Hello, everybody. I haven't written fanfiction in about five years. Posting this is stressing me out, but makes me feel really good. This is my first Harry Potter fanfiction, which is bizarre because that was my first fandom I read.

A lot of Hermione's thoughts and feelings have been inspired by and based after my own experiences. Depression is a terrible illness that can affect anybody. I hope to validate the feelings of those who suffer from depression and also educate those who don't.

Yes, this will eventually be Dramione, but Hermione's world needs to be established first. Other ships include Ginny/Harry, past Ron/Hermione, and past Astoria/Draco.

Burn Your Bridges

Chapter 1

I wish I knew how to keep friends my whole life. It would be a lot simpler. Or better yet, why can't we have a beacon over people's heads—this will be your lifelong best friend, your brother; this one is pretty nice for a while but will dump you as soon as she gets a boyfriend; this one is just going to use you; this one you will think is your friend, but in reality will make you hate your very existence until you leave her; this one you're eventually going to date but a nasty breakup will destroy your old friendship.

Yeah, that would make life a lot simpler.

Instead, I wind up creating more problems for myself because I don't know when to close my mouth and walk away and when to shake a person's outstretched hand.

And this causes me to sit alone in my flat eating ice cream out of the carton while watching reality television in the middle of the afternoon, still in my hole-riddled pajamas I could never bother to get rid of.

All the curtains are drawn shut so the only way I know the time is by the digital clock on my DVD player below my TV blinking 2:27 pm. I should be at work, but I just don't feel like it. I'm surprised I made it out of bed today, even. It's a new development.

My office has sent numerous owls, each more urgent than the last. I actually answered yesterday's—I'm sorry, I'm currently incredibly ill and unable to make it to work. I should be back as quickly as I can.

They know me; they know I love to work and Magical Law is my passion. But right now, it's hard to find passion for anything, let alone the motivation to cook decent food. I thought of making a microwave pastry earlier but that took more effort than the ice cream with less of a numbing result. Numb is nice. It matches my mind.

My intercom buzzes, signaling somebody is at the apartment complex entrance for me. I don't want to get it. I don't want to stand up.

It buzzes again.

I sit in my comfy chair in front of the TV and wait the person out. They'll go away eventually. Everybody does.

My cell phone rings on the coffee table. I'm surprised it has any battery left since I keep forgetting about it. I lean forward just enough to make out the picture on the screen. Nope.

Again, the buzzer. And again, the phone. Go away, I don't want to talk to anybody right now.

A few minutes pass and suddenly there's a knock on my door. It shocks me and sends me into a mild panic. Logically, I know that it would eventually happen—somebody recognized him let him in at the front entrance.

"Hermione!" the all-too-familiar voice calls through the door. "I know you're in there! Please let me in," he ends up pleading.

I don't answer.

A whispered "Alohamora" comes from the other side and I hear the clicks of my locks undoing themselves. I should have put a spell on them to stop that, but I couldn't be bothered. After all, if somebody broke in, let them. I don't have anything of value. I'm nothing of value even.

"Hermione," he breathes out from behind me, relief flooding his voice. A few lights are turned on, blinding me momentarily. "Oh, Hermione."

Warm arms wrap around me from the side, but I can't stop staring at the screen in front of me. I can't feel my fingers anymore from holding the damn ice cream and I honestly couldn't care less. But then he pulls the carton and spoon from my hands so he can kneel down properly in front of me, blocking the TV.

"Hermione," he repeats. "Look at me."

I finally look in his eyes, which are watering and on the verge of tears. Mine are as blank as possible. I'm empty and I don't feel anything—don't want to feel anything. Or maybe I do but I'm too gone to care anymore.

He touches my face and pushes back some of my hair, which I haven't brushed in well over a week and it shows. I bet if I tried to now, even the most powerful potion wouldn't be able to tame it.

"Let's get you dressed, okay? A shower should make you feel better." He smiles gently as he stands, but I just shake my head no in response. Don't make me move. "Come on," he pleads, pulling at my hands to help me up. "Ginny always makes me shower when everything starts to overwhelm me again. Being clean helps, Hermione, I promise."

I wouldn't put it past Ginny Weasley be able to force the great Harry Potter into the shower at wand-point just so he would stop with his angst. He always did have a flair for the dramatics.

I still won't move. What's the point? Showering might help him, but I'm not dirty. Not on the outside, just…inside my head.

Harry sighs and forces my legs down from my chest so he can grab around my waist. He heaves me over his shoulder and I stray thought in my head wonders why he wouldn't just use magic, like he did on the door, but this is Harry and he doesn't think before action.

He carries me to my bedroom and drops me on the bed. I stay sitting up, but otherwise don't move as he walks over to my closet and pulls out a random shirt and skirt. He then thinks a moment and puts the skirt back before fishing jeans out of one of my dresser drawers. How does he know where all my stuff is? Oh, right, he helped me move and knows how particular I am with my clothes. So he also knows where to grab a bra, a pair of underwear—surprisingly the comfy granny ones—and socks.

He lays the clothes next to me on the bed. "Do I have your approval?" he asks. "I have a feeling you wouldn't want a skirt if you haven't, um…shaved in a while." I like skirts more than pants, he knows. Ginny has trained him well; I give her that. No, I haven't shaved my legs in over a month. There hasn't been a need. I sway slightly in my perch on the edge of the bed, the best answer I can give him.

His shoulders drop, but he doesn't press the issue. He helps me up again, and this time I stand with his efforts. The carpet against my bare feet feels nice. I want to lie down on it. I start to collapse, since that seems like such a good, effortless idea. Showering takes time and effort and energy, none of which I have.

"No, no, no you don't," Harry says as he catches me and pulls me back up. He all but carries me to the ensuite and plops me down on the sink counter. "Do I need to undress you and help you shower, too? I will if you make me."

I shake my head again. No, despite how much I don't want to put in the effort to shower and just honestly don't feel like it, it would be embarrassing to have my best friend help me shower because I'm that helpless.

"Okay. I'll wait right outside, alright? Come out when you're done, but take your time. Oh! And this is from Ginny," he adds while fishing around in his cloak pockets. He pulls out a small metal tin. "It's some kind of calming body wash or something, she said. She used it during her, um…bout with post-partem."

Ginny had post-partem depression? I didn't know that. She never…Why did she never tell me? I guess I really wasn't that close to her, was I? I'm that horrible of a friend. That makes sense.

Harry ducked to look at my eyes again. "Just…just so you know, she didn't even tell me until she was recovering."

Why does Harry always know what to say?

He leaves and I actually strip myself for the first time in days. I refuse to look in the mirror because I know I won't like what I see. As soon as I step under the spray of the shower, my body tenses before slowly succumbing to the heat and the massage of the water against my skin. I didn't realize that it would be this relaxing to shower—I never do. Usually, I have a system and a routine that forces me to methodically wash my body and hair, brush my hair so many times after I condition, and only use so much time so I can continue with my morning routine.

Instead, I stand under the water for minutes on end, just letting my body feel and my mind go blank in a soothing way that I haven't experienced in too long. I can actually feel the dirt and sweat washing off with the soap and shampoo, though I can't get the conditioner to do shit for my hair. What am I going to do? I can't detangle it and I have no idea where my wand is or if there's a spell powerful enough to—who am I kidding? Who cares about my hair?

Maybe it would be best to just get rid of it.

My eyes glance towards my razor, but I don't want to shave my head myself if I have no idea how. Plus, that's just so much effort. There's too much of it to bother. I'll shear it off once Harry leaves.

Finally, I grab the tin from Ginny. Inside, a lime-green paste sits partially used. I shrug and dip my fingers inside. It has a pleasant aroma—mint, lavender, and…is that cinnamon? It reminds me of the Burrow and a smile ghosts over my lips at the memories. When I rub it on my body, my skin tingles until my lips part.

A little bit goes a long way and soon I've basically covered myself in the paste. Something in my head feels like it's firing, rusty cogs moving in a not-so-unpleasant way. My vision seems to grow lighter, if that's even possible, and I stare into nothingness while memories of the Burrow flood me.

I can remember dinners surrounded by the Weasley family and Harry, Remus and Tonks, even other order members. I remember the inside of Hagrid's hut, the fire burning and large mugs of homemade hot chocolate on the table where the four of us sit, Fang drooling in Harry's lap. My dad reading bedtime stories to me when I'm little, before I even knew magic was as real as the stories led me to believe.

At the thought of my dad, I collapse onto the shower floor, wrapping my arms around myself. My skin is no longer tingling, but my eyes are. Tears slip down freely with my sobs, melting into the water from above as if they didn't exist at all.

After a while, I've no idea how long, my body feels empty. I have no more tears left, all of them released and escaped down the drain. Once I muster the energy to stand, I stumble slightly, but catch myself on the wall.

I should get out.

I can't even remember what I was crying about.

I dry off and wrap the towel around myself, another to hide my hair. I knock lightly on the door and open it a smidge. "Harry," I call softly. "Can you hand me my clothes?"

"Oh, yeah, sure!" he replies and rushes to the door to slip the clothes through the crack I leave for them.

I go through the motions of dressing and brushing my teeth and even taking one of my supplement pills I forgot to take for…well, judging by how many are left in the bottle, at least two weeks. That certainly wasn't helping me in any way.

Finally, I step out of the steaming bathroom, ready to face Harry. He quickly stands and strides towards me, a gentle smile beneath his worried eyes. "How do you feel? Better?" he asks.

I nod, surprised. Yes, I do feel better, but I don't know if it was the shower or that cream from Ginny that helped the most. Maybe both. I did also release a lot of pent of sadness.

"Good, alright. I've packed your purse, found your wand—why was it in your cereal cabinet? —and called to make sure everything's ready. So, let's get going," he said in a rush, grabbing my hand.

"Wait, what? Where?" I don't allow myself to be pulled any further. I want answers. And I don't want to leave my flat.

Harry's eyes bug out. "Oh, whoops, forgot to mention. Ginny got you a hair appointment and I scheduled a massage for after that. You're going to get pampered today and you can't say 'no.'" He pulls at my hand again. "Ron suggested we stop at the bookstore on the way home, so if you're up to that, we'll go afterwards, okay?"

I haven't read a book in too long. I can't concentrate on the information on the page or the characters and their story. None of it has interested me lately. But maybe a new book would help. I don't want to listen to Ron's advice out of anybody's but he does still know me too well, despite everything that has happened between us. Why couldn't he just forget my existence, huh? I've been trying and it's been working more or less.

"You can't be serious?"

"But, Hermione, your hair is beautiful, why would you want to—"

"I said all of it. I want it gone. It'll grow back." I refuse to look away from the reflection of my determined eyes in the mirror. If Ginny was here, I would not be able to even suggest such a thing. She loves my hair for some bizarre reason. Its bushiness is just another reason I stand out as an outsider, ugly, just like my old buck teeth I was bullied for—at least those were fixed thanks to Madame Pomfrey, not that she knew she was an accomplice.

The stylist shakes her head, but realizes I won't budge. The electric razor powers on, the buzzing filling this section of the salon.

~~~BREAK~~~

Harry is waiting for me in the hall outside the masseuse's room, a large grin plastered on his face. My body feels like gelatin but overall, I'm feeling alright.

Maybe I did need this day.

"Bookstore time?" Harry asks as he pushes himself off the wall.

I nod timidly. I still don't know if I can go.

Harry keeps hold of my hand as we walk down the streets of Muggle London. He knows better than to bring me to Diagon Alley at the moment. I don't want to see people I know. I don't want them to see me. I fit in better with the Muggles anyway. I'm just a Mudblood after all.

I peek through the window of the bookstore we stop in front of. It looks cozy, made for book lovers specifically. Warm lighting hangs from the ceiling and illuminates piles and shelves of books. Normally, I wouldn't think twice about stepping inside there and living between the shelves for several hours.

But I'm not normal. Not at all. And I don't deserve to go into that beautiful haven.

"I want to go home, Harry," I murmur, staring at my shoes.

Harry just sighs quietly and turns around to head back the way we came.

After he helps me into a clean set of pajamas and leaves me on my bed, Harry finds all my dirty clothes. They would normally be all in the hamper in my bathroom, but…I couldn't be bothered lately. There was no point. What if I wanted to wear them again or something? And it is just too so much effort, anyway…

He puts them all in a basket, asks where I keep the detergent, and heads out to the laundry room down the hall of the building.

Why is he doing all this for me? I haven't been that great of a friend to him lately. It can't just be because he feels guilty for me helping him so much at Hogwarts, can it? That's probably why he's taking care of me so much right now—because I did everything for him in school. It's to pay me back for everything, or else he'd feel too guilty.

He'd deny it if I broached the subject, so I keep quiet when he comes back to my room eventually with all my laundry folded or ready to hang.

"I cleaned up your living room and kitchen and boiled some pasta. There's some tomato sauce you can heat up to go with the pasta for dinner, okay?"

I can't answer. I'm not hungry. I haven't been hungry. My eating earlier was because it was an action that felt normal and calming.

Harry finishes up and sits down on the side of my bed. His hand on my arm is warm and affectionate. "I'll be back tomorrow. Can you be ready to go out around one-thirty?"

"No," I respond blankly. "Why?"

"You have one more appointment and I think you'll appreciate it the most. It's a surprise until we get there, though." He smiles and pats me lightly. "Please eat dinner soon. I'll see you tomorrow."

An hour later or so, my stomach rumbles and I think about dinner. But as soon as I get out of bed, I stand staring at my closed bedroom door for several moments. No.

I go back to bed and hope Harry forgets about me tomorrow, like he should have done long ago.

There you go, my first chapter to my first fanfiction in five years. To my Death Note fans, thanks for making it this far and there miiight be some new/updated stories in the future. This will also be cross-posted to AO3, same username. Please don't hesitate to review with comments or questions!