Try, Try, Try, Just A Little Bit Harder
by itsacraze

Sometimes she dreams in lights and alcohol--which is very strange since the only alcohol Hermione has ever had in her life is wine on Christmas--and she's on stage and free like a bird, taste of something hard and burning on her tongue. Her hair is wild about her and her arms are heavy with bracelets. Her fingers clutch a microphone stand and she straddles it like it's a lover--grinding against it and singing so loud it should hurt--but her voice swells and slides out of her like liquid, and she is dizzy with it all.

In her dreams, Hermione is an angel tossed down from heaven, making a pitstop on her way down, clutching a bottle and a microphone--and she loves it.


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