Chapter Seven – The Wrong Letter

Dear Ron,

I met a girl who resembles Ginny in every way that it's not funny. How's Hermione by the way? Is she still screwing that fag? What was his name, Ross? Pity it's not you, aye? You know you want to, I know you do. I bet you're peeved that you're not the one screwing her, huh? I think it's kind of pathetic how you've harboured this crush on her for who knows how long? I guess karma is coming back to you three fold.

Oh and Malfoy's here. Beautiful.

Harry

That was the letter I wrote when I wanted to vent off some steam. I had to admit, when I was writing it, I felt as though venom was being extracted out of my body and it felt good. Dr Bell once advised to me that I had to get some feelings down on a piece of paper so that was what I did. I surprised myself even. I actually took heed of her advice. I remembered that Ron wrote a letter to me three weeks ago and I realised then that I hadn't written back. I actually considered sending the letter to him.

When I woke up the next morning I re-read the letter and felt really foolish and guilty, so I wrote a more sensible, albeit shorter letter.

Dear Ron,

Things are grand. Met a girl from Liv. Malfoy's here – beautiful. Give my regards to Hermione.

Harry.


I sent the letter off with Hedwig and told her that if she managed to get the letter to him, she could hunt for rats for as long as she wanted. I didn't know the reason for this sudden bout of kindness towards my pet owl. I wasn't expecting a reply, for he was angry at me at the moment for what I did. I thought at the time that his letter would have been painstakingly formal and written out of courtesy and politeness. He really hated me and I didn't blame him.

The entire afternoon was devoted to rearranging my photo album. Ever since I came to Silverwater, it was all I ever looked at. After all, despite the fact that I was angry at them, I really missed Ron and Hermione. I missed Hermione's cool intellect and her compassion and I missed Ron's goofiness and his tendency to eat every sweet on the face of this earth.

Vasco came into our room and sat next to me on the floor. "Not the blasted photos again," he laughed.

"Someone needs to organise them," I said.

"Stop it. You're giving Amelie a run for her money."

He gathered all the photos sprawled out on the floor and dumped them all unceremoniously into the shoebox.

"Hey!" I cried. "You'll crease them!"

"We've got group therapy," he announced nonchalantly as he dumped the last of the photographs into the box. "Same place."

"Why?" I groaned.

"We have a new member of the crew?" Vasco replied. "We've got to induct Malfoy into the Le Grandus Loony Binnus."

"Are you serious?" I asked. "Is there really an induction ceremony?"

"No, you prat!" he cried. "But we're all waiting for you."

I groaned one more time and got up onto my feet. "This is turning out great" I added sarcastically.

Minutes later I was sitting underneath that tree once again, waiting for group therapy to begin. I tried to sit as far away from Malfoy as humanly possible but yet I wasn't able to escape his immature sneer and his overall snootiness.

"Mr Malfoy," said Dr Bell. "Tell us why you're here at Silverwater."

"Why?" said Malfoy.

"Because I asked you to."

"I almost bludgeoned my father to death and I tried to kill myself for it," Malfoy replied hastily. "My mother thought I was a nutcase for doing that so she admitted me here."

"Brilliant!" said Jai scathingly. "I'm rooming with a blithering lunatic."

"We're ALL blithering lunatics," Vasco reminded him.

"Why did you try to kill your father?" Amelie asked. From what I could see, she looked as though she didn't want to talk to Malfoy at all but curiosity got the better of her. Curiosity got the better of me. You didn't just admit somebody to a mental institution, despite what Malfoy tried to imply.

"Don't you listen, you idiot?" Malfoy snapped "He treated me like crap."

"Why are you here?" Regan asked.

Malfoy groaned and rolled his eyes like a four-year-old boy.

"I told you already, I tried to kill my father!"

"No you idiot!" Regan cried. "I mean, why are you in Silverwater? Shouldn't you be in Burwood with the criminally insane … or in Azkaban?"

"He's a Malfoy," I said sardonically. "He's probably got some connections. He's probably weasled himself out of this one."

"If I had connections I would be a free man," Malfoy snapped. "So much for your intelligence, Potter."

"Stop it!" Dr Bell exclaimed. "This is not a screaming match, despite what many of you think." As she did this she glanced at Malfoy and raised her eyebrows in incredulity and then glanced at the moving quill beside her.

"Sorry," I said.

"I'm not," said Malfoy.

"Will you stop and consider how you annoy the hell out of those around you?" Regan shrieked.

"Will you stop and consider how you annoy the hell out of people with your banshee wailing?" yelled Vasco.

"None of us are going anywhere with this racket!" said Dr Bell.

"He started it," Regan whined pointing at Vasco. She was reminiscent of a two-year-old girl. As a matter of fact, they were all like children.

Amidst all the screaming matches that involved Regan, Vasco and Malfoy, I managed to slip away unnoticed and head back to the main building. Once I stepped inside the building, a nurse scuttled over to me rather quickly.

"You have a visitor," she informed me.

If I knew any better, visitors were only allowed to come if the need was urgent. What was urgent in this case?

The nurse led me over to the Main Foyer where I saw Hermione. Her face was grim and impassive.

"Hello," I said drearily.

"Hello," said Hermione.

We stood in silence for a while, until she dug into her breast pocket of her coat. "Ron received this letter with Hedwig," she said. "Actually, Ron received this letter and I happened to be at the The Burrow at the time. Needless to say, he's not very happy."

Hermione handed me the envelope and I hastily fished the letter out. When I first opened it, the colour drained out of my face. I had sent the wrong letter.

I nodded my head, folded the letter and gave it back to her. "He's furious with me, isn't he?" I asked unnecessarily.

"Naturally," Hermione replied. "Harry, why did you write that to him?"

"I sent the wrong letter," I said, justifying my actions.

"The wrong letter?" Hermione asked. From the tone of her voice, I could tell she wasn't convinced.

"That was the letter that I had no intention of sending," I told her. "I only wrote that letter to vent off some feelings I had. I wrote another letter to him … and it looks as though I sent the wrong one."

Hermione groaned and ran a hand through her hair. "You got him really upset," she sighed. "I never saw him so angry."

"Why are you here?" I asked her. "Why couldn't Ron come here and tell me this himself?"

"He doesn't want to see you," Hermione replied. "He's so furious with you."

"You know, that's typical," I said angrily. "He doesn't have the guts to face me himself." I was reminded of the time Ron and I weren't talking to each other in fourth year. Instead of confronting me about the problem, Ron avoided me at all costs. It was happening all over again. Ron always avoided me when he was angry at me. That particular time wasn't any different from before.

"I did try to convince him to come here himself but he refused," said Hermione.

"I'm not surprised," I said spitefully.

Hermione looked stunned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Why doesn't he have the balls to stand up to me himself?" I asked her, replacing her question with my own.

"I already told you!" Hermione cried out in righteous anger. "He's furious with you!"

"I'm not accepting that as an answer!"

Hermione did not retaliate. Instead she exhaled and sat down. "I don't know what to do any more," she said morosely. "I don't know why you're angry with us. We're trying to help you and yet-."

"Don't do this, Hermione," I yelled. "Don't go on about how many galleons the three of you are chipping in for me to be here. DON'T go on about how much being here is for my own good. DON'T go on about how you put me in here because you love me and you want what's best for me because it's bull-!"

"Harry-."

"You don't know what I need. I hate it here, get me out."

"I can't do that," said Hermione.

"I want you," I said slowly, "to go over to the front desk and sign me out. Even though I like the people here, I hate it anyway."

"Harry, even if I could I wouldn't," Hermione groaned in frustration. "Please, do this for me."

I was so frustrated with her that I actually reached out and shook her vigorously by the shoulders. "Don't you understand?" I shouted into her face. "I need to get out of here!"

"Harry – please!"

I froze on the spot and realised the magnitude of my callousness. I released her quickly and dropped my arms to my side. Suddenly, shame plunged through my body. I physically abused her. I didn't bash her to death and I didn't really inflict physical injury onto her, but I shook her.

Hermione looked like she was at the brink of tears. She sniffed, got up and placed her bag onto her shoulder. "I should go," she croaked. "I shouldn't really be here anyway. I wouldn't really call this an emergency."

And as quickly as she arrived, she left.

I half expected Hermione to stay and convince me to finish my session at Silverwater. I thought she would come up with every logical reason to stay and even outline them to me. No, the damage was done. I didn't know if I was going to see her again.

Well, that was the end of that and what a horrible end it was, too.

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Next Chapter: Photographs and an Unequivocal Sex Invite

Amethyststar's: Thanks for your reviews. I'm glad you're enjoying it so far and I hope you'll keep enjoying it as I post more chapters. We haven't got long to go now. We're almost halfway there. Also, sorry the chapters so far are a little short but they do get longer.