Author's Notes: Thank you for all those who took the time to read and review! I enjoy reading every single one. To the guest who did not leave a name, I understand where you are coming from. After reading so many Fanfictions, it is easy for something like dislike to turn to hate for a character. As it is just as odd to take something like dislike and turn it around to it becoming your favorite characters. Characters like Ron and Snape all depend on perception. What an author can make you feel. And, I am overjoyed you loved my Luna. So, thank you for reviewing Guest.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter World or its characters.
After leaving the colorful waiting room behind, Hermione followed the Healer through a set of doors set to the right of the reception desk. The Healer directed them into different rooms. Harry went with Madame Pomfrey, leaving though yet another door. Hermione watched him go with trepidation. Harry looked back at her; his shoulders slouched as if to protect himself for whatever was to come next. Hermione sent what she hoped was an encouraging smile, though she suspected it came out as a grimace.
Hermione stayed close to McGonagall, and they were led into a room by a nurse. It held an examining bed, one that Hermione had seen in regular hospitals. The rest of the room was covered with cabinet and counter space.
Hermione squirmed onto the bed, rustling the thin white paper spread on the bed. She wrinkled her nose at the regularness of it all. She was a bit underwhelmed with the normalcy of it all. After that toy dinosaur she expected something a bit more, well, shocking.
Hermione's legs swayed over the bed as they waited in silence. McGonagall had seated herself in an empty chair beside the bed. The room had that sterilized smell like a hospital. It made her uncomfortable.
A nurse opened the door, breaking the silence. Hermione thought it was a nurse, what did they call nurses in this world anyway? Healers were doctors, so that made nurses what?
"Hello," The nurse glanced at the clipboard in her hand, "Hermione. I'm going to ask you to remove your clothes so we can take a general health check. Are you wearing underwear and a bra?"
Hermione blushed, wrapping her shirt in her hand.
"Just underwear I'm afraid." McGonagall answered for her. Hermione blushed a brighter red. She had owned a single training bra before it had disappeared with the rest of her clothes. Was she going to be forced to stand in her underwear while someone looked at her? This was going to be incredibly embarrassing! She didn't even want to consider the thought of what she wore being a topic of conversation.
"That's just fine. I'll see if I can transfigure something. I'll be right back." The peppy nurse disappeared, closing the door, the silence entering the room once again. Hermione's eye twitched.
McGonagall smiled encouragingly at her. Hermione gave a strained smiled back, already wanting to go back to Hogwarts. She didn't really care about her health, she trusted Madame Pomfrey. She didn't see the necessity of it. Obviously Harry needed it, he was seriously underfed. But she was perfectly fine after all.
The nurse returned, handing her a plain white bra. The nurse turned her back so she could change. Hermione slid off the bed and completed the task as fast as it was humanly possible. If she was in the laughing mood she would have pointed out how she had a complete outfit in white now. She didn't bother putting the shirt back on, seeing as she had to unrobe anyway. She tugged off her pants, nearly falling over with her bad balance. She kicked off her shoes. She folded the clothes and handed them to McGonagall, who had her hand extended for them.
She glanced at the nurse who had turned back around. The nurse was looking at her oddly; did she have something on her face? Was she not supposed to undress yet?
"Back up on the bed please Hermione." The nurse told her, going back into professional mode. Hermione preferred that to the staring. She struggled back onto the bed, knowing she looked utterly ridiculous. The nurse took a wand from her apron and stepped towards her.
"Alright Hermione, I'm just going to do a couple spells, they won't hurt or anything, I promise. You might feel a tickle here and there." The nurse waited for her to give a jerky nod before waving her wand around her body.
Hermione noted that the woman seemed very confident with the sandy colored piece of wood. She noticed movement beside her, and she shifted to take a look. The nurse had set out large pieces of paper on the counters while she was changing, and she watched in fascination as ink bled onto the page, taking shape in what she recognized as X-rays and pictures of her internal organs. She turned her head to the nurse and back to the paper, trying to figure out the mechanics of it all.
The nurse finished with a twirl of her wand, giving a warm smile to Hermione. "You did great, now I will do a physical examination. If you could stand please."
Hermione stood, moving away from the bed. Her arm covered her belly, feeling exposed. She shivered, it was not cold, but it felt strange to be without her clothes. She never was this naked, it went against everything her parents had told her. They would see the scars. She turned to look at McGonagall, she continued to hold her folded clothes. Maybe she could get them back and they could return to Hogwarts? She didn't need an examination after all. What had she been thinking taking off her clothes! She was disobeying her parents yet again! When they heard about this they would be furious.
The nurse began to look her over, her clipboard floating in midair while a pen wrote by itself. She maneuvered Hermione gently, instructing her to raise her arms or bend her back a certain way. Hermione did as she was instructed. She couldn't do a lot of what was asked of her, and it made her frustrated. Why was she asking her to do things she obviously couldn't achieve? But the instructions went on and on.
After what seemed like an eternity, she was allowed back onto the bed. Hermione felt exhausted, all those ridiculous exercises had wiped her out. She was cold now, having worked up a sweat. What could be next? More pointless tasks? A part of her scolded herself for being such a petulant child. They were adults, they probably had good reasons for this. She had read books about doctors, perhaps she was overreacting.
"Alright Hermione, I just have a few questions for you. I need you to answer them as honestly as you can." The nurse grabbed the floating clipboard, taking the pen in her hand.
Hermione's heart plummeted with those words. She remembered the rules, don't answer questions! Her parents told her almost every day. She had already broken a rule today. She couldn't break another! That was wrong, she would be doing wrong.
"I noticed some burn marks on your arms and legs. Can you tell me where you got those?" The nurse asked softly.
Hermione swallowed the knot in her throat. It took everything she had to speak up. She didn't want to anger McGonagall or the nurse, but she couldn't break another rule.
"I'm not a very good baker." She could hear her high pitched voice give her away. She forced a chuckle. It sounded more like a hiccup to her ears.
"A baker? Oh my. What do you like to bake?" The nurse asked. Hermione stared at her in confusion. She wanted to know what she liked to bake. Hermione racked her brain, what did she like to bake?
"Snow cones!" She muttered, flustered. She instantly blushed at the incredibly stupid answer, gazing at the floor with intense interest. Don't ask me, don't ask me, she thought furiously.
Silence met her ears, and she was grateful that the nurse chose to move on to the other questions rather than point out her blatant lie.
"Ok Hermione, have you ever been to a hospital before this?"
Hermione sighed in relief; at least this was a question she could answer without breaking a rule. "No, I haven't. There was never a reason to go before."
If Hermione had looked up, she would have seen the outraged shock on the nurse's face or the warning look in McGonagall's. But she didn't because she was very interested in the floor, and thinking hard of possible responses to any question the nurse could ask.
"Can you tell me where you got this scar?" The nurse gently pulled her arm away from her stomach. Hermione blinked in surprise at being touched, before looking at what the nurse meant. On her hip, partially covered by her underwear was the single word etched into her skin.
Hermione clapped a hand over the offending mark. She didn't want anyone to see what was written there, her shame for all to see. She had hoped that the nurse wouldn't see it.
"I think I want my clothes back. I don't need a Physical Examination. M- My parents wouldn't approve of this. I think I need to go back to Hogwarts now." She stuttered firmly.
She looked over at McGonagall, keeping a hand on her waist to hide the mark.
"We don't blame any of this on you Hermione. You are safe here, you can answer questions. There are no wrong answers. I won't let anyone hurt you, I promise." McGonagall swore as she rose from her seat, coming to the side of the bed.
"My clothes please, I don't want to be here." Her eyes watered, and she held back her emotions, not wanting to break down here. Hermione knew she really hadn't a choice coming here to begin with, but maybe if she kept demanding they would let her go and forget all about this. She didn't need to be checked up.
She felt sick to her stomach demanding for anything. Demanding was wrong. As was answering questions and letting people see her scars. But she had broken the others so why stop? Her parents would punish her, and then everything would be alright.
"The healers still have a lot of things they want to test, but what if they don't ask any more questions? We will go back to Hogwarts the moment they are done. Is that alright with you Hermione?" McGonagall told her.
Hermione closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath. She could feel the same wave of sadness lap at the edges of her mind. Like a wave crashing at the shore before dragging itself back into the depths of the sea.
Hermione let out a sigh of relief as the strange feeling left her mind completely. She opened her eyes to see two very concerned women watching her. They shared knowing looks with each other, glances that confused Hermione.
"N-no more questions." Hermione tried to stay firm. She knew she didn't stand a chance in leaving. If those shared looks were anything to go by.
McGonagall nodded in assent , and the nurse fiddled with the drawers at the other side of the room.
Hermione didn't realize she was holding her breath until it fled her lungs in a huff. Her body relaxed from its stiff pose. She kept her hand on her hip to cover the mark there, refusing to move it.
"Alright Hermione, we are almost done with this part. Then you can get dressed and the Healer will see you." The nurse informed her. The blonde haired witch had kept her polite and happy attitude throughout the checkup. Hermione perked up at the mention of clothes. She sat still, hoping to end this as soon as possible.
The nurse waved her wand over her once more and Hermione felt the cold trickle of energy along her spine. The time passed quickly, Hermione spent the time wondering if Harry was going through the same thing. How was he faring? Did he have to do the same things she had to do?
The nurse finally announced she was done and let Hermione get dressed back into her clothes. Hermione had never been happier to get dressed in the pristine clothing. The clothes covered everything she didn't like others to see. They just didn't understand. She should have never allowed it to go this far. She hated herself in that moment, drawing the clothes close to her frame.
"All righty then, I will be back with the Healer. He will explain the next procedure with you. Hermione's eyes shot to McGonagall. A procedure?! What did they plan to do to her! Hermione's body began to shake against her will. She did not want to be here, she didn't! Her parents were going to be so mad…
McGonagall looked to calm the panicking girl trembling on the bed. She rose and placed a careful hand on the girl's shoulder. Hermione jerked her head up to look at McGonagall clearly. She didn't expect to be touched.
"Anything that the Healers want to do won't injure you. Why don't you tell me what is bothering you?" McGonagall asked gently.
Should she tell her? Hermione weighed the pros and cons clinically like only a logical mind could do. It could make McGonagall angry. If it was one thing Hermione had noticed, it was the strange reactions of the new adults around her. Why didn't they yell? Why didn't they punish? Hermione did not like what she did not know, what she could not explain.
What she did not know she studied. But Hermione could not study McGonagall within the time it took the Healer to show up. Hermione couldn't just throw her trust to someone she had not studied could she? That was not how the world worked, throwing trust about.
But that hope inside her, the one that whispered to her that she could trust adults. And perhaps, if she told McGonagall what she wanted to know, she could help. She could send the Healer away and they could return Hermione to her parents. Those were logical steps one would take. One conclusion leading to another. In ways that were not confusing and understandable.
Before Hermione's courage could desert her, she blurted out what she thought. "You're making me break the rules! Answering questions, letting these people see my skin! Making me do bad things, lying! I'm breaking the rules, my parents will be upset!" She turned away from McGonagall, cringing and waiting for the blow that was sure to follow from such an outburst.
Hermione waited, her eyes squeezed shut. She didn't want to see it coming. No hand descended upon her, leaving her scared and confused as she waited in darkness. Was McGonagall waiting for her to let her guard down to hit her? Hermione peeked a glance to the left. McGonagall was looking at her calmly, her hand still grasping her shoulder.
"I am not going to hit you Hermione. I won't punish you for telling me what you think. You can always tell me what you feel alright? I will never punish you by hitting you."
Hermione straightened cautiously, her eyes watching intently for a hand twitching to strike. McGonagall tolerated her mistrustful gaze. Hermione didn't really believe her, it wasn't the way of things.
"I know you want to be returned to your parents. You are a smart girl; I know that for a fact. So I need to pick your brain for a moment. When you were at your house, who was in charge?"
Hermione narrowed her eyes at the question. "My father. And my mother." Why was she asking her this? Was this a trick?
"And where are you living now?" McGonagall questioned, her green hat tipping towards her.
"H-Hogwarts." Hermione answered uncertainly, not sure where this was leading.
"So who is in charge at Hogwarts?"
Hermione frowned, her mouth tugging down, considering the question she was being asked. "I would suppose D-Dumbledore, Madame Pomfrey and you."
"That is correct. So, since your parents are not at Hogwarts, who is in charge of you?"
Hermione's eyes widened as she caught the trail of thought. "Dumbledore, Madame Pomfrey and you."
"That means that we make the rules. And it is we who will decide our punishments, should you require it. Our rules will be the ones that matter. If you follow that line of thought, it is my rules you should worry about."
Hermione frowned in concentration. What was McGonagall really trying to tell her? Where she was dictated what rules she should follow? Her parents had once told her to respect others rules when she stayed over at their house. So she should follow McGonagall's rules? She should be honest and tell everyone her thoughts? That didn't seem normal at all. She would have to analyze this new situation late when she was alone.
Hermione nodded her head jerkily. She didn't know what the other rules McGonagall had, so she wouldn't give complete compliance. Hermione had been bred to follow the rules laid out before her. She simply couldn't drop one set of rules for an obscure one. It simply wasn't rational.
"Since I already promised there would be no further questions, perhaps next time will be more successful. No one wants to hurt you Hermione, we just want to help." McGonagall smiled at her, patting her shoulder.
The door opened, revealing a grim faced Dilys Derwent, the nurse trailing behind him. Hermione sunk lower on the bed, trying to make herself invisible. It was laughable, seeing as she was practically displayed on the only bed in the room, but it made Hermione feel better. Was the Healer displeased at her for not answering the nurse's questions?
"I'm so sorry," She blurted, her face flushing red.
Hermione blinked in shock when the Healer jumped, startled at her outburst. He looked at her, surprise in his face,
"Merlin's toes! Didn't expect that, whatever on earth are you sorry for?" He chuckled, waiting for answer curiously.
Hermione swallowed with some difficulty. "I- didn't answer all the questions." The room seemed too small for Hermione, with five people staring at her.
"I see," Dilys said gravelly. "Those questions will have to be answered, but it can wait until another day. Right now I want to talk about something else."
The nurse handed the Healer the pages off the workspace. The Healer reviewed them quickly, holding some up to get a closer look. Hermione could make out some of her bones and tissue. If she wasn't so frightened, she would be very interested in looking at the "X-rays" in the Healer's hand.
The Healer handed the papers back to the nurse, turning back to them with a cheerful smile on his face. "You have completed most of the tests, however before I can create a treatment plan one last procedure is needed."
He caught the look on Hermione's face. "Ah, no need to panic. It really isn't that scary." Dilys waved his wand and summoned a chair. He sat, rolling his chair closer to the bed. He was eye level to her now, his eyes warm and inviting.
"What I want to do had been done hundreds of times, with no lasting side effects. I am a Healer, I can heal a lot of things, including the mind. But I have to know what I'm dealing with before I can help. Professor McGonagall told me you like to read. Would you take a test on something without studying first?"
Hermione shook her head no, her mind still grinding of the bit of information involving "healing the mind." There was nothing wrong with her mind!
"Exactly. So what I want to do is simply see your life like you see it. That's all. I can't change your memories or take them away. You and I will take a potion tasting wonderfully like mangoes. You will begin to feel sleepy, and it will be dark for moment. Then we will both experience parts of your life again. Some of the best and the worst." Dilys leaned back to take in her reaction.
Hermione just sat there. Did Harry already do this? She could imagine his reaction. She hadn't heard any screaming or felt any earthquakes.
"Did Harry..?" She trailed off.
The Healer seemed to know what she was asking. "Yes he did, it took some convincing though."
"Was he angry after?" If Harry was angry after going through with this, it would mean he regretted allowing someone in his head. Hermione knew Harry felt strongly about this issue. Frankly, she was surprised he didn't drag himself out of here, kicking and screaming the entire way.
The Healer hesitated before answering. "He was," he dipped his head, "but not because of the procedure."
Hermione raised her eyes to meet the Healers. She flinched and almost lowered her head again, but she fought against that feeling. "What was he upset about?" She needed to know, to stop the foreboding feeling in her stomach.
The Healer considered the question. "I can't discuss other patients, but he was upset about his past. He will be back to himself before you leave. Have no worries Miss Granger, Harry is alright. Now, what do you say? Shall we proceed? Then we can all get along with our day, and it is such a beautiful day outside after all."
Hermione glanced at McGonagall, who seemed to be waiting for her answer as well as everyone else. Not used to making her own decisions, Hermione just nodded to agree with the adults present.
"Excellent! If you could ready the potion Mrs. Chaffey, we can begin immediately. Please lie back Hermione, there you are."
Hermione leaned back onto the bed, scooting up so her head rested on the slight incline of the bed. She stared at the ceiling, the white square tiles covering her view. She heard the sounds of rustlings and lo whispering.
"Alright," Dilys came into her view, handing her a bottle with peach colored contents. "Once you drink this you'll start to fall asleep. At your ready."
Hermione took a deep breath, feeling a brush of skin against her unoccupied hand. Hermione grasped the fingers, holding McGonagall's hand in her own. She downed the potion before she could second guess the entire situation.
She felt sleepy almost immediately; someone took the glass from her hand as she slumped against the bed. Darkness encroached her senses as she relented to the oncoming rush.
OoOoOoOo
Hermione found herself lying face down in the grass. She groaned, dragging herself up. Where was she? Her head hurt terribly.
"Come on you buck toothed freak! Stay down if you know what is good for you!" Hermione realized she was surrounded by a ring of her classmates. Hermione would recognize that voice anywhere, it was the voice that brought nightmares into her dreams. A brunet girl named Layla. Hermione's throat closed as she remembered where she was.
Layla's eyes were hardened slits just like Hermione remembered them being. "Freak." She hissed at her. Hermione's eyes welled up at the well-remembered word. She was at her old primary school.
Hermione's mouth moved on its own accord, repeating the words she had said once before. "Just leave me alone, I didn't do anything to you!" Hermione could feel the dull pain from the slap she had received just moments just before.
"You know exactly what you did Freak! You and your weird parents, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree." Layla taunted.
"Well at least I have parents!" Hermione shot back, regretting her outburst instantly as she did the first time around. Everyone knew Layla's family was going through a divorce, and sounds of "oooh" traveled through the ring of children, delighted to have entertainment.
Layla lunged at her, knocking her back to the ground. Hermione raised her arms to protect her head as blows came raining down. The sides of her ribs already ached from the punishment she received from her parents earlier that day, Layla unknowingly landed hits on her injured body.
Layla rose, getting a parting kick to her stomach. "You're such a mouse Hermione Granger! Everyone hates you! Do us all a favor and off yourself, no one even cares about you!"
A student called out warning, a teacher had spotted the odd grouping of children. They scattered like the winds, leaving Hermione curled up in the grass. She shivered, the words of the girl sinking into her mind yet again.
OoOoOoOoOo
Hermione found herself seated at the table, a cake and several presents before her. Her mouth split into a smile as she blew out the candle, her parents singing her Happy Birthday. Hermione counted the candles, ten. Her tenth Birthday. Her parents had even tried to decorate, the room held three colorful balloons.
"Happy Birthday sweetie. Almost grown up, ten years old!" Her father laughed, leaning down to plant a kiss on her forehead. Her mother came and wrapped her arms around her, hugging her tight.
"How did we end up with such a smart child?" Her mother grinned, asking her father.
"I don't know, but I would guess it had to do with a lot of luck." Her father replied solemnly, before bursting into laughter. Hermione felt the familiar feelings of love and happiness wash over her. Her parents loved her. She had always felt like this moment was perfect and this just proved it.
"Alright open your presents dear, we made reservations for lunch, so only a small piece of cake now." Her father ruffled her hair, sliding a brightly wrapped present to her.
OoOoOoOoOo
Hermione blinked, taking in her surroundings. She was putting together a waterfall puzzle at the kitchen table. Her heart plummeted, she knew what memory she was in. She really really didn't want anyone watching her right now.
A door slammed, shaking the entire house. Heavy stomps came from her parent's bedroom. Her father slammed his fist on the table, shattering the half-finished puzzle. Puzzle pieces flew everywhere, some landing on the floor.
Hermione shrunk into her seat, watching her father as he tried to formulate words. Once he did however, he had no problem voicing them.
"I just got a call from your teachers. They are asking questions Hermione! QUESTIONS! I told you how I felt about questions! Wait until your mother hears about this! What did they ask you? ANSWER ME or I swear to God Hermione, I will spank you to kingdom come!" Her father's face was an angry red. He waved his hands as he yelled at her.
"I didn't tell them anything, I swear I didn't!" Hermione whispered feebly, wishing herself to disappear.
Her father only became angrier. "You're lying, you stupid idiot! When I ask you a question, you answer me truthfully!" He growled, dragging her out of the chair, shaking her until her teeth rattled.
"What did they did they ask you?" he asked roughly.
"They didn't ask anything! I didn't say anything, I promise!" Hermione sobbed, trying to free herself from his grip.
"STOP LYING!" He roared, throwing her across the room. Hermione's head hit the wall, and her arm landed underneath her, something snapping there.
Hermione howled, the unmistakable pain rushing to her arm.
"Stop crying! This is your fault, you lied!" Her father looked ill at ease staring at the oddly bent appendage.
"Stop crying right now! You brought this on yourself." He told her sternly, stomping out of the room.
OoOoOoOo
Hermione straightened, walking alongside her mother. She didn't want to do this anymore, she wanted to wake up. Could she wake up, or would this go on forever? But this was a good memory right? That was the pattern so far, bad good bad good? So this had to be good? Hermione didn't remember this memory though. She looked around, they were walking into a gas station.
The entered the small convenient store. It looked like any ordinary convenient shop, and Hermione racked her brain for the memory of this. Obviously she had to know or she wouldn't be re-experiencing it. But she just couldn't place it. She waited as her mother paid for gas, waiting behind a couple of people in line.
Her mother paid for gas, and they went to move towards the door, but the cashier stopped them. He held something in his hand, offering it down to her. "For such a beautiful little girl." The middle aged man grinned at her, urging her to take it.
Hermione accepted the object with a blush. She looked down at the object, a chocolate bar.
Her mother moved to pay, but the man waved them off. "Free of charge, you take care now alright?" Hermione nodded, "Thank you." She waved as they left.
OoOoOoOo
Hermione sat off to the back in an armchair. The thing dwarfed her, and several other kids hung and lay over the mammoth chair. They all giggled as they watched the clown who was desperately keep their attention.
Hermione turned her attention to the girl lying across her lap without a care in the world. "Want to open my present now." Hermione whispered to friend.
Her friend nodded, not hiding her glee very well. They slinked off the armchair, sneaking into the kitchen. The table was laden with presents, but Hermione had no problem identifying the one she wrapped. She plucked it off the table, presenting it to her friend. "I love the wrapping, ladybugs are the best!" Layla gushed, shaking the package. Hermione smiled with pride.
"I wrapped it myself, my dad let me use kitchen scissors."
"Let's unwrap it in the tree house, come on!" Layla grabbed her wrist and dragged her along. In moments they were out in the sunshine and climbing the ladder to her friend's small tree house. But they were small girls, so they fit perfectly with room to spare.
Layla ripped open to wrapping, gasping in delight at the contents. "How did you know?!" she squealed, hugging her best friend. She held up a necklace and matching earrings.
"My mom and I are going to get my ears pierced as soon as the party is over, but you didn't know that… You're the best Hermione." Layla said with real affection.
"Happy sixth birthday Layla," Hermione laughed.
Layla put on the necklace, the simple but pretty necklace sparkling on her neck. "I'll save the earrings for later." Layla told her.
Hermione rolled her eyes, of course she would have to wait; her ears weren't pierced yet! "Come on, let's get back to your party."
Layla nodded, swinging across to the ladder. She went to grab the rope as she tripped over a crooked board. They weren't even supposed to be up here, with all the rusty nails and broken boards. Hermione watched in horror as she fell past the opening, already starting her decent to the ground.
The most horrible scream Hermione heard in her life rented the air. Hermione threw herself forward, her hands grasping at air. Desperation flooded her as she feared for her friend. It was such a long drop down. Layla screamed, halfway to the ground.
A tingling rushed through Hermione, fleeing from her fingertips and flowing around her falling friend. Blue mist surround Layla, slowing her decent until she hovered midair, a foot from the ground.
The blue mist deposited Layla on the ground, slowly retreating back to Hermione. Hermione saw Layla look up her, watching the mist disappear when it reached her fingertips.
Layla rose from the ground, dusting herself off before fleeing from her. "Layla wait!" Hermione cried out, descending the ladder as fast as she could.
She raced inside, finding Layla talking with her parents. Foreboding filled Hermione, knowing nothing good would come from this.
Hermione grabbed Layla's arm, dragging her friend away from her parents, ignoring their shocked looks. "Stay away from me," Layla hissed. "I don't know what that was, but that was weird! I'm telling my parents!"
"No!" Hermione burst, "don't tell your parents, I don't know what that was either! I didn't have anything to do with it, I don' know what that was."
"No! I'm telling them!" Layla wrenched her arm away. "Freak!"
Hermione felt the crushing sadness and fear at her words.
OoOoOoOo
Hermione awoke, tears streaming down her face. Her body convulsed, trying to expel the fear and darkness from her. She felt a hand on her back, she flinched in fear, the memories still fresh in her mind. She curled up into a ball, sobs wracking her body. It was her fault after all, memories couldn't lie. She was a freak. She cried out her pain, not hearing the Healer telling the others to let her be.
It took a half hour until she felt in control enough to go into the waiting room. She sat on the floor next to Harry, who was staring out into the distance at nothing. She didn't feel like exploring at all, she just wanted to sit beside Harry and think about nothing. But even her mind was a traitor, forcing to think about what she relived.
Before she could get lost in her thoughts, Harry shifted, placing his hand on his thigh, palm facing upwards. Hermione took that a sign and put her hand in his. Harry squeezed it lightly, like he was trying to tell her he wasn't completely gone. Hermione relaxed and joined him in staring at nothingness.
After a good amount of time, McGonagall and Madame Pomfrey came into the waiting room and helped them both up. Hermione stayed close to Harry, who seemed more shell shocked than her. They made appointments for next week, Hermione listened with halfhearted interest. Her head felt stuffed with cotton.
They left the way they came, the swirling fireplace making her dizzy and confused. She skidded across the floor like the first time, being caught by Madame Pomfrey. She waited for Harry to come through before allowing herself to be led to her bed. She collapsed on the bed, her limbs still trembling like she fought for her life. She gave in to sleep, praying they wouldn't be like her memories.
