Unlike what you might think, Hermione did not mope in sadness after that, in fact, somehow Hermione Granger seemed almost...happier. The difference was subtle, barely even noticeable unless you were looking but her smile seemed brighter. She stopped people in the halls to talk and she even hung out with a group of Ravenclaw volunteers.

People smiled in delight when they saw her, watching as she took joy in helping others, using her brilliant mind and magical skills to help make a change for the betterment of Hogwarts Future. People couldn't help but ask her what was her secret...how did she stay so positive and energetic.

She'd smile modestly with a pleased flush marring her cheeks.

"There's no secret. My heart is just in it." She'd reply.

A pretty little lie.

Hermione Granger did have a secret. A monumental one but it would be a cold day in hell before she ever said it.


The stillness of the common room heightened her senses as she crept across the floor to the boys stair case. She felt distinctly aware of every breath she took and the heart hammering in her chest.

She licked her dry lips, her eyes darting to the bright moon outside of the glass window. She paused as she caught sight of her own reflection, the pale light making her features look ghostly and her eyes wide but strangely dark. Was it the lack of sleep that painted her eyes so or her nefarious intentions?

She sucked in a harsh breath and averted her eyes. Maybe it was both but she could hardly stop herself now.

She felt wild. The opportunity the night afforded her was not something she felt inclined to resist no matter how wrong it was.

She crept up the stairs, every step that she took making her breathing more accelerated. There was no trying to talk herself out of it, she was past that point now. She had succumbed to this base desire and just embraced it.

Besides, it was not weakness that lead her to his dorm. She knew without a shadow of a doubt that if what she felt was just a passing fancy that she would resist it, after all her morals and self-righteousness were more than impressive as she had proved countless times in the past. This was about Harry and love both of which had always been out of her control.

Nothing could drive a person madder than love.

At his door, she withdrew her wand and pressed it against the wood, trailing the tip into a runic symbol for bewitched sleep that had long ago been used on her for the Triwizard tournament.

What a powerful thing, that. She thought as she stepped inside to the sounds of all the occupants deep breathing. All the wicked things magic makes a person capable of.

Her eyes flickered briefly over to Ron's bed, his mane of red hair falling gracelessly over his face and eyes as he lay splayed on his bed. He really needs a trim. Her mind noticed dimly before she turned her attention to her target.

Harry lay on his back, his chest slowly rising and falling to his soft breathing. She sat next to him with her legs dangling off the side of the bed, staring down at his face with the silver glow from the moon. She reached out and brushed his hair away before trailing her fingers down his face to his slightly parted lips. At least there is no frown this time.

Usually when she came in, Harry's brows were furrowed in his sleep or his teeth would be grinding, it pleased her to see his face peaceful for a change. Her fingers came up to lightly trail across his scar. She thought about the day and how things felt almost normal between them all earlier during dinner.

She had sat beside Ginny for once, Ron and Harry on the other side and there were no deep staring between the couple to make her stomach twist unpleasantly or no cold and jumpy Ron to make her feel miserable and undesirable. No, surprisingly everybody just seemed to be like their past selves without feelings getting in the way. Hermione had quipped at them all for being lazy with their respective restoration projects, everyone had rolled their eyes good-naturedly, Ron had cracked some jokes and Ginny talked with the boys about Quidditch.

She had not had any of her...blackouts. Her head felt clearer and she could stand to be around Harry and Ginny though Ron was proving to be a hard matter to deal with. Getting the boy to talk or kiss or even be around her for longer than approximately three minutes felt exhausting and usually ended with a fight.

She sighed, leaning her body over Harry's absentmindedly.

Really, Ron was being absurdly reclusive and there was definitely something fishy in his behavior.

"I wonder what could be going on with him..." she thought out loud not worried about anyone hearing her. "Not that you've really noticed, have you Harry, since your eyes are spent staring at Ginny."

"Maybe there's someone else." She continued to muse, retracting her hand to cross her arms over his chest to cradle her head and staring out the window. "Probably should make me feel angry, shouldn't it?"

She sighed again and closed her eyes, feeling the begins of sleep wash over her.

"There's something wrong with all of us, isn't there, Harry?" She whispered tiredly.

There was no denying that something was wrong with her and definitely something wrong with Ron.

"Even you... though you try so hard to hide it." She propped her chin on her hands as she looked at him.

"I wonder if we can go back to normal permanently instead of like how its been."

Her expression grew pained as she knew deep inside that the probability of that happening was slim to none and it was all her own fault. She could not stop her love for him and so long as it existed then so did this horrible barrier that has wedged itself between the group. She was never going to tell him her feelings. She did not want to ask anything of him that she knew he could not give and he was not likely to leave Ginny so...

She leaned up to press a brief kiss against his mark.

"I'm sorry Harry." she said again as was becoming her habit before she ghosted her lips over his.

So there really was no chance of the normalcy from before the war.


"What do you think, Miss. Granger?" The coordinating architect asked her. Her eyes followed the direction of his finger on the lay out sheet he held out before her and nodded pensively.

"I think I can coordinate with the other group leaders to get it done," she responded, her eyes flicking up just in time to see a mop of recognizable red hair disappearing quickly out of sight. She frowned immediately, eyeing the fluttering tapestry.

"Miss Granger?"

"I'm sorry, please excuse me. I just saw..." she trailed off as she started away quite rudely but she could not let slip this opportunity. She quickly headed straight for the hidden passageway so few even knew about.

Where could he be going? She knew from experience that this passageway lead to the dungeons but why would Ron be going down there?

She slipped inside to find the hall empty and knew she would have to run if she were to catch up to his long strides. Stealthily disillusioning and silencing herself, she went after him, determined to get to the bottom of a one, Ronald Weasley, secret. She spotted him three staircases away down from where they started. His longer red hair flopped around on his head with the haste of which he was going down the stairs.

"What are you doing, Ronald Weasley?" She whispered as she watched him. "Why so eager to come down here?"

She sped up her pace as he came to the end of the stairs and peeked around the exiting tapestry before slipping out. When she came to it she also peered out from behind it and was meet with a crossroads going left, right and straight.

"Oh damn," she hissed not knowing which way he went. She bit her lip in frustration and was just about to go right when she heard voices trailing out in the hall in front of her. She ran forward, her heart spiking in her chest.

"Ow! Bloody hell Malfoy!" she heard Ron shout as somebody hissed at him. Her eyes widened as she strode quickly forward for the rounded corner.

"Oi! Shut up Weasley! You want someone to hear you?"

She rushed forward ready to hex Malfoy to oblivion but stopped short at the scene before her.

Malfoy was smiling. Not smirking or sneering but smiling as he held out a hand for Ron to take. And Ron, Ron not only looked reluctantly amused but he was accepting Malfoy's help.

"Are you alright? I thought you might have been someone else so thats why..." Ron waved him off, clearly not hurt at all.

"My fault. Should have gave the signal but I just..." He shrugged as Malfoy gave Ron a knowing look.

Hermione felt completely thrown at what she had happened across. Was this really it? This was Ron's big secret? But just what is this? Obviously, there was no maliciousness between them...

"I was surprised when you contacted me after getting out of the hospital. I thought after what happened that you would...I don't know...stop it." Ron said rubbing the back of his neck as he always did when he was feeling uncomfortable about something.

Hermione would have given an irritated sigh if she could at their annoying inability to finish their sentences. She felt very tempted to just give up her position and scold Ron. Use your words Ron! But Malfoy seemed to be just as incapable as him.

"Look, you and I both know I'm not likely to cut this stuff and its not nearly as fun without you so..." He trailed off and both boys averted their eyes as if it was too intimate to do otherwise.

Which, Hermione supposed, actually was pretty intimate considering that these two were supposed to be enemies.

"Well, let's do it then. I've been dying for this stuff since you've...been out." Ron said. Malfoy nodded but made no other move.

"Not here." he said.

"Well, obviously Draco." Ron responded.

She didn't know what it was. Maybe the ease of which Ron said Malfoy's name or how the seemed very comfortable just walking side by side but...she felt angry.

She couldn't even pin point why she felt so angry since her own actions were far worse then just befriending a Slytherin and earned Ron any recourse from her judging.

Yet, it remained hard for her to just follow quietly when she really wanted to reveal herself and demand an explanation from him. She did it but it was hard.

They followed the hall down to another staircase that took them even lower into the dungeons and she watched with gritted teeth as Ron went on with familiar steps, obviously having been to where ever they were heading.

Where they were heading was un-originally a wooden door albeit a deeply rooted door in the bowls of the dungeons but a door none-the-less. The stopped in front of it and it only irked her further when Ron know to wait for whatever it was Malfoy was doing to get the door open, which looked a lot like cutting open his hand...

The door opened on its own and she scrambled in after the boys before the door could shut itself.

What laid inside was far from ordinary. The room was massive, reminiscent in size to the come-and-go room's lost things. One entire section of the wall was glass so you could see straight out into the great lake which cast a greenish hue into the room. She felt like she stepped into a modernized billionare's room, the furniture and things lying around having probably been brought in by Malfoy. It was impressive and rich looking and she found herself gaping like a fish as she walked around.

Damn Slytherin's and their secret chambers! She thought bitterly as she shut her mouth and followed the two boys over to the posh black couches. Ron sat on the couch across from Malfoy with a table in between them, which she supposed she should feel grateful for since she really didn't know how she'd react if they sat side by side. As it is, she already was having a hard time with Ron just being here at all and felt the distance between them grow even further, sadly, not only their relationship as girl and boy but as best friends.

The Golden Trio really does seem doomed to go their separate ways. She reaffirmed as she made herself comfortable by the glass wall and prepared to watch whatever the two were about to do. Ron flicked his wand and lights that seemed to admit from no where turned on as Malfoy pulled out a tiny vial from his robes. Ron whistled with his eyes shooting up to his eyebrows making Malfoy throw him a cocky little smirk. Hermione squinted her eyes at the tiny purple bottle but found their was no label.

"When did you get that?" Ron asked with clear awe in his voice. Malfoy stuck his nose in the air with visible smugness as he uncorked the lid.

"Bought a couple bottles a month ago. Drank one all by myself, that's why I got put in the hospital. Over-dosage. Stuff is bloody powerful shit." He said as Ron looked clearly impressed.

"Well, that's what you get for being a stingy blither, eh?" he responded before he reached out and sniffed it.

"Ah, ah ah. Not so fast Ron. This stuff needs a little more preparation before you can take it or you'll end up just like me." he said before he pulled at his wand and accio'd a burner and a silver cup.

Both came soaring from somewhere she couldn't see and landed on the table softly. Malfoy wasted no time in started the burner and pouring the fluid into the silver cup before putting it on top of the hot surface.

"It's got to be hot." Malfoy explained as Ron watched on. "And the cup has to be pure."

"Whatever Draco, I just want to have a go at it." Malfoy rolled his eyes but handed Ron the cup to which he eagerly took a gulp out of.

They both watched Ron take a large gulp before he held it out for Malfoy, who took it but did not drink; instead he watched Ron's reaction as whatever he took started to take affect.

"It's called the Dragon's Belly. You understand why right about now, I suspect. That low boiling feeling that's not at all unpleasant- in fact it's down right, powerful..." Ron nodded a smile that was not at all pleasant for Hermione to see, curling onto his face.

"It's starts from the below and spreads out, coursing through the blood to every inch of you rising higher and higher until your feeling invincible, powerful beyond measure, like you are the dragon and you can take flight and you can breath fire..."

Ron let out a breath and Hermione jolted at seeing a cloud of purple smoke come out of Ron's mouth as his limbs completely relaxed and his eyes turned glazed. Malfoy smiled, definitely pleased as he brought the cup to his own lips and drank from it. The same affect happened to him and soon both boys were breathing out puffs of purple smoke.

Malfoy flicked his wrist and music came on from nowhere, surprising Hermione so much she jolted.

"Fuck, Draco." Ron moaned, sounding breathy with excitement all at once.

"I know Ron. I know." Malfoy responded. They both feel back into their respective couches and Hermione thought that maybe they had passed out but then something else entirely mind boggling happened.

They started to float in the air.

They did not seem to mind this as they just let their limbs hang with goofy smiles on their faces. They seemed to be literally too high to even care.

"Fuck." Ron said rather sluggishly but happily. Malfoy laughed. Actually laughed which seemed to make him float even higher. "Why isn't the whole world doing this?"

"Because they're all daft!"

For some reason this seemed to be especially funny to Ron as he cracked up and flew higher in the air.

"You're fucking right! You are so fucking right, Draco."

"Imagine having a nice pair of titties in your face right now." Malfoy said suddenly disturbingly licking his lips as Ron, alarmingly, moaned.

"That would be fu-ucking-per-fect!" he said, punctuating his syllables with thrusts of his hips making Malfoy howl in laughter and soar into the air.

"That's fucking hilarious, Ron! Do it again!" he ordered as Ron just did as he was bid, a funny expression on his face as he thrust his hips almost in a mock dance. "Wow, is that how you fuck a girl, Weasley?" he asked laughing and shaking his head. Ron started laughing too but stopped.

"I wish, Malfoy. You already know I can't get it up with Her-her-mione!"

Hermione felt sick. Her lips thinned as she watched the boys flying in the air. She wanted to hex them both. She wanted to punch Ron.

"Fucking performance issues! Literally!" Malfoy hollered.

And it continued on, the both of them hollering and flying, hollering and flying until finally-finally- eons later the laughter started to die, the high remarks quieting and they started sinking.

Malfoy was the first to touch down and she'd never felt more relieved in her life. She had tried several times to get the door to open during their high but nothing she tried worked, not even a reducto or bombarda.

However, Mafloy and Ron did not look inclined to leave anytime soon. They looked fish eyed and dead, actually as both of them lied their staring out and not saying a word. She sat crossed legged on the floor by the glass wall and waited, hunching over her arms with her leg impatiently going up and down as she glared at the two venomously, knowing that they couldn't see her but hoping that they could still somehow feel it.

"That was really intense." Ron murmured, his voice strangely subdued after all the excitement.

"I know." Malfoy responded sounding hollow as Ron turned his head to him.

"Alright there, Draco?" he asked making Hermione's heart lurch at how familiar it sounded for him to say that after all the years he asked Harry the same thing.

"Fine. Just fine. You know how it goes." he replied, turning over so his back faced him. Ron sighed but his eyes looked haunted.

"Yeah, I do know how it goes."

They sat in silence stewing in their low for sometime when Ron finally spoke again.

"Why did you do it?"

Malfoy didn't stir but by his sudden tenseness, they both knew he was listening.

"Why did you take a whole bottle when you know that at most you should only take half?"

Malfoy shrugged still not answering.

Hermione did not want to be hearing this. She did not want to be there anymore. She knew where Ron would go know, his secret was up, and know that she knew she just wanted to get out. She did not want to see him getting concerned for Malfoy, nor did she want to hear about Malfoy's problem. She did not want to see them having a heart to heart.

"You know, I've told you a lot about myself...about my issues but you never say anything...You've let me go on but you never really talk about yourself, just like Harry."

"Don't compare me to your precious Potter, Weasley! Or I'll kick you out and never let you come back again!" he hissed, turning around suprisingly fast to glare heatedly at Ron.

Ron sprang up from his spot too, his face red and frowning.

"I'm not, but it's true and you know it! And drinking a bottle of potion sounds a lot like you were trying to off yourself so I'm sorry if it bothers me-"

Malfoy sneered as he interrupted Ron, something dark and hateful in his cold grey eyes.

"Bother's you? We're not friends, Weasley! I'm not going to be a substitute for your crumbling friendship with the mudblood and the boy-who-wouldn't-die!"

Ron's lips tightened and his ears turned red as he stood up, his hands clenched and looking just about ready to punch a whole in Malfoy's face.

"Fuck you Malfoy." he hissed spitefully.

"No fuck you Weasley and your damn bothersome feelings!"

"Why can't you just tell me what's going on instead of acting like a damn spoiled little fucking asshole? You git!"

"Because you wouldn't understand Weasley! You think your problems are bad but you haven't even tried to make things better for yourself, instead you just mope around like a useless lard of shit! But I've tried to fix my life and I can't! You have no idea what its been like with the ministry breathing down my neck and my old mates fucking hexing and cursing me at every turn!" He bellowed, a horrible pained look coming across him and twisting his features "You don't get anything so why should I tell you, eh? What possible good would come from it, hmm? Are you suddenly going to make my dark mark go away? Are you going to undo all the horrible things my father and I have done? Huh, Weasley?" he continued to mumble things Hermione couldn't hear but made Ron roll his eyes.

"Then why are you here? Why not run back home to your precious manor and you stupid peacocks?" Ron spat out disgustedly.

"What you think I want to be here, how daft can you be Weasley? I'm only here because its part of my sentence! I have to help fix this sodding shit whole until its done and get cursed and spat at while doing it! It's fucking hell! I'm in fucking hell!" He cried, breathing heavily at the end of his tirade. The two boys stared at each other and did not say a word.

Malfoy looked away first, and in a move so peculiar to Hermione, Ron smiled but its was far from joyous.

"The war really fucked us all, didn't it?" he said as Malfoy's eyes narrowed down at the floor.

"Yeah, yeah it did. Everyone who used to be in Slytherin is now suicidal or on drugs like me." Ron nodded his head in understanding and Hermione couldn't help but marvel at the mysterious working of boys.

"It's the same for us Gryffindor's accept everyone is either in denial like Harry and Hermione, secretly suicidal, or on drugs."

Another wave of anger hit her as she listened to his words. In denial, was she? As if he knew! He couldn't even stand to be around her for longer then two minutes to tell whether she was in denial or not! What right did he have to go and say that when he wasn't even around anymore?

Malfoy snorted unpleasantly, still looking uncomfortable and Ron shifted.

"Who else is on drugs?" Malfoy asked in a deadpanned sort of voice making Ron smile without humor.

"Almost everyone. George is which means you know Lee definitely is. A lot of people that used to be on the Quidditch team, Richie, Cormac and Jimmy. And Lavender started but she says its to help with her lycanthropy..."

"You should invite her next time." Malfoy said with an uncharacteristic wiggling of the eyebrows. Ron smirked but shrugged noncommittally.

"And whose suicidal?" Malfoy asked, his tone marginally softer.

"This boy named Nigel I used to know and Dennis, you know, Colin Creevey's little brother? I think Lavender told me her old room mate Fay hurts herself. She knows cause she can smell her blood sometimes. There are others, I recon, that have had a go of it."

"When I was taken to the hospital wing, half the people in there were on suicide watch. This shit isn't making any of us better." Malfoy hissed as Ron nodded.

Hermione felt shocked. She had never suspected that all this was going on. She should have known, she supposed. It would be a given that the war damaged everyone but to hear all this...She smiled and talked to Fay everyday and been none-the-wiser. She felt sick and horribly selfish. She felt tempted to ask Ron how he knew all this and she did not when he had been just as absent as her.

Then again she could be wrong. Maybe it was only her and Harry he was avoiding. Obviously, this night had taught her that she really didn't know and could not make any assumptions towards Ron anymore.

She stewed in this thought until after a little more pensive silence between the two boys, they finally decided to leave. Hermione practically flew out of the door and out of the dungeons. She felt in a state of complete disarray not only in the revelations that her spying had brought about Ron but about what was happening right in the castle with her none-the-wiser.

While, though her heart pounded and her hands curled to fists, her mind raced with ideas; both her emotions and genius dueling for the forefront of her mind. Should she confront Ron about what she saw and admit to spying on him? Should she tell Headmistress McGonagall about all the drug usage happening in Hogwarts? Should she tell Mrs. Wealsey about her sons?

Who did she go to with such serious and delicate matters?

One thing she did know, she could not let this matter of drugs and suicide continue on any longer. Her main mission here was the betterment of all Hogwarts students and if the psychological damage caused by the war remained hidden behind the layers everyone was building around themselves it would only fester. Thus, this would lead to unhealthy sound individuals procreating and bringing into the wizarding world a generation of children born from damaged parents which in effect would damage them.

Her mind whirled as she pondered the possibilities of a unstable ministry, rudimentary education and a deficit of wizarding Britain. Her preoccupied mind lead her to the library where she stayed drawing up statistics from past wizarding recessions and possible implications of untreated post traumatic stress disorder and depression on the economy. She stayed there all day and all night researching.

She did not sneak into Harry's bed that night.


Days turned to weeks and weeks into months without the fire that sparked that night burning out. In the first two weeks she'd crafted several different ideas she thought would help the situation brewing in Hogwarts. The third, forth and fifth week was spent presenting her ideas to Headmistress McGonagall and refining them to present to the board of educators. Finally after presenting to the board it was a matter of waiting for it to get passed. Now her idea of a one-time mandatory psych exam by a trained mind healer was to go into affect within the week.

The idea was that those who failed the psych exam had to see a counselor every week without fail or face a fine of fifty pounds. Counseling would begin to be offered for those who passed but still wished to partake in the counselling sessions. There was also to be a full drug inspection conducted once a month and those found with drugs would have to appeal to a small ministry counsel unless medically excused.

She'd looked smugly in Ron's direction when all this was announced by McGonagall during dinner one night. She felt quite proud about the new regulations although there was still more she felt could be done.

Her smug smile fell when her the movement of Ginny's hand slipping into Harry's caught her attention. She glanced over from the corner of her eye just in time to see the significant look the couple passed between them and felt a lump tighten in her throat.

Sure her newest quest had proved to work marvelously to separate herself from herself but it always hurt. Looking at them always hurt. She turned away and lowered her eyes to her food. A tension made her body coiled tight and she knew then and there that she would go to Harry's room. She felt anxious for the wee morning hours that would enable her to sneak up to him.

Reluctantly, her eyes peeked up at him. At least he was not staring dreamily at Ginny. He sat staring down at his own plate twirling his fork in his food obviously deep in thought. Even behind his glasses the dark circles of his eyes were noticeable. She felt a pang in her heart that he was not sleeping. Ginny sat next to him staring at him with a concerned frown that he was too deep in thought to notice as her thumb made soothing circles on his arm he'd laid on the table.

Swallowing hard, Hermione raised her head and spoke to an aware Harry for the first time in what felt like a millennium.

"Everything alright there Harry?" She asked, her voice sufficiently startling Harry from his thoughts.

He looked completely thrown that she was speaking to him. Actually, a quick glance around showed that everyone around them, including Ginny and Ron, seemed startled. She felt suddenly defensive at this.

"You looked troubled." she clarified needlessly as she sort of glared at the others.

"Oh, well, I'm fine, Hermione. And you? Are you...alright?" he asked this time startling her.

Her wide eyes shot to meet his green eyes and although she had opened her mouth to speak she felt all the words escaped her as she finally really looked at him. It felt like so long since she'd been able to really look into his eyes and she felt strangely nostalgic gazing at them. She felt like crossing around this table to sit next to him to stare from a closer proximity. She felt suddenly like she wanted to talk to him for hours.

She realized then that she had missed him. She'd missed just speaking to Harry. She missed her best friend.

Her eyes quickly shot to Ron who was looking at both of them with a sort of tight closed off look on his face. She missed him too.

She missed the three of them.

"Hermione?" Her eyes shot back to him and felt her eyes involuntarily water. She could tell him that. She could easily say that she missed her best friends and have a good heart to heart with them. She could try to force the rift between them all to go away.

But the knowledge that they had all changed and there was no going back to how they were before the war made her close her mouth and turn away.

"I'm fine Harry, thanks."

Harry too must have realized this since he did not say anything else. He looked like he wanted to when she sneaked a glance at him but he didn't.

Later that night, as promised, found Hermione bewitching the boys dorm and sneaking in.

Her breath was shallow as she stepped inside and saw him felt with begrudging excitement as she crept closer. It felt quite and peaceful in the room the light from her wand cast the room in a soft glow. Crossing over to his bed she felt more alive, more sound and peaceful then she had in a while.

Yet, at the same time she felt more miserable then ever. Why couldn't she get over this feeling? What was wrong with her?

She felt frustrated. She wanted to bottle up these emotions and cast them out to sea. She wished she could magic them away. Then again, she was so happy to know Harry and if getting rid of these feelings meant never becoming his friend then may god have mercy on her covetous soul.

For the first time, Hermione crawled into his bed and laid herself under his covers. His scent wafted over her and she breathed it in deeply. She reached up a hand traced his scar, running her finger down the bridge of his nose and over his lips.

Something about this familiar face. She knew it well. She'd dimly notice the subtle changes that had come over this face throughout the years. He'd grown to be good looking. More importantly, he grew to be so brave, a savior. He'd defied death two times. He lived.

Merlin, it felt like a blessing that he even lived to be eighteen!

So why...whywhywhywhywhy? Why were they all so miserable?

She abhorred that a moment of Harry's precious life was being wasted on misery. Tracing the circles of his eyes, there was no denying that Harry was not fighting demons. Maybe that was why her feelings just could fade.

She opened his eye lid to find his green eye dulled with sleep, unable to wake and see her due to her charm.

"Open your eyes, Harry. Talk to me. Confide in me. Let me help you." she begged futilely. She let his lid drop and cupped his shoulder shaking him slightly. "Tell me it can be how it was! Bring us back to how we were!"

Silence. Of course there was only silence. There could only ever be silence.

She flopped onto her back beside him and covered her eyes with her arm.

She stayed still like that barely even breathing. She'd really lost it. Everything about her situation right now proved that. She really needed to talk to those counselors. She wasn't entirely sure that she'd pass the psych exam.

She laughed sardonically.


Have you ever been truly lost? Have you felt so consumed by your own horribly empty void created by your own empty heart? Ever felt desperation? Loneliness? On the precipice of breaking? Ever lost something you could never get back and felt the weight of that knowledge weigh you down day in and day out till your left sobbing a weeping mess on the floor? Maybe you've felt unrequited love? Maybe you've felt the coldness that death leaves you with?

Hermione felt that. She felt it all and she felt nothing. She felt like she had to constantly fight herself everyday and at night...She felt the sting of pains like white hot butterflies in her brain. She felt the pain like a skeleton trying to fit beneath her skin even when it was abundantly apparent that it couldn't fit. It was too much.

She acknowledge it. The emotions plummeting in her were too much for her to handle anymore. Would she bring everyone down with her when her heart finally cracked and made a meal for everyone to choke on?

She didn't want that.

But how do you fix it?

She didn't know.


What Hermione did know was that she could only help herself so although she felt nervous and ready to flee, she still marched up to meet the mind healer. The first one to do so, in fact.

The healer did not seem impressed with her name and war credentials. He gazed at her with an interestingly blank professional face over his horned glasses similar to Dumbledore's. His brown eyes gave off nothing as they stared at her. She distracted herself from his face with his clothes. The white and red St. Mungos proved to be a feeble distraction that did nothing to calm her nerves.

"So, before we begin the examination why don't you tell me about yourself, Miss Granger. What have you been thinking about lately? What have you been feeling?"

She felt her lips tighten and her body stiffen as he spoke. The immediate answer would be Harry but could she actually say that allowed. Would reveling her unhealthy obsession with the savior of the wizarding world be smart? Her eyes darted around nervously as she quickly weighed the pros and cons of being honest during this session.

Frantically, she thought that he would probably find out the truth in the exam and if she lied it would only make her see that much more unstable. But then she thought, that it would just be so much easier to lie. She didn't have to be truthful about everything, did she?

However, she did want to do this properly. She knew she needed help and even if she did pass the exam she had planned all along to lead a good example to the students and come regularly anyway.

"Miss. Granger? Tell me about this pause. What is making you hesitate? What are you feeling right now?"

"Panicked. I don't know how to do this. Do I be completely honest throughout? How much detail do I have to give you about my feelings? Do I name each one? Do I have to explain them?" She knew she was rambling. She never used to ramble. It was an unpleasant revelation.

"You can be as open with me as you wish to. There is no right and wrong with this. If you'd like you don't have to answer at all and we can go right onto the examination but its good to start with an introduction. An calm state of mind is best to begin with afterall."

"Then I'd like to talk..." she replied. He smiled, sat back in his chair with the quick quill quo going behind him.

"Then go ahead, Miss Granger."

She gulped before shutting her eyes briefly as she took a deep breath and steeled herself.

"Well, then, to be honest I'm actually nervous because inside I know I should be here." she started, peeking up at the mind healer for his reaction. He watched her with that professional mask on his face.

"And why do you think you should be here?" he asked. She looked away, her mind flashing to the night before and Harry's sleeping face. She would not reveal that yet, she just couldn't. She decided to go with an ambiguous answer.

"I just haven't been feeling right, lately. I'm overly emotional and closed off at the same time." It was true. She felt like every little thing would set a pang in her heart yet she kept her own cool professional facade everyday.

"Okay, and what kind of emotions are you feeling?"

"Anxious, mostly, like if I mess up in front of everyone they might see that I'm...I'm not as perfect as I appear to be. That I...I really don't have everything under control. I mean, a lot of things happened to us during the war and even before it and you don't really think about it while your still in the thick of things, right? And now that its over...well, all there is to do is think about it, isn't it? About what happened."

"And have you communicated with your friends and family what you are feeling and all that you have gone through?"

She stared a little to long at the healer with a look she was sure said he was daft for even asking.

"Why would we talk about it? We were all there during the final battle."

"Yes, but talking about it helps alleviate some of the pain."

"And that's why I'm talking to you, right? Talking about it with Harry and Ron would just be redundant."

"And why do you think it would be redundant Miss. Granger?"

This time she set out purposefully for him to her condescending glance.

"Because they were there with me too."

"Talking is not only just sharing a story but confirming to one another that what they had felt at that moment is normal and it builds bonds and understanding between people. A sense of camaraderie and comfort. I suggest you try speaking to your peers and family again. You might be surprised with the results."

Hermione looked down, carefully folding her hands in her lap as she contemplated his suggestion. She'd tried picturing it, sitting with Harry and Ron alone and hashing it out, all the absolutely absurd things they were put through.

The image hit her wrong. She saw the hard truth that it would not be a warm and fuzzy experience ending in hugs and tears. No, Ron would just be sitting there looking as out of and shut off from everything as he always did, pestering her that this was all stupid and fidgeting in his seat with his need to leave. And Harry, she knew he would just sit there awkwardly, not really meeting her eyes but compliantly sitting there and probably thinking about how soon it would end so he could be reunited with Ginny.

She sighed disappointingly. Had the three of them ever really had a heart to heart? She thought back and tried to think of an instance but even after the incident in the dungeons in there first year and the chamber in the second, they had never talked about what happened. Then third year with...a pang hit her heart as she remembered Sirius and Remus but she pushed it down as she tried to recall.

Yes, there had been a moment when Harry had thought he'd seen his father's patronus. She remembered watching his profile as he talked wistfully about his memory he chose to create his patronus.

And then it swarmed like a latch unleashed; memory after memory of her and Harry sharing small quiet moments. In forth year when they'd been practicing Accio-ing his firebolt and they'd shared a private proud smile when he'd really mastered it and when she'd hugged him and he squeezed her back tightly before he went off to fight the dragon. The happiness she had felt in fifth year when he told her that he did not find her ugly and in sixth when she'd really seen Harry's pride in her when he'd praised her to Professor Slughorn.

Sitting there in the therapists chair she felt a fond pensive smile fall on her face as she remembered. Now that she thought about it there had been plenty of chances for something between them to start, just as much as she had with Ron but...

But she had not then realized the true extent of her feelings then. She had really believed that she was in love with Ron. She would have continued to as well if it hadn't been for the tent.

Her smile slipped and broke into a frown at the mere thought of those intensive hypersensitive weeks.

And then the final battle when she'd thought he'd died.

Her eyes closed and she could feel it coming back in full force, that all consuming horrible sensation that made bile rise in her throat and cut off her air supply.

"Miss Granger," the therapists voice called sounding muddied and far away. "Miss. Granger?" he repeated sounding a little alarmed.

She grit her teeth and a voice that sounded like Harry echoed in her head. Not dead...not dead.

She forced her eyes to open and tried to focus on the soothing voice of the therapist above her.

"Miss. Granger, you must breath. Listen to me, hear my voice. Breath in and breath out." she listened to him, taking deep breaths in an out as the speed of her heart calmed down.

"I'm sorry," she rushed out, her voice sounding odd to her ears, panicky and weak, so completely unlike her authoritative strong voice. "I-I"

"Hermione, might I suggest something," the therapist asked as she straightened up and tried to regain some sense of control in her frazzled state. She nodded her head breathlessly and he smiled kindly down at her. "I would like for you to meet a friend of mind. His name is Healer Lamoureux and he's a specialist of war victim counseling. He's highly respected and will take good care of you. Of course, at this time he's very busy but I can make arrangements for you to meet him every Friday evening's if your alright with it?"

She paused, her hands unconsciously rubbing circles into the palms of her hands.

"Alright," she nodded her head though her lips pressed into a displeased line. "That sounds fine.

She stood feeling a heavy need to escape as the therapist mimicked her, his smile kind as she stared awkwardly at him for a moment.

"Then, that's all right?"

"Yes, an owl will be sent to you to give you a time for your session next week and you'll meet Healer Lamoureux here." She nodded and stepped away toward the door another anxious feeling creepy upon her that she tried to bat down.

"And this will be kept underwraps right? No one will know I'm seeing a different healer then everybody else." she asked with her hand poised over the door knob. He smiled reassuringly at her and nodded.

"Of course, Miss. Granger. There is nothing to worry about. None of the counselors are known to the other participants and its all completely confidential."

"Okay, well thank you." she said politely though she felt anything but.

Not waiting for a response, Hermione swept out of the room, only realizing then how heavily oppressive it felt in there. Taking a deep breath she quickly marched away her usual authoritative air wrapped around her like a cloak.