I got a review from a guest where this person claimed that he/she had dealt with rape and that Hermione wouldn't have tried to kill herself for it. Well, my point writing this plot is that, sometimes, life puts us things and experiences to archive something in particular. Humans are breakable, humans can bend, humans can be destroyed. We aren't able to predict what will happen in the near future. For all we know, today could be our last, but we wouldn't know, would we? Who can say rape can't destroy a person? Who? I'm referring to a fictional character here, given that, I think any other character, fictional or not, is vulnerable. No one is free from this fate and anyone can be a victim. Too many factors involve taking such a rash decision. Are you sure you wouldn't do it? Are you sure you wouldn't take away your own life at some point in your life? Just remember: no one is perfect no matter how hard you try. All we can do is fight…
Until the very end.
Chapter 7
When Hermione met Layha, she realized that the woman was extremely kind. The brunette didn't want to believe it would be only because she saw her abandoned and poor, but felt that maybe, just maybe, that would hardly be the main reason. Layha had a quality that reminded her of her mother so much, so she stopped feeling attacked and her semi-hostile attitude was rapidly evaporating, and started to be a little more like how she really was.
Layha was like a godsend. The lady took care of Hermione the next two weeks she spent in the hospital to which the explorers brought her. Since they were in a rural site, located southwest of Haryana, despite the high number of its population, they still lived in poverty. Almost everyone worked the land. Agriculture was their way of life but the pay was very low, especially at that time of year. Layha chatted with Hermione about all those things and sometimes tried to talk her out about her life but the brunette really didn't answer.
Layha was a nurse. She said she originally lived in Maharashtra, Mombay's capital (formerly Bombay), but since her husband died a few days after getting married, and because their traditions about widows, Layha decided she didn't want to live there anymore, preferring to locate herself in a place closer to New Delhi. Thus she ended up in Haryana. As she couldn't marry again and never had children, she devoted herself to helping others.
Layha never took the subject if she had parents, siblings or other relatives. Hermione wanted to know more but chose not to ask. It seemed that both wanted to forget their past and thought it would be best to leave things as they were. Each one had their secrets, and respect them was the healthiest thing both of them could do.
When Hermione's wounds healed almost completely and her health improved, Layha said that, since Hermione lacked of any documents of the sorts, a mere possible way for her to survive would be to work on cotton plantations whose collection began in late October.
Layha lived within the hospital and the few beds available were for the sick so she told her about the huts in a small village near the plantations. As the nurse was not well paid could not offer much help, but the moral support she gave Hermione was a great comfort.
The cotton fields were the salvation for many, if not most of the families so it was overpopulated in workers and already had enough pickers. Layha managed a way to give Hermione working without documents, and even though she was five months pregnant, the brunette would make a journey of about 10 or 11 hours.
All that mattered was that she'd get paid for it.
However, and no matter what Layha said about sweet dreams coming true or any hopes for the future, there was still the shadow of her sorrows and desires. Amid the fog of her precarious situation, was the spark of light that Layha gave her to not let herself become depressed, or talking about of how she must fight for her baby, that no matter what her past was: that Hermione was young and still had a chance to survive and find a way to raise her new family and that Layha would be there to help her the best she could.
Thus, the brunette began what she thought would be a new life.
This wasn't as Hermione expected. Layha got her the hut she'd promised but needed a way to pay for it. It was a little cabin that reminded her so much to the room she rented in London, with the difference that she had to use a common bathroom –more like a latrine. There she met women whose young kids were not going to school, instead they worked on the collection.
They were large families with little pay each and couldn't always eat. The most they could get was rice, whose production in Haryana was fruitful.
To Hermione, the extensive hours of work were difficult and tiring. Never in her life had she worked, and although she was willing to, she had to admit it was not what she had in mind as a future. However, she found that hard work gave her a peace Hermione hadn't felt in a long time. She didn't feel useless or even unworthy. Her thoughts no longer wandered in her sadness. The girl stopped feeling virtually alone: she now had Layha as a friend. Soon Hermione made her life a peaceful routine.
She got up at four o'clock and walked to the crops for nearly half an hour. On her way there, she could eat fruit and drink water from a nearby well. The collection lasted over 10 hours in which she had paused to eat, but that's only if she had something to get into her mouth. Between 4 and 5 pm -sometimes even until 7pm- finished her routine to return to what she called home.
Some women on the village made food for the community and Hermione went there paying a quarter of rupee (India's currency) for a portion of rice and naan bread, and when she finished eating, Hermione went to her hut and directly to bed, exhausted. She wouldn't wake until the next morning to continue her routine.
The days she didn't work, Layha visited her and taught her how to weave reed baskets by hand. Hermione, in her first attempts got easily splintered, but gradually improved her technique and realized that it served as therapy. Not all baskets were well done, and as the material was not much, she had to undo it and start over.
To pay for her stay in the hut it meant half of her salary, so Layha helped her with food and clothing. The nurse got three decent robes for her and a black scarf, second hand clothes but Hermione willingly accepted them because her belly was swelling more and more each day.
When December came, the air around Hermione turned dense. Layha assured her that it was perfectly normal under her circumstances: the climate change, the holidays and of course, her pregnancy. Hermione had never found her hormones as a rift, but now it was particularly difficult to overcome them.
Christmas was approaching for people who, like her, were accustomed to being surrounded by their loved ones. Hermione realized at once that the first anniversary of her parents' deaths approached...
Unfortunately, starting the second week of December, Layha died. Apparently the old lady had terminal cancer scattered throughout her body. No one knew if the nurse was aware of her condition, but for Hermione it was a huge blow. Since the lady left no will, Layha's few possessions passed to the authorities until they could legally decide what to do with them.
Even then, Hermione did not stop working -she needed the money, but now her routine was heavier than before, and again she was alone, and her only support was herself now.
She would no longer have the sweet words of Layha. There was no light in her way. The nurse had become like a second mother to Hermione and without her support the world was cold and tedious. With the Layha's death, the slight hope that had blossomed, withered.
"Do you reckon it's here?" Ron questioned.
"That's what the villagers said," muttered Harry.
"I'm not so sure... This place is worse than I imagined. Look at the map again."
Harry and Ron, with difficulty, arrived in New Delhi. Because Harry was accustomed to dealing with muggles, he could ask for the settlement between Punjab and Haryana, where Charlie told them that the elusive wizard was living.
To reach the rustic place, Harry and Ron had to board a shuttle bus for the lack of a magical way to get there.
When they arrived Harry bought a map and asking around, located the zone outside near the fields was Chandre Yamun's cabin.
Ron's reluctance was evident. The cabin seemed to be in ruins but it was enormous. It had a shed full of various plants drying in the sun. On one side was a small vegetable garden and, behind the cabin, a barnyard with chickens and goats. What Ron did not accept was the horrendous pair of horns hanging from the door frame, and hanging from the windows sills were symbols that for Hindus were very common.
With that, Harry came to the door and knocked several times but no one answered. Ron suggested that perhaps the old wizard was already dead, but for Harry that couldn't be possible. The cabin did not seem desolate since there were animals in the pen, so he decided to go to the backyard and saw no one.
Harry was already getting anxious. Charlie needed the potions or the dragons would die. As there was no one who could inform them about the old man, Harry and Ron separated to take a look around, but then when they were just a few meters apart, strong cries made the men jump.
"THIEVES! GET OUT OF MY LAND! GET OUT!"
A man of little height and dark skin, bald but with a huge gray beard scampered Ron around threatening him with a plowing peak.
"What the hell, old man?! HARRY!" Ron bellowed.
Harry pulled out his wand and disarmed the angry man. Instantly the old man, visibly surprised, looked at Harry, approached him with a rather quick pace for his age, and half-closed his eyes. Ron thought he would attack his friend and ran towards them, but Harry held up a hand to appease.
"Who are you, boy?" Growled the old man.
"I'm a friend," Harry replied simply.
"I have no friends."
"Are you Chandre Yamun?"
"It depends on who's asking," growled the old man with suspicion.
"I come on behalf of a friend. My name is Harry Potter."
Here, the man opened his crinkled eyes with a look of surprise. "Well, well, well... The famous Harry Potter!" And the old man extended a hand which Harry shook, both in an enthusiastic handshake.
"So, you are Chandre Yamun." Said Harry in a matter-of-fact tone.
"The one and only, my boy, but-"the old man turned to look at Ron, who had his wand at the ready, he lowered it when he saw Chandre would no longer be hostile. "And who are... wait-"the man approached the redhead and analyzed with weary eyes again, "You're a Weasley."
The surprised one was now Ron. Harry shrugged and stood beside his friend. The old man and the redhead shook hands.
"Come on in," the man signaled at them to enter the cabin. "I did not mean to scare you. Would you like a bit of infusion?" Harry and Ron nodded and soon they had before them a couple of cups of steaming apple juice infused with cinnamon and cloves.
The man led them to the huge main room populated with organized large plants and labeled bottles. They sat on some old but large couches while the boys had a view of the place. It made them remind a little of Hagrid's cabin, only that this one was bigger and without the wild animals.
"What brings you here?" Chandre asked the boys taking in their inquisitive eyes to the ceiling that had more symbols like the ones on the windows. Harry took the parchment and handed it to the man and he took it.
"Like I said, we came on behalf of Charlie Weasley, sir. One... of his creatures needs these potions." Harry avoided saying 'dragon' not to frighten the man.
"Creatures? You mean dragons, right?" Harry and Ron looked at each other and nodded. "I have most of this already done, but one of the potions ... I'll have to do it."
"Will it take long?" asked Ron, his tone impatient, for that Harry elbowed him right in the ribs.
Chandre looked at Ron irritably. "Do you have the money to pay for the potions?"
"Of course." Harry said pulling out a brown velvet pouch making noise with the content.
"Well," growled Chandre contentedly, "It'll be ready in five hours."
"But that's a long time!"
"Shut up, Ron!"
"I must say that the normal process takes almost one day and a half," said the man "but being for Harry Potter I have that limit. Take it or leave."
"We'll take it," said Harry before Ron could speak again.
Chandre nodded, drank the rest of his tea and stood up. "I should add that this potion will cost double."
"Very well," said Harry when he saw that Ron was going to protest.
"You'd better go for a walk. I fear that this place is boring."
"A walk? But, there is nothing!" Again, Ron was elbowed by Harry.
"Well, the landscape itself is beautiful. This is why I live here!" said Chandre taking some plants out of one bottle, "it's quiet. Walking past the corral you will encounter a valley where there is a growing field. They are currently collecting and it always relaxes me a little to take a trip there." Here, the man stopped moving and looked wistfully to the back door with his old eyes. "Especially a girl. I have not seen her but from afar, but she is very nice-"The man shook his head. "Anyway, you can't stay here. Come back in five hours and you'll have everything you need."
Chandre led them to the back door and Harry and Ron thanked the man and went walking by where they were told.
"A Girl?" Ron whispered when they were far enough to not be heard. "But he's too old to check out girls! I think that is insane!"
"Yeah..." Harry admitted quietly. "Did you notice that he never pulled out his wand at all?"
"Yeah, it's strange. After all he's a wizard, isn't he?" Ron asked, his tone questioning.
"I don't know, but it's a good thing that, if he has one, he'd have cursed us believing we were thieves."
After a walk of more than twenty minutes, in which both commented and criticized the man and his cabin, they came to the banks of the valley. From this position, Harry and Ron admired the huge plantation under their feet and sat down to look at the large number of people with baskets taking little balls of cotton with their bare hands. Thinking that they'd probably need it, Ron pulled out his Omnioculars, the same as Harry had bought him and Hermione for the Quidditch World Cup game before starting his fourth year at Hogwarts.
Ron was standing and went on to observe, while Harry's gaze wandered farther inside than outside.
"If they weren't muggles, they would use their wands to get it done," said the redhead with a teasing tone, as if what he saw was abnormal, which to him it was. "Just look at them."
"It's not funny, Ron."
"I know it isn't ... but still, it would be easier," answered the redhead offended at what Harry was implying.
It had been almost two hours in which Ron kept criticizing and Harry was tempted to pull out his wand and silence his friend. He said that all of them looked the same in skin and routine, that their clothes were not exactly recommended and a number of follies.
"... and children... How are their parents making them go to work?" Ron made a pause to huff annoyingly. "We should be at home, I'm hungry."
"Ron, we ate a little more than three hours ago."
"But I'm not satisfied. I want the food my mother cooks."
"As soon as the potions are ready, we'll apparate out of here and have dinner at the Burrow."
"But still three hours! What if we go with the people down there? They must have something to eat-"
Ron stopped. He stopped talking and moving. As Harry was lying down and looking up at the sky, he got scared. Harry thought Ron would've fainted from hunger, even though they had a lot of lunch before leaving, but with Ron anything was possible. A little alarmed, Harry sat down and looked at his friend, but the redhead was too still, silent, unmoving.
"Ron….." called Harry, but his friend did not move. "Ron, are you okay?" But Ron remained stoic. Harry stood and approached the redhead. Ron was watching through the omnioculars but it was as if he would've been petrified by an errant spell, however, the boy's breathing was agitated. "Ron, is something wrong? What are you seeing?"
The redhead's hands started shaking holding the Omnioculars and this alarmed Harry. Slowly, so as not to lose focus, Ron moved his face to see Harry. The green-eyed man noticed Ron's features were completely surprised and he was paler than before. He opened his mouth and closed it but said nothing. Again, Ron opened and closed his mouth but seemed unable to say a word.
"What?!" Harry shouted exasperated, to which Ron pointed a finger at the Omnioculars and Harry approached the object to find out what the redhead could not articulate.
While Harry settled to see through Omnioculars, Ron said quietly.
"I think I know which girl Chandre Yamun referred to."
When Harry focused to a specific point, his heart started beating out of control. Suddenly his mind stopped working and he even seemed to have stopped breathing, feeling a painful lump in the throat, his stomach clenched and his gut twisted as he opened his eyes in utter surprise. Now he could understand why Ron looked dumbfounded: a girl kneeling in front of a bush picking small balls of cotton. She had a scarf on her head but her beautiful brown curls and nose were unmistakable.
After so many troubles, after many pleas to the heavens, after the agony in his tortured mind and soul, finally, they had finally found Hermione.
- TO BE CONTINUED -
A / N: First of all, thanks for my wonderful beta, Alex, who is helping me with a lot of things here and I won't get tired of showing her my gratitude for her effort.
I'm doing my best not to jump from the euphoria. It's a shame that I do know what will happen ... AND YOU DON'T! I'MM BAD GURL! MUAHAHAHAHAHA What do you think? Did you like it? please don't forget to leave a review and, most of all, don't forget this: GET READY THE SONG 'FIX YOU', of COLDPLAY IS IMPORTANT!
You may also get some tissues at hand, because... well, I'll let you figure it out.
Stay tuned! :D
