Hermione stood outside the office of Dr. Parvati Patil.
At first, Hermione toyed with the idea of going to a Muggle therapist. She already had her cover story planned out; she would tell the therapist that she had seen her best friend almost get killed by a Columbian Druglord, but at the pivotal moment, her friend managed to get the upper hand and kill the Druglord himself.
But then, how would she explain the irrational fear that this Druglord, who is presumably mortal, would all of a sudden come back to life and go after said friend?
No, she decided that the best course of action would be to visit a magical therapist. However, she knew that whomever she came across would immediately recognize her.
When looking up prominent therapists, Hermione had come across Parvati's name. Of course, Hermione was amazed that someone so short out of Hogwarts could already be practicing licensed therapy, but then she remembered the death toll. Apparently, the war had the one positive effect of leaving the job market much more open to the newly graduated students.
However insensitive that may sound.
Hermione herself, and even Harry had benefited from this. Two months short of Hogwarts, and they were already senior level Aurors. Of course, the Ministry would have been foolish not to accept them with the repertoire they had already built up, but still, would this have happened if there hadn't been a war?
Naturally, Hermione debated whether she wanted to be treated by Parvati, not because of her age or experience, (she'd probably had a lot of people needing therapy so soon after the war) but because she knew Hermione. They'd been in the same house, and dorm together for the past seven years, and she was afraid she'd be biased in her treatment.
Then there was that little thing with Harry. Parvati and Harry had dated during their sixth year, albeit briefly. However, Parvati remained bitter awhile after the breakup, and blamed it all on Hermione. Of course Hermione assured Parvati that she was talking pure rubbish, and seeing that Harry and Hermione didn't make a move towards each other, Parvati forgave Hermione and all was well.
Then of course, there was that other thing. But no, of course no, that wasn't at all relevant…
In the end, it was precisely for this history that Hermione chose Parvati. She wouldn't be like any other witch or wizard, asking curious questions, because Parvati was there all along.
And if anyone understood the complex nature of Harry and Hermione's friendship, it was Parvati, for she witnessed its growth first hand.
Resolving to get it over worth, Hermione charged into the room. Parvati's office, small, though comfortable, was decorated quite in the same manner as a Muggle therapist's office would be: dark leather chairs, mahogany furniture, and generic plants.
Parvati had her back to the door, and without even turning around, she firmly announced, "If you have no appointment, please turn around and make one, and I will aid you at the proper time."
"I'm sorry to barge in like this, Parvati," Hermione said quietly.
Parvati turned around, a wide smile on her face. "Hermione Granger!" she exclaimed happily. Then, her joyful smile at seeing an old friend was quickly replaced with surprise. "What on earth are you doing here?"
Hermione slumped onto the nearest chair, her eyes tearing up. "I can't sleep Parvati. I see it, I see it all the time…"
Alarm etched all over her face, Parvati knelt on the floor next to Hermione, her big beautiful black eyes also welling up with tears.
The War was a particular dark subject with her, for she and Padma had also lost their parents in it. Though many clients came to her, traumatized by the loss of a loved one, no other patient's agony had so moved her like Hermione's, which was quite natural as Hermione was the only patient to have had first hand experience fighting You-Know-Who himself.
"Tell me," Parvati pleaded. Hermione nodded, and began to describe it all.
"Take Ron to safety!" Harry bellowed at Hermione, who was presently making her way toward him.
They were in front of the Riddle House; the storm that clashed above them in the clouds reflected the storm they were currently weathering on the ground.
"No!" Hermione yelled. "I can't leave you! Ron will be ok, he's only been knocked unconscious…"
"I demand you to leave, Hermione!" Harry roared. "You cannot be here!"
"Yes, silly girl," Voldemort's cold voice snarled. "Take your stupid friend and go! The fight is between me, and this boy…"
Hermione ignored both of them, and continued to limp toward Harry.
"Fine, have it your way. Crucio!" Voldemort yelled, his wand pointed at Harry. Harry screamed; he was too weak, unable to fight off the curse.
"Stop it!" Hermione screamed. "Just stop it! Expelliarmus!" Hermione yelled, pointing her wand at Voldemort.
Voldemort's wand flew out of his hand, and he looked up at her in surprise. "The foolish mudblood has spunk."
Taking advantage of Voldemort's momentary incapacity, Hermione lunged at Harry, and helped him up. Upon seeing Voldemort's wand back in his hand, Hermione placed herself before Harry in a protective stance.
The rain splattered on her face, wiping away the blood, evidence of a past duel with Bellatrix Lestrange. She stood there, in front of him, protecting him. He was soo weak…too weak…he tried to push her away, but she refused. "No," he said, "I won't let you do this."
But she wasn't as badly hurt as he was, and for the life of him he couldn't push her away.
"Stand aside, silly girl…" the cold, malicious voice said. "Although it would bring him great pain to see you die before him, you could prove to be…quite valuable in the future, after I win this war…" he said this last part with what one would call a licentious grin.
"I won't let you do this," Harry whispered in her ear.
Ignoring Harry, Hermione addressed Voldemort. "I don't care what you say! Take me, please! Not Harry! Please, take me…kill me instead…"
"Please, you know this has nothing to do with you," Harry pleaded. "I won't let you do this; you'll die for nothing," and with all the strength he could muster, he pushed her away.
"Finally," the cold voice said, and cast his spell…
Hermione stopped, unable to continue because her sobs had become uncontrollable. Parvati herself, the licensed therapist in the room, had already gone through a whole pack of Tempo tissues.
"Parvati…I can't anymore, I just can't!" Hermione managed to say between sobs. "I see it all the time, day in, and day out. I see it while I'm awake! I dream it while I'm asleep! I can't sleep! Every night I wake up screaming, and Harry rushes to my side to comfort me. I can't even let him sleep anymore, and I know this is taking its toll on him. Sometimes, I see him passed out at work…please, what can I do?"
Parvati wiped her eyes with tissue, and nodded. In an effort to compose herself, she got up, walked behind her desk, and sat down. However, you could see that she wasn't too steady on her feet.
In an instant, Parvati seemed to lose whatever empathy she had with her patient, and put on that cool, aloof, therapist look. "Hermione, in your dreams, do you ever get past that last point?" she asked.
Hermione furrowed her brows in confusion. "Past what point?"
"Well," Parvati began, picking up her notepad and pen. "When you related the story to me, you ended it where Harry pushes you away, and is about to get hit by You-Know-Who's spell."
Hermione nodded, but then slowly began to shake her head. "No, I don't."
"Hmmm," Parvati rejoined, as she, like the clichéd therapist, scribbled into her notes.
"Everyday I sit around and wonder whether the threat of Voldemort is truly gone." Hermione said, her eyes going large and glassy. "I wonder whether Harry is really truly free of this burden. Sometimes, I wish that I could just sit with Harry in front of me all the time, so that I could be sure that he isn't in some mortal danger. It doesn't help that Harry has chosen the line of work that he has, and although I don't necessarily work in the same department as he does, I followed him into it in order to…watch over him."
Parvati nodded, while still scribbling some notes on her paper.
"I never go out in the rain; never. When it rains, I ask Harry to stay with me. I'm sure that this must irritate the hell out of him, but he never complains…"
"Well, it seems like you have him quite covered," Parvati said, not unkindly.
Hermione looked up, obviously confused.
"Well, you live with Harry, in order to protect him. You work with Harry, also in order to protect him. You keep him with you when it rains, because it reminds you of the rain during The Last Battle…"
"Yes, I know," Hermione interrupted.
"Tell me, Hermione, do you sleep with him?"
At that question Hermione jumped out of her chair as if it had electrocuted her. "WHAT? Sleep with him? Are you mad? No, I don't sleep with him, Harry is only my friend, we've never, I mean, we haven't…"
"Very well," Parvati said, scribbling some more notes. "Perhaps its about high time you did."
"WHAT?" Hermione exclaimed again. "Why, of all the insane things I've heard in my life…"
"Oh Hermione, don't get your feathers ruffled," Parvati said, trying to keep a stern demeanor. "Nobody is telling you to have sex with Harry. I just simply suggested that perhaps you two should sleep together."
Hermione nodded, though she had a confused expression on her face.
"It makes perfect sense, Hermione. You see, you seem to be quite ok when Harry is around. You aren't plagued with these…dreams or visions when you're with him, are you?"
Hermione shook her head. No, when Harry was around, she was indeed quite all right.
"So, if you want to get a decent night's sleep, I highly recommend that you try sleeping with Harry in the same room, perhaps even sleeping in the same bed, side by side. Maybe then you'd get this feeling that you're doing everything in your power to protect him, your dreams would stop."
Hermione's eyes widened, sudden understanding dawning.
"I'm not recommending this as a permanent thing," Parvati said, with an air that said that although she wasn't medically recommending it as permanent, in her opinion it should be permanent. "I think that in the time being, you'd both benefit from getting a good's nights sleep. In the interim, you should keep coming back to me, so that we can perhaps really get this psychosis fixed."
Hermione nodded, a sudden dread of going home and actually suggesting this experiment to Harry - or worse - Ron, overpowering her.
"Here," Parvati said, handing her a sheet of paper. "This is a prescription signed by me, for the setup, you know, in case someone in your house needs proof." She gave Hermione a knowing look, and Hermione took the paper.
Later that day, Hermione decided to cook a nice dinner to keep her mind off her visions, and the impending doom that lay before her, when she had to tell Harry, and Ron, about Parvati's "prescription."
She made a Cajun Gumbo, a recipe she received off her aunt Mary who married andAmerican journalist, and currently resides in Louisiana.
When the boys got home, they downed it hungrily, but Hermione barely touched it. As Hermione served them each a second helping, she decided to break the news.
"So, I went to see a therapist today," Hermione said, dreading what she had to say next.
"Thas gooood," Ron said, his mouth full of food. "Wha 'appened?"
"She told me that I should sleep with Harry."
At this, Ron spit out his food and looked at Hermione as if she had just sprouted seven heads.
Harry jumped out of his seat. "WHAT?"
"Harry, Ron…wait, calm down! She didn't mean it like that." She forced Harry to sit back down, and began pacing around the table.
"She meant that I should sleep with Harry, you know, sleep sleep," she babbled, "because apparently I don't get these insane visions and dreams when he's around, so if either of us wants to get a good night's sleep, we should sleep together."
Harry ran his hands through his hair; Ron sniggered. "Sleep is what you'd be getting, eh?"
Both Harry and Hermione glared at him. "Ron, how dare you…" Hermione began, but was quickly cut off by Harry.
"Its ok Hermione , I'll - ahem- sleep with you."
There was a long moment of silence in which the three of them looked at each other. Ron looked like he wanted to attack someone with his silverware; Harry was trying really hard not to look at Ron's silverware, and Hermione was silently thinking of spells to heal wounds caused by silverware.
At last, this tense moment was ended when Crookshanks jumped into Harry's lap and began rubbing his head against Harry's abdomen. Hermione smiled, and called him over to her. "That's his way of thanking you," Hermione told Harry, as she rubbed Crookshanks' belly. "He seems quite pleased I'll actually sleep tonight."
Ron snickered. Hermione ignored it, and Harry followed suit, deciding that ignoring was indeed the best policy.
"Who was the therapist you went to, anyways?" Ron asked, a look of resignation on his face.
"Parvati Patil," Hermione said amicably.
Ron rolled his eyes. "Figures."