A/N: SO. This kinda just spilled out of me yesterday while I was reading "Once Upon A Potion's Class".
They have nothing to do with each other. It just popped to me at that moment.
Let me know if I should continue. I have many more chapters written but I don't know if I should just keep it as this twoshot.
- Me
DISCLAIMER: THAT THING. WHERE. I DON'T OWN HARRY POTTER. YEAH.
Chapter 1
The cold from the tile floor under her could be felt through her denim shorts. The voice in head was getting louder.
She clutched her mass of hair, rocking back and forth.
Her eyes were blurry with unshed tears, trying to focus on the white sink cabinet in front of her.
'Crucio, you filthy Mudblood!'
"No, no, NO. SHUT UP," she insisted, hitting her palms against her temples, squeezing her eyes shut.
Her cackle rang throughout the large ballroom.
"NO," she sobbed loudly. She was grateful she had put a silencing charm on the small dorm bathroom.
She banged her head lightly against the wall behind her.
She was on top of her, blade gleaming.
'You'll cut to cope. You'll bleed out that disgusting disgraceful filth from your veins and think of me.'
And she spat on her face, sneering joyfully at the defeated desolate girl.
Hermione looked at her bare arms. One arm bore her trademark insult, the other sporting twelve thin white horizontal lines.
So much self-inflicted harm. Her logical mind knew it was wrong, that it didn't help, not really, and that Bellatrix was gone. Long gone.
But the other half… told her she was useless, that she deserved it. A part of her silently kept her abuser alive.
The tears flowed freely now, pouring down her cheeks.
The blade was next to her, slowly coming to reside in her left hand.
Harry and Ron had asked her when she had become so ambidextrous.
She just mentally flinched and tried her best to deceive.
'Poor baby. It'll make you feel better,' the thin yet sultry voice in her head cooed.
She scowled. Only because she knew she'd give in. And soon.
She brought the small X-acto knife to her wrist.
Sighing in relief, she felt the cool touch of the blade slide against her skin.
Slowly, one after the other, the volume of the voice lowered, reducing it to a whisper.
Oh, how the release was all too sweet.