Ákvað að, þar sem síðasta grein var sett inná einhverntíman í júní, það skaðaði ekki að skella einhverju inná. Hef ekki verið almennilega inná huga í háa herrans tíð, þannig að mér fannst tími til kominn að ég gerði eitthvað.

Þetta er gert fyrir keppni á grúbbu á deviantart.com sem ber nafnið HarryPotter-Fangroup. Þemað var hrekkjavaka sem mér finnst alltaf svolítið spennandi, svo að ég ákvað að slá til.


Hermione flipped the page excitedly as she curled even further up in the big, comfortable chair in the Gryffindor common room. She had been checking out the books in the school library when she came across a book title she had not been expecting to see in a wizard library; Dracula.
She had thought it was a mere muggle novel, only famous in the world she came from. But it seemed, when she inspected the book, that the story of Dracula known to the muggle community was only a muggle-safe version of the famous vampire story.
She had already read the muggle version of the book and really liked it. So, full of curiosity, she took the book and started reading.
It turned out that the story of Dracula was not a novel. It was a true story known to the wizard community. The book Hermione had read at home in her youth was a reread and edited version, made only for muggles. The real thing was way longer and more detailed with a lot of references to magical facts and the community known to wizards.
The story was terrible and spooky, sending shivers down Hermione's spine as she read further. The descriptions were realistic with a kind of flair that made her think that count Dracula was actually standing behind the chair she sat in, waiting for the kill.
Her fingers were trembling with excitement as she finished the most exiting chapter yet. It was really late and everyone had gone to bed before her, she had told Lavender and Parvati that they shouldn't worry about her and that she would return upstairs in a short notice. Everyone was tired and full from the meal they had enjoyed that day. It was Halloween, so every inch of the castle was decorated and every time they ate that day, the food was even better and greater than they were used to.
It had been four hours since Hermione said good night to her roommates.
She marked the page she was at and stretched out, the fatigue only coming to her when she laid the book down. Suddenly, she noticed how quiet it was. The only noise she could hear was the sound of an owl somewhere outside. The common room was dark; the fire she had sat by had turned out hours ago.
A shivering feeling crept down her back as she pulled the blanket she'd been wearing even further up, covering the lower part of her face. Was that breathing she heard?
She couldn't see anything but the fireplace, the chair she sat in was big and surrounded her like a giant wall, blocking her view of the room. The breathing became louder and louder and she heard the person behind her creep closer to the chair. The presence of the unknown was overwhelming.
Hermione pulled out her wand and whispered as the end of the stick lit up. She sat her feet reluctantly down onto the floor, afraid that something would grab them. Slowly, she stood up and, taking a deep breath, turned around to face the common room.
There was no one.
Releasing a breath, she allowed herself to lower the wand. It had only been her imagination; there was nobody in there except for herself.
Even though she had decided everything was safe, she couldn't allow herself to take her eyes of the big, dark room. She crept along the walls, closer and closer to the stairs leading up to the girls' dormitory.
When she reached the stairs, she turned slowly around and faced them. The staircase was long and unlit, so it appeared that the steps led up only to darkness. As she rose one foot and put it onto the first step, she felt someone grab her from behind whispering into her ear:
“Who is this I find stalking around in the middle of the night?” Hermione yelled as she turned around in the arms of the unfamiliar. She readied her wand; wary of whom it could be. But then she saw who it was, and let her guards down. His blue eyes were full of wit and jest as he loosened his grip on her.
“Roy Weasley! Whatever were you thinking?” Hermione asked madly.
“I'm sorry, I just couldn't help it,” he grinned as her frown got bigger. “I'm glad I managed to catch you, I figured you'd be in bed by now.”
“What is it?”
“Well, you know,” he hesitated. “I forgot to tell you goodnight.” His red hair was shuffled and his eyes were sleepy. She could tell that he was only half-awake; it was really late after all.
“Oh,” Hermione said, as she found a small blush forming on her cheeks. “Goodnight, then.”
Ron smiled embarrassedly, “goodnight, Hermione.”
Hermione watched as he turned around and walked up the stairwell to enter the boys' dormitory. Halfway there, he hesitated a bit, looking at her over his shoulder. But then he just shook his head a little and continued his journey.
As Hermione walked up her own stairs and lay down in her own bed, a warm feeling had settled within her. She found that her dreams would be sweet that night.


Sagan á dA með meðfylgjandi mynd: http://greenbucket5.deviantart.com/art/Hermione-s-Dracula-Halloween-181652565?q=sort%3Atime+gallery%3Agreenbucket5&qo=0