When Was The Last Time You?
Chapter Fifty Three: When Was The Last Time You Punished?
A Tale By: In The Shadows I Dwell
"Men are not punished for their sins, but by them."
These days, I spent a rather large amount of time staring out into the distance from the window of my bedroom. I often wondered, not only about Harry and Ron but about everyone else in the world. How this war was affecting them, often my thoughts concerned Luna. Where was she? How was she? Was she even still alive? I could not help but think of the world in a general context, how did everyone else cope with so much darkness, with so little hope? It seemed so easy to sit and stare upon the world from my sanctuary, safe within the castle in a room impenetrable from forces I did not wish to be found by. It seemed so easy to question life itself when I was one of the lucky few with such protection. It was difficult to remember that you were some of the very few who were so privileged, not many would be able to effectively protect themselves against the forces gathering against them. Yet, at times I wondered why I even bothered to prolong it. Why I could sit and look upon the world knowing that I could not evade capture for eternity.
I would either be caught, or spend the remainder of my time upon this earth of the run if Harry and Ron were unsuccessful. Neither were particularly pleasant thoughts, and to me, it seemed as though both in were in their own individual ways forms of imprisonment. Did I wish to spend the remainder of my life cowering in fear? Did I even wish to hide any longer? There were the possibilities I could consider and the possibilities which I could not. The problem was sorting those which I considered more closely from those which I would never consider. It seemed as though my life was a maze, and it consisted entirely of forked roads, each leading along a different path in an entirely different direction from the other. How did one make the choice upon which road to take? Was it more simple than I made it seem? I drew my knees closely to my chest, hugging them within my arms for warmth as I glanced down upon the lake, its dark surface undisturbed, completely smooth.
Life in the outside world seemed so much easier, so much more simplistic than life locked within the castle and its stone walls. Almost as though they too, were beginning to become a prison all of their own. The bitter chill in the air had vanished, replaced by the earlier spring warmth I was so accustomed to. However it was not as I remembered it, it too had a bitterness to it that I could not remember ever feeling, as though it too were tainted by the darkness in our world. It seemed as though slowly piece by piece the world around me continued to crumble, and part of me knew it would not be long before the resistance crumbled completely, too overwhelmed by those whom they were fighting against to be able to stand against them any longer. Part of me yearned for the war to end one night while I slept, so that I may wake up to a peaceful world, which may never be the same but nevertheless peaceful. Was it too much to ask for? Too much to want? Was it unrealistic to wish for peace? I sighed to myself as these thoughts passed through my mind, was I being selfish in wishing for these things, these mere dreams, that perhaps I would feel the warmth of the sun once again before I died?
I glanced upon the floor of my bedroom, littered with parchment, quills and an assortment of clothing I had not found the time to sort through yet. I carefully pried my body from the windowsill and began to pick up the pieces which were scattered across my floor. I came across several of the letters I had received from Ron in the past two weeks, both of which remained sealed and unopened. I still had not found the will nor the desire to open them. I found my eyes glancing upon their unopened surfaces, the wax seals glaring at me from my place upon the windowsill. I rarely found myself wondering what was actually contained within them. What they would reveal if I opened them. For a brief moment I considered giving them to Ginny, perhaps the letter clearly addressed to me by Harry would have been better in her possession. But these letters I could tell, where not for her eyes, they were for mine and I knew that they would do no good within her hands, in fact it was more likely to harm her. I could still remember her collapsing at the foot of the stairs to the castle, so overwhelmed by her fears that she could not remain conscious. I had my doubts about how she continued to cope, there were times where not everyone seemed able to cope, however she remained strong. I did not wish to disturb this; well that is what I told myself anyway.
I told myself many things days, and as much as I tried to be truthful there were always the thoughts that slipped through. I told myself that I did not wish to disturb the peace, however this was more associated with the fact that I did not wish to part with the letters. Part of me, however, selfishly did not wish to give away these items I had been given. However much I wished to be angry at them for even contemplating writing to me, I felt something within me that yearned to hear from my friends, something that yearned for the past to return. Something, that I could not describe, something that only wanted to fall asleep and awake in the past in my dorm room, Lavender and Parvarti sleeping soundly, the sounds of their snores seeming as though they were surrounding me. Part of me wanted to awake in the past free of the knowledge of magic, only the thought of having to be the school freak once again standing before me. At times I could not believe that I wished these things, but I did and I could not help it. I doubted that a single person in my situation would not wish for such things.
There was a knock at my door, "Hermione?" Draco's voice called softly through the opening door.
I glanced up from the unopened letters, allowing them to fall from my hands and onto the floor once again. "Yes." I replied.
"The plans for the ball have been approved." He whispered walking inside. "I just received an owl informing me of the date. I have my doubts that Snape is within the castle at the present time."
"I don't think he spends any time within the castle these days." I whispered. "I'd be willing to bet anything that his office is covered in dust again, the cobwebs extending further across the bookshelves than the last time we were within that office. You know, I believe the only times at which he is present nowadays is when he has to meet with us or the Board of Governors. They're the only two times that his absence would be noticed." I paused, carefully pushing the letters underneath my bed. "When is the ball to be held?" I asked.
"In exactly four weeks." He replied. "What is all this?" He asked gesturing at the mess upon the floor.
"It's an array of items that I merely have not had the time to put away or found homes for yet." I replied noticing another letter at Draco's feet, I could not tear my eyes away from the place in which it lay, it seemed to signal like a bright beacon to my eyes, almost as though it were alight at his feet his eyes fell upon it.
"Hermione, when did you receive this?" He asked gathering it within his hands. "Is that Ron's writing?" He asked noticing the familiar scrawl upon the envelope, one he would easily recognise from the previous letters which I had received.
"It is, I haven't opened it. I haven't opened any of them. I've been receiving them for over a week. I just don't know whether I wish to open them." I said grabbing them and placing them in a neat pile upon my desk, as though I preferred just to look at them rather than open them.
"Open them." Draco said softly passing the letter within his hands to me. "They might be important."
"What if they aren't?" I replied. "What their just pointless, what if I don't deserve to read them? What if these letters are forgiveness? I'm no longer worthy of that. It is my fault, I had the option to follow them and I rejected it. I was rude and selfish, I don't deserve their forgiveness, I don't even want to open the letters for fear of it. I don't wish to be forgiven for what I have done."
"Why do you continue to punish yourself?" He asked placing his arms around my waist from behind. "Why?"
"Because, I feel as though I must for without the desire to punish another for my actions I am open to the truth and the truth is the only thing that can set me free of this guilt. I have to accept the fact that I caused this. That is my fault and my fault alone. I need time to think about this, what I'm going to do – if I decide to do anything at all."
"That's ridiculous." He replied. "You have to open them. What if something has happened? What if it is important and you need to speak with them. Don't pretend, I've noticed that you don't go past any fireplaces anymore; I've noticed you spend your entire time locked away in your room or mine for that matter. I'm not sure if you've noticed but there is not a fireplace within either of those rooms. You avoid the Gryffindor common room like it's the plague and you would never guess that you were actually avoiding something."
"I just can't now. Alright?" I said breaking his arms open and walking to the door. "Please, I just need to forget it for just a while."
"That's only going to make it more difficult." He replied.
"I know, but for once, once in my life I just want everything to work out right and as hard as I try it still doesn't and it seems as though the only way which I can even stand to look at myself in the mirror these days is if I accept that this is my fault."
"You can't continue to punish yourself for eternity."
"I'll know when to stop." I replied grabbing my cloak. "Come on we have go on patrol now."
"Really?" He asked snapping to life suddenly.
The loud bells rang across the grounds as darkness fell completely. "Exactly time."
"Perhaps you will have the chance to punish some others for their crimes while you wage war against the wrongdoers of society." Draco said laughing.
"This isn't a joke." I replied taking the topmost letter in my hand and ripping it in two throwing the pieces at his feet.
"What did you do that for?" He asked, looking rather torn, confronted with two options – To scream at me for doing what I had, or to stop me from tearing the other letters in two also. He bent over and picked up the pieces I had thrown at his feet reading the piece in his hand, quickly he snatched the other piece from the ground and in a grave voice he said "Hermione, you better open those other letters they're in trouble." And for the first time, the realisation of my true guilt hit me like a ton of bricks.
Dedicated To: My minion, who at times endures quite a large amount of insanity; however there really is no other I can be so insane with without fear of judgment! Thanks for all the fun times.
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Author's Note: My luck is horrific! Just as I was about to hit submit on this chapter our power went out and took out my modem! So I apologise for the delay – again. It's getting rather tiresome I know, however I will make a conserved effort to avoid black cats and ladders this week! That's what I'd like to put my luck down to. I cannot believe the response to this story so thanks again for all the love!
Song: Hey, Soul Sister – Train.
