Hermione almost sprinted out of double Potions. Too much too much she thought. She was still off balance from him opening up to her. He trusted her... She was so busy thinking, she didn't watch where she was going.
"Oi!" Someone shouted, right near her ear. Hermione turned, her anger flaring, to face -
Ron.
Ron's eyes widened then he scowled at her. Hermione merely wrinkled her nose as if she smelt something bad. That made the tips of Ron's ears go red.
"What?"
Hermione tossed her head. She had no time for this. "Oh, nothing." she said, sidestepping past him, only to have her arm caught in Ron's grip. She wrenched her sleeve from his grasp. "What do you want?" she said frostily. Ron narrowed his eyes.
"Why're you sticking your nose up at me? Am I not good enough for you?"
Hermione stuck up her chin. "Yes." she said blandly. "Now, if you'll excuse me - "
"No I won't excuse you!" Ron shouted. "You whore yourself out to Malfoy and you suddenly think you're the fucking Queen of England!"
Hermione took a step back. "Um Ron? I actually don't. And you shouldn't swear, there are first years here."
Ron leant down into her face. "You're just a stupid bitch."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "A stupid bitch that beats you in every single exam and is tracked to become Minister of Magic. As opposed to a really clever little weasel-boy, who can't even make his own dinner because he relies on his mummy too much."
Ron flushed angrily. "Mudblood!" he yelled. There was a sudden hush in the hall. Hermione felt the air rush out of her lungs. Then something came shooting past Hermione and hit Ron full in the chest.
"Levicorpus!" Draco shouted. Ron swung up into the air as if some giant had a hold of his ankle. He passed red and went purple with rage, but his wand had skittered across the floor far away from him and besides, Ron had never been very good at wandwork.
Draco slowly sauntered up to where Ron was dangling. He snorted disgustedly, then turned to Hermione. "Want to say anything?" he asked cooly. Hermione nodded slowly. She walked up to the redhead and looked him dead in the eye.
"You are nothing. Nothing to me." she said, enunciating every syllable very carefully. "I remember a time where the roles in this situation were reversed," she said gesturing to Draco and Ron. "But at least now one has improved," she went on, looking at Draco. Then she turned back to Ron, a sneer on her face. "And the other is nothing but a dirty, low-down, cheating bastard."
And with that, she walked away. She listened to the other students murmur, listened as they muttered her name again and again. Suddenly there was a thump, then a collective gasp. She swung around, wondering what was happening now. Then she gasped too. Harry and Draco stood, shoulder to shoulder, over Ron's sprawled body on the floor. Then, as one, they spat on his face. Harry looked at Draco. Draco looked at Harry. Identical smirks, small but still there, spread on to their faces. Harry looked back down at Ron. "Never, ever speak to Hermione in that way again. I've had enough of seeing her get pushed around by you. Enough. Is. Enough." he said, his voice filled with scorn and rage. The he turned, his green eyes flashing. They searched the crown until they found Hermione and only then did Harry relax.
"Later, Malfoy." he said, thoughtfully. Draco didn't speak, but he nodded his head, looking slightly shocked at his own acknowledgement of Harry. On the floor, Ron began to arise. Without looking behind him, Harry sent a silent curse at the ginger boy, who collapsed back onto the floor. During his life, Hermione thought sadly, Harry had become very good at sensing when someone was trying to attack him. She finally found her voice again.
"Let's go, Harry. See you, Malfoy."
Harry walked away with her and didn't look back once.
*****
They rounded a corner and Hermione noticed that Harry was shaking.
"Harry? Are you okay?" she said, worry rising. Harry just shook his head. His face was white and his breathing erratic and too light. Quickly, Hermione pulled him into an empty classroom. She shoved down her panic and controlled her voice.
"Harry, I want you to breathe in for four, hold it for four and breathe out for four." she said calmly. Inside she was panicking like crazy, but Harry couldn't know that. He nodded his head once, very fast. She could hear him controlling each breath. In, hold, out. In, hold, out. When she had made sure that he seemed okay again, she tentatively began to speak.
"Harry, what was that?" she said. Again, her voice sounded way calmer than she actually felt. Harry took a while before answering. When he did answer, his voice was almost too quiet to hear.
"It started happening just after the War." he said, not looking at her. "I began... to lose control. I don't... I don't know, Hermione." he said, turning to her. In the pale sunlight filtering in at the window, he looked desperate and lonely and confused. "I don't know what's happening." he finished.
Hermione reached out and hugged her friend. "Have you... told Ginny?" she asked quietly. Harry bowed his head.
"No. Not yet. I don't know how. I don't even know what's happening."
Hermione bit her lip.. She guessed now was the time. "Harry," she said gently. "I might know. But... you may not want to know."
Harry looked at her, his eyes big and sad. "Yes, I do."
He sounded very certain, but still... "Are you sure?"
Harry looked at her. "Yes."
"Harry... I think you have PTSD. Almost definitely. And it's getting worse. You're starting to suffer frequent anxiety attack. You need to talk to Madame Pomfrey."
Harry sucked in a breath. "Oh."
The sound of his voice almost brought Hermione to tears. Lost and bewildered. And she hadn't even finished. "And..."
Harry laughed, sounding bitter and sad. "Of course. There's more. Nothing ever stops, does it?"
Hermione waited. Harry sighed. "Tell me." His voice was flat, unresponsive.
"I think you might be suffering from depersonalisation. Although I'm less sure about that one."
Harry nodded. His expression flickered so fast between emotions, she could barely decipher each one before it vanished. Confusion. Frustration. Anger. Sadness. She couldn't bare it. They had been friends for so long, she hated to see his pain.
"Harry, are you -"
"What's depersonalisation?" he said, cutting the rest of her question in half. Hermione took a breath.
"It's where you feel like you are losing your sense of self. You feel scared most of the time. You -"
"Stop!" Harry shouted. Hermione took a step back, surprised. "Just stop." Harry whispered. Hermione felt like her heart was breaking for her friend.
"You need to see Madame Pomfrey." she said, softly but firmly. Harry looked at her for a long time. Then he looked at the floor.
"Fine."
*****
Harry's POV
Her words were the final pushing point. The weight that finally sank the boat. The first blow in a fight that he couldn't stop, he had to
stop.
That's what he had shouted at her. He could hear the echo in his head. It was like a living, breathing thing.
Stop.
Hermione had left him with Madame Pomfrey, who had confirmed all her words. He could see the kindly yet concerned look in her eye. She looked wary. Hesitant. As if he was a caged animal and she had to calm him down to stop him from running away.
Stop.
His thoughts rattled around in his head. Too much. He couldn't stay still he couldn't breathe help someone please no stop
He looked up to see Madame Pomfrey walking over. She could help please let her help oh God he was dying
"Harry. Stop right now."
He wheezed, the breath coming in quick puffs.
Madame Pomfrey. Looked into his eyes. "Calm down. Now."
He fought to keep his breathing even. Slowly, the breaths lengthened and he looked up at her. He didn't know what she saw in his eyes, but even she looked slightly scared for a split second.
"Harry, we will need to talk about... medication."
Harry nodded slowly. His heart felt wrong. Too heavy. Too weak.
"I'm going to see how you do with some Efvervential Draught, which has helped people with your condition before."
Harry nodded again. The words he wanted to say prickled in his mouth like pieces of broken glass.
"I want you to take it every day, okay."
Harry nodded for the third time.
"Harry, I need a verbal response, please."
"O-okay." he said. It sounded like his voice was made of blades and sand. Scratchy, yet sharp and unforgiving.
"I also want you to stay here tonight." Madame Pomfrey said. Her voice sounded so careful
Harry just looked at her. She pursed her lips, then went back to her office. He could see her scribbling out a letter. Harry lay back on the bed, closed his eyes and tried desperately to think of nothing at all.
A/N: Okay, so this was a slightly shorter chapter, but we're both kinda busy with exam revision, so...
Lots of love,
Fox and Rabbit xx