Summary:Being tortured by by Bellatrix changes Hermione in a big way. She decides that no one else is allowed to write her life and is determined to live her life her own way. This includes going after the love of her dreams. Now all she has to do is figure out who they are
Notes:There will be a number of mature things discussed including torture, same sex relationships, violence and others… you have been warned.
Also this is an AU after the events mentioned are listed. The changes are noted. If there is nothing noted you can assume that the events of the book have occurred.
PS. This is a work of fiction using the characters created by J.K. Rowling. They are not used with her permission. All actions follow the events of book seven of the series, excluding the epilogue. Any similarity between any person living or dead is purely coincidental and unintentional. If you happen to find your life reflected in this piece I'll be impressed.
Chapter 1Summary:This is a revision of the first chapter
Chapter TextOne
Every nerve in her body exploded in pain, a crawling, sharp, burning pain that had enough continuous variation that her mind could never become desensitized to it. It rolled through her body like a plague and destroyed all resistance, tearing down all barriers like tissue. Sound no longer came out of her as she had already screamed the air from her lungs and there was nothing left to pull air back in. The pain itself was killing her.
It ended in an instant and she was left gasping on the floor, desperate to take in air, fingers trying to find purchase on the cold stone, tears burning down her face. From above her, a sharp woman's voice filled with tremendous malevolence spat at her yet again, "Well, what about the sword mudblood? I know you broke into my vaults."
"No. Not real. It's not real. Dumbledore made copy. A copy." sobbed out Hermione, the pain still echoing along her nerves, making her wince with every slight move that brought about another firing. The pain was both clouding her thinking and making it razor sharp, focused mostly on the details. "Didn't go your vaults."
"Somehow, I don't believe you." said Bellatrix.
Her world again burst into the same unimaginable pain, her body convulsing with it, thrashing against the hard floor. Nerves were flayed by the spell, burning raw under the power of the magic until all she seemed to know was the white flare of pain, until she was again lying there on the marble gasping for air and weeping.
"You know… Draco told me that people say you are the smartest witch of the age and little Draco wouldn't lie to me now would he, eh Muddy?" came the mocking voice from so far away. It was clear that the wild haired woman was enjoying every minute of this, drinking in her suffering like a drug.
"s'not… It's not real." It took real effort from her to gasp that out as her body protested. All she wanted to do was breathe and cry, tell Bellatrix whatever she wanted to hear, anything to just end this pain. Her body still smarting from the curse but she had to keep trying, all the while praying for a miracle.
"Really now, you still trying to pass off that pathetic lie?" sneered Bellatrix, drawing closer, kicking her in the thigh for some variety to the pain.
Hermione Granger lay on the floor of Malfoy Manor, eyes too full of tears to see the chandelier above them that she vaguely remembered from the start of this, body trembling from ravages of the Cruciatus Curse. Her mind was racing, faster than it ever had before, trying to find some way to escape, some way to get the boys and get out, so they could get the sword and the horcrux that she surmised Bellatrix had stored in her vault based on how vehemently she was torturing her about that one point. Another part of her mind however looked at herself, her state and was growing dispirited. Her whole life came down to this moment, being tortured by a madwoman and all she actually had were deep regrets of a life she had been too afraid to live. Harry and Ron had helped her relax over the years and be more openly herself but she had been so worried about the rules and what was "right" that she never really truly just let go and did what she wanted to do, had been who she wanted to be.
Her scream lasted longer this time as she had been able to get more air in her lungs thanks to that longer break. The pain must have lasted longer this time as she lost herself in a haze of white and red and when it stopped she convulsed uncontrollably for a short while. Her muscles protested against what was happening to her, drool trickling down the side of her face, muscles half cramping.
"W-we only have a copy. I swear." protested Hermione, when her body had stopped and she could speak again, her voice raw. It was so hard to think and she was going with the only story that had presented itself when this had started. If only Bellatrix would believe her and stop. Part of her wanted to crawl inside her mind and hide away forever.
"I swear. I swear. Like I believe you, filthy mudblood. Your filthy blood is stinking up the place." ridiculed Bellatrix, sneering down at her.
Somehow, somehow if she made it through this, she needed to forget about rules, forget about being the good girl that everyone expected her to be and wanted her to be. If she survived she needed to find a way to be free, to be herself, whatever and whoever that was. She had a few ideas but mostly she knew it was not even remotely the safe conventional schoolgirl she had been for so many years, too afraid of the comments of bullies and others to really spread her wings. No, she was something else but what?
"It's just a copy. Just a copy." Her voice was so weak as her strength was fading. She had no idea how much more of this she could endure.
"Shut yer gob!" spat the madwoman, flinging her arm at Hermione.
Her body again erupted with white fire coursing through her veins, over flayed nerves, her back arching up, as if it were trying to escape from the agony that was all she knew. It almost felt like she were a taut bowstring humming a tune in the key of screams and she could not even recall how they had gotten here. All she knew anymore was this floor, that horrible voice, and an existence, maybe even an eternity of pain. Why hadn't she died?
When it was over this time, Hermione was in a bit of a daze, her mind having difficulty focusing on things, hearing a mad titter off to her side somewhere, something she had registered through her screams. Her head lolled to the side and she looked, almost unseeing towards the bannister, her eyes not quite able to focus. Cruel. All this was so very cruel, like the kids had been to her when she was younger, when they discovered she was smart, smarter than them. Cruel, like in the way they mocked her, taunted her, tripped her and more all before she found out she was a witch and her whole world transformed into something amazing. Their petty cruelties drove her even farther into books, even more into a world where it was safe to play by the rules, to follow directions, to stay close and listen to teachers, to be what others wanted you to be so they would care for you. If you were a good girl and the teachers liked you they could even keep the worst of the pain away.
"I think this stupid girl keeps forgetting her place. Is that what you are doing mudblood?" Bellatrix kicked Hermione in the side, keeping the girl from slowly curling into the fetal position.
Hermione tried to answer but words failed. All she could do was weakly sob and groan.
"I think the smartest witch needs a reminder of who she really is."
Hermione's left arm was pulled out from where it had been, trying to protect her body, the sleeve torn open and Bellatrix knelt alongside to her, whispering happily, "It's a good thing this filthy mudblood can read else all our work would go to waste."
A new pain burned out in her arm, a different burning than she had felt before and Hermione found that she could still scream and thrash a little. When she saw that Bellatrix was cutting into her arm with a knife, blood trickling down her arm as a salty fire burned in her flesh as it was violated, she started calling out in a scream ravaged voice, "No, no, no!"
Bellatrix was humming happily as she worked, taking her time in order to shape each letter perfectly. The pleasure on the woman's face was chilling. She grinned down at Hermione, very pleased with her developing work. "Now you will always know who you are."
Hermione glared at the witch. That woman was literally writing who she wanted Hermione to be in her very flesh, Bellatrix was writing her life. She was yet another bloody person trying to dictate to her who she was supposed to be. She twitched again as another letter was cut into her and another scream tore itself out. No, she was not going to let someone else write her life, no, not ever, never again!
The pain crested higher and she fell into darkness, shuddering into nothingness.
HGHGHGHGHGHGHG
Several things made themselves apparent to Hermione as she came out of the darkness. The salty air, the sounds of sea birds, the faint roar of the sea, and the softness of a bed underneath her, these things were all so unlike where she had been when she had lost consciousness that it made it hard for her to make sense of all of this. This place was so markedly different from her memories of pain that it was difficult for her to really grasp what this was. Nothing was familiar. Where was she?
She tried to move and then hissed in pain, as everything about her body protested what she was doing. Her throat felt torn up and the sibilant sound she had made was not helping. Even her eyes hurt to a degree and while she did not know where she was right now she remembered everything that had happened before the darkness engulfed her, including what she had promised herself. That meant that it was all true, that they had been captured, that they had been take to Malfoy Manor, that Bellatrix had actually tortured her for what seemed like forever, that she had that hated, foul word carved into her arm. She could feel tears start to trickle down her face as those thoughts shook her with the weight of those memories. Her body spasmed a little, muscles reacting to her movement and that made her gasp as the pain flared again, giving her a taste of the Cruciatus again. As she moaned, too devastated to scream, the door opened and before she could flinch away in walked a very familiar blond. She looked at her with some confusion not really believing what she was seeing. Rasping out with a voice that bespoke her discomfort, she asked, "Fleur?"
"Sshhh 'ermione. I am 'ere. You are safe." replied Fleur rushing to the bed and gesturing to Hermione to not move.
Hermione stopped even trying to sit up and lay there looking at the former Triwizard Champion with some surprise. How could the woman be here wherever here was? "Where?"
"You are at Shell Cottage. It is mine and Bill's 'ouse on the coast. It is protected by a Fidelius Charm and is quite safe. No one knows you are 'ere."
Hermione closed her eyes and sighed, letting her body fully relax for the first time since she had awoken. All that Fleur said was good to hear. Hopefully that meant they were safe for now. Everything hurt and that little bit of tension had drained her more than she thought possible leaving her weak. She still hurt but thankfully it was not as bad as it had been back at the mansion. The pain was not a raging fire but a dull burn.
"I am going to change your bandages. This will 'urt and I am sorry but it must be done." apologized Fleur, her voice the gentle sound one used with the very sick or injured. That sound alone told Hermione just how bad off she was.
Realizing that this was inevitable, Hermione nodded slightly, trying to prepare herself for what was to come and wishing she had some sort of context. Fleur made the process as gentle as possible by using her wand for as much as she could but Hermione could not help herself, crying out in pain several times as agony lanced through her. Tears rolled down her face and she could see that Fleur was not pleased with how this simple act was hurting her.
The bandages on her arm were quite red but not soaked through completely in her blood, which was some small comfort. Once unwrapped, Hermione winced at the red flesh, the ends only barely trying to close, still oozing blood. Fleur cleaned the site carefully, pausing when the pain grew too much, and then pulled out a familiar bottle. Sniffling slightly as it all hurt, Hermione asked curiously, "Dittany?"
"Oui. Relax as best you can, I will be as fast as I can manage. This may sting a little." Fleur smiled apologetically.
She hissed again as the essence of dittany burned along the cuts, its magic trying to reweave the flesh. Towards the end, it started to feel like she was being cut all over again and she bawled in pain, not even worried about trying to be brave. All she could remember was that woman and her foul breath as she carved happily into her arm. "I am so sorry 'ermione. It is nearly over."
The torment continued a little longer and then when her sounds dropped to weak sobs, Fleur delicately rewrapped her arm with a fresh bandage. Hermione was barely conscious, as her already low reserves had been depleted even more by the renewed pain caused by the healing. Her eyes were open a mere slit and her head lolled to the side as it was difficult to hold it up. She was too drained to do more to keep it straight. "I 'ave a Calming Draught for you and potion to 'elp 'eal the effects of the Cruciatus. Thankfully, you were not under it too long or the effects would be worse. Ron and 'arry could not say 'ow long she 'ad you under it. If I 'ad any Dr. Ubbly's Oblivious Unction I would give it to you, to 'elp you forget what 'appened to you as that might 'elp."
"No… no… want to re…" It hurt but she managed to swallow and get moisture to her raw vocal chords. She needed to make this point clear, so there was no misunderstanding her. "… remember. 's 'mportant."
"Very well. I don't understand 'ow that could be important but very well. Now drink." Hermione had the two draughts that were offered and then felt a bit drowsy afterwards. This was not a bad thing because she remembered what her parents had always told her that sleep was often the best medicine. She drifted off thinking of them and how much she missed them. Right now she wished her mother was holding her, brushing a hand through her hair, and telling her it would get all better.
After who knows how long, Hermione came awake with a scream, as her body was seared under the pain of the Cruciatus while Bellatrix's laughter echoed in her ears. The door swung open and Fleur and Ron burst in, wands at the ready. As Fleur started to come around side the bed Hermione flinched away from Ron. Fleur, noticing this, pushed him out. Once her wand was away, she moved to the bedside and asked, "Are you okay?"
Hermione panted, her ribs throbbing, and the bandage on her left arm again red with blood, her body aching from the pain flare and all of her muscles protesting. Her face burned from the salt of tears. She cried some more as the pain was just so overwhelming at the moment that she couldn't help it. There was really no stopping this flood. After Fleur had finished treating the cuts on her arms again and giving her another Calming draught, the French witch asked, "Why did you flinch from Ronald?"
"Are we in private?" Hermione was somewhat nervous as she asked that.
With a few gestures and muttered spells, the blond nodded. Hermione sighed, looking at the ceiling, looking for the words to proceed. How could she explain this? It was all so vague and jumbled in her head but saying it aloud might help things fall into place. "The torture was horrible Fleur, simply horrible."
"You don't 'ave to talk about it 'ermione." said Fleur, gently, resting a hand lightly on her shoulder.
"I do. I need to get this out before it eats me up. Honestly, I don't know how many times she used the Cruciatus on me. I lost track at six or seven and I know there were more after that. I just kept lying to her, hoping she would believe me and all she did was make things worse. All I do know for sure is that while I was there I realized something about myself and I want it to change." Hermione's voice was flat, the brutality of what had happened to her still shaking her to her core. She kept having images of what had happened to her dancing in her mind and she tried to shut them out. Even those were trying to do it to her as well.
"And what does this 'ave to do with Ronald?" It was clear that Fleur was not following along with her but it was little surprise as she wasn't following herself.
Hermione sighed and turned her head to face Fleur, even though her neck protested the action, making her wince. "I realized that I wasn't really living my life, at least not how I really wanted. I was playing it safe, being what other people wanted me to be and that my never questioning that, always following rules, all of that had only gotten me to that point, onto that floor. I felt and feel like other people have had more say in my life than I ever had. Even Bellatrix was there like all the rest trying to carve an identity into me. And while I was trying to survive I realized that I refuse to let anyone write my life again."
She could tell that she was crying again and her voice was choking up some. It was getting harder to speak so she closed her eyes and concentrated. She had to finish this, "Right now, I think I just need time, time to get myself in order, to figure out who I am and what I want. Seeing Ron or even Harry, but especially Ron too much until I am better will only make that worse. Ron has too many notions of who I am and who I am supposed to be and I can't take that right now."
"Very well. I will tell Ron and 'arry that you are still not feeling well and are not ready for visitors. I will think of something to get you more time. Let me give you something for the pain as I will not give you another sleeping draught. This way you can sleep or think as you need. But you should know, they are worried about you."
"Thank you Fleur. Maybe letting them come up here for a few minutes to see that I am alright would be fine. Just to let them know I am okay. That might curb their curiosity for a little while," offered Hermione, hoping for a happy medium.
"Potion first." Once Hermione was able to drink the potion completely and the pain that kept rolling through her body faded some to a faint pulse, Fleur headed downstairs.
Soon the door opened slowly and a familiar red head poked around the door, "Is it okay to come in."
Hermione rolled her eyes and said, "Yes Ron, just for a little bit."
As the two boys entered the room, Ron seemed to be moving in for a hug. Hermione wanting to avoid that, knowing how she felt and how he hugged, snapped, "Ron, please don't touch me. I hurt everywhere."
"Right, sorry." mumbled Ron, looking upset and awkward, shuffling a little in place.
"How are you Hermione?" asked Harry, coming close but not touching her, clearly respecting her boundaries. Never had the differences between the two boys been made clearer.
"Alive. I am very thankful for that. I don't know how you both managed to get us out of there but whatever you did was brilliant." said Hermione smiling at the two of them, quite proud of them for achieving the impossible. She then noticed that neither of the boys were smiling and actually looked sadder than a few moments ago.
"We didn't. It was Dobby." Harry's voice was soft, almost tremulous.
She stared at him in disbelief. Dobby had rescued them? What was he not saying? "What happened?"
Harry looked stricken, deeply wounded from whatever it was that had happened that enabled them to escape Malfoy Manor. Ron continued, picking up the thread, saying, "He died saving us, Hermione. All of us. Luna, Dean, Ollivander, Griphook, all of us."
Hermione looked confused the more the explanation continued. All those people had been there as well? All she had known was her torture. She had clearly missed so much. Thinking about the goofy sock wearing house elf, her heart went out to her best friend, "I am so sorry Harry."
Harry just shrugged, trying to play it off like he usually did. "All this would be over if it weren't for him. I just hate what happened."
Harry needed a hug but she hurt far too much to give him one and she hated that. She sighed and then winced, as some pain flared up her back bringing tears to her eyes. Ron's eyes widened at seeing this and he asked, "Are you okay?"
"No. The pain from the curse still affects me. I guess it will take time for my nerves to recover and I just need to rest in peace to do that. I am sorry for that." Hermione was apologetic, but only just. She really did want and need this time alone.
"No Hermione, don't apologize. Not after that. Not after what you endured. Take whatever time you need. You just get better," said Harry as he stood. "Come on Ron. We should let Hermione rest. We'll be by to check on you later."
Once the boys left Hermione lay back deeper into the pillows and listened to the sounds of the tide rolling in and out. The sound was soothing and helped her mind to relax. This was what she needed, peace and quiet after all the chaos and pain they had been under in such a short period of time. It was like a balm to her. As her thoughts drifted she thought about Harry and Ron. They were clearly worried about her and that was sweet. They were both such dear friends.
That thought gave her pause and she had to look at it again. They were both… friends? She understood with Harry, as their relationship was far more like brother and sister than anything else but her and Ron? She had thought that they had been developing something more romantic before his departure had thrown a wrench into things. When he returned after he saved Harry, Ron had mentioned how he had felt about her. And she felt that way about him as well… right? She knew she had been having dreams for the past two years that were rather vague and half remembered about cuddles and kisses and red hair and touches and more and surely that was Ron. Right? She hadn't been dreaming about someone else, had she? Her eyes went wide in fright; could she actually be in love with either Fred or George?
The idea was so chilling that it was easy to dismiss the idea. Than if she didn't feel that way about him what did she feel for Ron? They were very close, about as close as Harry and she were, and she had felt hurt last year at school with that mess with Lavender Brown. Moreover, she had clung to his side when he was recovering from his poisoning. The way they fought about things. Didn't that mean that she had feelings for him?
Hermione let her thoughts drift as she listened to the waves some more. No, she was going about this whole thing the wrong way. All she was doing now was making the issue more muddied, making a complete mess of things. She needed to approach this whole thing more logically, calmly, setting out her thoughts and feelings in a manner that allowed her to make sense of the whole situation without her emotions overriding things.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, wincing from the pain that simple move caused. She let it out slowly, feeling some of the tension that had been building since her thoughts had turned this way leaving. Logic was somewhere where she felt safe, in control. Right, so where should she start? A simple listing of Pros and Cons? To the relationship or to Ron? She needed to figure out her approach, her methodology, because that had an effect on the results and she didn't want to skew things. Well if she wasn't feeling the same way towards Ron that she had thought she was supposed to be feeling then perhaps she needed to direct her thoughts towards Ron himself to see if that offered any clues. It was the best she could figure at the moment.
Starting off with Cons, so things she did not like… well one easy one off the top of her head was the way he ate. He simply devoured food and sometimes it was simply off putting. And there was his obsession with Quidditch and the way he fawned over that one team. Or his lack of intellectual curiosity. Or the way that he never studied, relying on her for all the answers. Or the way he seemed to never understand her feelings, which she had to admit he was getting better at. Or the way that he didn't seem to have an interest in any part of her muggle life. Or the way that he got so angry so easily often over the smallest of things. Or how he had left Hermione and Harry when they really needed him and know the horcrux didn't count because they all had been dealing with it. Or how he had done the same thing a few times to Harry for years. Or how he was kind of lazy except when it came to Quidditch or eating. Or how he hadn't realized anything about her until after he had been poisoned and she had been there for him after having been friends for six years.
She sighed and let things go. She knew she could keep going but he was a good friend and if she kept going she would just get mad at him for things that were in the past and she had forgiven him for. To keep dwelling on them would only serve to stir up trouble where there was none. However it really did give her a good idea about the cons and that there were quite a few. So how about the pros?
Well, there was the fact that he was very protective of those he cared about and the way he gave his whole heart to things. Or that he was caring in a rather awkwardly adorable sort of way. Or that he wasn't a bad looking bloke. Or that he could be clever sometimes, like when he played chess. Or that he did seem to care for her in his own manner. Or that he was very brave even when it came to spiders. Or that he could be sweet, sometimes, when he thought about it or Harry prodded him. Or that she was running out of things. She frowned. Surely it should be easier to think about good qualities about Ron. He really was a wonderful person and she cared for him deeply. But this train of thought seemed to indicate that he was not the person for her.
They really did not have a lot in common beyond their friendship and their desire to help Harry defeat Voldemort. Her parents, who had the kind of relationship she most wanted, were friends with differing interests but also had a lot of shared interests. They had a lot in common, had many shared opinions and worked together wonderfully and there was no questioning their love even if there were times when it was uncomfortable to witness. It was, in truth, what she wanted most in a relationship. Looking at Ron from that viewpoint, it wasn't going to happen. They were too different to have that sort of relationship, to have that kind of happiness and she knew it.
Hermione started crying. It felt like her heart was breaking as she realized that all her dreams of her and Ron were for naught. What about her dreams, her desires? What about her wants for a happy future? There were many nights where she had dreamt of showing up at the Burrow with her family in tow, her spouse behind her, just out of sight and that had made her happy. This realization had robbed her of all that. She was crying again and muttering, "It's not fair. It's not fair."
Her body ached again, the pain coming back, as the tension she was feeling aggravated everything. She whimpered as the waves of pain kept getting stronger, trying to call for help through clenched teeth, fighting the urge to scream, "Fleur?"
It hurt and her mind was a maelstrom, cut loose from what she had known. What did this all mean? Did she have to lose Ron? She tried to focus on what she remembered of the dreams she had been having for the last two years, of red hair, kisses, touches, long time lying together in beds, in the grass, in a tub but there were no clear details of anything else. It helped calm her some as the familiarity and comfort of that dream and those images wrapped around her and ramped down the pain. Those dreams had given her such comfort and they did still. Yet if those dreams were not Ron, than who?
She looked at her bandaged arm and narrowed her eyes in concentration. Right now it did not matter who it was. Right now all that mattered was that she needed to get better and that she needed to do what was right for her. Just going along and not upsetting people had been the old her, she needed to stand up for herself more and stop letting herself down. Because if what she was feeling about Ron was true than she just couldn't do it anymore. Not to him and not to her.
Chapter 2Summary:This is a revised version of the chapter
Chapter TextTwo
The door to the room opened and the blond witch looked in with some concern, "Did you call?"
"Yes. Can I please get something for pain." asked Hermione, wanting to wipe the tears from her face, but moving at all was still far too painful for any action so the tears just rolled down her face. She felt shame at that and didn't know what to say or do.
Fleur wiped her cheeks dry with a piece of flannel, saying nothing about it and then gave her a sip of potion. "There that should 'elp. I don't want you to 'ave too much. Do you want me to check your arm? It 'asn't been very long but a bit more dittany could not 'urt."
Hermione nodded her head slightly. There was a burning in her arm that she just wanted to end and maybe the dittany could help. It was the best she knew of fro closing wounds. She then furrowed her brows in thought. She really needed to talk to someone, to get some feedback on where her current thoughts were leading her, so why not Fleur? "Fleur?"
"Oui?" The young woman looked up from where she was working on her.
"Can I talk to you, in private?" She was a bit nervous about talking to her but she really needed to do this. Since she hurt so bad that she couldn't write to explore her thoughts, than talking to someone was the next best option.
"Of course." The part veela witch gestured with her wand, saying something guietly, and Hermione guessed that they were now in complete privacy. "What is it 'ermione?"
"I… I have been thinking… something different… because of my experience and… and I wanted to check with someone… to make sure I am not… crazy or that this is not a side effect or anything." Hermione fidgeted as much as her injured body would allow, which wasn't all that much. Telling anyone this was not very easy and she wished she could move to get some of the nervous energy out.
Fleur arched an eyebrow at that and then sat in the chair by the bed. "You can tell me anything you want 'ermione and I will not be telling Ron or 'arry anything unless you want me to. If it is a thing that is bothering you it will affect your 'ealing and must be taken care of. We do want you to get better."
Hermione nodded slightly, seeing her point, and summoned her courage, she needed to get this out and see if she was going insane. The way her thoughts were going she was no longer sure and that was not comforting after being tortured. "Well, I… uhm… I sort of realized, that is… that I might not really be…"
Fleur had a patient and somewhat amused look on her face as Hermione spoke which caught her attention. It was so unexpected that it helped her be able to say the next part. "…attracted to Ron."
"Okay. And why is this a worry? I do not see this as a problem? Who you are attracted to is your business and nobody else's." Fleur seemed honestly confused with what Hermione was saying.
Hermione let out a breath she was not even aware she had been holding. That Fleur accepted this right off gave her some reassurance that this might be the right thing. But perhaps she needed to clarify things more, to make sure she was fully understood. "You don't think this is strange?"
"I take it you 'ad an epiphany about this under the Cruciatus? And this is why you do not want the memory of it affected?" asked Fleur rather pointedly, one elegant eyebrow raised.
"I do. When that was happening to me I realized I needed to stop sort of living for other people, for their expectations, their thoughts of me and live only for myself. Once I realized that I think I realized that I was sort of heading into a relationship with Ron because it was sort of expected, because we have been friends for a long time and I care about him, but while I love him I don't think I am in love with him or will ever be in love with him. We… we just don't mesh. Do you get what I mean? There is just too much about us that is different for us to really connect in a truly meaningful manner. Those differences, while there is some attraction, won't bring us together but I think will drive us apart. Does this make any sense?" explained Hermione, trying to get the jangled thoughts out of her head and laid out to another person in an orderly fashion. It felt like they were simply tumbling from her head and that was not helpful. These thoughts had shaken her and she just wanted to find solace from someone else.
Fleur smiled gently at her, reaching out to touch her shoulder softly. There was a slight twinge of pain yet it was bearable. She accepted the comfort. "Oui, I understand. While I am not a full Veela, my grandmother insisted that my sister and I knew a great deal of the ways of the Veela, their Rites, their magics. Fundamentally, they are creatures of Love and we do know a few things about that subject that most witches and wizards don't. So, yes, if your 'eart is telling you that Ronald is not your love, then you must listen, for it speaks true. Your 'eart must not, must never be denied. When your 'eart finds love, true, pure love, that is a powerful thing. It is why I am with William even after 'is attack when there are so many other men who would give everything they 'ave for me to be theirs. My 'eart wants him and I will not deny it. It makes me whole."
This confession made Hermione smile, perhaps the first true smile since she had awoken. She had never really been too sure what to make of Fleur but this was helping her to understand the woman better. Dumbledore had spoken of Love being powerful. She and Harry talked about that in the tent, trying to make sense of it. To hear Fleur talk of it was quite revealing. "So what should I do? I am far more used to thinking about things and these emotional matters are awkward for me. I know Ron is probably wanting to spend more time with me and do what he can to make this relationship happen but after thinking about it, I really don't want that to happen. There's just no real thing there. And if we cannot be then we both have better things to do than try to make something work that is doomed to fail."
"Well, right now you can always tell 'im that you 'ave no interest in things because of the torture and you need your space to 'eal. Then when there is a better time to actually address this matter, you can tell 'im without anything 'aving started between you." offered the blond woman.
Hermione lightly bit her lower lip in thought, weighing the advice. That approach really did seem to make sense and might even work. In all honesty it wasn't like she really had the time to worry about a relationship at the moment anyway. They were being hunted by Death Eaters and trying to kill Voldemort, it wasn't as if they had much free time that could be devoted to a social life let alone romantic entanglements. "That sounds like good advice. Thank you Fleur. I think that's what I'll do, at least for now."
"I can tell 'im that you are a bit touchy from the pain and trauma if you wish? That might give you some more space at the moment," inquired Fleur. "After what you went through, making sure your 'eart 'eals is as important as the body.
"Thank you Fleur that would be lovely," she said earnestly.
From what she could tell, this did afford her some space so she could start her healing. Her next day and a half were spent thinking over her resolution, Ron, Harry, what she wanted to do, her hopes and dreams. She also slept a lot, as the gradually lessening pain drained her greatly, sapping her strength and focus worse than her injury from the battle at the Ministry ever did while it healed. She woke often from those naps screaming, as nightmares of her torture constantly haunted her, with repetitions of what had happened or adding in the scarring of her face or dreams were there was nothing but the burning white pain of the Cruciatus and the cruel laugh as the only other thing known. The bandages on her arm were finally removed after several days and the word in her arm was a raw, red reminder of what Bellatrix had done to her but just looking at it made Hermione feel stronger, more determined than ever that she was not going to let someone else write her life. It angered her and made her want to fight against the ignorant bigotry that brought this about. That scar would become her talisman.
"Hermione!"
She smiled at Harry as he headed over from the doorway to stand alongside her bed, with Ron trailing along beside. He was shifting and looking away from her, clearly feeling awkward about this whole situation. The red head asked hesitantly, "Feeling better?"
"Yes, thank you Ron." said Hermione with a faint smile. She did want to make this a little easier on him.
"Are you able to tell us what happened?"
"Besides getting tortured?" scowled Hermione. "Well, actually yes. She let slip that there is another horcrux in her vault. Well, more implied than said right out."
"Then we have to get it!" Ron exclaimed.
Harry put a hand on his shoulder to get him to relax some as she was sure he could see the tension in her face. "I am sure we are all in agreement on that Ron, but let's figure out a plan first. Hermione is still weak and it's going to take a while for her to heal according to Fleur. There is no way we are doing this without her so let's figure things out and go from there."
"Wasn't there some of Bellatrix's hair on me when I arrived?" asked Hermione, vaguely remembering some falling on her at some point during her torture. She wasn't sure so she wanted to check. Things were rather a blur after all.
"Uhm… yes… I think there was, now that you mention it. Fleur got you out of your clothes so gently that I think there is still some available. We also have her wand. Why?" asked Harry, looking at her askance.
"Well, if we start brewing now we can get a batch ready quickly enough so I can use Polyjuice to look like her and that way I can walk into Gringotts. That way we can get the Horcrux directly from the vault with no fuss." suggested Hermione stating the first idea that came to mind.
"Hermione, that's blood mental!"
"Ron!" chided Harry, getting upset on her behalf.
"No Harry it is. Impersonate the craziest witch in England? You must be mental yourself to even consider this. That torture must have done something to you if you actually think that would work!" Ron was red faced and gesticulating wildly, glaring at both of them, daring them to say he was wrong.
"Zat es enough." snapped Fleur from the doorway, her accent growing thicker with her anger. "Ronald, out!"
He glowered a little at Fleur but left just the same, not wanting to argue with his brother's wife, stomping the whole way. Harry meanwhile looked at Hermione quite seriously, trying to weigh the idea, and asked, "Are you sure that this is the plan we should follow?"
"Yes Harry." Hermione looked at his tiredly. This was a terrible plan but given their resources it was perhaps the best they could do.
"Alright. I'll get right on the brewing once we gather everything up. When you are feeling better you can help me convince Griphook that this is actually a good plan and will help the Goblins."
She smiled weakly and yawned, feeling her strength wane. He smiled at her and said, "You know, you really are mental Hermione but absolutely brilliant. No one would ever expect such a plan because you would have to be daft to even try it. Get better. We can't do this without you."
Fleur came over and checked on her as Harry left, giving her some more potions to help with the pain, which Hermione allowed Fleur see. They filled her with a lassitude and helped her drift off to sleep. This time, instead of the nightmares that had been plaguing her, she had the dream again, the one where all she remembered was red hair, loving touches, passionate embrace, searing kisses, warmth and comfort enveloping her and strong, slender arms holding her protected from the world. It was the first time since the torture that she had awoken feeling safe and truly rested. She clung to that feeling as long as she could before the pains of the day could intrude.
Those dreams were not every night but as they continued and grew in length, Hermione began to get better and her pain got less. She was able to start moving around the cabin some, slowly but it was something. Even with that she still was spending the majority of her time talking with Fleur and occasionally Luna rather than anyone else. The Ravenclaw, while still a bit odd, was good company, helping Hermione keep Ron from crowding in to see her, allowing her the space she needed. The girls chatted a good deal about a good many topics both theoretical, informational and recreational and it was quite enjoyable. Even Dean came in a few times to see how she was which was a nice bit of variety as she had not spent a great deal of time with him at school. After an additional week and a half, she was able to move about for the most part without her entire body being wracked by pain with each step.
Sitting on the edge of the bed that she had spent far too much time in, she winced a little as she put on her bra. There were still some positions where her body still fired the pain from the spell through her, but they were only very brief flashes, more memories of the pain more than anything else which made her gasp each time. Pulling on her blouse, she buttoned it, thinking about what she was going to say to Ron and Harry. All of this rest and she was still at a bit of a loss. She felt better and yet she was about to go out into danger yet again. She sighed, and shook her head. What was she thinking? All of this had been hard enough when she wasn't hurt. Now with this injury, how would she fare? With a glance at her arm, Hermione nodded, grabbed her hoodie and headed downstairs.
When she could see the main room, apparently Harry spotted her first based off of his comment, "Good Morning!"
"Morning Harry. Is there still breakfast or has Ron eaten it all?" teased Hermione.
"Hey!" protested Ron.
"There is still food, we didn't let him eat it all." Harry nudged Ron playfully with his elbow. "Come on, sit down. We need to get you strong again so we can pull this off. Oh, the potion is brewing just nicely, so no worries there. I guess after you eat we can talk to Griphook?"
"It would be for the best."
That conversation went well, though Hermione lost her temper a little bit, even though that helped them as Griphook seemed to respond to that for some reason. Their plan was starting to come together. Harry had his invisibility cloak. Hermione would be polyjuiced and Ron would just be disguised and be acting as her assistant/ thug. And after they destroyed the cup, they would give the sword to Griphook as payment for his assistance as they agreed. Everything about the plan sounded as best as it could at this point, which was still shakier than any of them liked.
The visit by Remus, letting them know about the birth of his and Tonk's son Teddy, gave everyone hope and made Hermione somewhat wistful. She knew she had no future with Ron, her list made that painfully clear, but the idea of having a kid called to her. The idea of the redhead from her dreams being either Fred or George gave her hives. She might actually kill Percy if it all came down to it unless he got his act together, which she doubted. Bill was married and there was no way she was going to interfere with his and Fleur's happiness. That left Charlie as the only remaining option that she could think of and he was the Weasley she knew least about. She was certain that the hair color she was dreaming about was Weasley red. There was no mistaking that color for anything else in all honesty. She wondered what color her kid's hair would be if their other parent had Weasley red hair. Sitting outside, watching the others playing on the beach, Hermione smiled at the daydream of her with several wavy haired redheaded children.
"Is it all right if I joined you." asked Luna politely.
"No, go right ahead." Hermione smiled at the blond.
"I have noticed you have been very thoughtful lately. I do hope you have not been plagued by Wrackspurts." stated Luna with some concern.
"No Luna, I have just had a lot on my mind." said Hermione, trying to make sure that Luna was not overly worried for her.
"Oh, then you were just thinking about them." Luna turned to look at the water. Ron, Harry, Dean, and Bill were all playing by the water. Fleur was inside making lunch, with Griphook and Mr. Ollivander.
Hermione turned to look at the blond, somewhat confused by her statement. While it sounded vague to those who did not know her, Hermione could tell it was actually quite specific. "Thinking of who?"
"The one you love of course." Luna answered, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Hermione blinked a few times as she tried to make sense of that statement. Luna looked worried at the look on the girl's face and said, "Oh dear, did some wrackspurts get you? I don't have my glasses with me so I can't tell for sure."
"The one I love?" How did Luna know about that?
Luna nodded, "Oh yes. You get that look from time to time and you always have for the last few years. I figure it would have to be about love to make you smile so. Am I wrong?"
Hermione found that she could not argue with Luna's observation. The girl was somewhat right after all as her train of thoughts was tangentially connected to that especially there at the end. "Well, I don't exactly have a person I love right now but I can see some things, from my dreams."
"That's nice. Dreams can tell us a lot." Luna gave Hermione her usual smile.
Hermione groaned. "Don't tell me you believe that stuff that Professor Trelawney teaches?"
"Well… not exactly. Dreams are sure to have meaning and they are very powerful. They can drive us and inspire us. You just told me yourself that this dream of love makes you happy." stated Luna with a soft smile. "Maybe your dream is trying to tell you something or gives you a clue."
"Thank you Luna, I will have to think about that." Hermione rested a hand on Luna's arm.
"I am going to see if there are any more jam tarts." Luna got up and headed back inside.
The girl had offered up a point of view that Hermione had not really considered before and one that was somewhat compelling in light of things. If only she could remember more of that dream she kept having maybe she would be able to figure who this person was. The details were so elusive and the more she thought about it the faster they faded like smoke. Who knew, for all she knew it could very well be Ron but until she knew more how would she know?
In time she was all better, at least good enough to do this, and the polyjuice potion was ready. Griphook was convinced to help make this happen though it took some work, he would do this thing in return for the sword of Gryffindor. Hermione had practiced with Bellatrix's wand once casting magic did not cause her pain and she eventually got it to obey her after a while, though it felt strange to be using it. This wand was nowhere as comfortable as her own, especially when she realized that this was the wand that had tortured her and had caused her the pain that had created her problems.
Looking down at the potion she was unsure if she could do this until she glanced at her arm and the word carved there, staring back at her, driving home the need to do this. She drank it down the disgusting grey glop, gagging at the utter foulness of the taste. Essence of Bellatrix was repugnant. After her body had finished shifting she dressed quickly, they said their goodbyes and left Shell Cottage to attempt the utterly impossible task of breaking into Gringotts to steal something from a vault. It would take a miracle.
The plan went as well as their plans usually did and they only really had a true chance to breathe when they made it to Hogwarts, where Neville, Ginny and Luna had been busy keeping Dumbledore's Army alive until Luna had been taken. Finding out that Ginny was alright thrilled Hermione, as the youngest Weasley was her closest female friend and she had been worried for her. This whole year she had been in Hogwarts without any support from any of her family or Harry or her. Sure she had Neville and Luna to back her up, but still it couldn't have been easy for her. They only had a chance to catch up and hug briefly before the needs of the quest drove them on into the castle.
Once she had stabbed the cup with a basilisk's fang and she and Ron had reunited with Harry, Ron mentioned that he was worried about the house elves. Hermione was overcome with emotion, that Ron would actually think about such kind and generally helpless creatures in such a way but managed to refrain herself so that simply hugged Ron tightly, not wanting to give him the wrong impression about things. She cared about him, she really did, but wanted to make sure he knew that there was not anything other than friendship between them, especially after she had spent all that time at Shell Cottage trying to make that point clear to him. She did not want to have to deal with an overly emotional Weasley just before a battle.
Things got worse and worse as the day wore on and Hermione kept twitching slightly or felt the ghost pain from the Cruciatus flare through her when the pressure got a little too high during the fighting. She would look at her arm or grab the scar if she did not have the luxury of looking. That simple act kept her motivated and calmed her down as she honestly just wanted to curl up somewhere and cry at all of the horrors she was witnessing. This whole situation was terrible and made her sick to her stomach, at the growing numbers of atrocities. Finally there was a pause in the battle, and while the Death Eaters gave them some time, there was a regrouping in the Great Hall. That was where things got worse again.
Ginny was crying, sobbing out in her pain. Hermione rushed over once she found out Fred had died knowing that Ginny would need someone. It was clear that her mother could not be there for her as her father was consoling her and she could not spot Harry. She hugged the girl tightly and said into her hair, "Shhh… it will be alright Ginny."
"How? How will it be alright? He's dead. Fred's dead because some Deatheater killed him. How is it ever going to be alright again?" The red head slumped some more, her slender arms holding on weakly, her legs wobbly.
Hermione did the only thing she could think of, finding a seat and taking the distraught girl into her arms, rocking her gently. It didn't matter to her that it was awkward or that Ginny was heavy. It needed to be done. "I know this hurts Ginny and I know this is crazy. But we only have to survive a little longer, kill Nagini, and we can finish this. We need to keep fighting so that Fred, so that all of this will have not been in vain. Just think, after all of this work, if You-Know-Who dies, it would be the ultimate joke on the Deatheaters. Fred would approve."
Ginny snorted and then started crying again, but it did not sound to Hermione as if it were as raw and as pained as it had been before. She just held the red head, with a slight feeling of contentment in her. Running a hand over the red hair in a comforting gesture, she just tried to make Ginny feel a little bit better. She knew that this would not serve to take all the pain away or even part of it but if it would serve to keep Ginny together through to the end than it was all worth it. That seemed to work until someone rushed in letting everyone know that the Death Eaters were on their way back.
Hermione's heart felt crushed when she saw Harry's body lying there in Hagrid's arms. She screamed even though there was a burning ache in her chest. There was no way that this could be real. He couldn't be dead. And there, there was that bitch smirking at her knowingly. This all hurt worse than the torture had, bringing up the memories, tearing open the barely scabbed over mental wounds and throwing it all back in her face. And then Neville stepped up, refusing to yield, showing a courage that dwarfed every other Gryffindor's. Then Harry, Harry somehow, somehow he, and then she found herself fighting again, right in the thick of it.
A very short while later she found herself locked in a battle against Bellatrix with Ginny and Luna aiding her. Spells were flying as fast as she could cast them and still it wasn't fast enough. The woman was good, even when not using her own wand she was able to hold her own against the three of them, slipping around spells almost like smoke, using a shield only when necessary. It was crazy. Her heart fell again when a bolt of green lanced towards Ginny and she was sure it would be the end. Molly took over the battle at that point and she raced over to make sure Ginny was okay.
The red head was lying on the floor, trembling and watching her mother in wide eyed disbelief as she kept pressing into Bellatrix, driving the Senior Death Eater back. Hermione sighed in relief that the girl was fine thanks to her Quidditch honed reflexes and watched as well, doing what she could to protect them both while Molly Weasley eventually killed Bellatrix. Once that duel was over Hermione got to her feet, ran over and savagely kicked the body several times, screaming out her rage against her tormentor. Ginny pulled her way and then they fought their way back to the courtyard, determined to see what was going on.
There Harry was battling Voldemort. It was an incredible struggle. Their wands linked with the priori incantum and power was flooding the area. Hermione knew better than to step out there as that would be suicide with the amount of magical energy that was churning around out there. With one eye towards making sure she was safe and the other towards the battle being waged, she watched as Harry defeated the Dark Lord, and the man who had been terrifying Magical Britain for so long fell over, dead.
Hermione and Ron raced over to Harry, ecstatic, cheering. Hermione was slightly worried about the somewhat flat look on Harry's face, how emotionless he seemed but kept telling herself that Harry was just in a bit of shock that it surely was not something worse, that it couldn't be something worse. They were the victors after all. Voldemort was defeated! The battle wound down as news of Harry's victory spread, and as it did people started filtering out to into the rubble filled courtyard to congratulate Harry and the others, who stood there in a kind of daze.
Later that night, after the prisoners had been secured, there was somewhat of a victory celebration in the Great Hall, and Hermione sat there, drained and stunned, sort of blinking at everything, trying to process what was actually happening around her. Was it really over? Was the war that had been waged since she had been at the school finally over? It seemed so unreal. Despite having watched it happen it seemed so hard to believe. She was tempted to pinch herself but a part of her was afraid that it would bring her back to Malfoy Manor and she would rather be stuck in this fantasy than return there to find herself panting on the marble floor.
Harry was sitting next to her in pretty much the same state he had been in earlier, the flat, numb look still on his face. He looked ragged and beat down, like he was barely hanging on. Across from them, Ginny sat with her head on her mother's shoulder clearly trying to absorb everything that was going on at the party, though her eyes would occasionally go in and out of focus. Ron came up with a plate laden with food that the house elves had managed to make for everyone between the end of battle and now. He sat down on the other side of Harry and looked at everything before saying, "Bloody hell, is it really over?"
Chapter 3Chapter TextThree
It had been a month since she had seen him and a lot had changed for her in that time. If this had not been an urgent call by Harry she was not sure if she was even ready to see him or anyone else for that matter. Yes she was ready to make changes in her life but letting other people know about them… she was still working on that part of things. If only her mother would stop laughing about that the whole process it would be easier.
Her parents had been a bit irate at her for wiping their memories last year and sending them away but understood once she had sat them down and explained the full scope of matters. Once that had been accomplished, and a little sightseeing and shopping done, they had been ready to leave Australia, as her parents had been of the opinion that it might be a good place to visit for holiday neither really wanted to live there on a permanent basis. There were far too partial to England.
And so Hermione had spent a lot of time explaining to her parents all about the war and things she hadn't told them because she had been afraid they would worry and keep her out of school. They were not happy when they learned about the full scope of what had been going on in the magical world and the war against Voldemort but were quite relieved to hear that it was over. She had done a lot of apologizing and spent a lot of family time, just reconnecting to a family she had dearly missed. Her mother had taken her to the salon when she wanted to get her hair cut. Her mother had also taken her shopping several times when she indicated that she wanted to change her look some. There were also trips with her father as well so that he wouldn't feel left out. There was no doubt that her family was quite involved in the changes that were occurring in her life and that brought them together. Even though her father was bemused that Hermione was worried about seeing any one from the magical world as her life changed more, her mother just laughed at the irony. And in all honesty, Hermione did as well.
But it was Harry who had sent a message to her and if he needed her assistance than there was no way that she would ever let him down. No matter what changes she made in her life that one would never change. So despite her overwhelming urge to just hide and not see anybody just yet, she knew that she had to do this at some point. And the more she thought about it the more she realized that Harry would probably be the best first person to tell as his response would be the most relaxed and happy for her. Harry had always treated her well and had always looked out for her as well. Maybe this wouldn't be as bad as she was worried about, at least that was her hope.
With that she found herself knocking on the door of number 12 Grimmauld Place in early June with some trepidation. Her thoughts were awhirl as part of her was dreading this and part of her was looking forward to this. She did not have to wait long as Kreacher opened the door and saw her. Hermione knew something was wrong when she noticed that the house elf looked actually a bit pleased to see her. What could be going on that was worrying Kreacher so much that he was glad she was there? "Master Harry has been expecting you."
"Thank you Kreacher. How have you been doing?" she asked politely, wanting to be friendly towards the normally grumpy house elf. That way she might be able to get some clues as to this feeling of dread that was growing.
"Kreacher is fine. This way." He brusquely ended things and turned, leading her with some haste back inside.
Hermione noted that the house had not really been changed very much from the last time they had been here. It was still dark and gloomy, still fairly dirty all things considered. It had to be a very depressing place to stay. She understood why Harry was staying here but to not change anything in the month she had been away? How could Harry stand to live like this? What was going on?
Walking into the living room, she spotted Harry where he was huddled on the sofa, clasping his knees, but he did not look right. It looked like he had not shaved in a while and had somewhat of a patchy beard growth that when combined with his wild and apparently unwashed hair made him look like he had mange. His clothes also looked filthy. He looked like some sort of street person, or almost as bad a Sirius did the first time they had seen him. She gasped in shock at the sight, making Harry look up. "Harry!"
He started and began going for his wand before he realized it was Hermione and then he sighed and relaxed again, lowering his head to his knees, groaning. His hands were trembling. "Hi Hermione."
She rushed over and looked down at him, looking to see if there were any obvious injuries. "What has happened to you?"
He looked up at her and cocked his head as he took in her appearance, from her slightly shorter than collar length hair to her somewhat more feminine clothes and nice boots. His eyes widened some as he took this all in and he said, "Uhm… wow Hermione you look…"
Hermione nervously asked, "What?"
"Really nice. Different but nice." Harry gave her a faint smile that barely touched his eyes.
Blushing, Hermione grinned and said, "Thank you. I felt like I needed a bit of a change and so I did. You… you certainly have changed as well."
Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head ruefully, "I look ruddy awful you mean. I know."
"So this isn't a lifestyle change?" lightly teased Hermione.
A surprised bark of laughter came out of Harry, "Oh Merlin Hermione… I missed you."
"I missed you too Harry. I know I didn't see you when I spent a week with Ginny, helping her deal with Fred being gone, and then I only saw you briefly at the funeral. And then I went and got my parents. Since then, my family and I have all sat down several times and talked about everything that has gone on the last couple of years, and I told them of my decision to go back to finish my seventh year. It's been pretty crazy lately." She noted that he winced some when she mentioned Ginny's name. "I take it then that you haven't seen Ginny?"
He shook his head and looked down at the floor. She could tell that there was some color in his cheeks. "No I haven't. I haven't really seen anyone. You are the first person I have let into the house in two weeks. I haven't even answered any owls either. I realized yesterday that I needed help so I sent something to you. So thank you for coming."
"Oh Harry…" Hermione's heart went out to him. It was clear to her that he was hurting a lot. She was wondering what was going on.
"I just can't Hermione… I… I just can't." Harry's voice trailed off at the end, unsure what to say. He seemed really troubled and a bit shaky.
Hermione stood there a moment, trying to figure this out. What exactly was going on with Harry that he was this upset? "Have you told her?"
"Ginny? What told her that I'm a nutter who's afraid to go outside and jumps at loud noises?" countered Harry, growing somewhat irate.
"Harry!" protested Hermione, quite irritated with him.
"It's true Hermione. It really is. Two weeks ago I went out, that was the last time I went out just so you know, and I heard a noise, maybe a car backfiring, a trash can falling, I don't even know, but whatever it was it was loud and startling. Next thing I know I had my wand out and I started firing spells in that direction before I disapparated away. I… I don't even really know what happened back there Hermione. That scares me. I'm almost as bad as Madeye was, I really am. I… I'm not really fit to be around anyone unless I know I'm safe and even them I am not that good. I can't and I won't subject Ginny to that. I won't subject anybody to that." Harry rocked himself as he spoke, his eyes never really stopping in one place, mostly checking entrances and corners. Hermione moved out of his sight line of the doors, just for safety reasons.
"So what is it that you want me to do? I suppose you owled me here for a reason?" Hermione already had a good idea given the state that Harry was in but she needed to hear it herself. Just going off of supposition was a terrible way to do anything. This was one of those situations where she really wanted to know exactly what was wanted from her before she started compulsively helping like she usually did.
Harry looked down at the dirty carpet, seeming rather sheepish and all the world like a worried little boy. "Uhm… I know this is not the best way to do this and it is a terrible imposition to you and you really have no reason to say yes to this but… uhm… could you maybe tell her what is going on and that I… I can't resume our relationship?"
Hermione rolled her eyes, asking for patience from the boys she knew so very well. So it was what she had thought and as usual one of them wanted her to fix the problem. She could say no but he really was adorable when he looked like that, however his condition had to change. This would simply not be tolerated. No if she was going to do his dirty work than she was going to ensure that he was no longer going to be dirty. It was the least she could do for herself. "Certainly Harry, I should be able to do that, but under one condition."
"Anything Hermione, anything you want. You are a life saver." Harry looked quite relieved.
"Right. Then you need to hop upstairs and take a shower and put on some clean clothes. Honestly Harry James Potter, I know you feel terrible about things and jumpy but this house is under a Fidelius Charm, you can cast protective spells on several doors, Kreacher can warn you of intruders and you can take your damn wand into the shower with you. You have no excuse to be a filthy slob!"
Harry flinched under the onslaught and meekly replied, "Yes Hermione."
"Now march upstairs. Go!" She stood and pointed in the direction of the stairs, clearly brooking no argument from him.
Harry raced upstairs as if Snatchers were after him and Hermione just snickered at the sight. Clearly she still had her Prefect voice down pretty well despite not having used it for a whole year. Besides, she had the boys trained pretty well, despite everything. Between Molly and her they just reacted to that tone quite well. Shaking her head in amusement, she called out politely, "Kreacher?"
"Yes?" The old house elf walked in, seeming pleased to see her alone. "Master Harry is not here? He is bathing? Good. What can Kreacher get you?"
"Can you get me some tea please? Thank you Kreacher." Hermione was trying to think about the problem that Harry was presenting, trying to match it to symptoms that she was familiar with. This sounded so familiar to her but she needed more to narrow this down. Maybe she could get more information from Harry?
After a moderately short while, Harry came back downstairs in different clothes, his hair still wet, and clean shaven. He was clearly embarrassed by everything and shrugged. "Sorry Hermione."
"It's okay Harry. You just need to take better care of yourself. So tell me what has been going on." She said with a smile.
He seemed a bit reluctant and then he looked away from her and started talking, "Ever since I killed Voldemort I have been having trouble sleeping. I keep having nightmares where I wake up screaming, not every night but often enough. I am tense and nervous all the time. I am worried about things. The day will be going along fine and then I'll be in a kind of… I don't know… waking dream where I am back there, in one of the battles or worse when I am there in the Forbidden Forest just before he kills me. You know about the jumpy and on edge. I… I just don't know what to do. I think I'm going crazy." Harry looked at the far wall when he said this, not really seeing her.
She was just nodding her head along with him, as all of this was making so much sense. What he was describing was falling into place with something she knew about and was worried she herself had, but clearly to a lesser degree. "Harry, I think you are describing Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and I can honestly say that I am not surprised. After everything you have been through I am surprised that you have not gotten it sooner. I think you need to see a healer, to see if they can deal with this sort of thing. And if there is no one at St. Mungo's who can help you we can get you a muggle therapist. You just describe it to them as combat trauma, disguise the magic and make yourself look older. But you need to get better."
Harry sighed. "You're right. I just… I feel weak for letting this get to me."
"Am I weak for still having nightmares and occasional flashbacks about my torture?" asked Hermione.
Harry blanched some, afraid he had offended her. "Uh… that's not what I meant."
"But that is what you said. If you are weak for that, than I must be weak for this, right?" followed up Hermione, one eyebrow raised in question, refusing to let go of this point.
"Forget I said anything." backpedaled Harry. "I'll go and find someone to help me deal with this. I promise."
"Thank you Harry." Hermione smiled in relief.
"Are you seeing someone?" Harry was clearly curious about what she was doing to deal with all of this on her end of things.
"Well, Fleur was a great help to me right after it happened. We spoke daily about everything. Luna helped as well, believe it or not. I did speak to someone for the last few weeks about my nightmares, but I only told them it was about a scary accident I had where I got hurt, since it was a muggle therapist. That has been somewhat helpful. Now that I am more settled here, I might just join you in the quest to see if there is someone at St. Mungo's." With a smile, Hermione answered him.
Harry smiled weakly at that. "That's great. Thank you so much Hermione. I knew that you more so than anybody else would be able to help me. So, how about you and Ron?"
She sighed heavily and shook her head, "That relationship is simply not going to work. What I told him before Gringotts still holds true. I just don't see him in a romantic manner. There are too many differences between us and those differences would keep us apart and ruin any chance we might have."
"I thought opposites attract?" asked Harry somewhat confused.
"Well yes that's true, to a degree, but for a lasting and strong relationship you actually need something to base it on and we really did not have anything for that. We did not have enough things in common for that to happen. You have to admit that we argue more than anything else and not in a good way. I did not enjoy the prospect of being in a couple that bickered all the time. So, just no. It would only hurt Ron and I in the long run." Hermione made sure that this was said with a note of finality, so that Harry would be able to let Ron know that there was no changing her mind if, not when he asked Harry what he thought.
Harry nodded, as if he had been expecting that particular answer. "Well, I can't say that I am surprised. I always imagined you with someone who was at least comfortable with the Library and Ron never really was. So is there anyone you have your eye on?"
Hermione thought about her dream, which she had still been having off and on, which she had been able to get a few more detail out of but nothing that was able to help her out more with identifying who it was about. All she had was red hair, a warm smile, welcoming arms, and now freckles. That really did not narrow things down very much as it could still describe all of the Weasleys that she had met. She shrugged, "No. There is no one at the moment but maybe there is the dream of someone. I just know I am not going to give up and I know that I am going to chase what I want no matter what."
Harry blinked a few times when he heard that declaration and looked more closely at her, "No matter what? Really? Who are you and what have you done with Hermione? Don't you mean as long as it doesn't break the rules or something?"
"Very funny Harry." Hermione said dryly. "No I meant exactly what I said."
"No, I mean it Hermione, you really seem different somehow. Between how you look and that…. I mean before you would do a lot as long as it wouldn't break too many rules."
Hermione looked down at her left forearm where the scar was, the scar that was still clearly visible after a month of healing, the scar the meant so much more to her than the word itself meant. She glanced back at Harry with a somewhat determined look on her face, "Yeah. Yeah I am."
Harry looked somewhat confused for a moment and then realization dawned on him. He glanced at her arm and then back at her face. "How did that whole thing change you?"
"What? Oh… yes the scar. Well, I realized I was living up to other people's ideas of me, how they saw me, what they wanted of me, and not what I wanted. Bellatrix was literally trying to write what she wanted my identity to be into me. I told myself that if I survived that only I would be allowed to write my life from now on." explained Hermione, happy to share it with Harry. This was important to her and sharing that with him made sense.
Harry grinned broadly at her. "I think that's brilliant. Yeah, if that's what you feel is best, do that. I just want you to be happy. What a great way to turn that around Hermione."
"I want you to be happy as well Harry." said Hermione, clearly still worried about him.
"I am working on it Hermione, I really am. And I promise, I will check on St. Mungo's." Harry's smile was a bit faint but it was there.
"Thank you. And if they don't have anything I will help you find someone in the muggle community." said Hermione.
"Thank you Hermione. And I hope you find that dream of yours."
She blushed and shook her head. "Honestly Harry."
Harry laughed at the look on her face, the first real laugh he had had in a while.
Hermione smiled to herself. It looked like things with Harry were not quite as bad as she had feared. Maybe she would not need to call out the big guns and drag Molly over here to deal with him. That would certainly fix things for Harry, but it was certainly more force than matters called for. No matters were likely settled, for now. Besides, if she did that, Harry might not forgive her for doing that, at least not for a while. "Well, I should get going. I was going to do some things with my family later today. I will go talk to Ginny for you tomorrow. Do you want me to tell the rest of the Weasleys as well?"
"Could you? I have no idea what to say to them at this point."
"Certainly Harry, but when I do, expect Molly to come rushing over." stated Hermione with a bit of a smile.
"Uhm… on second thought, maybe I should reconsider?"
"Honestly Harry." snickered Hermione.