A/N: For everyone still reading, thanks for sticking with this. I know this is much slower and more character/story building than the previous story. There will be some action soon! Biggest thanks to Branmacmorn and Only Harmony for the review and feedback!

Chapter 5: Chrysalis

Sunday April 5, 1998

Sunday morning, Hermione was once again up before Harry. This didn't surprise her, but she was confused when she didn't find Gerty busy in the kitchen. Happy to make her own tea she found it had already been set up for her. The house elf had been up and out of the house already. It made her happy that Gerty felt she had the autonomy to do so.

Walking into the dining room, she settled in her customary spot at the table, surrounded by her books. The proctored N.E.W.T.s started on Wednesday. She had a twinge of regret insisting on sitting for the exams. It seemed like the right choice at the time. An opportunity to return to the familiar routine of studying while stalling other people's demands of her. Now that she had a better sense of herself and what she wanted, the tests seemed like an inconvenience. And yet, if she cancelled, she knew she would feel like she disappointed her professors and would herself ultimately regret not taking them. It wasn't a good reason to move forward with two weeks of testing. It wasn't a terrible reason either.

Proof of that was that she was looking forward to her transfigurations study session that afternoon with her former head of house. Maybe she could put on hold her quest for a mythical river, international goodwill, and time traveling investigations for two more weeks. The last point still nagged at her. There was something about Bellatrix's involvement that made her question that the situation was truly over. And yet she had no evidence and it wasn't her job either.

Scratching at the window pulled her attention away from her thoughts. An owl was attempting to enter. She opened the latch and let the glass swing out. The tawny owl offered her leg and took off immediately after it's task of delivery was complete. Apparently a response wasn't required for whatever the letter was meant to convey. Watching the owl shrink into the distance she thought they needed to get their own owl. The loss of Hedwig was still a raw wound for Harry. It was up to him to decide when it was time.

Her name was embossed on the front of the envelope with golden calligraphy. On the back was the seal of the Minister for Magic's office. She suspected she knew what the letter was about.

"What's that?" Harry asked, coming up from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing the nape of her neck.

Turning it over in her hands again, she showed him both sides. "It's from Kingsley's office. I think it's about my meeting with Draco."

With that Harry tensed, yet he didn't speak.

"You can say what you feel," she told him, turning in his arms to face him. She sat on the window ledge, ran her free hand down his arm until their fingers met. They intertwined.

"You don't owe Draco anything and I think meeting with him before you've processed everything will just set you back," he said.

"Set me back. Have I made progress?" They both knew it was rhetorical. "The truth is I have questions for him."

This surprised Harry. "About Voldemort?"

She shook her head. "About Tom. And Bellatrix." Taking a breath, she broke the wax seal and unfolded the letter. Harry gave her some space to get coffee.

Miss Hermione Granger. Per your discussion with the Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, the following dates and places are proposed for court-permitted meeting with Draco Lucius Malfoy. Please check the date, time, and place that suits your schedule. Your response will be recorded once you place your signature at the bottom of this missive. No further action will be required and Mister Malfoy will be notified.

Sincerely, Myrtle Graham
Executive Secretary, Office of the Minister for Magic

Hermione scanned the options. There were a variety to choose from. It seemed they wanted to give her the ability to get it over with or spend some weeks preparing.

Harry reentered the dining room, coffee in one hand, the Daily Prophet in the other. "Where's Gerty?"

The house elf apparated to his side, "Here, Master Harry. Gerty is sorry she wasn't here when you got up. I made sure your tea, coffee, and paper were ready though."

"It's fine Gerty," Hermione said, casting a warning at Harry.

He opened his hands wide. He wasn't sure why she was lecturing him with her eyes. He just asked a question. "Yeah, I was just worried. I got my paper and coffee though… still hot," he said, lifting the cup to his mouth.

The house elf snapped her fingers and a catalog appeared on the table. "Gerty heard you both talking last night about moving and I wanted to help you. Unless Master Hermione won't need Gerty anymore?"

"What? No. Gerty, we love having you here. But if you want to leave…" Hermione trailed off awkwardly. Tears welled up in the large eyes of the small creature. "We just decided yesterday. We were going to talk to you about it."

"I didn't know if you just wanted my help here. If you want Gerty to stay and keep this house, Gerty will," she said, clearly not thrilled with that scenario.

Hermione knelt down. "We want you to help us move. We want you to help us pick out furniture. We want you to come with us to Godric's Hollow," she said, casting a glance at her boyfriend.

Harry mouthed the word furniture, clearly uncertain about trusting Gerty to pick out appropriate furnishing, but caught another warning look. "Yeah. We'll take a look at the catalog here after breakfast and talk about what we need?"

"Oh! Gerty will make breakfast then," she announced excitedly.

"We're going to pick out the furniture though, right?" he asked when she sat down across from him.

"Definitely," she answered, knowing Gerty had eccentric tastes. Grabbing a quill from her study materials she looked over the dates. Deciding she was in the, let's get this over with camp, she checked Monday afternoon. It would have several benefits. It would keep her from over-studying and it would ensure her thoughts wouldn't be preoccupied when she took her exams. Her counseling appointment happened to be later that afternoon as well. In case she needed to process with someone, it would be nice to have an objective perspective. The location didn't much matter to her, she picked a random meeting room in the Ministry. With that decided, she signed her name and watched the ink pulse as it was transmitted back to the Minister's office.

When she looked up, Harry tried to quickly look back at the paper. He didn't want to appear overbearing. "What's an orphic eggshell?" he asked, hoping she would go along with the change in subject.

"It's a powerful and very rare potion ingredient. It's from a winged creature found only in the Mediterranean. Why?"

"Someone stole one from Newt," he explained, sliding her the crime section of the paper.

Studying the moving image of her old friend, she worried about him. "We should invite him over."

"Maybe to Godric's Hollow?" Harry offered with some excitement. Having the house seemed to be really settling in for him.

"I think that would be a brilliant idea. I've been wanting to meet Tina."

With that thought, Harry discarded the rest of the paper and started flipping through the catalog Gerty left for them.

Hermione stood up and looked over his shoulder. The discussion they had was mundane, domestic and something both of them desperately enjoyed. Even Gerty was helpful, providing dimensions, which she took that morning of every room in the house, as they navigated the process of ordering and delivery. Once all decisions were made, they were both surprised it was nearly lunch time.

"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed, looking at the clock and then down at her lounge pants. "Professor McGonagall is going to be here any minute. I need to change."

Harry watched her race out of the room at the same time the front doorbell rang. When Gerty didn't scream her way down the hallway, he guessed the house elf was already out placing orders and arranging apparition services. He stood and opened the door.

"Mister Potter!" Minerva exclaimed, giving him an affectionate hug. Once she released him, she gave him a once over. "You're staying safe?"

"Yeah, Tonks is a good partner," he said and led her into the old musty place. "Hermione is running a little late, we got distracted this morning. If you want to get set up in the upstairs study?"

The pair walked through the hallway and up the first flight of stairs. He helped her rearrange the room, then sat on a chair near the exit. "Can I get anything for you?"

"No. Thanks," she answered tersely.

"Do you think she's ready?" he asked, even he wasn't quite sure he was asking about a transfiguration exam.

Looking over her glasses, she gave him a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Do you?"

"For her N.E.W.T.s, yeah. For what comes next?" he thought. "I do. But I don't think she knows that."

With that insight left hanging, he excused himself.

Minerva was left to consider the assessment. She knew better than most what Hermione was dealing with, having seen first hand what Voldemort did to her in 1967. Helping the broken girl was an experience she never forgot, well once she had the memories they weren't forgotten. Even thirty years later, it would creep into her nightmares.

"I'm so sorry, Professor. I was distracted this morning," Hermione said as she rushed into the study area, her arms laden with books and parchment. "We're moving," she blurted out excitedly.

"Is that right? Somewhere else in London," McGonagall asked.

Hermione shook her head. "I got permission to fix Lily and James's cottage in Godric's Hollow. The Minister transferred ownership back to Harry. We were… er… well we were shopping this morning. We have so much to buy."

Smiling despite the darker thoughts running through Minerva's head, she was genuinely pleased the pair were getting out of 12 Grimmauld Place, and even more pleased that they would breathe new life and promise to the house of Harry's childhood. "I think under the circumstances, I can overlook the tardiness." Waving her wand at the blackboard, she nodded at the writing. "If you're ready, we'll start with the theory behind human vanishment. You of course know human transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous transfiguration spells to cast successfully. We covered vanishment in your fifth year, but if you'll remember, I warned not to use vanishment or disillusionment on humans without extensive practice. This is why…"

Minerva settled into the lesson. Using the time to pass on information relevant to the N.E.W.T.s as well as skills she wanted to ensure Hermione had mastered for her own safety. The immediate threat may have been defeated when Voldemort fell, but Hermione and Harry were both in the spotlight. Once the wizarding world had time to recover and rebuild, pureblood sentiment would still be present. Prejudices could be more insidious than blatant bigotry. It was Minerva's fear that while Hermione would be heralded a hero by most, she could also be a target of scorn.

"In short, these skills may not be as flashy as the offensive spells you've learned in your DADA classes, but I think you'll find that a witch skilled in the art of transfiguration has many unexpected tools at her disposal," Minerva said pointedly.

Hermione sensed the close of the lecture wasn't necessarily meant for preparations for her exams. She set her quill down. "Professor, your words are taken to heart. I know that just because Voldemort is gone, that doesn't mean evil is gone. Still, you don't have to worry about me."

"Miss Granger, even though you're not a student at Hogwarts, you'll always be a Gryffindor and as such, I will always worry about you. Now, let's turn our attention to possible practical exercises."

~~/~~

Monday, April 6, 1998

Hermione was early. She needed time to get comfortable in the room and think about her questions. The room overlooked a greenspace in the middle of the Ministry building. She opened the window to get some air. Several people were eating late lunches on benches. Others looked like they were holding informal meetings. She heard a pair talking about their missing primordial waters, another dictating a message to a quill, and a wizard arguing with a bowtruckle in a nearby tree.

It was a stark contrast to the stuffy, formal setting of the meeting room. The room was clearly designed to fulfill multiple formats. An area was set up near the fireplace offering comfortable chairs. It reminded her too much of her time in Albus' library and she wasn't sure she was comfortable with such an intimate setting. The sterile setting of a boardroom table seemed a better option. It would give her a physical object between herself and Draco and it would impose an atmosphere of professionalism.

She set her things down at the corner of the table that gave her the quickest access to the exit, but didn't sit. Sitting would force her to put her back to the door. She was too self conscious to allow for that vulnerability right at the start. A knock at the door told her she wouldn't be standing long.

The large double doors creaked open slowly. "In here, Mister Malfoy," Kingsley said.

Hermione watched the blond boy enter. His head hung low. Clothes hanging loosely on his frame due to apparent weight loss. He seemed thoroughly downtrodden.

The Minister looked at Hermione. "My court clerk will be right outside if you need anything. Take as much or as little time as you need."

With that, the doors closed. Draco hesitated before his feet shuffled. She motioned to the chair across from her. When they were both settled, she looked at him expectantly, not inclined to make him comfortable.

"Thanks for agreeing to meet with me," Draco finally said.

"I was surprised you wanted to, honestly."

"I wanted to apologize."

"About what?" she asked pointedly.

At the challenge, he finally lifted his head, squared his shoulders. "Using the unforgivable curse on you. Taking you to the Dark Lord."

"Not suggesting to Tom Riddle that he should pick me to be taken back in time. Pick me to torture, mutilate, and try to control?" With each word her volume increased. She didn't realize how loud she was until a nervous looking witch poked her head into the room. "It's fine. Sorry. We're fine."

After catching a warning glare, Draco nodded and sat back in his chair once they were alone again. "This was a mistake."

"This meeting wasn't the mistake, Draco. The mistake was becoming a Death Eater. The mistake was thinking there wouldn't be any consequences."

"Consequences! My dad, my whole family, were enslaved. You don't understand, Granger. You don't understand what it was like when he returned."

"Explain it then. Explain how terrible it was. So terrible that you were willing to help Tom Riddle in the past become even more terrible?"

"He was going to kill my mother and father if I didn't help him."

Hermione closed her eyes.

Draco sighed. "I didn't come here to make excuses. You're just so…"

"Obstinate?" Hermione supplied.

"Brave." His admission seemed to catch them both by surprise. "Not everyone can be like you. Willing to just sacrifice everything. I'm not like you."

"Listen, I agreed to meet because I have questions. I understood you would likely be seeking absolution. I can't give you that. I can tell you what you want to hear, but I don't think that will ease your conscience. That fact actually makes me think you're not a lost cause."

His eyes narrowed and his brows furrowed in confusion. "What are your questions?"

She took her wand out.

He swallowed hard and pushed back. To his credit, his hand never went for his own wand.

Waving her wand, she summoned a glass of water from a service cart near the door. She looked at him questioningly. When he nodded, she summoned him a glass. "How did you communicate with Tom?"

He took a long pull from the glass. "I was using the Room of Requirement that entire year. There was a vanishing cabinet that was connected to a twin at Borgin and Burkes. The one at Hogwarts needed to be repaired and it needed to be done in secret. I spent a lot of time in that room. Sometimes I'd just spend the night there. There was a cot. Next to it a table with some curious items. A box that wouldn't open. A vial with a potion that made you feel euphoric. A stack of parchment. The parchment was blank until one day it wasn't. It referenced a book in the Slytherin common room. It took a bit of searching to find it. It took another bit of work to figure out how to use it, eventually it told me how to ask the Room of Requirement for the room Tom had created. He'd leave messages for me. I didn't know who I was communicating with until the Christmas holiday. Voldemort told me it was him. In the past. Told me I needed to help him. That I needed to pick someone close to Potter."

"Why me?"

"Honestly. I didn't think much of you back then. You were just a—"

"—mudblood?"

The word caused him to wince as if it caused physical pain. "I don't think that anymore. But yes. Then, I thought if it all went wrong, you were just a… muggle born. I considered Ron or Ginny, but my mom was always going on about the sacred twenty-eight and how important the pureblood families would be once the Dark Lord rose to power. Even if they were blood traitors, they were still pure." He put his hands up, as if to defend himself from the judgment. "This is how I was raised. I'm learning, I'm trying to learn. I swear I didn't know what he was planning."

"Until you did know. Until I ended up in the hospital wing, you still couriered messages for him. Told the Death Eaters about the Order's headquarters."

"I didn't see a way out. My parents were trapped in that house. I took the dark mark."

"And the day you took me, what did you think was going to happen?"

"I don't know. He was obsessed with you. My mother sent me an owl the day you didn't come back. Voldemort demanded I bring you to him the minute you reappeared. Told me Snape would help, he made an unbreakable vow with her."

"And when you cursed me? You didn't seem very sorry that day."

"You're right. I didn't. I deserve whatever punishment they give me. For what it's worth, I'm sorry now and not because I'm facing the consequences. I'm sorry I hurt you. I'm sorry for my part in Voldemort hurting you."

She started to brush it off, but she sensed he was sincere. "I believe you Draco. You can prove it by showing me you mean it. Show us all you're different now." They both sat in contemplation. Hermione studied the scars on her forearm. "Did your aunt have a time turner?"

The change in subject seemed sudden. Draco searched his memory. "I don't think so. I didn't really know her, she was in Azkaban most of my life. I remember she was obsessed with time travel. I assumed that was because Voldemort was desperate to find you. There was a prophecy that made her paranoid."

She leaned forward. "The prophecy about Harry?"

He shook his head. "No. One about her. She found it that same night they tried to get the other prophecy from the department of mysteries."

"What did it say?"

Now he closed his eyes. Trying to dredge up the memory. "She never told me about it, she just argued with my mother about it. They argued a lot about it though. I heard her say it many times. ...when the battle of Hogwarts nears its end and a mother's rage cannot be countered, disappear or live no longer."

Turning the words over in her head, she was starting to worry. The implications scared her. Finally she focused her attention back to Draco. There was one last thing that had been bugging her for over a year. She wasn't sure if he had answers but needed to try. "The first night Tom took me. I had a vision. At the time, I thought it was a dream. Now, looking back, there were too many details hidden within for it to be a product of my imagination. Did you do that?"

Shaking his head, Draco considered her words. "I didn't even know Tom was successful until the rumors started about you in the hospital wing. He never mentioned such a manipulation."

She believed he had no knowledge of the vision. Not ready to write it off, she filed it away.

Silence hung in the room until Draco spoke up. "They're making me repeat my sixth year," he told her. "Take my seventh year."

"You can learn a lot if you choose to apply yourself."

"Maybe they can re-sort me into a different house," he mused.

She stood and gathered her things, "Or maybe you can show them what good can be done by a Slytherin who chooses to do the right thing even when it's hard."

Her hand was on the door knob when she heard him clear his throat.

"I am sorry. I know now that words aren't enough, but I still want you to know."

She nodded and decided to ease his guilt a small measure. "For what it's worth, your curse helped me resist Snape's legilimency. It saved my life. Snape's life," she admitted and left the room.

~~/~~

Bellatrix popped into existence in the shack. Triumphantly, she dumped the damascus steel on a dusty bench next to the other items. Procuring all the items needed while still maintaining her anonymity had been challenging. Releasing Bode from the cage she had crafted for him, she sneered. "I have everything you asked for. Now you'll fix this time turner."

He nodded. "I can modify the charm to give you more time. I'm not sure it will allow you to stay in the past for more than an hour," he said in a dreamlike trance.

She was pleased to see the imperius curse was still active and ensuring his compliance. His injury from Lucius' previous attempts at control were nearly healed. Despite his improvements, there was clearly lasting brain damage that was allowing him to be so much more susceptible. "That's all I need."

While he got to work, she studied her notes. Her primary objective was clear. It's success would be critical for every other step of her plan. She had already scoped out the museum in the present. The potions needed to achieve her goal were ready. An hour would have to be enough. Or several trips, but she knew the more trips back in time she took the more danger there was of discovery. It was of utmost importance that her travels remain hidden. For the first time in her life she needed to be cautious. Not an approach that felt natural. Still it was necessary.

She paced. Watched the wizard work over the bench. An occasional puff of smoke would rise up and hang overhead. It felt like hours, perhaps it felt longer because she was forced to simply look on. Do nothing. It was good practice. Finally, Bode stood victoriously.

"It's done?" Bellatrix asked.

He looked around. Confused once again before the imperious curse took hold. "Yes. The time in the past the user will have is extended."

"How long?" she asked impatiently.

"At least an hour. Not much more than that. It's hard to know for sure until it's tested."

She snatched it up and stared at it gleefully. Without looking at her prisoner, she waved her wand in his direction, sending him back to his cage. A second spell ensured he was asleep and couldn't escape while she was gone. Shoving parchment and a quill in her pocket, she cast the vanishment spell and finally spun the time turner and headed back to 1952.

In the past, she found herself in a wide open field. It was a surprise. Bellatrix took up a stick and shoved it into the ground to mark the spot. Then, turning on the spot, she apparated into a secluded alleyway next to the Hyslop manor. Careful to avoid people on the street, she slipped into the back yard, peered through the window. A house elf was serving the two sisters and it appeared they were alone. The clock on the wall read 12:22. Bellatrix noted the time while she waited for the house elf to leave the dining area. Following the creature's path through the windows, she cast an imperius curse, let the vanishment spell lift, and then transfigured her dress to appear as proper attire for her cover. She opened the back door, sent the house elf obediently back to the dining room.

"What is it, Elle?" Helixa asked.

"Very sorry, Madam. Elle forgot to inform the sisters that the Ministry was sending an historian today. She just arrived," Elle said, clearly distraught that she would have missed such an important visit.

Bellatrix stepped inside and tried her best to appear pleasant. "I'm sure it's our fault. It was a last minute request."

Both sisters stood, straightening their hair in unison. "What is it we can do for the Ministry?" Syna asked as she motioned to an empty chair. The house elf took a vial from Bellatrix's hand which was concealed by the folds in her dress and stepped around the table to ensure neither sister would notice truth serum being added to their after dinner tea.

"We've been made aware of a potential new spell," Bellatrix said, motioning to the many doubled objects collected in the room. "We'd like to understand the theory."

The sisters shared a concerned look between each other.

Bellatrix tried to wave the concern away. "No one is in trouble. It's a useful spell isn't it? What do you call it?"

Tea cups were set down around the table. Bellatrix didn't drink in the event that house elf also spiked hers. The sisters took advantage of the tea to drink and stall. By the time they had worked out what to say, the veritaserum was influencing their inhibitions. They detailed the process and theory involved. The failures and the successes.

Bellatrix took painfully detailed notes. Not wanting to miss a piece of information that would help her. Finally, she looked up. "Have you tried to duplicate a person?"

The sisters shared a knowing look. "The objects we have duplicated suffer from a more rapid decomposition than the original," Helixa said. To demonstrate, she cloned a cut apple. The trio watched as the new slice turned brown immediately. "In theory it will work. Ethically, we haven't considered using the spell on sentient beings until we can figure out how to slow this process."

Bellatrix nodded, thinking. Glancing at the clock she shifted. 12:56. Time was slipping away. "What could be done? To slow this?"

The sisters discussed the efforts made to combat the effects.

Finally, Bellatrix interrupted them. She had never cared to be a good student, but she was smart and she was a talented witch in her own right. "Is it possible that an object permanence spell could be used to stabilize the materials?"

Both sisters leaned forward. Intrigued. "I suppose it is a type of transfiguration isn't it? A switching spell of sorts where you just get to keep both objects."

Studying the original apple slice, Helixa doubled it and Syna blanketed it with a permanency spell. All three witches held their breath, watching. Both apple slices retained their healthy, white, color. Triumphant, Bellatrix stood. She obliviated both of the sisters' memory of the visit, vanished herself, collected the empty truth serum vial, sent her tea cup to the kitchen, and released the house elf from the curse. Satisfied any trace of her presence was gone, she slipped out the back door and apparated back to field. Waiting, she considered her next steps. She had to perfect the spell first on objects and then people in the present before using it in the past. When she was finally back in her time, she looked at her prisoner. She was done with him. He could be her first attempt.

~~/~~

Hermione sat across from Sadie Smith. Hermione guessed the counselor was in her early fifties. She had light brown hair that framed her kind face. Her robes were pressed and expertly tailored to give her a polished professional and feminine look. Her eyes were a pale blue and seemed to look at Hermione with genuine concern.

"I'm not sure where to start," Hermione broke the silence.

"Why don't you start with why you made this appointment?"

Letting out a small sigh, Hermione crossed her arms in front of her. "Aside from everyone in my life asking me if I've talked with a counselor?"

"Yes," Sadie chuckled. "I'm interested in what you need. Not what others think you need."

"Well, I guess I'm just ready to talk about what happened to me last year."

"How has what happened to you affected your life?"

It was Hermione's turn to laugh.

Sadie spread her arms, palms out. "That was a complex question. Of course. As you know, you gave me permission to access your medical records. You even gave me full, unredacted access to the Ministry's final reports on your situation. I understand you asked for a counselor with the clearances needed to read those reports. I suspect this was intentional to limit the amount of energy you would need to expend filling me in on what happened to you. Would that be a correct assessment?"

She nodded. "It seemed like it would be more efficient."

"Do you have trouble talking about what happened to you?"

"Not trouble. Just, it's a lot. Sometimes… I feel exhausted even trying to decide how much to say. I don't mind that you know. I thought, so much happened it would take too much time to cover it all in one session. It's easy to talk about most things with friends who already know my history."

"Are there particular events that occupy your thoughts more than others?"

"I spend a lot of time wondering how my life would be different. If the past year hadn't happened."

"That's understandable. Do you think it's not?" Sadie asked.

"It seems like an exercise in futility. It did all happen, didn't it? What good does it do to think about what might have been?"

"Are you unhappy with your life now? Since the war ended?"

"No!" she said forcefully and pushed back in the chair. "No. I'm happy with Harry. I love him."

"Do you think you're not supposed to be with Harry?"

"I know," Hermione whispered.

"What was that?"

"I know I'm not supposed to be with Harry. I know time was changed. I was meant to be with my friend Ron."

Sadie nodded sympathetically. "Do you regret that you're with Harry and not Ron? Do you feel guilty?"

Letting out a large sigh, tears stung Hermione's eyes. "I don't regret it, but I feel very guilty." It was a confession that carried with it a weight that could be felt by both witches.

"Do you feel like you don't deserve to be with Harry?"

Hermione looked at the exit and wondered if she could just get up and leave. "This isn't what I thought we'd be talking about today."

"We don't have to talk about this. We don't have to talk about anything you don't want to today. When I asked you about your life, you immediately thought about Harry though, when arguably there are many people and things in your life that are important."

Rubbing her face, Hermione leaned forward and tried to collect her thoughts. "I thought we'd be talking about how I tried to kill myself. Not who my boyfriend is."

"But you didn't try to kill yourself, did you? That wasn't your intention anyway. You're weren't suicidal. Do you feel suicidal?"

"No. I didn't want to die. I don't want to die."

"Do you have nightmares or flashbacks?"

"Only every day," she confessed.

"And how do you deal with that, when it happens?"

"I don't really. I find something else to do, something else to think about. I study. A lot."

"And you're able to concentrate on your studies?"

"That's the only time I can concentrate," Hermione admitted.

"Is avoidance a new strategy for you?"

Offense washed over her, she sat straight. "I'm not avoiding my problems. I'm just trying to figure out what to do about them."

The counselor kindly left the contradict stand. Instead, she redirected, "Do you think you need to do that on your own?"

"Obviously not, or I wouldn't be here would I?" she asked with an edge.

"That's fair," Sadie acknowledged and sat back. "Hermione. It's only been a month since the war ended. Before that, you were on the run, risking your life nearly everyday for a year. You can give yourself a break and acknowledge that it's going to take time to process everything. To understand how you feel about everything."

"A whole lot of people seem like they're already over it."

"Everyone heals differently. It's important you don't compare yourself to anyone. You're the only person who experienced exactly what you did. You're the only person struggling with exactly what you are," the counselor told her. "That means your recovery will take a unique path. Let me help you on your path. Let Harry help you."

"How?" It may have been a question, but it was also a cry for help.

"You're going to be patient with yourself. It's natural to want to distract yourself and avoid processing everything. This won't help you heal. We need to understand how your trauma is impacting your life and develop a coping plan to deal with that impact. That means when issues arise that make you relive events or make you uncomfortable, it will be important for you to talk to someone you trust about why it happened and what you need to feel safe. You and I can meet as often as you need. You can contact me anytime, day or night. You'll need to identify friends and family that you trust to talk about how you're feeling. Give yourself permission to decide when, how, and to whom you talk about your trauma. Give yourself permission to not be okay."

"Okay," Hermione breathed out. It seemed obtainable for the first time.

"I'm going to recommend you keep a journal. I get the sense that it's important for you to process your thoughts and feelings internally first before you say them out loud. That's okay. I won't ask to read that journal, but we might find it will be useful to have a record of how you worked through your thoughts before you were ready to voice them," the counselor explained. "Can I give you a journal?"

"Yes. I can do that," Hermione said.

Sadie stood up, gathered a leather bound journal and a card from her desk. She handed both to Hermione. "These are instructions for all the ways you can contact me. Let's take a week unless you need me sooner. Anytime you have a nightmare, a flashback. Anytime you feel panic. Anytime you find yourself avoiding a thought or conversation. Write it down. What were you doing when it happened. How did you feel. What you did as a result."

"Thank you," she said, taking the journal and standing. "I… just, thank you. This finally feels manageable."

"One day at a time, Hermione. It sounds cliché, but that's all you can ask of yourself."