"You are the love of my life," Y/N said. "I love you."
"If loving me comes with shame," Hermione breathed in a shaky breath. "I don't want your love."
In a matter of seconds, Y/N's world came tumbling down. Hermione's words hit her...
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With a flutter of her lashes, Y/N slowly regained consciousness, her eyes blinking open only to be instantly dazzled by a brilliant, blinding light. Reflexively, she squeezed her eyes shut again, releasing a low groan as she made an effort to pry her heavy eyelids open once more.
Rubbing her eyes gently to clear the residual haze, she gingerly sat up, taking in her surroundings with a mixture of confusion and trepidation. It was then that the realization washed over her, dawning on her face like a sunrise breaking through the clouds.
"Oh," she murmured softly, her voice laden with comprehension, as she instinctively wrapped her arms around her knees, seeking comfort in their embrace.
"I died," she whispered, her words hanging heavy in the air, as she slowly reclined back onto the cool, solid surface beneath her.
Death had claimed her.
As she gazed up at the pristine expanse of the white ceiling, every inch of the room bathed in the same ethereal hue, Y/N felt a sense of detachment creeping over her.
The starkness of her surroundings seemed to further distance her from the realm of the living, and she found herself biting her lip nervously, caught in a moment of contemplation.
As Y/N's eyes glazed over, consumed by a distant and introspective gaze that seemed to fixate upon the vast expanse of nothingness, her mind grappled with the weight of her current existence.
Yet, amidst the haze of contemplation, a sudden realization snapped her back to the present. Without a moment's hesitation, she grasped her face, her fingertips delicately tracing the contours of her features, discovering to her astonishment that her left eye had miraculously returned.
The memory of the agonizing moment when Peter had taken her eye surged back, evoking a cringe and an exasperated sigh that escaped her lips, carrying the weight of frustration and painful recollection.
But before Y/N could fully comprehend this unexpected turn of events, her attention was abruptly diverted. Startled, she turned around, only to be confronted by a bewildering sight—a multitude of statues, each one a precise replica of herself.
Her eyebrows furrowed in profound confusion, and a mix of curiosity and trepidation spurred her into action. Rising from her previous position, she cautiously approached the statues, feeling an inexplicable pull drawing her closer.
These statues, frozen in their lifelike forms, mirrored her various incarnations throughout time. Each one was an embodiment of a different age, capturing the essence of the girl she had been, the woman she had become, and the specter of the future that awaited her. It was an inexplicable tableau, an enigmatic display that beckoned her to unravel its secrets.
Driven by curiosity, Y/N ventured forth, her steps echoing softly against the pristine white floor. With a mixture of trepidation and wonder, she reached out, her hand extending towards her present self, her fingers trembling in anticipation.
