Well, well, well. Welcome to the longer version of my short story Clean! Even just receiving a couple reviews was all the motivation I needed to write this! Thank you SO much to those who reviewed.
I won't keep you long, just remember that JK owns Harry Potter, this is just my plot line. Obviously, if you read Clean, it's painfully obvious that the characters may be OOC.
This is a story I've looked for forever and could never find it, so I guess I'll write it! PLEASE review! Critique me, tell me what I should do next, etc. Just please be nice!
Flashbacks are in italics, present is in normal text. Please be warned that this fan fiction IS hurt/comfort and will explore many themes of trauma, including nightmares, depression, anxiety, eating disorders, and self harm. PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!
If you ever need someone to talk to, my PMs are always open.
Enjoy!
theheartofm
"How could he? Help me understand, please," she whispers, her voice breaking. He sits to the left of her, sitting straight in an arm chair.
"If I could I would. I don't know why he chose to say it, he's the only one that knows."
She sighs and tears her eyes away from the fire, setting back heavily into the couch.
"But you did it, to Lily Potter," she whispers again, biting her lip. The Potions Master flinches, anger coursing through him.
"How the hell do you know that," he asks, fury evident in his voice. She doesn't flinch, his anger will never match Ron's.
"Harry told me, a few days after I came back from the hospital wing. It was in your tears, your memories you'd given him when you thought you were going to die," she pulls a small vial out of her bag. "I have them, here. I've never looked, Harry thought I would be curious but once I learned you lived I couldn't invade like that. Did you mean it?"
"I am not going to discuss my personal life with a know-it-all, I'm sure you could figure it out."
"Why do you call me that?" her voice broke again, tears forming in her eyes. He immediately regretted his words and sighed. His palms met his face and he looked back up at Hermione. Before he could speak, however, the door burst open and hit the wall hard. Hermione jumped as Ron himself along with McGonagall walked into the room.
"See, inappropriate behavior between a student and a teacher. I told you!" Ron yelled, pointing at the two. Hermione bit her lip and looked down, anxiety coursing through her. His voice felt like nothing else, somehow painful to her numb mind.
"I'll tell you what I see, Mr. Weasley. An emotional student suffering from the happenings of another, seeking comfort in the exact opposite place you seem to thing it'd come from. I'd have assumed even you could see that people aren't always what they seem, after the events of just days ago. Detention for the rest of the year, Mr. Weasley. For calling a student a foul name and for accusing a professor of inappropriate conduct. Go to your dorm, immediately." McGonagall's voice kept calm, but her eyes shown with fury and outrage. Ron blushed dark, and quickly ran out of the dungeons before he could receive any punishment from the greasy git.
"Miss Granger, this is not going to solve anything. What are you doing you foolish girl?"
His voice cut through the tension in the abandoned bathroom like a knife.
"What does it look like she's doing, Snape? Making herself sick! In my toilet! Oh!" Moaning Myrtle cried, diving into the stall next to Hermione.
"How long have you been there. Why are you even in here, isn't this the girls bathroom," her hoarse voice calls over the flushing of the toilet. She stands, much too quick for someone that hasn't ate in two days and just vomited what little she finally did, and he rushes over to steady her.
"I will not ask again, what are you thinking? Answer me, or I will deliver you to Poppy!"
She pushes out of her grip, going over to the sink and turning it on. She fills her hands with the cool water and splashes it on her clammy face. She swishes some in her mouth and then turns around to the Professor.
"Maybe if I wasn't me he wouldn't have said it," she whispers, her knees buckling from under her. He tries to grab her before she makes contact with the concrete floor, but he's too slow. He levitates her cold, clammy body and quickly makes his way down to the dungeons. He spells potions quickly into her stomach, and her eyes flutter open. She groans quietly, but it seems to echo off of the stone walls.
"Sleep, we will discuss this when you wake up. Potter will be present, too," he says, and panic fills her eyes for a second before the potions fully kick in. Her eyes close just as he makes his way to the floo, calling for Potter to be sent down to his classroom.