Chapter 1

What Now by Rihanna

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Hermione was lying on her back staring at the ceiling. The first rays of sun were peeking through the curtains from a little gap in the middle, letting in just enough light for her to distinguish shapes in the dark. It had been more than a week since she'd had a full nights sleep. Ever since she had woken up back at Shell Cottage, sleep had come in fretful doses. She would wake up in the middle of the night screaming from her night terrors, her heart thumping in her chest and tears streaming down her face.

The Dreamless Sleep potion Fleur would give her every night had no effect on her, either because she took it too often and had built an immunity to it or the dosage wasn't strong enough. She had asked the blond woman if she could take more when she woke up in the middle of the night, but Fleur had shaken her head in refusal, the risk of addiction being too high.

Sighing she pushed the sheets off of her, sitting upright on the edge of the bed, her feet just about skimming the floor. Hermione stretched out and grabbed the housecoat Fleur had left for her on the bedside table. Padding across the room to her en-suite bathroom, she closed the door behind her and with a trembling hand opened the hot tap in the sink, watching it spiral down the drain while the uneasy feeling she had become used to settled in her stomach .

After the first night where she had woken up confused, Hermione had quickly come to realise that being around and even worse in contact with water made her anxious. The thought of having a shower, water running down her face and into her nose and mouth was enough for her heart to start pounding in her chest and a cold sweat would start to develop down her back. She knew that her fear was irrational. She had never suffered from it before and had told herself multiple times that it was just in her mind. Nothing would happen to her if she went for a shower. She wouldn't drown. She couldn't drown. Not in that tiny space where she was in control of everything that surrounded her. No matter how many times she told herself that she just had to hear a tap running for the gut wrenching fear to reappear.

Hermione sighed as she watched the steam from the tap rising up and start to fog the mirror over the sink. Breathing evenly to try to control her nerves she tried to remember what had happened in the last two weeks.

Everything seemed to be such a blur, having slept through most of it. Hermione had felt as if her feelings of negativity and uselessness were weighing her down. She had crawled into bed hoping that the feeling would pass, but it only got worse. Nothing she did seemed to shake the feeling away. She had woken up once to find a pile of books on her bedside table and had thought that reading would cheer her up, but she found no joy in the pages and she didn't see the point in persevering. She hadn't touched a book since.

She felt apathetic and not even Harry and Ron coming to check on her changed that. In fact, it just made her retreat even more into her shell, she didn't even turn around to look at them. After all, they couldn't possibly understand what she was going through so why try to explain it to them.

Sometimes when she was feeling particularly low she resented them for what had happened. For agreeing with her idea, for letting her go on her own. And when the night terrors were particularly bad and she woke up in a panic, she even wished it was one of them and not her that had been tortured. She hated herself for it afterwards, for thinking such horrible thoughts, for wishing her friends evil. If she were truthful, she wouldn't even wish what happened to her on her worst enemy.

The only constant in her life was Fleur. The young French woman would come up multiple times a day either to bring her food or just to keep her company. Fleur never had a worrying or pitying look for her as the others did and instead engaged in cheerful small talk with the brunette. She didn't even care that Hermione didn't answer and she just continued talking for both of them.

Bringing herself back to the present, she wiped the steam that covered the mirror with the sleeve of her housecoat and stared at her reflection. Today her negative feelings didn't seem so bad, it felt more like a vague sadness surrounding the edge of her mind. She still might burst into tears at the smallest thing, but at least it was manageable. At least she could get out of bed.

Her eyes examined her face for the first time in months. Her hair had lost any lustre it had previously held and hung in dry, limp curls around her face. The bags under her eyes were more prominent than they had been during third year with the Time-turner. Her skin looked dull and her cheeks seemed to have lost the last bit of their youthful chubbiness.

Hermione had never been one to care much about her looks. After all, she had spent six months living in a tent without a mirror to look into and it had never bothered her. But now she held a new-found fascination for the piece of reflective metal for the simple reason that she no longer recognised the person that was staring back at her. She knew that that was indeed her, she just couldn't help but feel that the way she looked didn't match the way she felt inside.

She sighed and turned the water off. There was no point standing there trying to convince herself to go for a shower when she knew it wouldn't happen. Casting a Cleaning Charm on herself to look presentable, she gave herself one last look in the mirror before leaving the bathroom and crawling back into bed. She still had a little time before the others would be awake and she was hoping to get a few extra hours of sleep.

XXX

The door creaked open and Fleur entered, a breakfast tray filled with food levitating in front of her. Hermione rolled over and checked the time on the clock by her bedside, eight thirty sharp, Fleur was always so punctual in bringing up her meals. Hermione felt oddly comforted with that knowledge, she had come to depend on her routine and felt ill at ease when something didn't go as planned. She found that because she had so little control over her emotions of late, the little control she could find was a welcome relief. The young French woman placed the tray on the little desk at the other side of the room that now served her as a makeshift dining table. With a flick of Fleur's wand, the curtains in her room flew open and the spring light filled the room. Hermione squinted at the sudden burst of light and watched as Fleur busied herself around the room. Without a word, the brunette wrapped a blanket around her shoulder and made her way to the tiny table.

"Ze twins are going to bee staying 'ere, zey 'ave been driving Aunt Muriel crazy with all zeir experiments. Last night zey were brewing a potion and eet exploded, burnt holes in ze carpet and curtains in zeir room. It was ze last straw, she went crazy. If you ask me I think zey did eet on purpose." Fleur announced while tidying around the room, dusting the bedside table and making the bed.

Hermione smiled to herself, only the twins would create a mess to escape from something. Fleur, noticing the brunette's reaction, felt her shoulders relax slightly. Today seemed to be a good day for the young witch, she looked less dejected than usual and she didn't have to fight with her to get out of bed and have breakfast like she normally did.

Fleur knew that something was wrong with Hermione, they all did, her behaviour was far from normal. Like everyone else she had tried in the beginning to find out what was causing this sudden change in behaviour, but had been met with blank stares from the young girl whenever she broached the subject. She had soon given up, Hermione would tell them what was bothering her when she was ready and there was no point in harassing her.

"I told them zat if zey ruin my carpet or cause any explosions in ze 'ouse I would cut Fred's ear off and make zem look like twins again" Fleur laughed.

"Zey will have to stay in ze sitting room. Zere aren't enough rooms 'ere. When Ginny found out ze twins were staying 'ere she insisted on coming too but zis isn't a hotel. I 'ink she likes me less now zen she did before. Tant pis," she said shrugging her shoulders. "And anyway, she eez 'ere most of ze day and only goes back to Aunt Muriel's to sleep."

The room fell into comfortable silence as Fleur went around organising the room while still keeping an eye on the witch.

"Ginny's here?" Hermione finally asked in an attempt at conversation.

Fleur smiled, yes today would be a good day she thought to herself. "Yes, she eez 'ere every day complaining about Aunt Muriel and trying to make me feel bad. She even got Ron trying to convince me. But eet isn't going to work," she chuckled.

"You should go see zem, you know. Zey are squatting in my sitting room, plotting about something or ze oder. Zey think we can't see."

Hermione hummed softly, having finished eating she pushed her plate away from her and leant back against the chair bringing one foot up to rest on the seat of the chair.

"Harry and Ron 'ave gone to see Remus but they should be back after lunch. I think eet would be good for you to get some air, get out of zis room. You must be bored of eet, non? I know zey would be 'appy to see you."

Hermione shrugged her shoulders, tugging a loose strand of hair behind her hair she twisted around to face Fleur.

"I'll think about it."

XXX

Hermione was standing in front of her bedroom door, mentally preparing herself for what laid behind it. She had spent the time since Fleur had left weighing the pros and the cons of leaving her room.

Once she stepped out of the door she wouldn't have any control on what was happening around her. She had become familiar with everything in her room and with the routine Fleur had inadvertently created, she knew what to expect and for how long. Hell, if she wasn't feeling up to it she could just pretend she was asleep.

On the rare moments, she wasn't troubled by the weight of her despair Hermione had tried her best to push away the memories that were plaguing her in an attempt to feel better. She hadn't been very successful, the memories still gnawed at her brain, lurking in the corner ready to pop up at any given moment. She knew her friends would want to talk about what happened to her, ask her questions and she dreaded it. Hermione wasn't ready to tell her story, she didn't want to answer any questions. She just wanted to be left alone to deal with this. She knew that once she stepped out of her room there would be no more hiding. And it terrified her.

Hermione sighed and with a shaky hand grasped the handle and opened the door. Making her way to the staircase, she descended slowly, her hand taunt on the rail, her grip tightening the closer she got to the landing. She could hear the distinctive voices of Harry and Ron coming from the sitting room, as well as others she knew, were familiar but, couldn't quite put a name to them. A wave of apprehension flooded her stomach. As she reached the bottom of the stairs Hermione's arms wound their way around her waist, holding herself tight as she entered the living room.

The room was different, she realised as she scanned it. It looked more like a camp than anything else. The big settee that normally throned in the middle of the room had been transfigured into a single bed and the plush armchair that was normally reserved for Bill had received the same treatment. The two beds sat next to each other separated by a small coffee table, one of the few things that had been left unchanged. A small cauldron was bubbling away atop it and potion ingredients were strewn all around. Bright orange boxes with the Weasley Wizard Wheezes logo were lying around the table and clothes were scattered around and overflowing from a small suitcase by the fireplace. Sitting on the floor around the table were Harry, Neville and Ron all of whom were paying close attention to what Fred was telling them in hushed tones. George and Ginny were sitting on one of the beds while he showed her how to strap what looked oddly like a holster onto her forearm.

Oblivious to her presence in the room they continued their conversations and Hermione took the opportunity as she stood in the doorway to focus on them. Neville had changed the most since the last time she had seen him she realised. He had lost all of his puppy fat and looked much older than he actually was. He had managed to build up quite a physique in the few months and she briefly wondered what they could have been doing at Hogwarts for him to have changed so much. Hermione's eyebrows knitted in confusion as she noticed the scarred flesh that covered more than half of his neck and disappeared under his top. She shuddered at the thought of what spell would inflict such damage that a healing spell couldn't restore it properly.

The twins had grown out their hair and it just about covered their ears giving them a boyish look, quite reminiscent of their fifth year. Ginny was the only one who remained unchanged from when she had left, a determined look on her face as she paid attention to what George was telling her.

Deciding it was time to make her presence known she cleared her throat and watched as their heads swung up to look at her. "Surprise!" she said as enthusiastically as she could, trying to hide the anxiety that was rising in her chest.

The room fell silent as the group of Gryffindors stared at her in stunned silence. Fleur had mentioned to Harry that she had tried to talk Hermione into leaving her room, he had thought it would be a while before she actually made an appearance and hadn't thought to warn the others of her possible arrival.

The Weasleys were all aware of Hermione's condition, after all, they had been present when Harry and Ron had brought her back to Shell Cottage after the elephant of Gringotts. Since then there had been a nightly meeting between them to monitor Hermione's progress. She was part of their family in equal rights as any of them and they were all worried about her. Her lack of progress worried them and they didn't know what to do to help her.

"Hermione," he said and her eyes snapped up to meet his, "what are you doing here? Should you be out of bed?" he asked worryingly.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she answered, giving him a timid smile. "Thought I'd get some fresh air and maybe see if you and Ron wanted to… hmmm… talk," she finished in a soft voice, unsure of what exactly she wanted to do.

Harry's eyes opened slightly in surprise and he ran his hand through his already messy hair. Hermione had successfully managed to shut them out whenever they went to see her and her sudden change in disposition startled him, he wasn't sure how to deal with it.

"Sure," he answered as he and Ron exchanged a hopeful look. "Why don't we go to the beach and really get you some fresh air."

"No!" she blurted her eyes wide in panic as they all exchanged a look of consternation at her outburst. "No," she repeated again, this time, more quietly, "I'm not dressed for it," she continued indicating the thin housecoat Fleur had lent her.

"I think ... and I might be going out on a limb when I say this, but I'm pretty sure there's a spell for that," George said a small smile lifting up the corners of his mouth though his eyes betrayed a look of confusion.

"Even so, I don't really fancy going out right now. It looks far too windy," Hermione answered meekly, a poor excuse even for her.

"Fine, how about we go into the kitchen, maybe get something to eat," Harry said just as Ron was going to question her further. He didn't think that Ron's boorish ways where the way to go, not when they were getting a semblance of Hermione back.

She nodded slowly and turned around, heading into the kitchen, ignoring the other occupants of the room as she left. Harry and Ron gave each other a questioning look before standing up and trailing behind Hermione as four sets of eyes followed her out.