Watching all the students file out of the Great Hall, Hermione dawdled, needing a bit of peace and quiet before joining her fellow Gryffindors. She saw Ron and Ginny walking out together, obviously bickering about something and she smiled. Ron had grown up last year. She wasn't quite sure how or why, but he had. They had become very close, and had tried seeing each other for a bit, but they didn't have the spark. They had broken up in the most amazing way: a four hour conversation about life and love and secrets that had broken down the last walls between them. They were still not romantically inclined to each other, but occasionally they both needed the physical comfort of someone you trusted absolutely. They had decided not long after their breakup that from then on, Harry came first. Their new job for the next year or so was to give Harry whatever he needed. If he needed a serious talk, that's what he would get. If he needed a break, just time to laugh and be a kid, then that's what he would get. Harry was charged with saving the Wizardling world, and Hermione and Ron had taken it on themselves to take care of him as he prepared to do it.
Finally everyone was gone, and Hermione closed her eyes, and breathed deep. This was going to be the most difficult year yet. Even if she had learned not to overdue and was only taking 4 Advanced Subjects: Transfiguration, Charms, Arithmancy and Muggle Studies. Well, and her independent study of Ancient Runes. Oh, not to mention her 7th year project in Arithmancy. She grinned to herself as she rose gracefully and left the Great Hall to head to Gryffindor Tower. As she mounted the stairs, she tripped on something, and fell face first into the stairs. She was able to catch herself though, and no harm done, except for a few scratches on her palms. Picking herself up, she continued on, her mind already considering how she would schedule the rest of the term.
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Bushy hair sticking out in all directions, she rounded the corner as fast as she could, and lost her balance, her feet flying out from under her, her bag dragging her backward, but cushioning her fall. She landed squarely on her bum, and while it smarted, it wasn't anything to worry about when she was running late. Professor McGonagall might be her head of house, but she would deduct points if one of her students was late. This was not starting to be a good day. First, for some reason she could barely buckle her shoes, her fingers just felt weird this morning, and now this. Laughing at the picture she must present, Hermione picked herself up and continued on to Advanced Transfiguration, focusing on the difficult lesson today, transfiguring a sow's ear into a silk purse.
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Finally, finally, she had the bathroom to herself. Waiting for her roommate Parvati to finish getting ready for her date with Harry, was excruciating. Hermione had slipped on some mud coming from watching Harry and Ron's Quidditch practice. She had applied cleaning charms, but they weren't quite as effective as they used to be. In fact, most of her magic wasn't quite working like it used to. She needed some time to ponder this, but she rarely had a moment. A long hot shower sounded like a wonderful way to relax and help her mind wrap around this latest problem. It was most likely stress, with everything she was trying to juggle. Harry had made a couple of comments in the past week about what a shame it was that she and Ron had broken up. She'd told her red-haired friend, and they'd decided to give it another go… or at least pretend to, for Harry's sake.
She needed some time to process everything, to settle it all in her mind. And this shower would help her do that. As Parvati finished up and left their shared room, Hermione gathered her toiletries and stepped into the bathroom. She felt a wave of dizziness come over her again, and she sat down heavily on the toilet so she wouldn't fall over. She started the water running and let her brain empty as the bathroom filled with steam. Disrobing, she stepped into the nearly scalding water, letting it run over her body, reveling in the wet heat cascading down her back, enveloping her.
She leaned against the wall, letting the wall support her as she stood there, her muscles relaxing at the heat she was now surrounding herself with. Suddenly, something shifted, and she was falling, her hands flailing as she tried to catch herself. She tried to grab hold of the towel rack, but her fingers just wouldn't close around it. Hermione's eyes were wide with panic as she fell, and her body finally cooperated as she was just able to catch herself before she knocked her head against the side of the stall as she fell out of the shower and onto the bathroom floor. Breathing heavily, fear still in her eyes, she just knelt there, shivering, as the water continued to run. Hermione just didn't understand why she was suddenly so clumsy.
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'Bloody hell! Ron will hex me if I'm late again!' Hermione thought to herself, putting on another burst of speed as she ran up the stairs to her dorm room. They were supposed to meet up in the Astronomy Tower, but Hermione had lost track of time in the library researching origins of modern Runes. She and Ron had a 'date' in the Astronomy tower, for some quality time together. Ron tried real hard to understand her intellectual needs, but as a boyfriend, he felt he should at least be equal to words on paper, no matter how magical the words were.
They really were trying again, for Harry's sake. He seemed so happy that they were back together. He needed a bit of happiness this year, and they were determined to give it to him. Hermione's mind on her two best friends and her 'boyfriend', she caught her toe on a stairstep, and pitched forward. A shout of startlement escaped her as she automatically brought her arms up to catch herself, but something went wrong, and she landed directly on her right wrist, pain shooting up her arm as she felt and heard the bones crack under the strain. She ended up kneeling, face down on the stairs, blinking the tears of pain out of her eyes, as she tried to catch herself.
'I should go to the Hospital Wing. But I need to meet Ron first.' she thought clearly. She wondered why she was so calm, then realized she must be in shock. Gingerly, she raised herself off the steps, biting back another cry of pain as she accidently jostled her wrist. Eyes bright with supressed tears, she very calmly decended the stairs of the dorm again, and headed off to the Astronomy tower to meet Ron.
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It had been another long day, with both Advanced Transfigurations and Advanced Charms. She was having problems with both. She thought her wrist was keeping her from using her wand arm correctly. She could see how to move it, but she couldn't seem to repeat the motion correctly. It was driving her nuts.
Though she had just spent a few enjoyable hours talking with Ron. Tonight was one of those conversations they seemed to have, where they layed their souls bare with each other, and both sought and gave comfort. They weren't working. They both knew they weren't. But Harry was so happy. They didn't know how to tell him. They knew they had to, though, so they had decided on the next day, to sit Harry down and explain that they were better off as friends. Hermione sighed and stared into the bathroom mirror, her flyaway hair, her hazel eyes, lips that were, in her estimation, entirely too thin. It was no wonder that Ron wasn't attracted to her. Closing her eyes against the sudden flash of pain she saw reflected, she turned away, intending to finish changing for the night, then to head to bed and have a good self-pitying cry.
She never got the chance, because as she turned away from the mirror, her knee collapsed suddenly and without warning pitching her forward. She tried to catch herself, but for some reason her arms did not raise, and her head hit the stone wall with a sickening crunch, and the world went black.
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Hermione couldn't wait to get to the Quidditch game, oddly enough. It was a beautiful fall day, though, and she'd never been closer to Ron and Harry, after the conversation they'd all had after she got out of the Hospital wing. Things were never better between the Dream Team, once they'd all been honest with each other.
Suddenly she felt strong arms encircle her waist from behind, and she was lifted up to the sound of a male laugh. She laughed knowing there was only one male who would do that to her. "RON!" She squealed.
She was gently placed back on her feet, and she turned around to give him a playful slap on the chest.
"How'd you know it was me?" Ron asked cheekily, giving the patented Weasley grin.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "I wonder... " She laughed then, as her friend tried to look innocent and failed utterly. She glanced at the clock, and let out a small squeek of suprise. "Ron, you're gonna be late!"
The tall red head looked over at the clock as well, his eyes wide as he saw what it said, "Late for the game!" He dropped a chaste kiss on her cheek and turned to run out of the common room, throwing a "See you at the game, 'Mione!" over his shoulder as he left.
She smiled fondly at him and headed off to the girls dorm to get her Gryffindor scarf before the game. Before she had taken two steps though, she found herself again flying through the air, her chest coming down hard on the side of the coffee table, before smashing her face against the corner. 'OUCH! That's gonna leave a mark.' she thought angrily. 'Well, dammit, I'm not going to let this ruin another day, I'm going to go to the game and enjoy myself!'
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It had been a week since the Quidditch game. Where she had shown up to the game, not knowing that her latest fall had given her one hell of a nasty looking shiner. People had stared, and it wasn't until Ginny said something that she had realized how bad she looked. Since that awful day, she'd fallen twice in the shower, once again on the stairs, and more times than she could count in the library. She had cracked her tailbone, and her skin was covered with bruises in various stages of healing. She could find no Muggle reason for this. She hadn't had a growth spurt, she wasn't ill, everything was fine with her nervous system, nothing was going on, non-magically. Magically, however, she was at a loss as to how to even check if she were under the influence of magic.
Hermione knew where she could go to ask, but what was she going to say? "Professor McGonagall, I'm falling down all the time, can you see if someone cursed me?" That would go over well. So where to go, but the library. Which had its own dangers. At least she could minimize those dangers. Now she was in her bed, trying to go over all she would have to do to keep herself safe. She wouldn't fall asleep for a long time.
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Falling off the bed, she screamed in pain as she felt her wrist break... again.
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Nose stuck in a book about curses, Hermione sits down, misjudging where the chair is, her head hits the back of the chair, and her knee twists in a way it shouldn't.
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Reaching up to replace a book about voodoo, she loses her balance and falls against the bookcase, knocking her forhead against a shelf and spraining her wrist.
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She had gotten too many books. Hermioned walked back to the table very slowly, hoping that this time she'd keep her balance. She rounded the corner, coming out from the stacks, and sighed in relief. At that moment, she did lose her balance and fell to the ground in a tangle of books and flying limbs. By this time, she could tell by the pain what was broken and what was just sprained or strained. 'Thank goodness nothing's broken.', she thought to herself. And then it all came crashing in. She truly realized what was going on with her, that she was starting to look at a day without a broken bone as a good day.
It was all suddenly too much for her, and without preamble, she started crying silently, her shoulders moving, the pain of her latest back injury underscoring the grief. She had no control over her body anymore. She could barely keep up with the practicals in Advanced Charms and Transfiguration. She was doing okay in Arithmancy, but she was in so much pain she wasn't sleeping well, and that was affecting her ability to work the equations. Her life was going to hell in a handbasket, and she didn't have the first clue how to stop it.
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She stared at the book with resentment. It was laying there on the floor where she had knocked it off the table by accident. She knew, just knew, that she'd get hurt. But she couldn't leave it there. Not only could she just let a book stay on the floor, she couldn't take the chance that Madame Pince would know it was one of the books she had and ban her from the library. It was her only solace these days. The rumor mill had gotten out of control, the most common rumor being that she was being abused. And the person most often cast in the role of her abuser was Ron. Ron, her best friend, Ron who she had partially confided to, the first time she had withheld anything from him. She just couldn't admit that she was completely at a loss as to the origin of what was going on. She let Ron believe she was just researching the cure. So he had appointed himself her "protector" and was with her as often as he could, using his strength to keep the injuries from mounting. That didn't keep the students from whispering behind their backs everytime Hermione showed up with another injury.
She glared at the book, wishing it back on the table. She couldn't even levitate it there, as the last time she had tried that, with a small figurine that had amazingly survived its crash to the floor, it had flown directly at her head, and gave her another goose-egg on her temple. Taking a deep breath, she decided there was no choice. She was going to have to pick up the book. Hermione got on all fours, and crawled over to it, so she'd be that much closer to the ground.
With a triumphant smile she closed her hand around the book, and tried to rock back on her heels. Unfortunately, she rocked back too far, and in a mad rush to keep her from tumbling over backwards, she threw herself foward, striking the side of her nose against the corner of the table, and falling over sideways, only to see her bookbag tumble over the side, barely missing her head, but the straps smacked her in the face, and she felt the sharp pain in her lip that told her she'd been cut. Hermione lay there, bleeding, blinking back the tears. They'd never believe her. Never in a million years.
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With a wrench, Professor Snape pulled himself out of her mind, and immediately barked "Accio penseive" to record what he had seen in her mind. He brought his wand up to his temple, then moved it to the bowl, the silvery wisps of thought entering the bowl with an eerie silence. As much as he'd seen in his days as a Death Eater, the temerity she had shown in not giving up, and not giving in to what was happening to her astounded him. It wasn't usual to find such strength of character in one so young.
He looked at the young woman on the bed before him, trying to process all he had seen and felt in his time in Miss Granger's mind. If only... no, regrets would serve no purpose. He watched as her eyes opened, the hazel eyes that were so filled with pain before, which now held not only pain, but humiliation, embarassment, anger, and a myriad of other emotions. She was such a typical Gryffindor with those eyes.
The mood was broken when Albus layed a hand on Severus' shoulder. "We'll take over from here, Severus, after all you have such important things to tend to." Albus couldn't help but tease him a bit, his beard twitching as he tried to supress a grin.
Professor Snape gave a long suffering sigh and couldn't help but roll his eyes. "If you will excuse me, then, Albus, Minerva, Poppy. I'm sure you will be able to handle the contents of Miss Granger's particularly intense brand of Gryffindor courage and foolhardiness." He nodded crisply to those assembled, and swept out of the hospital wing.
