[ slowly but surely, too slowly for hermione's taste, she has begun to realise the nature of the problem. hallucinations, like those from a false memory charm, individual and non-transferable. what she hears, others do not; what they feel, she cannot share.
she's seen people cry out for loved ones, flinch from invisible terrors. it's ... too much, really. so she stays in her cabin, as much as she can, focusing on placing up wards and organising (though not unpacking) her bag, making the place feel as homey as she can without sacrificing the easy convenience of leaving in a hurry if she must.
but as the week drags on, as the screams go more prevalent even in the relative quiet of the village, as occasional ghosts slip through even hermione's most deadset wards, she thinks it might be helpful to have someone other than the screams of her friends in pain or the visions of her parents' blank stares for company.
thus, mid-day, an audio call: ]
Peter? [ a beat. ] Hello, is anyone there?
[ it's like a telephone, right? if she calls, he has to answer the phone. ]
@hermione
she's seen people cry out for loved ones, flinch from invisible terrors. it's ... too much, really. so she stays in her cabin, as much as she can, focusing on placing up wards and organising (though not unpacking) her bag, making the place feel as homey as she can without sacrificing the easy convenience of leaving in a hurry if she must.
but as the week drags on, as the screams go more prevalent even in the relative quiet of the village, as occasional ghosts slip through even hermione's most deadset wards, she thinks it might be helpful to have someone other than the screams of her friends in pain or the visions of her parents' blank stares for company.
thus, mid-day, an audio call: ]
Peter? [ a beat. ] Hello, is anyone there?
[ it's like a telephone, right? if she calls, he has to answer the phone. ]