Title: Somebody Out There (8/15)
Author: silverphoenix
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Summary: In the middle of a war, there are going to be casualties. This is inevitable. When two people lose their friends, they come to realise that death is not the end of happiness.
SOMEBODY OUT THERE
Part Eight: Your Hope
"Hermione?" Blaise pushed open the door to the bathroom of their flat; Hermione had never been one to dwell on her appearance, but she had already been in there for over an hour and he was worried about her.
She was sat on the tiled floor, back pressed against the bath. In her hand was a bottle of the Muggle aspirin that she insisted they kept in the flat for emergencies. A single pill lay in the palm of her trembling hand.
"What the hell are you doing?" Blaise demanded, wrenching the bottle away from her. Knocking her hand, the small white pill skittered across the floor. She made no effort to stop him, turning her face up to him, eyes wide and glassy. "How many did you take?"
"None," she said quietly. The witch tilted her head to one side thoughtfully. "I thought about it. I thought about it a lot, actually." Hermione looked at Blaise, who had sunk to the floor beside her and was now sitting cross-legged. "What would you do," Hermione said, "if you had just one little pill in your hand that could change everything?"
Blaise chose not to answer this question. "Were you going to kill yourself?"
"This is all too much for me," she said desperately, moving closer to Blaise. She put a hand on his chest, her eyes meeting his. "I never asked for any of this, Blaise. I never asked to be a witch; I never wanted to be a part of a war." She closed her eyes, a pained expression on her face. It was only then that Blaise realised he had stopped breathing. He let out a ragged breath as Hermione continued. "I'm losing hope that my life is going to go back to normal and I can't take it anymore!" Her voice became shrill. "I just want to let go!"
"And topping yourself is going to solve that, is it?" Blaise asked her harshly. "I'm not going to give you any sympathy." He shook the bottle sharply at her. "You don't deserve sympathy if you think about doing something like this."
"I don't want your sympathy," she snarled, backing away from his. He grabbed her arm, knowing that he was bruising her.
"Look at me, Hermione," he commanded, dropping the bottle of aspirin so that he could take a hold of her chin and force her to look at him. "You've got to throw those thoughts away before you make a big mistake. I get that you've lost control, Hermione, I really do, but you've got to get back on track."
Hermione bit her lip. "What if I can't?" she whispered fearfully.
"No matter how much your hope fades, Hermione, I'll be there for you."
"Promise?"
"Of course."
A solitary tear trickled down her cheek. "I feel so stupid." Blaise smiled wryly, pulling her into hug.
"Even the best people have their off days," he told her.
"Even you?" she teased, head buried in his shoulder.
"Even me."
