Hermione couldn't speak anymore. Her throat felt swollen with suppressed cries and words felt so far out of reach. She could only watch in horror as the black poison crawled up the veins and arteries in his neck. There were thousands of things she wanted to tell him: how the man he was now overshadowed his juvenile flaws. How, after years together, he still made her heart stutter when he entered a room. How he was so beautiful to her. All bright, harsh colours in her world of darkness. Her universe.