Thank you everyone for your kind words and comments over the past month as I gave myself time to grieve and process. I read every single one of them, and will hold them close to my heart forever.
PIP has never been just mine. It belongs to every single one of you as well. Every reader and supporter.
Thank you.
Now... Let's dive in shall we?
TW!! - Depictions and discussions of abuse and attacks.
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The hands pinning her down into the mattress are not Master's hands. She knows that. Even through the overwhelming fear taking over her body, she knows they are not his. They are not tough like sandpaper against her skin, creating the friction filled contact that she knows by heart to her dismay. No, for one, there are more than two hands grabbing at her as she continues to scream.
Hands are all over her, pressing her down deeper into the soft material.
A material her body is begging to get out of.
But the hands aren't listening.
"Stop! Please no! Let me get off! Please let me get off! Draco!"
The fear is confusing her. Hermione can't pinpoint why exactly she knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that if she continues to be on this bed, horrible things will happen. Her mind is shaking, and chaotic, and looking for some form of escape as much as her body is.
"You are safe Ms. Granger. We are trying to help you! Please stop resisting. If you don't we will be forced to..."
"Her head is starting to bleed again. Vitals are dropping."
A strong but soft hand that is pressing into her shoulder, moves up, and pushes down on her neck.
The pain makes her eyes flash with white, and her teeth grind together as she groans and tries to free her head from all the hands.
The monster's are winning...
Just let them play with you pet.
Fighting it will only make it last longer.
" Watch her neck Andrews! The bruising and wounds are fresh and the..."
"It wasn't on purpose! She won't stop fighting. She is going to hurt herself. I know he wanted her awake, to tell us what happened, but I think we have no other choice but to..."
"I agree, Healer Frazier if you would..."
.....................
She can't move her arms. Even before she realizes she is awake, she understands her arms have been restrained.
The pressure against her wrists is familiar, but usually her hands would be bound together above to the headboard, or up in the air off of the posts of the canopy bed.
He never restrained her hands to her sides.
This is new.
It is also much brighter than normal. She must have done something to please him the night before. That was the only reason he would ever pull the curtains back on the windows. That is a good sign. That means he is happy. While his happiness did not always mean his treatment of her would be easier to handle, it was better odds at least.
Her eyes are still closed as she lays completely still, listening to her surroundings.
Terrified to wake him if he was asleep.
He should be to her right. He always slept on the right side of the bed when he allowed her to sleep with him.
Not that she wanted to.
Not one part of her wants to be on this mattress where he...
She swallows, and listens carefully for his raspy inhales and exhales. Or the sound of a quill meeting parchment over to the left where his desk is. Or for the noises of glass clinking against each other above her head where the line of potions, vials, and other horrendous experiments usually began.
She waits.
And waits.
Holding her breath the entire time, knowing that if she made it the full extent before needing to take in air, he more than likely wasn't here.
She isn't sure how much time passes before she finally has to take in oxygen, but the room stays silent the entire time.
Thank Merlin...
The realization that she is alone has the tears streaming down the side of her face within seconds. The involuntary shaking starts only moments later.
Because she is in his bed. She can feel it.
And she knows what this means, she knows he has a plan. Something in store for her, to do to her.
And she was being forced to wait for the inevitable.
Am I in trouble? Or being rewarded?
She tries to remember what must have happened to create the situation she is in, but as soon as she pictures his face; everything comes crushing forward.
Images, pictures, actions, and conversations combine, and overpower until she is squeezing her eyes and pressing her teeth together so hard her jaw cracks.
Flashes of blonde, brown curls, a tooth, vials, potions, being bent over, weight and musk surrounding her, weight and mint on top of her, pressure, tearing, pain and pleasure inside of her, marks and mouths, pet, love...
"What the..."
"Is she magically restrained to the..."
"Granger stop!"
Cool hands grab her head, and stop her from shaking it back and forth as hard as she can. Her cheeks are soaking wet under the contact, and she can't stop herself from beginning to sob loudly as the torture begins.
"I don't feel good Master, my head... Please, my head hurts. I promise I will..."
"Dolohov is dead Hermione. You kil..."
"Not the time Weasley. Granger, nothing is going to happen to you. Help me with the binds. They fucking strapped her..."
Hands are on her again.
More hands than two again.
Another game pet.
Make them all happy...
She tries to stop herself from sobbing, but nothing in her is able to fight against any reaction. Her body and mind are both out of control. Everything feels like it is happening all at once, touching her all at once, thinking and remembering everything all at once. Combining, colliding, and consuming in a way that leaves her at her own mercies. At her own ruin.
She keeps her eyes closed. She doesn't want to see what is about to happen to her. Not again. Maybe they wouldn't make her watch. Maybe they wouldn't make her participate. Sometimes they didn't. It feels like they had already given her some type of delirious inducing potion.
The pressure against her wrists disappears as she hopes they will just do what they want quickly.
"Granger, listen you are safe, okay? Come back."
How could that be true? She was in a bed. She was never safe when she was in a bed.
Her thoughts are cut off by arms sliding underneath her body. The arms lift her up, and she can't even find the strength to stop her head from falling to the side like dead weight.
"Grab Th... his healing kit. In the front right pocket there are two vials. Pull them out." The arms drop her onto a solid surface.
A floor. I am on the floor. The floor is safe. The floor is the safest place I can be...
Something soft is placed under her head, and warmth surrounds her and is tucked up to her neck.
And there are no hands touching her anymore.
Maybe she passed out for all of it. Maybe they drugged her not to remember any of it.
Either way she doesn't care, as long as it is over. The only thing she cares about is getting her mind to stop. To have whatever they gave her, quit making her brain so full and yet empty at the same time. Because it is too much. It is all too much.
A vial is pressed to her lips. And fluid enters her mouth.
"Swallow."
She does.
Another vial.
Another liquid.
"Swallow."
She does.
"Can I please stay on the floor?" Hermione can already feel her mind becoming less and quieter with the comfort of being on a safer surface.
"Yes, yes Granger. No more beds for you. I am so sorry I left. I had to go. I had to get Red's cloak and Th... Her vitals are going down already. Fucking idiots. I bet they didn't listen..."
"Why is this area still flashing?"
"That's her mind. We have to tell them to keep her off of mattresses..."
"Do you think Theo is out of the procedu..."
"I don't know Red, but we can't get in there even with the invisibility cloak..."
The words they are speaking make no sense to her. She wants them to get whatever was about to happen over with. Because if they are sticking around and talking, they were more than likely not done with her yet.
"Please, you can do whatever you want, just please knock me out. It... It hurts too much already."
The voices around her stop, and don't speak again for a few moments. She flexes her muscles in preparation to feel hands on her again, taking all over again.
"Did she just ask for you... Does she think..."
"This has happened before. When we first found her. She, she just needs time." The male voice doesn't sound confident. Whatever he is saying, she can hear the doubt as his voice cracks and becomes breathy.
She thinks she knows that voice. Even in the middle of the ringing, she can feel her body react in a different way than she expects to one of her monsters.
Maybe he isn't a mon......
........................
"How are you feeling today Miss?"
Hermione legs are moving to keep up with the person gently pulling her forward.
Her steps are unsure. Her muscles and bones ache with the ringing pain in her head that increases if she opens her eyes.
She knows someone just asked her something. She heard the words, but doesn't have the room amidst all the pain and discomfort. All of her energy is being used to force herself to take another breath within the ache. Not put together a response.
The small, gentle hands on her arm slowly rotate her body, and push against her side. Carefully lowering her into what feels like a large chair.
"There you go. Get you off the floor for a bit. Is the ringing starting again?"
Hermione tries to nod her head, but the action sends an electrifying type of heat down the back of her neck. She winces and lets out a moan that the person must take as an answer to their question.
"Hmm... We will ask the head Healer about moving your intake from every 6 to every 4 hours instead. That should help keep the pain at bay. Open your mouth Miss."
Open your mouth...
Her body stiffens automatically. Bile starts to form in her throat and burn. She jerks out of the hands saying the words that send every nerve on guard. They must be one of the monsters. They must be to make her feel this way.
"Oh dear, okay, okay. I am sorry Miss. I will not use those words again. Can you please take the potions I am placing in your hand whenever you are ready? They will help with the pain."
A cool smooth object is pressed against her palm. For a moment she pauses. This may be another game. This may be some horrible new experiment of his. More than likely it was. When did he ever give her anything to really help her?
I don't care. I need this all to stop.
She tips the vial, and swallows. She repeats the movement five more times.
"How do you feel now Miss?"
"Less..." The painful ringing is still there. Still burning, but it feels almost pushed back or covered. Turning it into more of an ache. Making room for more than just the pain. But there is nothing in the space now. She tries to pull a thought forward, to feel it form and see the images that should come with it, but those areas of her seem to be pushed back as well. Like that part of her, and the area to make them a reality, have a huge fracture in between them. Close, but not close enough to be one again.
The sound of a door opening makes her flinch, and finally venture to open her eyes.
To a room.
Not the room.
And to a man smiling at her.
Not the man.
This one is a bit older. With more grey hair mixed in with his black. Glasses too, that he pushes up his nose as he walks over to the side of her chair, looking from the floating diagnostic chart, then back down to the parchment in his hands.
He is wearing healer robes. They are built differently than normal ones. More inner pockets, lighter material, and spelled against getting in the way of their jobs.
His lips purse together as he looks back up at the diagnostic chart before nodding slightly, and turning his attention to her.
"It is good to see you awake and aware. How are we feeling today?"
"What is going on?" Her voice cracks, and she coughs slightly as she turns her head to take in more of the space. Noticing the tray of food to the side, the bare walls, the sterile feeling in the air.
The woman who must have been the one to help her into the chair, reaches for the cup sitting on the table. "Here, have a drink."
Hermione watches the healer begin to pick up the cup. She sees the woman pause, and start to peel off what seems to be a piece of parchment attached.
A note...
The healer gives it a perplexed look as she begins to crumple it into her hand.
"No! Don't!" Hermione screams, reaching out to stop her from destroying it. For some reason... For some reason the thought of that piece of paper being destroyed makes her stomach twist.
The healer jumps at her actions. Startled by the volume and determination on Hermione's face as she grabs the parchment from her hands. She presses it into her skin, trying to smooth out the crinkles, and small tears beginning in a few places. She has to protect it.
"Miss, I am pretty sure the kitchen forgot to take the order sheet off of the tray before..."
"No. It... It is more than that. Please, just let me keep it." She covers the entire sheet with her hands as she looks up through teary eyes at the healers staring at her with wariness.
The man shakes his head and then takes another step towards her.
"No problem. No one is going to take it from you okay? It is yours. I am William Frazier." He pulls a wand out of his robes and accios a chair over. Flashing her another reassuring smile, he sits down, and flips through the parchment in his hands. "I have a few questions I would like to ask you. I am also here to answer any questions you may have as well, but we will start with mine if that is alright with you?"
The other healer holds out the cup of water to her. She takes it and swallows a few sips. Holding the water in her throat; coating the dry skin at the top of her mouth that her tongue keeps sticking to.
"Okay." She says before taking another sip of the water. Trying to make her voice sound like her own again.
William nods his head and dips his quill into the ink pot. "What is your name?"
Her hand freezes bringing the cup up to her mouth. Is he serious?
What kind of questions are these? Why is he asking me such basic things?
"Hermione Granger."
He nods his head, and she watches him write something down on the forms.
"Do you know where you are, Ms. Granger?"
"St. Mungo's."
His quill meets the parchment again, and scratches against the surface for a few seconds.
"Do you know what day it is?"
Hermione opens her mouth to answer the simple request, but nothing comes out. Because... Because she has no idea what day it is.
"I... I don't know."
He smiles again, and writes. Like what she said wasn't worrisome at all.
Even when she was in the forests, stuck in a tent, away from all civilization for months, she always knew what day it was. But as she tries to make sense of time, of recent time, she doesn't see anything.
"Do you remember what happened to bring you here Ms. Granger?"
She presses the sheet of parchment she saved into her skin harder, as she rubs her thumb up and down the familiar texture.
Trying to remember.
Trying to pull forward the events that must have happened to bring her here. She feels them. She feels the memories there. So many of them, all too close together.
But she can't get them to come forward. She can't cross some invisible precipice that keeps them from being tangible.
Hermione looks up to see Frazier waiting patiently with that damn smile on his face. Looking at her in a way she hates. With pity. Full of pathetic pity for her inability to think.
"I know it!" She screams, sitting up straighter. Pushing herself to try and bring anything forward. "I know something... something big happened. I can feel it. It is like when you are trying to think of a word and..."
"And it is at the tip of your tongue, but you cannot form it into existence?" William finishes her thought. Acting like he has heard her say this before.
That frustrates her too. The condescending attitude he seems to have with her makes her roll her eyes.
For some reason he laughs at that, which only serves to piss her off even more.
Her mind seemed to not be working. What in Merlin's name could be funny about that?
"And there's the eye roll..." He mumbles under his breath as he continues to write. "Okay. I am through with my questions for now. Do you have any you would like to ask me?"
"Why can't I remember anything?"
Instead of answering, he holds out the forms he had been writing on. Hermione takes them and looks down to see her name, age, and other basic information at the top of the sheet. She skims down until she starts to read a prognosis. Hers.
Oh my gods...
A finger points down to a section towards the bottom of the page. "What you are experiencing is actually the opposite of memory loss. It is more of a memory overload that occurs once the potions wear off. You seem to experience everything at a single time due to all the trauma and damage done to your mind. The fact that you are an occlumens more than likely saved you from irreversible damage. We honestly have never seen anything like this before, and are learning alongside you."
He slides the first page out and points to another section. It outlines what he was describing. How the charts would show her mind going into a panic without being sedated by the potion regimen listed below.
She flips to the next page.
And then the next.
And then the next.
The healer starts to talk again as he points to different areas. Listing off in a sensitive way all of the things that were apparently wrong with her.
Mental trauma.
Manipulation of memories.
Obliviation.
Seizures.
Attacks.
Scars.
Wounds.
He makes his way through what was done to her. She thinks she should be more surprised by the mention of sexual trauma. Or the burns. Or the fractured state of her mind, but she isn't. It is as if her body already knows all of this. That even without the knowledge, something inside her remembered and had taken her past the stage of any of this shocking her.
Or maybe that is all the potions making me numb...
Hermione hears his voice change as he stops telling her things, and starts asking again.
Asking things that really don't make sense.
Questions like who was responsible? Did she remember who did this to her? Are there any names or images of specific people that keep overwhelming her mind?
Hermione doesn't answer any of them. Just a short shake of her head.
She knows that isn't what they want, or what they are hoping for.
And her thoughts are proven correct as she watches the healer's share a look before William tips his glasses up his nose again.
"I will let him know she still does not seem to be able to..." He begins to whisper even quieter as he stands up out of the chair. Cutting off her ability to hear the rest of his sentence. The woman nods, and he turns back towards her with another smile. "The world is overjoyed with the discovery that you are still alive Ms. Granger, even though we are all still grieving the loss of Harry Potter. Discovering that you somehow survived this past year has brought everyone a sense of belief again."
"Harry is dead." The words leaving her are a whisper. Not that she means for them to be. But somehow the words feel like a secret. Like they should always be whispered if spoken out loud.
"Yes he was killed during the final battle. I apologize. I shouldn't have mentioned that, but you seemed to rem... Do you remember any of this Ms. Granger?"
She starts shaking her head even before he finishes. That didn't sound right. Something... Something about what he just said doesn't sound right at all.
"Hmm... Well, we left you some newspapers to help you take in everything that has happened." He points over to the floor again, and she sees the small stack he is referring to. A stack that looks out of sorts. Like they have been gone through before. Possibly many times before.
And it hits her what this all is.
What is actually happening.
"We have had this conversation before haven't we?"
The healer's both smile softly at her again. "Yes Ms. Granger. We have. Two times a day for the past three days."
Her hands start rubbing her small piece of parchment as she slumps into the chair. She doesn't remember any of those events. Not at all. She looks around the room again with this new knowledge. She must be on the second floor, in the same ward as Neville's parents. Because that is where they place all the patients with minds that could not be trusted.
If I can't trust my own mind, what can I trust?
"But that is not uncommon in extreme trauma, or brain injury cases, and we are very hopeful, due to the consistent increase in your awareness, that it is a temporary issue."
The healer walks over, and places the stack of newspapers on the tray, while pulling out another one from inside his robes and handing it to her. "Please do not spend too much time reading. Your mind needs extensive rest if we want to heal it. I will be back this evening, and we can discuss any other questions you may have."
"Won't they be the same ones they have been every other damn time?"
He laughs, and moves the tray closer to the side of her chair. Giving her easier access to the information and food. She notices her pudding is almost gone. Yet, nothing else has been touched.
"Possibly. But you seem more... yourself this morning. More than any other time. I am hopeful that this is a sign your body and brain are both starting to heal."
He shoots her another pity filled smile that makes her grimace before he turns to leave.
"I am going to freshen up your room a bit, but I would like you to take this before I leave okay?" The female healer sets the vial down on the table, and pulls out her wand, changing the linens on the bed and floor, and moving into the lavatory attached to the room.
Hermione reaches for the oldest newspaper off of the bottom of the stack, to see a large picture of Voldemort's dead body taking up the entire front page. She skims over the pages quickly, taking in the information that should be startling her. The dark wizard was finally dead. Ron had been the one to kill him. The war was officially declared over. Trials were beginning soon for some of the arrested Death Eaters, while others were simply being placed in Azkaban, without a public trial. Alecto Carrow somehow escaped. It was a lot. A lot of world changing information. But yet as she reads, she feels like the words only support or acknowledge what she already deeply knows. That they ignite recognition in her, without any explanation to why she feels that way at all.
"Okay Ms. Granger, let's have you take this potion to help you sleep. Would you like to rest in the chair or back on... on the floor?"
"Chair."
The healer nods her head, and hands her the vial that Hermione quickly consumes. She reaches to give her the empty vial, but the woman points to the scrap of paper she is still holding close to her chest.
"I can throw that away for you if you would like."
"No, I want to keep it." Her eyes are already starting to feel heavier as the healer nods again, and says something about coming back in a few hours, before shutting the door.
The room is quiet. And still. Almost stagnant in sound and presence, and it makes Hermione feel alone more than she ever has before.
She doesn't even have her memories to keep her company.
What happened to me?...
She pulls the small piece of parchment off of her chest, rubbing until it is as smooth as she can make it. The surface is blank. No message, or order, or anything at all.
Completely void of anything that made it worth keeping.
Just like me...
She flips it over, and begins to internally berate herself for keeping the stupid piece of waste, until a mark has her pausing.
She notices it is a series of marks now that she is looking closer. Differing in sizes and shapes. Some are nothing more than a small dot, while others are more like long dashes. And they are all in a line. Kind of like a sentence. They have structure, purpose. Because the marks are saying something.
"Real..."
The word has weight that she feels automatically. It creates a sensation within that has her emotions rising to the surface even in the midst of the potion trying to shut her body down.
This all means something I can feel it. Even if I can't see it, or fully understand it, I feel it.
Hermione's senses a tear traveling down the side of her face, as she keeps looking at the note, when she hears a noise from the other side of her room.
She looks up just in time to see two people appearing from underneath what could only be Harry's invisibility cloak.
Two people she recognizes immediately.
"Draco... Ginny?"
"Hey at least she recognizes us this time." Ginny says as she walks over, and swivels in the chair next to Hermione. She looks at the tray of food, and picks up the remaining dessert, dipping a spoon into it. "Damn it, I really do hate vanilla."
Draco on the other hand has not moved. Her eyes meet his, and she notices his hands keep flexing at his sides like he is on guard, and acting as if she was something dangerous.
"Why were you both hiding?"
"Because they only allow immediate family in apparently. We take turns between your room and Teddy's."
"Theo." The name and weight all slips out at once.
Ginny licks the edge of the spoon and smiles at her. "You remember Theo too? He hasn't woken up yet and... and they say it is up to him now. So we are just waiting. Waiting fucking sucks."
No. It isn't that she remembers him, but once again, it is more like she feels him. Can sense the pieces of her that he belongs in.
That he means something to her.
Just like how she feels as she watches Ginny use her finger to clean off the sides of the pudding container. Just like how she feels as she locks her eyes with his grey sparking pools again.
He means something too...
Well Hermione, he has always meant something to you...
"Hi."
She watches his shoulders relax, and she hears him let out his breath from across the room.
Her neck is starting to struggle to hold her head upright, and she lets her body fall deeper into the back of the chair. Draco watches for a moment before he starts to walk over, picking up the blanket off the floor on his way.
"The healer is right by the way, you are much more yourself this morning than other times." Ginny says through a mouthful of something from her plate.
"Other times... So I don't remember you two being here..."
Ginny scoffs, cutting off her sentence. "You aren't able to remember a lot about all of us yet. But it has only been a few days. Ferret here says it took longer the first time this happened."
Hermione is starting to struggle to keep her eyes open. Her eyelids fall to meet for a few moments before she forces them to raise again. To land directly on Draco Malfoy who is holding out a blanket towards her.
"May I?"
She nods her head, and he carefully places the blanket around her body. Tucking it into the sides to keep her as warm as possible.
He crouches down in front of her, and pulls a few stray strands of her hair back behind her ear. "Glad you are still alive Granger."
Her smile is broken by the giggle that overtakes her. But why was she laughing? Nothing about what he said was inherently funny, but as she looks back to see him also smiling up at her, she thinks maybe this means something too.
Maybe... Maybe she could trust what she was feeling. To help her figure out everything.
She untucks her hand, and shows him the scrap of paper she had saved. The smile on his face grows as he sees it, and he nods slightly.
"You?" She whispers.
"Yes."
Her eyes close again, starting to lose the battle to keep them open.
"And the note... the code... it..."
"Real. Yes, it is real Granger."
......................
The floating chart next to her head starts to flash again. Not that she needs to see it to know that the word is having an affect on her. The shaking, and heat rising to the surface of her skin is evidence enough.
"Are you okay Hermione? Would you like me to stop?"
"No, keep going."
She could handle this. She could do this.
If this world renowned healer believed this experiment would help in giving them an idea of how to start working towards healing her mind, then she would do what was needed.
Sipping the potion to steady her vitals.
Closing her eyes.
Listening to the words and names, and seeing how her body responded to them.
A baseline as he called it.
To help work through and separate what was real and not within her mind as it continued to overwhelm her with memories based off of truth, but distorted and mixed into confusion.
"Okay, ready?"
She agrees as she closes her eyes, and takes a deep breath.
"Bed."
Her fingers tighten around the arms of the chair as her nerves begin to panic. The shaking and the heat start within seconds. She squeezes her eyelids together as images wrapped in fear press within the ringing of her brain.
They had lowered her doses to see the natural progress her mind made on it's own within the last few days she was at St. Mungo's.
"Drink Hermione... Statement number 14 resulted in heart rate increase of 58, blood pressure increase of 29/5, substantial impact. Proof of meaning."
The charmed quill continues to write as she swallows another sip of the potion. They wait the two minutes again in silence.
She liked this new healer. He was different from William, Helen, Wendy and the other healers. He didn't give her smiles that made her feel small and weak. Or talked in a way that grated against her skin. He looked at her as a person, and spoke like they were partners within a project.
Like she was an equal instead of someone less, someone crazy.
"Okay, ready?"
She closes her eyes again.
The words swallow, pet, love, master, make him happy, mint, cigarettes, strawberries, tooth, cock, cunt, silver, chains, and jersey all are labeled with substantial or extreme levels of impact. Proof of meaning.
While other words he says such as pillow, coffee, foot, sunset, dress, and alcohol are labeled with little to no impact.
"We are looking to your body for guidance." He had said as he explained his different approach to handling healing the mind. "What can your body tell us, even when your mind can't? I am working under the belief that we store people and events in more than just our memories. We store them in our very beings. Important moments and relationships become a part of us in a way. Does that make sense Hermione?"
She agreed automatically. Over the course of the past few days she had said very similar things to herself as her body responded to people and situations in clear ways. Even if her mind wasn't clear as to why.
"Okay I am going to start on names now..."
Bill Sanders: little to no impact.
Shelly Jamison: little to no impact.
Harry Potter: substantial impact. Proof of meaning.
Ronald Weasley: substantial impact. Proof of meaning.
Dean Thomas: little to no impact.
Bellatrix Lestrange: substantial impact. Proof of meaning.
Antonin Dolohov: extreme levels of impact. Proof of meaning.
Ginevra Weasley: substantial impact. Proof of meaning.
Theodore Nott Jr.: substantial impact. Proof of meaning.
Barty Crouch: little to no impact.
Padma Patil: little to no impact.
Draco Malfoy: extreme levels of impact. Proof of meaning.
Amycus Carrow: substantial impact, Proof of meaning.
Narcissa Malfoy: little to no impact.
Gilderoy Lockhart: little to no impact.
Alecto Carrow: substantial impact. Proof of meaning.
Nancy Steele: little to no impact.
Voldemort: extreme levels of impact. Proof of meaning.
...................
She rolls her face into the soft pillow under her head. Taking in a deep breath of the familiar mint scent.
A smell that makes sense.
Hermione slowly opens her eyes to see the ugly faded blue tiled flooring. She doesn't look up yet.
The lights are too much. It didn't matter whether her eyes were open or shut, the magnitude of the brightness was overwhelming for her head.
A head that is still pounding with pressure while feeling empty and so confusingly full at the same time.
She pushes her face into the pillow again. Trying to dissuade some of the fullness she is feeling. Maybe if she presses on just the right spot hard enough, it'll all go away. All stop fighting inside her head. Give her a moment of peace. Room to form an actual thought.
Just one...
Please, just give me enough space to think about, about...
Hermione pulls her face up off of the pillow, and turns her head to look to her right, but flinches.
Because she isn't alone.
Not on the floor.
He is on the floor with her.
Fast asleep if the small wisp of platinum blonde hair being raised up, floating in his exhale for a few seconds, before it falls back down to rest against his eye, was to be believed.
"Draco Malfoy." She whispers.
That name makes sense leaving her mouth too. It shouldn't though. Why would the name of her frenemy feel so appropriate in this moment?
His face seems harder than usual even in sleep. Like the lines are tight, and on edge. His porcelain skin appears paler too if that is possible. She moves her eyes from his face down his body. Noticing the wand in his hand. Fingers wrapped tightly around it, pointing towards the closed door of the room.
He looks older somehow. Not really in age per say. But as if his body has been aged with events rather than time.
Her thoughts are interrupted as she notices the lock of hair stop moving above his face. She looks up to meet his silver eyes looking straight into her own.
"Granger." He rolls over and keeps staring at her warily. Like he doesn't know what to do or how to really respond. There weren't many times she found herself in the presence of an unsure Draco Malfoy. He usually emitted an air of confidence and assuredness that would make her eyes roll. But now he doesn't look like him. He looks lost for some reason.
Maybe she was still asleep. Maybe this was a very realistic feeling dream. Not that she would ever admit it to the man in front of her, but it wouldn't be the first time she would be dreaming about him.
Over the years he had crept into her consciousness in many ways. Taking up much more room than anyone would guess, or that she hoped people realized.
Her secret.
That in a room of classmates, somehow her eyes would always find him. Even when she didn't want them to. Even when he was being cruel and nasty to her. Even when she was furious with him, and kept her distance. For some reason, her eyes always searched for silver. To make sure they were still there.
And she hated herself for it.
Hated herself every morning she would wake up with memories of those eyes being attached to a version of Draco that only existed inside her mind.
A combination of her fantasies and little moments between them over the years that she saw worth in holding onto. That helped her rationalize and believe that they meant something. That they held more weight to them than some of the horrible memories with him. She would play them on repeat. Over, and over, and over again sometimes. Until she finally figured out a way to shut off her brain and fall asleep, and even then, she kept thinking of him.
Maybe that is what is happening now. She can't think of any other rational reason Draco Malfoy would be laying next to her on the floor, or why her head would feel the way it does.
"You look different..."
He pauses his stretching to turn towards her. "What do you mean?"
She shrugs, and bends her arms to tuck them in between her head and the pillow. Pulling her thick hair off of her sweaty neck, as she closes her eyes again. Her head feels better with her eyes closed.
"You look more tired than you usually do in my dreams."
A pause.
A long pause.
"You dream about me huh?"
Oh damn it...
Why did I say that?
The foul prick doesn't need his head getting any larger.
She snorts, trying to recover some semblance of pride. "Don't flatter yourself, Malfoy."
"I don't have to, you just did for me."
Hermione can feel his eyes on her, but she keeps hers closed. Not wanting to see the smile she is sure he has on his face as she senses her cheeks starting to heat.
"So when did you start dreaming about me, Granger?"
How honest should she be? It's not like it matters anyways she thinks. Not with this definitely being a dream.
"Long before I ever wanted to."
He lets out a small humorless laugh. "Another way we are one in the same."
They are the softest words he has spoken, but they affect her more than the others. Did he just admit to dreaming about her as well?
Granger, remember, this is just a dream.
He isn't real.
Yeah but this is a lot more fun than the pain Hermione.
"So you have dreamt about me too?" She asks as she nuzzles into the crook of her elbow.
"Once or twice."
"Liar."
He scoffs. "Which part?"
"The once or twice part. It has been more than that."
She hears him laugh again, and move closer to her side.
"How many is a reasonable number then?"
"58."
His breath catches in his throat. And he doesn't say anything for a while. Did she say something wrong?
"Granger... Why, that number? Why did you just say that number?"
She shrugs her shoulders. "I don't know. It was the first number that came to mind." This was a weird dream to have. Usually her dreams of him went a different way than this. Although, the banter seems pretty accurate. "Tell me one of the dreams you had about me."
Since they started talking, her head felt slightly better. Like her concentration was pulled to him rather than the ringing that was starting to make her skull ache.
She hears him readjust and move so his arm is grazing her side.
"Remember those tickets I... The Weasel gave you? To that manuscript exhibit in Italy?"
The words sound real, but no images or memories come into her mind.
"I think so. That, feels right. But I am having trouble seeing it. In sixth year correct?"
"Yes in sixth year. I used to dream about... seeing you there. Watching your face and eyes catch on fire with everything they were taking in. Listening to you tell me things we both realized I also knew, but listening anyways because witnessing you enjoying knowledge is... well, dream worthy."
Hermione feels her cheeks becoming warmer. That was much more intimate than she was expecting. She is glad he hadn't asked for one of her recurring dreams. Him teaching her how to ride a broomstick seemed insufficient at this point.
"There was going to be an entire area dedicated to the making of Hogwarts: A History. I dreamt you would spend most of the time in that room."
"It is one of my favorite books."
"Yes, I know."
She smiles at the description of the dream. It was a nice dream. Realistic too, but while the tickets seem real, the actual exhibit does not.
"I didn't go, did I?"
She hears him let out a long breath. "No you did not. Apparently Potter needed you and the wanker to stay at Hogwarts, and nobody fucking told me. I thought you were gone. You were supposed to be gone."
"Why did that matter? Why did you want me gone?"
He doesn't answer her.
She opens her eyes and sees him playing with something in his hand. She looks closer and recognizes the pin immediately. Recognizes the childlike handwriting spelling out the four letters. The colors she had chosen very meticulously. The damn sharp needle on the back that pricked her finger more than a dozen times as she placed them forcefully onto her friends' school robes as a form of activism.
How did he get one of those?
I... I think I gave it to him recently.
"Hermione..." She blinks at the sound of her first name leaving his lips. He never called her by her first name. Not even in her dreams. The ringing starts to grow again, filling her head with more than the pain as she meets his gaze. "You aren't dreaming. This is real."
For some reason, her eyes begin to water. Because if this was real then... Then she wasn't okay. If this was real then her mind wasn't working right. A feeling that seems way more familiar to her than she wants to acknowledge.
She knows he is speaking the truth. But she doesn't want to accept everything that comes with it. Everything about herself that must be truly broken for this to be her current state.
She tries to remember. She lets herself focus on the ringing. Giving it the attention it seems to crave, and trying to look around it. To see how she had ended up where she currently was. As soon as she tries, it all starts coming forward:
Draco, Theo, Dolohov, Ginny, Ron, Voldemort, Blaise, Pansy, Daphne, Harry, Kingsley.
Their faces combine with words and events. With flashes of magic, and the pain of needles. The taste of putrid experiments, and the taste of burnt chocolate. The feel of forceful taking, and the feel of endearing intimacy. Of cigarettes burning on her skin, and in her mouth. Of the sound of screaming, and then of laughter. The act of wrapping a sheet around her neck, and of tossing it on top of chairs.
Her hands go up to the side of her head and start squeezing. Trying to make it all stop. She needs it all to stop.
"How? What... It all happened didn't it? It is all happening in my head. Right now. All... all over again..."
She feels hands grabbing her, and pulling her body into a chest. Arms are wrapping around her and squeezing her tightly. Her entire body is enveloped in a refreshing coolness that overwhelms her with security and safety as soon as she breathes him in, and presses her face into his chest.
"Shhh... It's okay Granger. Don't try yet. Give yourself more time."
Draco's hands start pressing into her back in a pattern of soothing circles. She likes the feeling of being wrapped up in him. The contact feels like an anchor to here, to him.
"Can you tell me another story?"
"Sure."
"Can you tell me mine? Do, do you know mine?"
Maybe it would be easier if someone was directing her through all of the moments.
His hands gently rubbing up and down her back stop. "It isn't a very happy story, Granger."
She sighs into his chest. "I didn't think so... But pieces of it are happy right?"
"Yes. Some pieces."
"The pieces with you. The... moments I feel with you seem happy. Is that real?"
She can see them in the midst of all the chaos and fractures. Little slices of joy, and happiness. And almost all of them involve him.
He presses his face into the top of her head, and takes in a deep breath. "They are more than real. They are everything."
"Does it, do you think it will end happy?"
"It has to." He says it with a matter of fact tone. Like it is the only outcome that he is giving space for.
"How Draco?"
"Because the war is over. The Dark Lord is dead, and no one..."
"But the war in me isn't."
Who was she if she didn't have her mind? How could she live the rest of her life in between feeling empty and overwhelmed? Shut off from any meaning or consumed by it to the point she was unable to breathe? This wasn't who she was meant to be. This wasn't who she wanted to be.
"Then we fight. One battle at a time. You have done it before."
"I have?"
He nods into the top of her head, and she swears she feels his lips press against her hair. But maybe she is mistaken.
"Did you help me?"
"I hope I did."
"It feels like you did. I have a new mind healer who says I should trust the way I feel."
"I think that is a great idea."
She needed to hear that. Some reassurance that she could trust something within herself. That she wasn't lost, trapped inside this body that didn't seem like her most of the time. Until he was here, or Ginny was here. Because... They have been here before. Yes, she knows they have both been here before.
"I feel that way around Ginny too. Where is she?"
"Theo woke up. He is in a wheelchair due to the healers resetting and fixing some of the repairs to his father's abuse he tried healing himself when he was a younger, and was less knowledgeable. So she is probably accidentally meeting and wheeling him down the halls for some fresh air."
That makes her smile. The image of the two of them together makes her feel that warm sensation in the pit of her stomach. Similar to the burning the man holding her makes her feel.
"They helped me too. Didn't they?"
"Yes they did. And we all will continue to help you. Red is going to Nott's to get the potion needed to get your magic back. And I'll try to find your wand."
Hermione raises off of his chest to look up at him. His arms allow her to pull away, but they do not drop from holding onto her waist. They flinch slightly. Like he is battling trying to decide what to do with them. Whether to keep the contact or not. She wants him to keep it. She is feeling better than she has in a long time as he surrounds her.
"Did you teach me occlumency?"
He smiles softly and nods.
"Can you... help me remember or learn again? I think it would help if I could control everything."
"Absolutely." His hands travel under her crazy hair and pull it off of her neck to give it air. Like he knows how hot the area always became in her sleep.
Because he knows you.
And you know him.
Even if you can't remember it all.
"I have to go. The healers will be here for their rounds any minute, and I am sure Red is creating trouble. But I will be back after and we can start practicing okay?"
She slides out of his lap and agrees, but his hands in her hair, and holding her waist hesitate before breaking contact. His eyes look down to her lips for a moment too long, and Hermione feels it impact every nerve of her body. In a different way than what she was becoming used to feeling.
In a good way.
"Okay, stay alive Draco."
His breath visibly catches again, as he starts to stand. But he doesn't say anything back to her. Just turns and sends her a quick wink before disappearing underneath the invisibility cloak.
......................
"I swear ferret, if you drop me, I am going to hex you so bad, you will need one of these rooms yourself!"
Hermione blinks at the scene in front of her. Having trouble keeping up with all the movement, voices, and emotions happening.
"Stop squirming, and hold still for fuck sakes. If you fall, it is your own fault. You are even worse than Granger."
Yes, she realizes seeing Ginny sitting on the shoulder of Draco Malfoy should not, in any world, really be believable, but it feels right somehow.
"Gingersnap no, every other bulb. Not two in a row. Put that one back. She needs some light."
A twisting noise, followed by a screech, has Hermione squeezing her eyes shut again. The ringing in her head increases with the noise. The lights were already too much for her without the horrible sound. But closing them doesn't really help either. It only makes the inside of her eyelids turn a static like orange that thumps with the pain.
"Ouch! Bloody hell Malfoy, get your hand out of my arse! I am personally not opposed to arse play, but you right as hell will not be the first."
"Trust me, it was an accident. Only fair, since Nott's hands have been all over my witch's arse."
His witch's...
I don't like the sound of that.
"Excuse me what? Teddy, you touched her arse?"
"One time! One time, and I hated every second of it. Trust me Gingersnap, yours is better."
Draco scoffs. "No it isn't."
"Okay, congratulations! You both answered correctly! Now drop me gently, ferret."
The static orange isn't crawling all over the inside of her eyelids anymore. It is now softer, a less jarring dullness. Hermione opens her eyes and feels automatic relief. Her face must be showing the huge impact the lighting has had because Theo nods his head in satisfaction, and pulls his healing kit off of the back of his wheelchair.
"I'll talk to Wendy, and make sure they keep the lighting like this. You should probably say something too when they come in for rounds later. Don't let them convince you otherwise okay? The room needs to stay darker to keep your headaches from becoming too much." He pulls out a group of vials from a pocket and starts taking the tops off.
Ginny tosses the last bulb into the waste bin in the corner of the room, and moves behind Theo's wheelchair looking over Hermione's notes. "Oh Wendy? So we are on a first name basis with the young blonde healer, are we?"
Theo hands Hermione a vial, and doesn't seem to pick up on Ginny's tone.
"Yeah, she is pretty nice."
Hermione places the quill and parchment down, and tips the vial back. Ever since Theo started giving her potions, working through the fragments and panic like state of her mind was becoming more manageable. They were taking advantage of those small moments of clarity right now.
"How are you feeling? The healers aren't supposed to be back for another hour if you want to keep going." Theo gives her a half smile before pulling out one of his large tomes and placing it on the empty bed that had become more of a desktop for them all. He flips his head to the side, pushing his wave of brown curls out of his eye before opening the book towards the back.
The action sparks recognition in her.
She picks up the quill and parchment quickly as images start coming into her mind with the ringing.
A balcony. The sun warm against her skin as she spins around and around. A pair of scissors. Humming one of her father's favorite songs. Theo and Draco coming out. Theo sitting in front of her laughing. The smell of her mum's famous hot... no burnt chocolate.
Wait, burnt chocolate?
Why do I want to call it that?
She relays the images as best as she can to the three in front of her. Theo and Draco both seem to be listening intently while Ginny grabs the pudding cup off of her tray.
"So, real or not real?" She asks.
"Real, but it is at least two separate occurrences combined I believe."
Theo shakes his head in agreement with Draco, and reaches over to poke his finger at the real column.
"Yeah the sun and spinning is the first memory. Almost got me killed because I was staring at you twirling around." He shoots a look at Draco before turning back to her. "And the other images all seem to be from when you cut my hair. I need another one sometime soon by the way. After we get you out of this loony bin."
Hermione writes down the two memories into the real column of the paper. To help her remember. She and Draco had been working to strengthen her occluding skills. She was able to start creating an organizational system again, but the quiet never lasted long before the ringing and chaos started. That is why she has the list. To help her remember when the memories resurfaced and collided with what was real, what was combined, and what was not real at all.
The healers still left her newspapers every day to go through, but they made her body respond in weird ways that she had trouble understanding. After asking the group in front of her why the stories about Harry made her feel all twisty inside, Theo and Draco agreed she should stop reading the papers. That the explanation was one they both knew, but was... heavy. Heavier than they thought she was ready for.
Theo reaches deep into his bag and starts to pull out another large tome.
"Teddy, stop. The healers said no heavy lifting." Ginny sets down her snack and takes the book out of his hands, passing it off to Draco.
Theo scoffs as he reaches for Ginny's hand and interlaces their fingers together.
"That is for normal people. Not people who have almost died a couple of times a year since they can remember. Trust me, Ginevra, I honestly feel better than I have in a long time."
Hermione watches his face light up in a different way as he looks at the redhead next to him. It is a look she understands.
"I love you, don't I?" As she saw his face change, it hit her. She has said those words to him. She knows it. Her love for him was like family.
Theo turns his head, and gives her a full grin. "Yeah you do. And I love you too. You know you are the only person to ever say that to me?"
That can't be true. That makes her feel wrong inside. Like what he is saying belongs in the not real category.
"That... That feels wrong." She whispers. Slowly writing her love for Theo into the real column.
As she thinks of Theo, more things start pressing forward in the ringing. Some images fly by too fast for her to make sense of, but she catches a few here and there before she has to pull forward out of the chaos again. She takes a couple deep breaths before dipping her quill into the ink. Feeling a smile forming on her face at the less heavy, and also surprising, things she was able to see.
Should I say it?
Come on Hermione, you have to.
We have to know where to put it.
"Did you wank to Ginny in the shower before you met her?"
The humor in Theo's face disappears, and travels onto Ginny's as she spits out the pudding onto the clean bedspread in front of her.
"You did what now?!"
"Evil. Witch." Theo says without looking up from his book.
The loud laughter from both Ginny and Draco has her joining in. Theo's ears become redder and redder in a way that shows her, without a doubt, that the memory goes in the real column.
The steady laugh continuing to leave Draco's mouth has her mesmerized, and also starts sparking matching moments she has with the noise.
She shakes her head back and forth at the memory.
One she knows cannot be real.
There is no way.
No way on this wizarding world I know that information about Draco Malfoy.
"Do you have ticklish nipples?"
Draco's laugh stops abruptly. The room goes silent for a while, before Theo and Ginny both start laughing uncontrollably again. Theo pushes himself back in his chair so hard, he almost tips himself, before Ginny catches him in time, while also still holding her stomach.
Draco is now looking at her very unamused. "No."
"Mate, your nipples are..."
"Shut up Nott. They are not fucking ticklish. That goes in the not real category, Granger. Write it down now."
Liar.
But how does she know that?
When would she ever be touching his nipples to know they are ticklish unless...
"The ferret has ticklish nipples! Oh Hermione, I know this memory overload shit isn't funny, but damn I am loving learning all of these snake's secrets." Ginny says hitting her hand off of the bed as she tries to breathe.
But Hermione can't focus on the amusement of the group anymore as her mind begins to overwhelm her with lots of skin. Bare skin. Against a rock. Staring back at her in a mirror. On top of her. Behind her as it thunders. Under her. Of musk and mint.
"Have..." She shuts her mouth quickly from asking the question. Because while some of the memories leave her feeling the good kind of acknowledgment, others leave her wanting to crawl out of her body. Wanting to get away from the contact and images. This is one of the areas that continues to cause her the most confusion. Also the most pain. She blinks and a tear falls down off the bridge of her nose.
A cool hand presses underneath her chin to raise her gaze to his.
"Ask Granger."
She is scared to ask. It was easier not to know the truth in this area. It was one of the themes of her story the mind healer said she may never want to remember. But how those areas were the most important to separate the good from the bad, and to work through with time, when ready.
"I... I don't know if I'm ready yet."
His face falls for a brief moment, before he plasters on a cold expression. One that shows no emotion at all. It is too easy for him to do that in her opinion. She had seen that face appearing more often than not over the past couple of days.
"Okay." It is all he says as he pulls his hand away, and opens the book.
They are doing their own research into possible ramifications to the injuries done within her brain by Voldemort and also all of her trauma. Draco had entered her mind and felt the lingering presence of Voldemort's magic. They share the same thought with the healers that it could possibly be extracted. Making the cracks and collisions less inside her.
Theo told her how they did something similar for Draco not too long ago. But he believed since it was her brain, more research needed to be done before trying anything.
Plus it would give her more time to strengthen her mind again.
But if she wanted to get better, she had to start asking the harder questions. Address some of the most painful memories that continue to overpower her consciousness, and leave her debilitated.
Work through what was real and not real about the events.
Her thoughts are cut off as the wand on the bed begins to vibrate.
"Fuck, they are coming early."
The group in front of her start grabbing their belongings hurriedly.
"We all can't fit under the cloak, what do we..."
"You and Draco go under in the corner. I'll stay. What are they going to do? Kick me out of St. Mungo's like I have been asking them to?" Theo accios the items back into his bag as he speaks, and pushes against his wheels to move around the bed, closer to her. Draco and Ginny don't really have time to argue as the vibrating alarm becomes louder.
Hermione sees Draco's expensive shoes disappearing right before the door opens.
"Oh!" The tray in Healer Wendy's hand goes toppling out of her grip as she sees Hermione is not alone in her room like she is supposed to be.
Theo points his wand, and stops the tray from colliding with the floor just in time. He slowly maneuvers the items back onto the tray, and into the still stretched out hands of Wendy.
"Mr. Nott, thank you, but actually, no, no you are not supposed to be in here. How did you get in here?"
She shuts the door behind her quickly, as she fights a, very inappropriate for the moment, smile that has Hermione's eyes rolling.
"Wheels. I may be missing a finger, but the other nine still work pretty well." Theo gives her a half smile that makes the young healer flush as she moves to place the tray onto the table.
"Yes well, while I was able to get you permission to travel the halls, you cannot be entering patients' rooms that are restricted. How are we doing today Ms. Granger?"
Hermione doesn't miss the tone change the woman has as she switches talking from Theo to her. Although it seems It goes unnoticed by Theo as he doesn't make eye contact with the healer.
Hermione doesn't even grace her with an answer she isn't listening for, and instead, picks up her new cup and starts to take a drink.
"Maybe if I cause enough trouble, you will release me like I have been asking."
Wendy laughs way too hard at him. Theo was funny, but his statement did not warrant the ring inducing squeal the young woman lets out.
"Now why would I want to release my favorite patient?" She throws the old tray into the waste bin, and moves behind Theo's wheelchair. "Let's get you back to your room before anyone sees. Oh and Ms. Granger, Healer Frazier is on his way with a surprise for you."
Hermione nods her head, and gives Theo a little wave before his chair is turned, and they start to leave.
"Wendy, can you make sure her lighting stays like this? I got you the book we were talking about yesterday that labels these types of environment changes. There are many other areas I have seen that St. Mungo's could be improved especially in the..."
The door shuts and cuts off the rest of his sentence.
It isn't even a full second after the knob clicks before Ginny is throwing off the invisibility cloak in anger. Glaring at the closed door.
"What a bitch. Did you see that pathetic excuse for flirting? Flirting with my Teddy!"
Ginny starts to stomp towards the door, but Draco grabs her arm and stops her before she can open it.
"Did you not see Theo being oblivious Red? Calm down. You have nothing to worry about. Give them a minute."
Ginny scoffs and yanks her arm out of his hold. "Yeah, like you have any room to talk. I'm going and stopping this shit before she starts asking him how big his library is. You keep the cloak."
The redhead gives Hermione a salute before cracking the door, and looking both ways before slipping out of the room.
Leaving her and Draco alone again. They had been alone many times over the past couple of days. The lost look that he seemed to wear anytime he wasn't occluding was growing more desperate. The lines around his eyes becoming deeper, his hands twitching anytime she started talking. Like he was afraid of what she would say, while at the same time, looking at her in a way that made her think he was waiting for her to give him the answers.
Contrary to what he said, she picks up her quill and starts writing his ticklish nipples into the real column.
"....course you remember that, and not the fact that you lov..."
"What?"
He huffs, and runs his hand through his hair, as she finishes writing. "Nothing. After the healer is done, do you want to practice occluding or do you need to rest?"
She places the quill back in the pot, and looks over her list. Trying to memorize all the new moments.
"No, as long as the healer doesn't have some..."
"Fuck. He's coming." Draco disappears again, but trips on the corner of the cloak as he moves to turn. He falls forward and doesn't catch himself before he bumps loudly into the wall. Letting out another curse word, and making her laugh at what looks like nothing as Healer Frazier walks into the room.
The man freezes and stares at her.
She tries to hold in her humor, but somehow the action of suppressing it, makes her feel the need to laugh even harder. It is only a matter of seconds before she is giving in and laughing out loud for what looks like no apparent reason whatsoever.
"What is so funny Ms. Granger?" Frazier moves across the room with a large file in one hand as he accios for the chair with his other.
"Nothing, just thought of something funny." The underneath of her one eye is wet from her laughing, and she wipes it off before smiling up at him. "Wendy said you have a surprise for me?"
Frazier pauses at flipping through the pages of parchment, and pushes his glasses up his nose. "Yes I do. I think your consistent progress proves you are ready."
This sounds good. Maybe they would discharge her as well if she could prove to them that it was a time problem rather than a sanity problem. She doesn't need to be here. Of this she is sure. The past few days had proven to her that this wasn't permanent. That with help, she would put the pieces of her mind back together. No matter how much it hurt. Or how long it took.
"I think it is time to address a few things with you that we have learned over the past couple of weeks, Ms. Granger. Some truths about your situation that may help guide you, and us, in possibly restoring your mind."
He turns and waves his wand to open the door slightly.
Hermione looks up, not really understanding what exactly is going on, to see a very familiar face walking into the room.
"Ron..."
He looks tired too. No, worse than tired. More of a full body slump that shows the exhaustion with every breath in and out. It wasn't a lack of sleep that made a person look like this. It was a lack of something else.
But Ron shouldn't be like this. Not after killing Voldemort.
"Hey 'Mione."
The sound of his voice has an effect on her body. It is different than how she expects though. Not what... what it used to be. It doesn't feel like the warmth, or the fear, or the burning. Well, maybe a bit of burning, but closer to agitation? Was that the word for this feeling inside her?
"I, I thought only immediate family could..."
"The Minister of Magic has secured this change in protocol. We thought maybe it would be helpful to hear this information from someone you know, and are close with. We also thought having someone who means something to you, as a part of the process, would help create recognition for you."
Hermione nods her head as her best friend comes to stand closer to her. He also seems to be battling what to do, and how to act around her. She hates that. Watching people treat her as if she was something fragile and unrecognizable.
She shakes her head, and tries to push past the itching, irritating feeling. This was Ron. Ron was safe. She reaches out with her hand to grab his as she smiles. "You did it Ron."
He had. The newspapers were filled with stories, events, and pictures of his heroics. Of how he had defeated the evil wizard when Harry fell. He was always brave, something she had to remind him of quite a few times in the past. Ever since first year. She saw it. His willingness to give all of himself for the people he cared about. Her hand almost touches his, but he moves it out of her reach, staring down at the empty space between them.
"I..." He finally looks up at her and his eyes dart between her own as his lips form a thin line before he opens them again. "You should know, you are mad at me."
For some reason, that makes her smile. Being mad at Ron. Now that was a familiar feeling. Maybe that is why her body is reacting the way it is.
"That sounds about right." She says as she relaxes back into her chair. "Do you deserve it?"
"Yes." He doesn't hesitate to answer. Rubbing his hand through his beard, before glancing back towards the door as a noise echoes down the hall. "I said some of the worst things I have ever said to you. Things I didn't mean to come out the way they did. Worse than 3rd year when I threatened to kill your fur ball. Worse than after the dance. Worse than the nightmare that was 6th year for the two of us."
Her face drops at the seriousness of his tone. Merlin, whatever he had said that she doesn't currently remember, must have been bad if it was worse than the shit he pulled 6th year.
"And you haven't forgiven me yet. I thought you needed to know that before this."
"Before what?" The noise from the hallway becomes louder as she is speaking, and she looks up to see three men with large black cameras pressing into the open doorway. "Ron, wha..."
Her voice is cut off as Ron moves in front of her, and kneels to the ground before pulling her into his chest, and wrapping his arms around her. The agitated feeling grows, and starts turning into something darker as he squeezes her tighter, and the cameras start to flash.
"This is all to help you 'Mione. I promise. I am doing this all to help you." He whispers into the side of her face, not releasing his strong hold on her.
Then why does this all feel wrong?
She doesn't say anything, but squeezes her eyes shut as the blinding flashes continue, and make the pain in her head intensify.
Her arms are crushed in between her body and his, cutting off any possibility for her to fight what is happening.
"Okay, we gave you the shot. Now get out!" Ron pulls away quickly, and gives the photographers only a few moments to back out of the doorway before he accios and slams it shut.
He lets out a long breath and stands up. Pressing his fingers into his eyes, rubbing back and forth.
And Hermione is lost.
Healer Frazier who had been silent for the whole scene, accios over a chair for Ron.
"Ms. Granger, some of the things we are about to tell you will be hard to hear. But we are all in agreement that you are strong enough to start being directed in the recovery of your mind."
"Directed..."
"Yes directed through what you are struggling to recall. We are here to support you through it. And if at any time you need us to stop, or need to take a break, please inform us."
Frazier licks his thumb, and turns the pieces of parchment over until he reaches a certain spot, and tucks the rest of the sheets behind.
What happened to her. They... They thought they had it? She knows they are working with the outsourced mind healer, and that they were sharing information, but something about this doesn't seem right.
The two men stare at her, waiting for some sign to begin. She gulps loudly, grabs her own sheet of information she had been compiling, and holds it protectively against her chest.
"Okay."
Frazier smiles and nods his head at Ron to begin.
"You were taken during the Battle of Hogwarts by Antonin Dolohov due to trying to protect Harry, Ginny, and Neville. You went... missing for over 6 months. Voldemort kept you to hopefully use you to infiltrate The Order by possessing you in a similar way as he did with Professor Quirrell. After 6 months, you were given to another Death Eater, Draco Malfoy."
Her eyes look over out of reflex, to the corner where she knows he is. Ron pauses and follows her eyes. His jaw clenches as he stares into the empty corner, looking from her to the area again.
So she spent a good deal of the time with Draco. That makes all the images he seems to be a part of make more sense to her.
"Hermione..." His hand envelopes hers, and he squeezes it reassuringly. "They... they abused you mentally, physically, and... and sexually."
His words hit her.
Actually make her body jump.
Pull away.
It was all wrong. All of what he is saying is wrong.
No. No. Nononono.
Her head begins to shake back and forth rapidly as she tries to pull her hand out of his. Not wanting anyone or anything to touch her.
Because her body was hers. Her mind was hers. Her... heart was hers. No one controlled those parts of her. Hell, she was in here because she couldn't seem to control any of them herself.
Her files she has read many times made it clear that horrible things happened to her. But to hear his... his name attached to them...
"Draco... Draco didn't, no. He couldn't."
"He did 'Mione. He exploited you and used you to survive the war."
Frazier places some of her file on top of her own sheet on her lap. He points to the test results.
"We are looking at your body's responses and combining them with the knowledge Mr. Weasley, and others from The Order have shared. Voldemort, Antonin Dolohov, and Draco Malfoy all create extreme body responses Ms. Granger. And it appears each of these men used you in horrible ways that have led to the state of your mind."
Her hands are beginning to shake in her lap. She pulls her bottom lip into her mouth as she tries to fight against the water in her eyes trying to escape. All of this feels horrible. Not just wrong. The fact that she had been abused in so many ways was not new information for her. Yes, she was still struggling facing the exact memories and asking questions that dealt with those areas, but she knew it was true. And her body never responded to that knowledge as it is now. As they say his name combined with such cruelty, such evil, such...
"No. Not... Draco. He didn't, no he helps me. He isn't one of my monsters."
Ron sits back in his chair, and tilts his head to the ceiling as he closes his eyes. Healer Frazier begins to write on some other form as he nods his head slightly.
"Your mind shows proof of heavy manipulation Ms. Granger, you know this. We cannot trust what it shows you."
"It isn't my mind!" She sits up, ready to fight. Because this wasn't right. Her body didn't respond in the same way to the three of them. Draco's name, and presence, makes her feel a way no one else ever has. It is intense, and consuming, and possessive in the best way possible. Nothing about him scared her. Not even the parts that maybe should. "It's not the same. I don't feel terrified, I feel on fire. In a good way. In the best way."
She tries to stand up. Wanting to pace. To get away from what they were trying to say was real. But hands are holding her down again. Trying to fucking control her again.
I am getting sick of this...
"Ms. Granger please listen. Yes, your body's responses are valuable, but... with the manipulation and degree of isolation he placed you in, over time, that can affect your perception of him. As we believe was his wanted outcome."
She is pushing against the hands now. Wishing she had her magic and her wand to fight with. Because if what they are saying is true...
Then I am crazy...
Then I belong here.
There is nothing about myself I can trust.
Her eyes travel to the corner again. Knowing he is there. Was he here to make sure she still had false trust in him? Was he manipulating her even now?
The ringing starts to take over her mind again. Making the pain unbearable as she screams against the hands all over her.
"No! No! It isn't true. It can't be true. Tell me it isn't true Draco, please, please!"
She feels magic against her wrists, making them impossible to move from the arms of the chair.
"Don't restrain her!" Draco's anger filled voice fills the room, and she opens her eyes to see him throwing off the invisibility cloak with his wand raised in her direction.
If he is her enemy, one of her monsters, shouldn't that make fear course through her body? Shouldn't the sight of him send her nerves and blood into a panic state like hearing the names of the other two men do?
"I told you he was sneaking in here! Aurors!!"
The world begins to get fuzzy, and seems to start moving in slow motion.
As the door flies open. As magic lights up the room. As so many people, and noise, and brightness fill every space inside her until it becomes unbearable. Too much to process.
As Draco is bound. Falling to the floor. Screaming in frustration and rage that makes her teeth grind together.
She is yelling things too. Things that don't really make any sense to her. Doing anything to stop this. Stop all this wrong from continuing to happen in front of her.
Because they are taking him. Arresting him. Because of her.
"Granger listen to me. Trust yourself! Trust that brilliant mind and heart of yours! It was real! All of it is real! I love you! I lo..."
His voice is cut off.
And then a door is shutting.
Taking him away from her.
Again.
Again.
Again.
This has happened before... My other monsters took him away from me before...
Tears are wetting her entire face as she feels hands cradle her cheeks.
"Ron please. This is wrong. Believe me, I know deep down that something is wrong about all of this!"
His thumbs rub up and down her skin as he nods his head, and wipes off his own tears on his shoulder.
"I know Hermione. There is so much wrong about all of this. But we are going to work it out okay? All this brokenness, I... we are going to put it all back together. I promise. No matter how long it takes."
The noises leaving her do not sound human. The skin under his touch is trembling.
A potion is pushed into her mouth, and the cold liquid travels down her throat before she can process to fight it.
And the world starts getting quieter.
She looks up into Ron's blue eyes. "You are doing the same thing they did. The same... exact... thing... as... the... monsters..."
....................
The room is dark now. It must be night. It is also empty. It has been empty for a while. Just her, alone with her mind. For the first time she can remember, she is actually truly alone.
Because they took him.
They took everything.
She doesn't know what to do now. Without him. Without her magic. Without her wand. Being held captive by people trying to force something into her that feels wrong on every single level.
It isn't true.
It can't be.
She has been up. Staring at the ceiling for who knows how long. Trying to figure out a way to gain some control over this situation. To take the power out of everyone else's hands and place it back into her own.
It was her life after all.
Her mind.
Her body.
Her heart.
And what they tell her doesn't make any sense when she puts all the pieces she has collected and felt together.
The pieces of Theo.
The pieces of Ginny.
The pieces of the other snakes.
The pieces of... Draco.
They don't know the whole story, but they are using what they do have to create something.
For some reason.
Her door opens, and she hears him before she sees him. Hears the wheels of his chair meeting the surface of the floor.
"They took him."
She nods her head as he wheels next to the chair she is still strapped to. Since every time they tried to let her arms go free, she started attacking anyone and everyone. Trying to escape. He waves his wand, and the pressure against her bruised wrists disappears.
Theo breathes out heavily. "Do you believe me when I say they set him up?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because... I just know."
Neither of them say anything for a while.
"Well, are you ready to fight evil witch? Hopefully for the last fucking time?"
She looks up and meets his eyes. "Absolutely."
His half smile takes over his face, and he pulls out a vial. One that looks different than the others. She takes it, and watches as he sits up and coughs into his hand to clear his throat dramatically like he is about to give the performance of his life.
"Well then, let me tell you the story about Hermione Jean Granger, The Gryffindor Princess, The Golden Girl, The Brightest Witch of Our Age, my favorite member of the Golden Trio." He bops her on the nose with his finger, as she rests her head onto his shoulder. "And how she saved the world, and fell in love with a prick who isn't a brunette."