22

September 11 – Saturday – Week 3

"Please stay with me."

Hermione had said the words the night before without thinking, without pausing whatsoever, and now she was internally berating herself as was her typical fashion.

You're a complete and total idiot.

What is wrong with you?

She could say a lot of things about Draco, but thankfully, his upbringing had at least taught him some semblance of propriety and decorum, even if he hadn't used them so much in his younger years. She could've kissed him – not literally, of course – when the words tumbled out of her mouth, stopping him dead in his tracks, mid-rise off the couch, and instead of sneering at her or turning up his nose in disgust as she immediately thought he was going to, he looked at her only briefly with an unreadable expression before dropping back down to the couch.

"Don't give me a reason to punch you, and I won't."

He scoffed and tilted his head in her direction sarcastically. "That's shite. The last two times I did nothing whatsoever to warrant it." He lifted his hand and began ticking fingers off as he counted. "The first one I'll give you. I definitely deserved that. The second one – I was literally trying to stop you from falling, and repayment for my valiantry was a bloody nose. The last time – I was being punished for someone else's crimes, which honestly you'd think I'd be used to by now."

Not wanting to ruin the obvious change in the atmosphere, she didn't comment on that last bit, and instead said, "Believe it or not, I'm not a particularly violent person."

"So, it's just me then? How lovely."

She shrugged innocently. "There's just something about your face that makes it so easy to punch."

He laughed then, in that carefree way that she'd only seen briefly a few times before. The same way he'd laughed when he admitted that the greatest fear of his 14-year-old self was living in squalor. Maybe it was because she'd only seen bits and pieces of that side of him, but there was something about the sight of him laughing so freely that made her smile. She wasn't laughing alongside him, but smiling at him in a stupid, goofy smile that she hadn't even been aware of until his laughter died down slowly when he noticed.

He cleared his throat, and Hermione looked away quickly noticing his discomfort. She saw him check his watch from the corner of her eye, and she knew what he was about to say before he even said it.

As if the last hour hadn't even happened, she immediately felt her chest begin to tighten again, and she cursed herself for being so weak. Even just the comfort of having someone nearby had eased the fear in her, if only briefly, but now, knowing he was about to leave her here, it all came crashing back.

"It's just after three." He started to rise and said, "We should both try to –"

"Please stay with me." She hadn't even realized she was speaking out loud when the sound of her own voice startled her. He stopped and looked at her for only a split second, and in that instant, he must've noticed the look of terror on her face, both from the idea of being alone again and from hearing the desperation in her own voice as she begged him not to leave her.

She expected him to laugh, mock her in some way, and she didn't breathe again until he sank back down onto the couch without a word. He kicked his shoes off and twisted around to face her again.

He pushed her legs further toward the back of the couch and said, "Then scoot over."

They sat in silence, Draco staring out the window behind the couch and Hermione trying to not feel self-conscious at having asked him to stay in the first place.

After a while, he seemed to sense her anxiety and said, "You should try to sleep." He looked down at his lap and added, "I won't leave."

"Thank you. I just –"

"You don't have to explain, Granger. I know." He reached behind him and clicked the lamp off.

Hermione shifted down so that she was laying on the couch more comfortably, and the last thing she remembered before she fell asleep was being thankful that she'd had the good sense to put on her denims before leaving her room. At least this time, she wouldn't risk flashing him while she slept.

She awoke a few hours later, still feeling groggy. She sat up to stretch and found that this time they weren't wrapped around one another. Instead, he was still sitting up just the way he'd been when she fell asleep, but now his arms were thrown onto the back of the couch with his head laying on top of them. Her shifting weight on the couch woke him, and he slowly lifted up off the back of the couch. His eyes were still closed as he grimaced and twisted his neck to the side, causing Hermione to wince as it cracked loudly.

He opened his eyes slowly and brought one hand up to rub the back of his neck.

"I'm sorry," she said, feeling a stab of regret at having asked him to stay, especially now knowing he'd slept in such an uncomfortable position just because she'd asked him to. "That didn't look very comfortable."

He was still massaging a spot on the back of his neck, but he only shrugged.

"You could've laid down too at least."

"I didn't mean to fall asleep, and I … uhm…didn't want a repeat of last time."

She nodded, her face reddening at the memory of his hand on her thigh and shifted quickly to stand up. "I'm sorry, I –"

Just as she stood to walk away, not really sure of what she was trying to say, she felt his hand around her wrist.

"It's okay, Granger. I," – he looked down, struggling to find the words he was trying to get out – "I know what it's like to not want to be alone."

Her heart was in her throat. How am I supposed to respond to that? And why is he always so fucking endearing? He didn't have to make her feel better for her weakness, having already done enough by simply staying by her when she'd asked in an insane moment of vulnerability, but he had just the same, sharing his own secrets with her like the pages of a book.

She gave him a half-smile. "Thank you, Malfoy. I –"

He let go of her wrist, causing her to look back at him. He gave her a roguish smile that had her stomach doing somersaults and said, "We've slept together twice. Surely, I can officially be Draco now."

She smiled freely then, taking comfort in his attempts to ease her own embarrassment. "Thank you, Draco. I appreciate it. I don't typically get to sleep without nightmares." Or dreams, she thought, as images of her last dream of him flooded her mind, which brought the blush back to her cheeks and sent her scrambling to put her shoes back on.

Get it together, idiot, she thought to herself as she pushed the thoughts of him on top of her on this very couch quickly from her mind, reciting potion ingredients no less.

Ashwinder eggs.

Rose thorns.

Peppermint, but she stopped just as abruptly when she realized she was mentally brewing Amortentia.

The thoughts kept replaying in her mind throughout the day, causing her to burn the eggs at breakfast and trip over a tree root during their morning hike. Not only was her own vulnerability with him a major concern, but all that Draco said had her reeling as well. She'd meant what she told him, that he had nothing to be ashamed of, but his confession to her and the way he looked at her, his eyes red and brimming with tears, broke her heart for him and consumed her thoughts.

Which is exactly why she was completely unprepared when they all walked into group that night to find a large cupboard sitting in the middle of the room.

Her eyes instantly went wide, and one look around the room showed the same look of fear on everyone else's face.

She should've known it was coming. They'd been discussing fears for weeks. but the sight of the cupboard brought with it images of what she might see coming out of it – not to mention the looks on everyone's face when they all saw her biggest fear.

She could almost hear her heart thudding against her chest, and she shook her head slightly to relieve the pulse pounding heavily in her ears.

Beside the cupboard sat six vials of shimmering pink potion – the antidote to their magical suppression, presumably.

Hermione sat down, wiping her hands across her jeans and realized that Walt had been speaking.

She directed her attention to him, trying to pull her thoughts from the aching in her chest and compression in her lungs.

"The good news at least is that you all get your magic returned to you a day early." He turned his attention toward Seamus and added, "And there will be precautions put into place in the event of another magical explosion, for those of you who are worried about that."

It's me. He's talking about me. She cast her eyes down shamefully and hoped no one noticed. But, of course, when she lifted her face, she saw Draco looking at her, his face a mixture of his own fear and … what … compassion?

Of course, it would be compassion. That threw her for a loop too. Can't anything be the same anymore? She'd be lying if she said that she didn't appreciate this new sentimentality that she'd discovered in him, but a part of her missed the familiarity of his biting comments and sneers, particularly now when she'd already shown him just how pathetic she was.

She turned her face away, directing her attention back to Walt.

"We'll only do a few of you tonight, depending on time. The rest will have their turn tomorrow."

Hermione was reminded of her own feelings of disappointment during class in third year when she hadn't gotten the opportunity to participate. Now, she wished nothing more than to be excluded – to run back to her room and hide even.

Walt stood and began moving the chairs to the far wall of the room, indicating for them all to do the same. Once the room had been cleared, with nothing but the cupboard and the cart in the center of what had been their typical circle, Walt stepped in front of it, looking at them all.

"I would ask for volunteers, but something tells me none of you feel ready to tackle this just yet." He smiled apologetically. "I want you all to think back to our first night in this room. We discussed then that taking the reins on your own healing would include dedication and stepping out of your comfort zone. You have all done a great job of that so far. This," he paused to point toward the cupboard, "is no different. And I feel it's a critical step in healing. The people in this room are not here to judge you. They aren't here to bear witness to your fears, either. We're all here to support one another. To show each of you that you are not alone in your grief, your suffering, or your trauma. We've been here for three weeks now. It's time to jump into the deep end."

He paused, slowly looking around the circle at every face in the room.

"Fuck it." Every eye in the room immediately snapped toward Seamus. "Might as well get this over with, yeah?" He strolled toward the cart in the middle of the room and downed one of the potions. "I don't suppose I can get some firewhisky too?" When Walt smirked at him, Seamus shrugged. "Worth a shot. Okay, what am I supposed to do? Am I just getting rid of the thing, or what?"

Susan spoke up. "You know the incantation, and we're all here if you need help. This exercise isn't so much about whether or not you can banish it as it is about being able to see your fears in front of you." She stepped forward to address the group. "This is a difficult task for anyone really, if you all remember back to your own first encounters with a boggart, but it's substantially harder for those who've faced significant loss and trauma. We don't expect you all to waltz up here and be able to get rid of it immediately. If you need help, all you need to do is ask. Walt, Alys, and myself are here to assist you through the whole process." She stepped back and nodded toward Seamus.

Seamus took a deep breath, rolled his shoulders back once and squared off a few paces away from the cupboard door. He lifted his wand from his pocket and softly said, "Alohomora," just as Hermione closed her eyes. The door slowly opened, and Hermione heard a sharp intake of breath coming from, surprisingly, behind her. She turned to see Parvati, her eyes wide in alarm and her hand covering her mouth. Hermione turned quickly back to the cupboard, confused as to what had caused the shift in Parvati. This was Seamus's boggart after all.

Hermione too was shocked to see Lavender standing in front of Seamus. This must've caught him off guard as well; he lowered his wand slightly as Lavender fell down in front of him, her body spasming in pain and her cries echoing off the walls around them. Her face was mottled in small cuts, and she wore only a ripped t-shirt and pink panties, giving Hermione a plain view of the dark blue and purple bruises coursing down her legs. Hermione couldn't see Seamus's face from where she stood, but she could see his shoulders rising and falling quickly with each breath. Alys started to take a step forward, but Walt put a hand on her shoulder and gave her a faint shake of his head.

Hermione's attention was pulled back to the center of the room as the screams morphed into a different, deeper voice. Collin had taken the spot where Lavender had been, his body convulsing in the same way. He at least wore all of his clothes. Hermione turned to see Dennis staring away from the scene in front of them as intently as possible, the quick moving of his chest and the red blossoms in his cheeks the only indication that he'd seen his brother's form. The boggart shifted again, a dozen other faces taking the place of Collin's before it finally settled on that of Parvati. The only distinguishable feature between that and her twin was that this boggart wore a red and gold tie. Instead of screaming in pain, Parvati's image cowered on the floor, her knees tucked beneath her and her chest bobbing with each sob. "Please… please, stop."

The real Parvati gave a thick sob as well from beside Hermione as she stepped forward, her hand over her mouth. She looked like she was torn between wanting to go to Seamus to help him and wanting to stay as far away from the boggart as possible. Hermione shifted closer to Parvati and wrapped an arm around her waist. Hermione wasn't typically the type of person to show affection this way, but hadn't Draco done the same for her last night? She felt movement on Parvati's other side and saw Nicola place a hand on the witch's shoulder as well. At the contact between the other two women, Parvati hung her head into her hands.

The sound of the real Parvati's sobs stirred Seamus, snapping him out of the trance he'd been put under at the sight of his friends being tortured. He glanced behind him quickly, and his eyes flicked first to Nicola's hand on Parvati's shoulders and then to Hermione's face. Hermione gave her best reassuring smile, and it seemed to give him the encouragement he needed. A scowl replaced the look of grief on his face and he turned back to the boggart on the floor. With Seamus's attention directed back toward it, the boggart shifted again, returning to Lavender's body. Her blonde hair was matted in blood on one side, and she cowered on the floor with her knees pulled tightly to her chest. The same bruises Hermione had seen before covered her legs now as well. Lavender looked up at Seamus, tears running down her face, and said, "Why won't you help me?"

At that, Hermione heard another sob accompany Parvati's before realizing it was her own. This was Seamus's fear – not being able to help the people he cared about – not having been able to save them from whatever hell they went through at Hogwarts.

Seamus's voice broke as he tried to get the words out, and Hermione realized he wasn't saying the incantation to get rid of the boggart. He was whispering, "I'm sorry. I tried," over and over again. Parvati pulled away from Hermione and Nicola and stepped toward Seamus. He flinched as she placed her hand on his shoulder and whispered something into his ear. When Seamus turned his head to face her, Hermione could see that he was trying desperately to hold in his own tears. At the sight of Parvati behind him, his whole demeanor crumbled. He started to turn around, to face his friend and the others in the group, but Parvati shook her head imperceptibly and turned him back toward the boggart. She laid her head across his back and said, "You can do this."

Seamus breathed deeply and lifted his wand again. "Riddikulus," he said, the words barely audible through the boggarts continued cries in Lavender's voice. Nothing came from his wand, and Hermione wasn't sure if the antidote for his suppresion hadn't worked or if Seamus hadn't been focused enough yet.

"You can do this," Parvati said again.

"Riddikulus," Seamus shouted, much more forceful than before, and the boggart shimmered briefly before shifting again. It was still Lavender, but this image was completely different than the last one. Her hair was restored to its normal glory and her robes completely covered her body, but Hermione had never seen Lavender look this way either. Her face was littered with spots of black ink. The boggart Lavender was rubbing her hands all over her face, smearing the ink, saying, "Have I gotten it? Really, Seamus, is it gone?" At her words, Parvati lifted her head from Seamus's back to look at the boggart as well. Then a bubble of laughter came from her mouth, before the sound of Seamus's watery laugh joined along.

Walt flicked his wand, sending the boggart flying back into the cupboard, and the latch clicked in place.

Seamus turned around to face Parvati and pulled her into a tight embrace. The sound of their laughter was replaced with sniffles. The rest of the room was silent, watching them work through what they'd just seen.

After a few moments, they quieted and let go of one another, but Parvati left her hand on his shoulder as they took a seat. Walt motioned toward the chairs, and the rest of the group sat as well.

Walt spoke softly and gave Seamus a kind half-smile. "Seamus, did you anticipate what form the boggart would take for you?"

Seamus wiped the tears from his face, ran a hand through his hair, and gave a shaky laugh. "Not exactly. I thought it would have something to do with my last year at Hogwarts, but I wasn't entirely sure."

"Did you ever see your friends this way?"

Seamus leaned forward, putting his head in his hands with his elbows resting on his knees. "Yeah. Regularly."

It's no wonder he was upset with us. I'm sure it seemed like we'd abandoned them.

"There was nothing I could do. I saw it, and I tried to help, but there was nothing I could do."

No one spoke. They all waited on Seamus to continue, to finally share his story.

He leaned back, looking up toward the ceiling and exhaled heavily, the breath shaking on its way out of his chest. "It was the worst with Lavender. Hell, we were all being tortured every day. But when I found out…"

After his voice faded, Parvati scooted her chair closer and put her hand in his. Alys said, "What did you find out, Seamus?"

"We were together, had been since school started. But, a couple months before the battle, she pulled away. We hadn't… she started avoiding me, and everyone else really. After a few weeks of it, I finally got her to talk to me. She'd just made it back to the Common Room. Nobody was in there but me, and she barreled into the room, hysterical almost. She kept trying to push me away, but I knew it wasn't about us. The way she was crying and flinching away from me, I just knew. After a while, I got her calmed down and she just… she just collapsed."

Seamus paused to take a few deep breaths before continuing, and Hermione felt her own heart in her throat. She looked around the room, not understanding why or even caring enough in that moment to question it, and searched for Draco's grey eyes. She found him instead, sitting similar to the way Seamus had been, his head in his hands.

"She told me how they were hurting her, some of the Slytherins and the Carrows, and showed me the bruises all over her. They… they forced her to do things and… there was nothing I could do about it. She wouldn't tell me who they were, other than the Carrows, and she told me it would just make it worse for her if I tried to stop them. The next day is when we started hiding in the Room of Requirement. I –"

His voice broke again, and he clenched his teeth together and closed his eyes, willing himself to go on. "I told her I'd take care of her. And I didn't. I couldn't save her." His voice took on a quality that Hermione had never heard in him, and it brought another choked sob out of her mouth. He sounded so broken.

"I couldn't save her. I couldn't save any of them or stop any of it."

Walt said, "I know that can't be easy, Seamus, but, their pain and suffering doesn't fall on your shoulders. I think these forms that the boggart took are actually only symbols for what your true fear is."

Seamus looked up at him, clearly confused as Walt continued. "All of the fears we've mentioned over the past week are deeply rooted somewhere else. This boggart, I believe, took the shape of your friends because it would hurt you, yes, but your fear is the accompanying loss of power, the inability to control or stop your own suffering or the suffering of someone you love. But, here, just moments ago, we all watched you master that fear. You pushed through the pain of seeing what you consider to be your greatest failure and stopped that fear right in its tracks. That's something to be proud of, Seamus."

Seamus scoffed but said nothing.

"Does anyone have anything to add?" Walt looked around only briefly before Parvati spoke.

"You did save me, Seamus," Parvati said as she lay her head onto his shoulder. "In more ways than one." His face contorted in grief again as he brought Parvarti's hand to his lips.

Such a simple act, hardly even intimate at all, but Hermione's chest seemed to warm at seeing them be comforted in one another. Regardless of where they stood now, at one time she considered these two friends, close friends even, and seeing them be able to find some sort of solace in one another after everything they'd been through made Hermione feel like maybe there was hope for her after all.

Walt's words pulled her from her thoughts. "Does anyone want to volunteer to go next?" He looked around the room expectantly.

Just as Walt opened his mouth, likely to pick out one of them to face their fear next, Dennis volunteered, his voice barely more than a whisper.

As he stood, he wiped his palms across his jeans and shook them fiercely. He strolled to the table and drank the contents of one of the vials just as Seamus had. They all took their spots at the back of the room again as Dennis walked toward the cupboard.

"Alohomora." The cabinet door opened, just as it had before, and out stepped a middle-aged woman. Her hair was a shade darker than Dennis's, but it had the same wavy texture. She looked at Dennis for only a second before a bright green light erupted in front of her chest and she hit the floor, her eyes open and staring at nothing. Dennis lifted his wand and attempted to say the spell, but nothing came out of his mouth. A second later, the boggart transformed into a man, lying in a similar fashion. He had the same fair complexion as Dennis, with broken glasses hanging from his face. Dennis choked on his words again as the boggart shifted one last time, taking the shape of a little girl, lying lifeless as the two adults had. At this image, Dennis seemed to gather the conviction he needed to say, "Riddikulus!"

The little girl morphed a bit, pulling herself from the floor and scowling down at the silly sailor dress she was wearing, complete with black Mary Janes and bright red neckerchief. "Shut up, Dennis!" she exclaimed, stamping her foot in emphasis. A smile broke out across Dennis's face as Walt sent the boggart careening back into the closet, locking the door with a click.

When they returned to their seats, Dennis was shaking but not nearly as badly as he'd been when the boggart first appeared.

"Was that your family, Dennis?" Walt asked.

Dennis nodded and looked up to meet Walt's eyes. "Yeah, my parents and my sister, Abigail."

"What would you say your fear is after experiencing that?"

"Well, at first glance I'd say losing my family, but after you psychoanalyzed Seamus', I'm sure it's something a bit deeper than that."

Walt chuckled and said, "And you'd be right. Care to give it a guess?"

"Loss? Being left alone?" Dennis asked, looking down at the floor.

"I think both of those are true, Dennis. Obviously, losing anyone you care about is difficult, but losing your older brother in such a way I think has created in you a fear of being alone, a fear that goes beyond just loss. That's a very common fear, one that I'd say is shared by almost everyone. But just like Seamus did, you confronted that. You stood up to that fear and shut it down." Walt clapped Dennis on the back encouragingly and then turned back to the group. He looked down at his watch, and said, "I think we'll do one more person tonight. Any volunteers?"

Hermione looked around, hoping someone else would speak up, but they were all looking anywhere but at Walt. She looked up just as Walt's eyes fell on her.

Damn.

She knew he wouldn't call her out, but he was looking at her expectantly, a small reassuring grin on his lips.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before nodding.

"Thank you, Hermione." Every eye snapped toward her as she stood and walked to the cart to retrieve her own antidote. Her hands were shaking as she struggled to remove the cap. She drank it down quickly, feeling a sensation of glowing warmth all over her body, starting at her feet and working its way up to her head. She pulled her wand from her pocket and walked back to stand in the same place where Dennis and Seamus had stood before her. She caught a glimpse of the others staring at her as she turned to face the cabinet.

You can do this. You can do this. You can do this.

Maybe if she repeated it enough, she'd believe it. If she was being honest, the issue wasn't whether or not she'd be able to banish the boggart, though not being able to do it before when it was something as trivial as failing her exams was slightly disconcerting. But more worrisome than that was coming face to face with one of the beings that haunted her dreams every night.

She pointed her wand toward the cupboard, watching as the tip of it shook. She took a deep breath and willed her heart and breathing to calm. "Alohomora."

Was that her voice? It sounded unfamiliar and much more confident than she felt.

The cupboard door slowly pushed open and her stomach sank as Greyback stepped out and stalked toward her. So far, everyone else's fear had stayed put, with each of them suffering or dying right outside the door, but Greyback walked toward her slowly, his head tilted down and his heavy-lidded eyes staring hungrily at her. She could smell him, the stink of blood and sweat and gods knew what else, as he took each step in her direction.

As she lifted her wand back to point it toward Greyback, he laughed, the sound coming out as a growl causing goosebumps to break out across her skin.

"I told you you'd be mine, Mudblood." She felt the backs of her thighs hit a table, preventing her from moving further away from him.

She couldn't think straight, and her wand started to slip from her sweaty palm. "No," she said, all traces of confidence gone from her voice.

Greyback pushed himself up against her, pushing her harder against the table behind her, and took her face in his hand. His sharp nails dug into the flesh of her neck, causing her to drop her wand and grasp at his hand. She tried to push him away from her, scratching at the hand that gripped her throat, but he gave the same throaty laugh before dragging his tongue up the length of her face, his spit dripping hot across her cheeks.

Hermione was distantly aware of shouts coming from around her and she prayed Harry and Ron had been able to fight the other snatchers and were coming to help her now just as Greyback snapped her hips closer to him. She gave up all semblance of fighting and felt frozen in fear when he twisted her head to the side sharply and bit down on the skin right above her collarbone. She heard herself give out a shriek unaware that she'd even been doing it.

Then he was instantly thrown away from her, leaving her gasping for breath and shaking uncontrollably. She felt hands on her, causing her to jump and scream as she tried frantically to push them away from her.

"No! No!" she yelled, before Alys's face came into view. She sat down on the floor in front of Hermione where she'd crouched trying to get away from whoever was grabbing her. All at once sound came back to the room, as if their entire ordeal had taken place in a vacuum. She realized there was shouting going on around her and tried to look toward them, but Alys gently took her face in her hands. Hermione pulled her legs into her chest and felt sobs overtake her as she remembered where she was.

"It was… it was…" She couldn't get the words out between her gasps for air. "It was real. It was real." The all-too-familiar feeling of air being crushed from her lungs sent the room spiraling out of focus.

Alys kept Hermione's face in her hands, and said, "Breathe with me, Hermione. You're safe. Breathe with me."

She tried not to focus on the commotion going on around her as she followed Alys' guidance in a series of deep breaths, keeping her attention on Alys' dark eyes in front of her.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

The pain in her chest slowly started to dissipate from painful constrictions to a dull tightening.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

She felt a sharp stinging pain in her palms when she was finally able to unclench her hands.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Alys's face swam into full focus as the haziness around the edge of Hermione's vision slowly faded, and she let go of Hermione's face.

When the feeling of fear subsided, it was replaced with an overwhelming sense of shame and humiliation. She'd been assaulted in front of everyone. By a boggart, of all fucking things. And she failed to get rid of it, again, in front of everyone, and lost all sense of her faculties, even losing her sense of reality, thinking it had actually been Greyback who was attacking her.

Not that it mattered if it was him or not… it would've killed me just the same.

She buried her face in her arms and cried, hoping that Walt had the decency to clear the room after just causing her to not only face her fear in front of an audience but actually forcing her to relive it. Why hadn't he intervened sooner? The moment she dropped her wand or when it had touched her?

She let herself go, feeling her whole body shaking as sobs wracked through her. After what felt like an eternity and she was sure everyone had left, she lifted her head and peeked out to see Alys sitting in front of her, just as patiently as ever, but her face was taut, a look Hermione hadn't ever seen on her.

"I'm so sorry, Hermione. We had no idea that would happen, or even could happen." Hermione winced as she lightly touched the area where Greyback – the boggart, NOT Greyback, Greyback is dead – had bitten her, and her fingers came away sticky with blood.

"Susan brought some antiseptic, but we aren't sure how to heal a boggart-inflicted wound. We've called for a healer."

Hermione swallowed, feeling a scratching in her throat, either from the boggart's grip around her throat or from screaming herself hoarse.

"I'm okay," Hermione said, though she wasn't sure who she was trying to convince exactly. She cleared her throat, trying to quell the burning pain, and continued, "How is it that when I'm not actually in danger, my body shoots out magic to protect me, but when I'm actually being choked I'm completely fucking useless."

Alys shook her head, trying to assuage Hermione's concerns, and said, "You aren't useless, Her-"

"Don't patronize me, Alys. You saw what just happened just like everyone else. Don't tell me that I did anything except just stand there and be attacked by a bloody boggart."

"Nobody knew that it was capable –"

She held her hand up to silence Alys. In a short period of time, she'd come to trust Alys, to rely on her even, but right now, hearing her tell her that everything was going to be okay or that she hadn't failed or something equally as asinine and infuriating as "I'm so proud of you," Hermione was afraid she'd hit her.

Hermione turned to look around the room and found it, gratefully, empty. "Where is everyone?"

"Walt sent everyone away." She paused, shifting uncomfortably. "There was… a bit of an altercation, so Walt sent everyone to their rooms to cool off."

Hermione's mind reeled. "An altercation?" What could possibly have happened while she was being groped by a fucking boggart that would have caused a fight?

"Yes, a few people were upset that Walt didn't intervene sooner."

Oh. "That seems entirely reasonable," she said, her words heavily laden with sarcasm and bitterness. Honestly, she didn't really know what to do with that information, and she couldn't really think straight at the moment, so she filed it away to deal with later.

She tried to stand and felt her legs wobble beneath her. Alys reached out a hand to steady her, and Hermione said, "Can I go back to my room?"

"I think we should talk about what just happened, Hermione."

"Do we have to do that now? I'd like to just go be by myself for a while and…" Her voice cracked and she swallowed thickly, trying to push her emotions down as they tried to fight their way out. "I just want to be alone, please."

Alys nodded and helped walk her to her room, neither of them speaking. The halls were completely empty, and Hermione was thankful that they hadn't passed anyone along the way.

When they made it to her room, Walt and the healer were there waiting for them. Walt tried to speak to Hermione, to apologize for the situation just as Alys had, but Hermione just shook her head. She was trying too hard to hold her emotions in check and having to force a conversation with him would have sent her tears spilling over again.

Once the healer had cleaned her neck and covered it with a bandage, he said, "There's little to no risk of infection." He gave her a jar of thick ointment and added, "Continue to apply this twice a day and it shouldn't scar either." As soon as they left her room, Hermione locked the door behind them and allowed herself to fall apart again.

She hid in her room for the rest of the night, questioning herself on how long she'd be able to hide herself away before they forced her to come out. Of course, it was embarrassing to have been unable to fight it – that was the second time she'd fought both a boggart and Greyback, and she'd been unable to defend herself on all four counts – but more than anything she couldn't get the feeling of his hands off her skin.

She showered twice that night, scrubbing her skin as harshly as she could, but her top layer of skin was scoured away long before she could get rid of the feeling of his hands on her body. She'd washed her hair twice, but she could still smell him; the stink of sweat and blood seemed to be embedded in her pores. She washed her face twice, but she could still feel his hot breath and spit across her lips.

All at once, her chest began to tighten again, and she felt the walls start to close in around her. She looked at her clock and saw that it was almost midnight. The house had been completely silent for hours and empty when she'd walked through it earlier with Alys. So, she got dressed, pulling on her jeans and jumper along with an extra layer just to see if she could suppress the feeling of ants crawling across her skin that the boggart had left behind, and left her room. She peeked outside her door, again making sure that nobody was in the hall, before heading to the art therapy room. Part of her hoped Draco wasn't there, so she wouldn't have to face anyone after what happened, but another part of her was terrified to be alone.

She looked through the windows on the French doors and saw him sitting there in their normal spot. Was he actually wringing his hands? She took a deep breath and fought with herself for a moment on which feeling was more powerful at the moment, her humiliation or her fear. Finally, the latter won out, and she opened the door.