Drabble 01: She was in a mental hospital, and he just wanted to visit her.
Set: My take on what happened after the war in book seven.
Song used: Who are you, really? Mikky Ekko
Rating: T
Disclaimer: It's painfully obvious that I don't own this.

Who are you, really?

White walls, black ceiling. There was a buzzing in her ear. There's a hole in her shirt. The entirely too white shirt. She could see what it would look like stained with blood, stained with the blood she caused to be shed.

I've got nothing left to prove.

"Mrs. Granger,"Crackling voice sounded throughout the room. She didn't look up. She knew it was her nurse,"You have a visitor."

Visitor? No one came to see her. Not since the end of the war. She was broken. Everywhere she went she saw death.

"Granger?" That voice. She knew who that was. He had been a secret friend of hers. When Harry and Ron found out, they had been so mad. Never all at once had she heard that much yelling, except for during the war. But the war was always an exception.

We are the fire. We see how they run.

"Is that you?" Of course it was her. He couldn't tell who she was because of her dark, dark circles under her eyes. She was so-so skinny. Were they feeding her here? Were Harry and Ron right to leave her here?
Of course they weren't. Couldn't they see it was killing her?

"Hermione, I-" That's when the screaming started. She was only trying to block out the screams from the dead. They were all staring at her, taunting. If she was such a smart witch, why couldn't she save any of them?

"You should leave,"A nurse advised him while others strapped the insane (because there were no other words for her condition) witch down to the table. The screaming stopped after the syringe was pushed underneath her so pale skin. Is that what no sun did to skin? It sickened him to his very core.

Cause I've got nothing left to loose.

"I'm sorry." Those were the last words he ever said to her, or anyone ever said to her really. Why couldn't she have moved on? They won the war. But her guilt ran so deep. Her dreams were the faces of the dead. Tonks, Lupin, Fred, Snape.. Why couldn't she have stopped it?

The hospital found her dead the next morning. She had used a stolen safety pin to cut words into her skin. No, I'm sorry.

When Draco found out, he wept more than he had for the deaths of the war.

Who are you?

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