She should've been a better witch. If she had been, all of those people would not have died. Every time she closed her eyes, she could see the innocent bodies lying on the floor or hear their shrill cries, crying for help. She should've tried harder, more spells anything. She could not bear to think that they died because of her. Lupin, Tonks, Fred, Colin Creevy. She could've saved them all. A baby was being raised without a mother or father, all because she was a terrible witch.
Useless.
That's how she felt. Hermione Granger, 'the best witch of her time', felt completely and utterly useless. That is why she was currently situated in room 207 of St Mungo's Hospital. Room 207 was one of the rooms in the mental health ward. She hated the room. Not surprisingly, she hadn't gotten out of that bed for at least 2 days. She could hear the healers whispering about her in the corner of the room. She could hear the screams of the lady in the bed next to hers. She could also hear the screams of the dying and injured people, lying on the floor, splattered blood everywhere. It was as if the whole war was playing out in front of her. Every minute of the day. She would willingly pay anything to get it to stop. That is why she admitted herself into the hospital. No one came to visit her, to make sure that she was doing okay. Because, in truth, they didn't want to see her in the state she was in. Harry and Ron had come to see her. Once. And it wasn't even a proper visit. They were hesitant and didn't come as far as the door. It was like closure. Just to tell her that they didn't want any part of her anymore. Of course they didn't say that to her, but she could tell that that was what they wanted. Because she was crazy. That hurt her deeply.
Hermione wasn't the only one that was affected by the war. Once, when she was looking out of the window next to her bed, she saw Draco Malfoy. Walking around the field, a healer watching him attentively from a distance. She heard that he wasn't put in front of a jury because he was forced into the whole ordeal. His father however, had been put into Azkaban for life. Even if he did have a limited time, no doubt he would've died before then. Every inch of him sucked out by the dementors. Not that he didn't deserve it though.
She hated being treated like a baby. She hated having to be waited on hand a foot. She used to be so independent, now she couldn't even eat a meal by herself. She never felt like eating anyway. Her appearance had changed so much since Hogwarts. She was a great deal skinnier, her hair hadn't been cared for and her skin was so dry, it could've been compared to a snakes'. Her lips were chapped, her fingers were so frail and her eyes had become glassy and emotionless. You would not be able to recognize her at all if you hadn't seen her in a while.
Nevertheless, this was how she was going to live for the rest of her life. However short it may be. She was traumatized. Nothing could change that. She couldn't unsee the things that she had seen. No matter how much she wanted to. She was at a dead-end and that was how it was going to be.
Hope you enjoyed this. It's just a one shot but reviews are very much appreciated! :)