did. "I´m Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

I nearly laughed out loud. Witchcraft and Wizardry? Rubbish for sure! He didn´t laugh, although he wasn´t angry either.

"Where am I?" I asked cautiously, not trying to offend Mr. Twinkle Eyes, but magic doesn´t exist at home - on Earth.

"You are at Hogwarts - it´s in Scotland," he explained. "Now, I´m quite serious about the magic. How do you think you got here?" he questioned, although it was obvious he knew the answer.

"I crawled," I answered, thinking of my adventure through the forest. He grinned and shook his head. His gray hair waved when his head moved.

"No, I mean, how do you think you got back - alive," he clarified and I shrugged. I had no idea where I was or how I got here. "Magic, of course!"

I didn´t want to argue with the only person to show me a bit of kindness, so I just shrugged. He seemed to accept that and continued his explanation.

"So, you have no idea who you are," he stated. "You are Hermione Granger - sixth year student at Hogwarts. You died last year - you were in your fifth year and were a prefect."

I interrupted, "How did I die?"

He looked somewhat taken aback. "You really want to know? I suppose I ought to tell you - it´s just... No, you´re quite right. You deserve to know," he seemed to be talking to himself, so I remained quiet. "You were killed by a very bad dark wizard called Voldemort. He left you as a - twisted - present for one of your best friends. He also gave you this scar," he pointed to my forehead, "and this one," he pointed to my left arm. I didn´t see anything through the fabric, but I hurriedly pulled back the sleeve. On the inside of my left forearm a hideous skull was cut into my skin - the scar was light pink and raised. I ran my fingers along the lines, before remembering the one on my head. I brought my fingers hesitantly to it, brushing them across the raised skin. I traced the lines - it was a V - no doubt it represented Voldemort.

"Why did he kill me?" I asked curiously. It was unbelievably weird talking about my death.

"He has an unfounded grudge with one of your best friends, and thought it´d be, er, amusing to leave your body as a Christmas gift," he said solemnly, the twinkle leaving his eyes.

"Is the friend okay? The person who received the, uh, well, me?" I asked feebly - mostly because I felt I had to say something. I was completely freaked out. I still couldn´t comprehend I had died. It was just too unbelievable.

Mr. Twi - Dumbledore - nodded, grinning slightly. A commotion outside interrupted our conversation, and I heard angry, desperate shouting.

"...let me see her... she´ll remember me... I know it... she´ll remember me!" a young man´s voice sounded from just beyond the curtain. Sharp Tooth answered.

"Ron! She doesn´t remember anything! Please -" he stopped as the curtain was torn open. A tall, lanky red head with a good dousing of freckles bound across the room to the side of my bed. He paused for one brief second before wrapping his arms tightly around me, nearly suffocating me. He was stroking my head and whispering gentle somethings in my ear.

He finally let go, stepping back and blushing like mad, "Sorry," he mumbled, but couldn´t keep the handsome grin from his rugged face. His hair was tousled and he was in strange garb - he wore elbow, knee, and shin pads and was carrying a broomstick. Odd, I thought, thinking it some sport or something. Surely, if all this magic stuff is real, they would have their own sports.

"Ron, nice to see you," Dumbledore said, still smiling and Ron grinned back at the old man.

"G´day, Professor," he muttered, still grinning crazily. He definitely was not hard on the eyes - the red hair and freckles giving him a boyish face, but his stature proclaiming his age (probably 17, I suppose). I wondered briefly if we had been involved before I had died, because he obviously knew me well.

"Er, hello," I mumbled, not sure what to say. "How are you?" I opted for polite conversation.

"You don´t remember me, then?" he asked, his grin slipping for the first time. I shrugged and mumbled an apology.

"Ron, come on. Let´s leave her -" Sharp Tooth placed a hand on the red head´s shoulder, moving him to the door.

"No," Ron said stubbornly, "I´m not leaving her again."

"Ron, she isn´t going anywhere. I just need to speak to her a bit more, explain a few things," Dumbledore paused. "If that´s alright with you, of course?" he added mischievously, and Ron blushed again.

"Sorry, Professor," he mumbled and let Sharp Tooth lead him out the door. He cast a final look at me at the door; he seemed to be memorizing my features or something. Sharp Tooth nudged him through the doorway, and closed the door securely behind them.

"Who was that?" I asked Dumbledore, completely baffled.

"Ron Weasley - sixth year Gryffindor and one of your best friends. Harry Potter is your other best friend," he explained.

"Was he the one that -"

"No," Dumbledore interrupted, "Harry was the one that found you."

"Oh," I replied, not quite sure what to say. I fiddled with my fingers, picking the dirt from underneath their nails. My hands, although uninjured, were filthy. I brought a hand to my hair, but recoiled as it made contact. My hair was dry and wavy, but caked with mud.

"If you don´t have any other questions, you may get cleaned up. I´ll have Madame Pomfrey get you some clothes," Dumbledore said kindly. I nodded, and he stood up, "It´s nice to see you again, Hermione. We´ve all missed you."

It was weird. He talked like I had just been on a holiday, but I flashed him a timid smile. He slipped through the curtain, and a moment later the lady from earlier scrambled in. She had a pile of clothes clutched in her hands, and a basket of tubes and bottles - shampoo and such.

"Dear, you just go get cleaned up, alright? The bathroom is right there," she led me to a door and handed me the clothes and basket. "There´s clothes, shampoo, conditioner, body wash, a toothbrush, and toothpaste. Take as long a shower as you´d like," she practically shoved me in the bathroom and closed the door. Slowly, I removed the weathered clothing and stepped into the hot shower. The scalding water on my body was a nice reminder that I was alive.

*

"Harry, please sit down," Dumbledore said and gestured to a chair in front of his desk. Harry nodded, looking around the room. Sirius and Remus sat huddled in a corner, discussing something fervently. Harry waited patiently for Dumbledore to say something, exploring the room with his eyes. A bookshelf in the corner held all sorts of muggle contraptions, and a different set of pictures waved at him from every shelf. Harry spotted a picture of his mom and dad that he had missed before during all those times he had found himself in this very seat. Dumbledore still hadn´t said anything, so Harry decided to break the silence.

"Am I in trouble?" Harry asked, wondering what he could have done to get both his professor and godfather involved. "Is it Voldemort?" was his second question.

"No and no. Everything is alright on that front," Dumbledore paused. "Sirius, you should tell him."

Sirius literally jumped out of his seat and threw a curious look at Dumbledore, but nodded. He began to pace up and down the small area between the desk, the chair, and the wall.

"Sirius?" Harry interrupted, "Just spit it out already."

"Harry," Sirius began. "Hermione -"

"No," Harry interrupted coldly, his green eyes changing from jade to a new color - paler, colder - an envy green - a death green, "I don´t want to talk about her."

"But -" Sirius tried, but was once again interrupted by Harry.

"I will NOT talk about her!" Harry repeated, his voice a low hiss.

"Harry! Listen to me," Sirius hand gripped at the corner of the table. "She´s alive, Harry. She´s back."

"Stop it. Just stop it. I don´t want to hear these lies! Stop it!" Harry began repeating quietly over and over, and nothing Remus, Sirius, or even Dumbledore said would shut him up.

Dumbledore mumbled something, and a moment later Harry was slumped in his chair, quiet and unconscious.

"What did you do?!" Sirius shouted, his overprotective nature coming forth as he rushed to Harry´s side.

"Sirius, calm down. I put him to sleep -" Sirius gasped at this. "He will wake up," Dumbledore chuckled, then stopped, his expression turning serious. "It´s too soon. I should have known he wouldn´t handle this well. I just thought -"

"No one could have known," Remus spoke for the first time. "We´ll just have to figure out this mess."

"Yes, and a mess it is," Dumbledore agreed. "I just don´t understand how they brought her back. Those magics are long gone - dead."

"Shouldn´t we be focusing on why she´s here?" Sirius questioned, moving to sit in the chair beside Harry.

"No," Dumbledore shook his head, "If we can figure out the how, it´ll probably lead us right to the why."

"It´s a good thing she found us," Remus commented, brushing a hand through his graying hair.

"I think she was meant to," Dumbledore mumbled quietly. "I think they wanted her to find us."

"Why, though? If they brought her back, wouldn´t they want to keep her?" Sirius countered.

"Only time will tell..." Dumbledore trailed off.