My Missing piece (Harmione)

30.

I Nᴇᴇᴅ SᴏᴍᴇBᴏᴅʏ Wʜᴏ Cᴀɴ Lᴏᴠᴇ Mᴇ Aᴛ Mʏ Wᴏʀsᴛ.
Kɴᴏᴡ I'M Nᴏᴛ Pᴇʀғᴇᴄᴛ.
Bᴜᴛ I Hᴏᴘᴇ Yᴏᴜ Sᴇᴇ Mʏ Wᴏʀᴛʜ.

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"Does she have any other places she could stay overnight? Relatives? Friends? Anyone?" Harry's voice was filled with concern as he glanced at Ron, who leaned against the doorframe. Luna approached them with a thoughtful expression.

"Not that we know of," Ron replied, his brow furrowed in worry.

Luna chimed in, her dreamy tone calming the tense atmosphere, "Perhaps we should consider going back to your place and waiting there. Maybe these are just pure coincidences? If someone said what Harry said to Hermione, I'm pretty sure they'd want some time alone, especially Hermione, who just lost her parents and is going through too much-"

George, always quick with his thoughts, cut Luna off, "And she could come back to the Burrow, like at 5 a.m. when she thinks everyone will be asleep."

Ron nodded, his expression filled with hope, "Yeah, Merlin, I hope that's the case. Let's head home. Maybe she's there after all." He let out a heavy sigh. Despite their instincts urging them to search for Hermione, they lacked enough proof to confidently say that Death Eaters were involved in her disappearance.

"How long should we wait?" Harry asked, rubbing his eyes with one hand while holding his spectacles in the other.

"Till tomorrow even-"

"That's too long; we'll wait until afternoon."

"Let's go to the Burrow then?"

Luna spoke up, determination in her voice, "Me and Neville will go to my place. You guys send a Patronus if anything comes up, but we'll come to the Burrow in the afternoon anyway, okay?"

"Will do," Ginny's assurance was met with nods of agreement from the group. With a resounding crack, they all apparated from the desolate house to the comforting embrace of their home. The hope of finding Hermione safe and sound was a beacon in their hearts, even as uncertainty loomed.

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In the dimly lit, oppressive room, Hermione knelt on the cold, unforgiving floor. Her wrists were cruelly bound by the dreaded Deathcuffs, rendering her powerless. Fear clung to her like a suffocating shroud as she scanned her surroundings, realizing that she was trapped with no hope of escape.

A sinister smirk crept across Beck's face as he materialized in the doorway, flanked by three other ominous figures - Antonin Dolohov, Alecto, and Amycus Carrow. The mere sight of them sent shivers down Hermione's spine, for she knew the horrors they were capable of.

Alecto, her twisted pleasure evident in her sadistic grin, dragged an innocent, bloodied figure into the room - Eleanor. The poor girl was in shock, her pink, polka-dotted pajamas now marred with gruesome splatters of blood. To Alecto, Eleanor's screams seemed like a macabre symphony.

"Leave her alone, Alecto. You've got what you wanted, haven't you?" Harry's voice trembled with anger and desperation.

Alecto's response sent shivers down her spine as she stared into her cold, malevolent eyes. Her voice dripped with venom as she spoke, "Actually, Potter, I still haven't forgotten. What we, the Death Eaters, desire more than anything is to exact a revenge so dark and devastating that it will eclipse the very memory of our fallen Dark Lord. It is you, Harry, who stands as the living symbol of his demise, and this time, you will not escape our grasp. You will meet your end in the most excruciatingly agonizing manner imaginable. Your death shall be a spectacle of suffering, a testament to the power of the Dark Arts, and a warning to all who dare oppose us, Potter."

Hermione couldn't help but taunt them, her defiance a fragile shield against the darkness encroaching, "Sounds interesting, go on."

"To be honest, Alecto," Amycus sneered darkly, "I'm truly amazed that the Granger girl sent him here. Family must mean everything to her." His sinister laughter filled the room as Alecto flung Eleanor across the chamber, her anguished cries echoing off the stone walls, and her consciousness slipping away.

"Stop. Hurting. Her," Hermione's voice cracked with fury, her teeth clenched.

Beck advanced menacingly, replying with malevolent certainty, "I don't think you have a say in what we do, Potter." With a swift kick to Harry's gut, Beck sent her head slamming into the unforgiving wall. The Deathcuff, reacting to Harry's movement, surged with electricity, causing Hermione's scream to mingle in the air as her tormentors reveled in what they thought was Harry's suffering.

Struggling to endure the excruciating pain, Hermione felt the Deathcuff tighten, blood oozing from her wrists like a relentless waterfall. Her vision blurred, breaths grew shallow, and every inch of her body screamed in agony. She cried out until her voice was nothing but a hoarse whisper. And then, the unimaginable transpired, the one thing she had dreaded all along.

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Sorry again for the short chap guys, it's been really tough these days, finding some time to write is soooooooo hard. I figured writing a small chap is better than not writing at all.

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