A/N: This one-shot is in response to the Defense Against Dark Arts Classroom Assignment #4, Task 2a: Write about a physical disability. This can be a permanent one, a temporary one or anything else you can think of as long as it's strictly physical. Prompts used will be displayed at an author's note at the bottom.

Disclaimer: None of my work belongs to me, it is solely the property of the one and only J.K. Rowling and any other company which has the copyright of Harry Potter, including Warner Bros. Nothing here belongs to me; all the characters are J.K. Rowling's originally, though any new character not part of the Harry Potter series belongs to me.

Title: Voiceless she cries

Author: hpjkrowling4ever

Voiceless she cries

Magic could do many things: save lives, heal wounds, break bones, conjure fire. Magic could do many things, both dark and light, terrible and wonderful, Eloise knew. However, magic could not heal a wound so old she couldn't remember a life without it. And she resented Magic for it. If Magic could so easily make the memory of an entire house disappear from everyone's minds because of a spell, why couldn't it make her speak?

For since the age of two, Eloise Midgen had not spoken a word. Her older brother, in a fit of temper, had Vanished her tongue with accidental magic. No Healer at St. Mungo's or specialist wizarding clinic could help her. Re-growing a tongue was too difficult; impossible. Eloise had never hated her brother for the anger that had cost her her voice. No matter how useless and broken and hurt Eloise was, she never took out her loneliness on her brother. After all, George had learnt sign language for her; George had sat beside her and helped her learn her spells wordlessly. He felt so guilty for his mistake, and Eloise could not bring herself to make him feel worse.

The girls in Gryffindor came to her with their secrets, because no witch could be bothered to learn sign language. No spell had been invented to read thoughts and weave them into words. Eloise was the most trusted person in Gryffindor, but not because of her own merit. The crushing, deep-seated loneliness had driven her to the top of the Astronomy Tower many a night, and she had cried soundless tears, choking on her own lack of voice. It was so easy to fade into the background with no voice. There was no giggling or gossiping for her; Lavender and Parvati had ignored her many a time, lying on each other's beds waving their wands in shapeless patterns and telling secrets that Eloise was privy to simply because she could never tell a soul.

Sometimes, Eloise would crawl into the windowsill in the dorm and stare out at the Lake, or the Forest, and allow herself to dream. She would dream of discovering a spell that would give her a voice, a spell to re-grow her tongue, anything. Her magical prowess was prodigious; her knowledge of the Wizarding World extensive, yet none of this would give her a voice, and despite this inevitable reality, Eloise would sit there and dream.

On such a night, when the darkness was creeping into her thoughts and wrapping its long, smoky tendrils around her throat, crouching there ready to suffocate her, Eloise crept out of bed, wrapped her dressing gown around her and slid into the windowsill next to her bed. As she leant her head back on the age-old stone of Hogwarts, she heard the door to the dorm creak open. Eloise's neck snapped as she whirled around to face the door, only to meet Hermione Granger's shocked brown ones.

She sighed. Hermione was unpredictable. Her friendship with Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley kept her up at all hours of the night, whether it be because she was with them or lying in bed worrying about them. Eloise's hearing was very acute. The fact that she was mute meant that she had honed her other senses so that she would always be able to have the advantage if a fight arose. Hermione's tossing and turning and restless murmurs always reached Eloise's ears, and out of the four girls she shared a dorm with, Eloise thought that Hermione Granger might understand the darkness that surrounded her more than the other three might.

"Eloise?" Hermione whispered, tiptoeing across the warm red rug on the floor and over to where she was curled up on the sill. "Are you okay?"

Of all the girls in the dorm, Hermione was the one that Eloise had spent the longest studying; she puzzled the mute Gryffindor. Hermione had never made much of an effort to get along with her dorm mates, but was still kind and gentle and understanding if anyone talked to her about something. She participated in some of the chat that went on, and often came here with a book to read on the sill. Magically, Hermione was almost unequalled in her power and knowledge. She had always treated Eloise normally, and any conversation she had undertaken with her made Eloise feel included and accepted, because Hermione always knew what questions to ask and how to interpret her silences. She was a bit like George that way.

Eloise nodded in reply to Hermione's question, and waited for the girl to move away, but instead she Summoned her blanket from her bed and wrapped it around her. She leant back against Eloise's bed and gave a gentle smile.

"I won't be able to sleep tonight." She took a deep breath. "At least I'll have company for a bit. You can go back to bed if you want."

Eloise shook her head and raised an eyebrow questioningly. What's up? Hermione let out her breath in one long whoosh and closed her eyes in despair.

"That's a loaded question, Eloise," Hermione answered with a rough chuckle. Eloise gave a soundless laugh. Vanishing tongues meant that she couldn't even laugh properly.

"Harry's having nightmares again." Hermione looked up at the ceiling, a frustrated whine in her voice. "Ron just told me."

Eloise tilted her head to the side, silently asking Hermione to keep going. Hermione took the hint with a small smile.

"Ron was doing homework in the Common Room. I was going down to get some water and we started talking." Hermione shifted slightly. "We both love Harry to absolute bits, but he's the worst for asking for help."

Eloise snorted. At least she could still do that. Hermione shot her a look, but it was without venom.

"It's the fault of his blasted relatives. Ron told me how they had to pull bloody bars off Harry's window to rescue him three years ago." Hermione covered her face with her hands and continued to speak, her voice slightly muffled. Eloise leant forwards to hear her better. "Now Umbridge has got it in for Harry and I don't have the foggiest what she's doing to him in those detentions, but it's making Harry go pale and weak and giving him nightmares again. And he's not telling us."

Eloise blinked. Hermione had never really confided anything into her, preferring to talk about light things, or the books she was reading, or some homework they had received in class. And Eloise had always appreciated that, because it meant that she wasn't a soundboard for Hermione. Somehow, this moment of weakness from the indomitable, fearless Hermione Granger was more special to Eloise than any other moment she had had at Hogwarts.

Eloise shifted from her position in the windowsill and stood up in one fluid movement, surprising Hermione. Then Eloise crouched down beside Hermione and wrapped her in her arms, pulling the bushy-haired, tired girl in for a strong hug. She felt all the resistance in Hermione crumble after a moment, and arms wrapped around her waist, holding on tight. A spark lit itself in Eloise's heart. The blanket fell half onto Eloise as well, and the two girls stayed there on the rug for a very long time and the darkness peeled its claws away from Eloise bit by bit until the only thing left was the warmth in Eloise's heart from the hug.

A few weeks later, Eloise was lying on her bed trying to work through some Runes when Hermione bounded into the dorm in an uncharacteristic display of lightheartedness. Eloise glanced up in surprise, and saw Fay Dunbar, who had the bed next to the door, jump back in shock. Eloise gave a breathy laugh, which cut off halfway through when Hermione sat down at the end of her bed. No one ever sat at the end of Eloise's bed. Eloise could see Fay glancing at them curiously.

"Eloise!" Hermione exclaimed excitedly. "I did some research."

Eloise raised an eyebrow. You always do research.

"Wait, wait, don't look at me like that, you'll like this one." Hermione made herself comfortable, crossed her legs, took a deep breath and lifted her hands.

Thank you for helping me the other night.

Eloise's eyebrows shot up into her hairline, but the warmth in her heart flared back to life violently at the sign language. Hermione had made an effort to learn how to speak Eloise's language.

Thank you for learning sign language.

Hermione laughed in delight, a beautiful, tinkling sound that made Fay frown in confusion.

You have always been there, and no one has ever bothered to learn your language. And that is unfair. Hermione's hands were moving painstakingly slowly, but the message they were spelling was so beautiful to Eloise that she couldn't give a damn. You may be voiceless in all the normal ways, but I would like to hear you.

The warmth turned into a bonfire and didn't go out, spreading light and happiness and some giddy feeling that Eloise hadn't quite placed yet throughout her body. A stunning smile lit up her face and was answered on Hermione's.

Maybe this was what the start of a friendship felt like.

A/N: I used the prompts covering face with hands and confusion.