When I first heard the prompts and theme for round seven of the Quidditch League fanfiction, I was stumped. How was I supposed to write a story based after Scream 4? But then I realized the main character of the movie writes a book to overcome trauma, and that is something I can work with. I chose the prompts "envy" and "It's the honest ones you want to watch out for. — Pirates of the Caribbean", and so I wrote a story about Hermione overcoming PTSD. Something I am all to familiar with. If you guys have read my narrative "Her Story" you know what messed up things I have been through. And therefore I dealt with some similar PTSD that what I write about Hermione facing. But I am not alone, 70% of adults in the U.S. have experienced some type of traumatic event at least once in their lives and up to 20% of these people go on to develop PTSD (PTSD United). And and estimated one out of every nine women develops PTSD, making them about twice as likely as men (PTSD United). If you are like me and you need someone to talk too, please comment your account or your email address so we can talk about it privately! I would love to be there for you, and maybe your story would inspire another fanfic of mine (with permission of course!) (Word count: 1650)
—
The day was March 9th, a gloomy Saturday in Muggle London. The street was busy with people, and Hermione Jean Granger just happened to be one. She was just trying to do some light shopping, but the standstill crowds weren't going to allow that to happen.
Then, through the sighs of annoyance and stomps of her foot, something happened. It was an old woman that just happened to be standing next to her, well pressed against her. It was fine with the girl up until their forearms brushed, which might seem insignificant to many. But this small contact sent Hermione into a state she had never been before, because in an instant she couldn't breath.
She was no longer in the busy crowd walking on a sidewalk, she was in Malfoy Mannor with Bellatrix on top of her. She could feel the pain in her arm, the same arm the woman brushed up against, and could only hear her own screams. Then, a moment later, it was all gone. But the breath still hasn't come back in her lungs, and she still hadn't moved from the spot she froze in. It didn't come back until minutes later when the crowd began to shuffle along, and she along with it. That day continued as normal, and many did after that. But that one thing remained on her mind, what happened to her and why was did she go back there?
—-
As the weeks went by the incidents continued, and they were set off by the simplest things. Touches, words, and smells. She woke up everyday with a frown on her face and the knowledge that she was going to have to relive her darkest moments. It was hell.
Though the worst part wasn't the visions or the pain, it was the feeling of aloneness that came with the whole situation. Whenever her flashback ended she would look around and no one else would've noticed, it was just her and her memories, and her tears. She was so envious of her friends and their ability to jump back into everyday life, because she still felt so stuck in the past in all of the worst ways. Stuck like nobody else was.
—
PTSD, the muggle book said it was PTSD. Flashbacks and panic attacks were only mere symptoms of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, what many would consider a non magical disease. Something that, for some reason, wouldn't affect the wizards and witches of the world. But that didn't make sense to the witch, because she was almost positive she had it, which meant it wasn't just for muggles. Then why did none of the wizard psychology books mention it? War and trauma affect wizards too.
And it was that moment that Hermione vowed to herself that she would find as much as she could on the subject, and try to figure out why it wasn't a "magical problem."
—
For the next month all Hermione did was talk to wizard psychiatrists, trying to get answers. But everything she heard was that it was lower than witches and wizards. That they should be able to process trauma faster, despite no scientific research to back it up.
It was that moment that Hermione Jean Granger made a decision that would change her life forever, and hopefully many other's. She was going to write a book about PTSD, and she was going to change everyone's minds about it.
—-
The first time she told Harry and Ron about her idea to write a book, they laughed in her face. And that was exactly what she had expected of them. Even though she had tried to stir the results a little in her favor at first.
She invited them to lunch in Hogsmeade, and hid it as a friendly get together. Then, halfway through their drinks, she sprung the news on them. About the book and PTSD. About the symptoms and problems it holds for the magical world.
Their first reaction, as mentioned before, was laughter. They honestly must've thought she was joking. But as Hermione continued on with her explanation, their chuckles faded. Their faces dropped and their eyes grew darker. "What are you talking about Hermione?" Harry said after a minute of silence.
"PTSD." Hermione said insistently, "Haven't you heard of it? I literally spent the last 10 minutes trying to make understandable."
"Of course I have. But do you really think It affects the wizarding community like the muggle one, Hermione?" Harry asked.
"What do you mean!?" The young witch exclaimed furiously.
"What I mean is do you really think we are ready to accept the thought that we, as a society, are not ready to move on from the war. Right now everyone likes to think we are." Harry said as if taking to a child, slowly and surely.
"Harry!" Hermione screamed as she jumped up from her seat. "I think you are just denying it because you know that you suffer from it too! Avoiding all signs of your parents, or camping, or even Hogwarts! Those are all symptoms!" Harry sputtered Hermione's words, not knowing what to say. "And Ron!" The witch said with a turn toward the man that had previously been silent. "Don't act as if your sudden need for alcohol is because you like it! You and I both know it is because you have some trauma from the war you try to forget!"
"Come on 'Mione, you know people aren't ready for that. It's the honest ones you want to watch out for." Ron said nonchalantly at the girl.
That was when hell exploded, and both of the boy's mouths fell open as she stormed away, fury on her face. She was going to write that dam book even if she ruined her friendships over it.
—-
She wrote and wrote and wrote like nobody's business. She wrote about the disorder and the symptoms, She wrote about her journey and the old woman in the crowd. Then she wrote about other's people's story, her brave friends who volunteered to give her their account. And when she finally sent the story into a publisher, they didn't know what to say. But one thing was for certain, they loved it.
— One Year Later—-
"Even though it was little bit of a shock at first, Hermione Granger's first novel called 'PTSD And Other Reasons The Wizarding World Can't Move On' is a stand out best seller only months after it's release date. The young woman spoke about a truth that many were too afraid to voice, and many weren't able to accept. But in doing that she became a voice of a generation and the face of a new movement that is taking wizarding mental health more seriously. Though the new question on everyone's mind is what will she do next?" Hermione read aloud at a small booth in the Leaky Cauldron, trying not to smile. Never once in the girl's life had Rita Skeeter spoken a positive word in her direction, but then here she is. Reading a glowing review from the woman, one that just happened to make the front page.
"Mione." A voice said from in front of her, causing her to look up and scowl.
"Harry, Ron." Hermione said as she addressed the people standing in front of her. "What are you doing here?"
"Trying to find you." Harry said in a small voice as he looked down at his feet.
"Well that's nice," Hermione began quite sarcastically, "I just hope you haven't been for the last year. Because, you know, that was when we last spoke. When I told you about my book."
The girl's words didn't help their embarrassed faces, and frankly she didn't care. She was done trying to care about them.
"You were right." Harry said quickly, still not meeting her eye.
"About the PTSD? Of course I was." She answered with little emotion in her voice, turning back to the paper still in her hand.
"We saw the article, you know, in the paper." Ron mumbled after another minute of silence.
"It was hard not to Ronald, it's on the front page." She said, still not looking up.
"Interview us." Harry stated bluntly.
"What?" Hermione asked suddenly, finally looking up with surprise on her face.
"You're next book, we want you to interview us." Ron finally finished.
A small smile came over Hermione's face as a simple "Okay" slipped her lips. Her future was finally looking up.