AUTHOR'S NOTES:
With the imminent release of 'Deathly Hallows' less than two weeks away, I thought that I should publish this story, which I wrote before I started high school, so whatever happens in the 7th installment, I can smile and say, "Well I had no idea!" and keep writing it without reservations. It's been tweaked. Hope you enjoy!
PS-- REVIEWS ARE MY LIFE SOURCE. THEY'RE GREATLY APPRECIATED.
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters, places, or objects mentioned in the following fanfic. All characters, places, etc., are property of J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., and their respective copyrights.
Chapter 1
Harry Potter kneeled down to smell the fragrant pink roses lining the path in his garden. A butterfly fluttered around his head and off to another flowerbed. Harry stared blankly at the butterfly, whose bright wings clashed with a bed of white daisies, as it searched for the right flower to rest on. Perhaps his guest would find the daisies just as beautiful as the butterfly did. He looked down at his watch. A quarter to one. She'd be here in about 15 minutes.
Smiling, he crossed the garden path to the bed of white daisies and stooped, frightening the poor butterfly away. Harry drew his wand from his pocket and tapped the stems of ten different daisies. The ten flowers shuddered a bit, then popped out of the ground and landed by Harry's feet. Harry gathered them just as he heard someone approaching. The footsteps belonged to that of Ron Weasley, Harry's best friend.
"Is she here yet?" Harry asked. "If she is, then she's early. That's certainly like her."
Ron grinned, but shook his head. "No, not yet. Madam Grake told me to remind you that every thing is ready upstairs. What are you doing?"
"Excellent. I picked some daisies for the room. It might make her feel more at home."
Ron nodded his agreement. He checked his own watch and cleared his throat. "We've about 10 minutes. You reckon we could down a couple of firewhiskeys before she gets here?"
"Right, Weasley," said Harry sarcastically, rolling his eyes, "that's exactly what we need. Let's go get plastered and when Hermione gets here, she can join us. We'll have a grand old party." Harry started walking back to the house, signaling Ron to join him.
Ron laughed and gave Harry a friendly slap on the back. "That's what I like to hear. tell you what. You go put those flowers in her room, and I'll go put the kettle on instead."
Harry nodded. "Okay, then. Oh, use the Earl Grey. She'll like that."
The two friends entered through the large oak doors to Potter Manor. Ron took his coat off and slumped it over a table in the foyer, then scurried off to make tea. Harry instead jogged up the grand staircase to the second floor and down one of the many corridors to the guest room he'd set up especially for Hermione. In the room was a bed, some lamps, and a small desk and chair. The room was very plain, rather reminiscent of a cheap hotel room. There was a solitary window, overlooking the grounds of the manor.
Harry laid the daisies on the bed and grabbed an empty pencil tin from the desk. Reaching for his wand once again, Harry transfigured the tin into a lovely crystal vase. Pleased with the product, he arranged the flowers and tenderly placed the bundle into the creation. Harry smiled. He hoped Hermione would like them.
Before Harry could make it to the washroom to get a pitcher of water for the flowers, one of the maids came running to him.
"She's arrived, Master Harry! The Healer just brought her through the gates!"
Harry beamed. "Thank you, Vesta!" he called back to as he ran down the flight of stairs to landing in the hall, nearly tripping over his own feet. Ron, who had dribbled his tea all over his shirt from excitement, giddily opened the oak doors when the plump woman wearing the St. Mungo's uniform led a younger woman up the porch stairs. Harry's smiled faded momentarily as he took a look at the two women. The Healer was a very jolly woman, reminding Harry of the Fat Lady that lived in the portrait leading to Gryffindor Tower. The other, Harry could barely recognize.
The other woman was small of frame, very thin and very pale. Her chestnut eyes were glossy and sunken in, heavy with dark circles underneath indicating an immense lack of sleep. This woman's head was bowed, and revealed a messy bush of brown hair that looked like someone had attempted to make it sensible and then gave up.
It was Hermione, Harry registered, just not the Hermione he once knew.
Harry met them at the door, holding out his hand for the younger lady. The plump witch pushed his hand away. "No, no, Mr. Potter. She's not ready for that yet."
"Sorry..." Harry said sheepishly, withdrawing his hand the rest of the way. Ron ambled to Harry's side and furrowed his brows.
"What do you suppose she meant by that?" Ron asked.
Harry shook his head. "I dunno. Umm...hey, could you go pour some tea for her, mate? I need to go deal with all this procedure stuff."
Ron nodded and took the tray to the other room. The Healer witch led Hermione into the foyer, setting her down in an overstuffed chair. A very frightened Hermione looked up at the witch and whimpered, grasping her chubby arm for dear life. "Now, listen to me, Miss Granger, I'm going to need you to sit very still while I talk to Mr. Potter," she said in the tone that one would take with a three-year-old. "So if you'll just let go now...no, let go, Miss Granger...that's it."
Harry's heart broke as he watched the scene. He knew that Hermione's condition was bad, but he never envisioned her to be in this state. The witch patted Hermione's head and hobbled over to Harry. She smiled solemnly and opened her mouth, speaking just above a whisper.
"Alright. We have to get make some things clear to you, Mr. Potter. You know she's not right. She can't do any hard work right away. If she doesn't want to, don't make her. She sometimes talks to herself, so just let her. Do you remember I told you about the nightmares?"
Harry nodded.
"Good. They have started to get better, but she still has them, so you want to watch her. I've come to put the monitoring charms on her room so you'll know when she nee--MISS GRANGER DON'T DO THAT!"
When Harry looked over to see what was wrong, the Healer was waddling over to Hermione. She'd found her way out of her chair and was currently running her finger along the tip of a spearhead belonging to one of the suits of armor on display in the room. Hermione's eyes widened with fascination, and reached up to grasp the blade full on.
Deciding the witch would not get there fast enough, Harry quickly bolted to her side, the Healer following him close behind. Harry grabbed Hermione's arms, pinning them to her sides. She obviously didn't like this new position, for she wailed at the top of her lungs, kicking and screaming. Hermione flailed about and Harry quickly released her, unsure of what to do. The Healer caught up and pulled out her wand. Hermione sank to the floor, drawing her knees to her chest.
"You see, Mr. Potter, she's just like a child at times. She'll have her good days, just you wait." She straightened her hair and smoothed her uniform. "As I was saying, I've come to put the monitoring charms on her room. Safety precaution, of course. Afterwards, I should take my leave, but if you have any problems, I hope you won't hesitate to owl us?" Harry nodded, keeping his eyes locked on his friend. "Good. If you'll excuse me..." She headed up the grand staircase towards the room Harry prepared for his guest.
Harry sighed and ran his fingers through his uncontrollable mane of hair. Hermione had relaxed a bit by now, but continued to hold her legs to her, her body racking with sobs. Harry wanted desperately to take Hermione in his arms and hand her a tissue like he did at school. He was glad Ron wasn't here to see her like this. Between the two of them, one was bound to lose it and set her off again.
When the Healer had returned, she pulled Harry aside once more. "I've placed the charms, Mr. Potter. I'll be going now. Our staff will be sending you a checklist in the post. Good day, Mr. Potter," she bent down to Hermione, "And you'll be a good girl for him, won't you? You mind all of Mr. Potter's nice things and remember that they're not yours. You can't just chuck them about as you wish."
She stood and began to walk away, then turned back to Harry. "If I were you, sir, I'd hide all my valuables. Ta ta!"
Harry furrowed his brows and cocked his head, wondering why he'd need to put away half of his possessions. Hermione made a sound that sounded like a hiss at her retreating figure and stood as well. She shuffled weakly over to Harry and he gently touched her shoulder affectionately. She jumped and whimpered, easing away from him.
"Hermione?"
She whimpered again, folding her arms tightly, as if she were about to enfold herself in a cocoon.
"Hermione? Let me show you to your room, love."
She looked at him, her eyes examining his face. Hermione took a few baby steps toward him. Harry got the impression that she was starting to realize he wasn't going to hurt her.
Hermione opened her mouth. "…I-I won't go back?"
Harry raised an eyebrow, shaking his head. "No, 'Mione. You're not going back, you won't have to. Not now that I have you."
Hermione stood silent for a minute, then tentatively took Harry's hand and followed him up the stairs. Hermione made a sound that sounded like a hiss at her retreating figure and stood as well. The first few steps weren't so bad, but before they reached the landing Hermione decided, for reasons unknown to Harry, she would have no more of this. In his desperation to get her settled in normally, Harry had to bribe her with Chocolate Frogs, and when she still wasn't moved, a set of Gobstones and some Fizzing Whizbees.
As they approached the second floor, Harry deemed now an appropriate time to break the ice. "So, er...umm...how have you been? I haven't seen you in months!"
Hermione remained silent. "Right...well, it's wonderful to see you again, too, 'Mione." Harry muttered. He sighed heavily, deciding that maybe now wasn't such a good time. Hermione stuck her hands in the pockets of her jacket and stared at the floor.
Harry hoped that Hermione would quickly adjust to her new surroundings. She had been in St. Mungo's for the past four years for spell damage. Harry had long since tried to push the memory of that day four years ago, where the darkest and most evil of sorcerers, Lord Voldemort, attempted to take every last thing that Harry treasured.
Late in their 7th year, Death Eaters traveling incognito around Hogsmeade kidnapped Hermione, their plan to attack and kill Ron having failed. Harry searched for weeks, only the dream visions and searing pain from his scar to aid him. Once she was found, the pain and suffering that she endured had driven her insane and close to death. Her condition was not that much different from Frank and Alice Longbottom's, only that she was tortured by Voldemort himself. The rage from this situation alone was enough motivation for Harry to put an end to Lord Voldemort's reign, once and for all.
After a long and strenuous battle, Voldemort was dead. Finally gone from the wizarding world forever, cleverly slain by his own wand. Delirious and wounded himself, Harry had rushed Hermione to the hospital wing, were she was immediately taken to St. Mungo's. A few days later, Harry and Ron received an owl saying that Hermione would make a full physical recovery, but her mind would never be the same.
Through the devastation and shock, Harry and Ron would go visit her every now and then for the next four years, becoming more and more forlorn every time. The boys couldn't bear to sit in a stuffy hospital, staring silently at the young woman who barely noticed that they were there. At the end of every visit, they told Hermione they loved her and they'd be back, and as a joke they'd demand that she greet them on a unicycle balancing a fishbowl on her head next time they came. And every time, Hermione would stare out the window, not even acknowledging their departure.
Until one day, out of the blue, Harry got an owl from the hospital informing him that they'd like to try a little experiment with Hermione. Within the last 6 months of her confinement, her mind had opened and progressed magnificently, regaining most of her sanity to rejoin society. Seeing Harry as the most suitable candidate to take her in (as Rom had just moved out of the Burrow and could barely support himself), they asked him for his consent. He, of course, accepted without a second thought.
"Here we are 'Mione. Can you remember where this room is?" Harry asked, opening the door for her. Hermione ignored him, walking past and into her room. Harry blinked and followed her inside. She shuffled over to the window, running her finger along the wooden paneling. She stared for several minutes and gasped at a few things, although she was barely audible. Harry watched in silence, secretly hoping that he'd manage a few more sentences out of her by the end of the day.
After she grew tired of the window and it's view, she wandered around the room, examining every object she could pick up. Harry entered the room silently, watching intently. He thought that maybe if he watched her habits, he could find a way to break her of her silence.
Hermione was now rummaging through the drawer on the bedside table, muttering, "She took them...why'd she take them?"
Harry watched in confusion, all until Hermione started shrieking, "Where are they?! I want to know where you took them!"
Harry rushed to her side, sitting her down on the bed. "What are you talking about? Who took what?" He asked in a soothing voice, gently rubbing her shoulder.
"I needed those! She wanted them and she took them!"
Harry tentatively wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her to him. "What did they take 'Mione?"
Hermione was now shaking with sobs. Harry had dealt with a weeping Hermione before, but he always had a few comforting words for her when needed. But this time was different. He felt almost as helpless as she did at the moment, her tears soaking through his jumper, with no help to offer. Harry had no idea what the 'stolen' objects were, and he thought of how he was going to pacify the situation if this happened again. He sighed, continuing to rub her back, wondering if maybe this was still a good idea after all.