A/N: This one's for hand3, who reviewed BOTH of my stories and made me feel incredibly good J You made my day, thank you, love. And yet another smile for Lanna who graciously reviewed the last chapter as well and made me smile…I think we all do the 'Look it's a bear!' and run thing…I assume Hermione is no different.
Here's the next chapter, lickety split since I got reviews!
::Blush:: so I skipped a chapter when uploading…go back and read the newly uploaded chapter 8!
Hermione sat in the black leather chair and crossed her legs demurely. She wore a long blue skirt and white tank top and her hair was loose and flowing in chaotic curls.
"Hello Hermione, my name is Elena." The woman who sat across from her was built like a dancer, all lean muscle and well-defined lines. Her skin was a dark, smooth, cocoa color and her hair was pulled into a bun. She wore a demure blue dress that reflected brilliantly against her skin. Elena's voice was smooth, rich, and musical. A perfect therapist's voice.
"Hi."
"I've been told that you just went through a very traumatic experience."
"Yes."
"Will you elaborate for me, please?"
"I was kidnapped, raped, and tortured."
"And now you're back in the real world."
"Yes."
"How do you feel about that?"
"Grateful, I suppose. Glad to be alive."
"Angry at the bastard who did it to you?"
"Naturally."
"This will be somewhat easier if you work with me, Hermione," Elena sighed.
"Why, so I can engage in some putrid sobbing fest that 'cleanses' me of my pain and grief? Hardly."
"No, so you can face him down and annihilate him one day and never have to think about it again."
"Now that is a goal worth working for."
"And so that you won't have issues if and when you decide to take a lover again. So that what he did to you doesn't consume you."
"So how exactly do I work with you?"
Elena smiled. "I think you're more of a compartmentalizer, so I'm going to give you a real task." She pulled out a leather journal. "You're going to write how you feel in the book. Just whatever you remember, whatever strikes you. Feel free to go off on tangents. Every day we're going to talk."
"Are you going to read the journal?"
"No. If you want me to read excerpts I will, but it's mainly for you."
"This is going to be damned near impossible isn't it?"
"Yes, I'm afraid it will."
"I…I feel like maybe I'm making a mistake."
"By being here?"
"No, no. In any case it's not like I have a choice about being here. But that's not it. There's a man…he's been helping me…and I…I think I'm developing feelings for him. But I'm afraid they're not real. Like maybe I'm developing them only because of what happened. I always found him attractive, but…"
"Perhaps you believe these feelings are fake, in a way?"
"Yeah."
"They're probably not. But I wouldn't jump into a relationship right now anyways. You're recovering from a traumatic experience. I'd give it at least a year."
"Right."
"Is he a good man?"
"Yes, but there are other…complications. He's a bit older. Like more than ten years older. And he's a father figure to some of my friends, I think. Or maybe an older brother figure. Not to me obviously. I don't know, I think there's going to be some disapproval. And he used to be my professor."
"Wow, those are some obstacles. But you didn't really answer my question. Is he a good man?"
"Yes. He's a great man. He's kind and gentle and intelligent. His soul is beautiful."
"That's what matters, Hermione. You can overcome the other problems."
"But are the feelings real?"
"Ask me at the end of this, hm?"
"Yeah. I guess." Hermione took a deep breath.
"My name is Hermione Jane Granger and I'm a seventeen year old student. I was kidnapped by a psychotic bastard named Dayrin Lestrange. Over the course of three weeks he raped me and tortured me before I was rescued. For three more weeks I recovered at the house of my professor Severus Snape, who has also taken on the role of my legal guardian since my parents died. He's the closest thing to a father I have. For the last day or so I've been staying with Remus Lupin, a former professor of mine, and some other individuals associated with the school."
"How did you feel when you realized you had been captured?"
So it began. They spoke for hours till the sun began to set. Hermione had not cried once, but felt immensely better.
"You've done fabulously, Hermione. I'll see you again tomorrow. Before we meet again, while you write, may I make a suggestion?"
"Of course."
"Listen to Concerto for Harp and Orchestra in B flat major, opus 4, number 6. Don't do anything specific, just listen to it while you write, okay? It's track four on this disc, do you have a cd player?"
"Yes, I do. I'll see you tomorrow, Elena. Thank you for everything."
They hugged and parted ways.
Hermione arrived back at the headquarters and entered tiredly. Therapy takes a lot out of a girl, I tell ya. All I need is sleep. She walked into the kitchen to grab a snack and saw Dumbledore sitting at the table with Remus, Molly and Arthur Weasley, Tonks, Mad-Eye Moody, Snape, McGonagall, Hagrid, and Bill Weasley.
"Well, the gang's all here," Hermione commented. "Is there a reason for this festive group?"
Hagrid burst into tears and McGonagall got misty. Hermione looked at Snape and Remus questioningly.
"I believe it's his way of saying he's glad to see you," Snape said dryly.
"I figured as much," she replied with a smile. "I'm glad to see you too, Hagrid. I'm glad to see all of you."
"How are you feeling, Hermione?" Albus asked with a twinkle.
"I'm doing quite well, actually. How are all of you?" she asked politely, as she leaned on Remus' chair heavily. He stood and ushered her into the chair, nodding at the grateful smile she flashed him. Remus moved aside as Snape came to stand behind her, resting his hands gently on her shoulders.
He's getting attached to me! I knew it! Hah! He couldn't fight it forever…
"We are fine. All of us wished to see you, to ensure that you were in good health. How was your session with Elena?"
"It went well, I think. A muggle therapist?"
"Yes, they seem to be a bit more effective than wizard therapists. A cultural difference, I believe."
"Ah, makes sense. Is there another reason that you're here?" I know you didn't gather to see if I'm fine. There's an ulterior motive.
"Actually, there is," Dumbledore said kindly. "I wished to know if Lestrange revealed anything to you in the course of your incarceration that could prove useful to us." Aha. Score one for cynicism.
"Not really. They had three questions for me that they asked incessantly: where are you hiding Harry Potter, what is the grand plan to defeat Voldemort, and are there spies in their ranks. I didn't answer any of them, considering I didn't know the answer to at least one of them and wouldn't tell him if I did. Other than that, it was me, Dayrin, and a lot of hours in a day."
"I'm so sorry you had to go through that, Hermione," Dumbledore said gently.
She shrugged. "Life happens, doesn't it? I'm alive. That's what matters."
"You're a hero, child," came Minerva McGonagall's brogue.
"In what way? I saved no one and did nothing remarkable. I simply survived. Draco and Professor Snape are the heroes: they risked everything to help me; to keep me sane. I just shut up and didn't give the answers to some questions. For once."
Snape snorted and Remus and Bill Weasley chuckled.
"How can you crack jokes at a time like this?" Molly asked tensely.
"How can I not? Do you honestly think I survived being raped, beaten with a whip, crucio'd, burnt, and all manner of other things by thinking happy thoughts about the people I love? Hardly. I thought scathing, biting, cynical thoughts about my captors and the universe and came up with plentiful ideas about how I would make them suffer before I killed them one day. I thought funny, ironic thoughts about my situation, and I laughed and the universe's sense of humor. The know-it-all being punished for being silent. It was quite funny at the time. In general I just thought inappropriate thoughts and had inappropriate conversations with myself and none of it was inappropriate because I was hanging from the ceiling half-naked and barely conscious without fingernails and toenails and very little is inappropriate in that situation."
The room fell silent at her speech. Remus and Snape looked at her understandingly, while Albus had a somewhat sad look on his face. McGonagall's face was drawn and severe, and Molly looked stricken. Tonks looked surprised; to her left, Bill and Arthur Weasley looked mournful. Mad-Eye Moody was impassive and Hagrid began to cry once more. Hermione sighed and closed her eyes, feeling the reassuring pressure of Snape's hands on her shoulders. He kneaded them briefly as she steeled herself.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Weasley. You didn't deserve that. I'm just tired and irritable. I spent the day rehashing the worst experience of my life with someone I don't really know and I'm just on edge, I suppose. Not that it's any excuse for being so rude."
Molly stood up and walked over, enveloping her in a hug. "Never apologize for something like this, child. You've been through so much in so short a time, and you've remained so strong. You're a model for us all and we respect you so very much for your endurance and courage and loyalty."
Hermione hugged her tightly and briefly then rose. "I'm so sorry, but I really am exhausted and I'm supposed to write in this bloody journal by tomorrow. Goodnight, everyone." Pajamas…ugh…so tired…cannot deal with multiple adults…
Severus followed her from the room and touched her shoulder. Hermione turned and smiled at him.
"Penny for your thoughts, oh sphinx-like one?"
"Please do not overexert yourself Miss Granger. You're still far more damaged than you think."
"I'm almost healed."
"The scar tissue on your back has ridged against your spine, indicating that you will require far more extensive treatment to heal it. Three of your ribs are still mending after having been broken into so many pieces it was easier to just regrow them. There are still fragments of bone in your chest cavity that must be dealt with. Your right kneecap is perpetually swollen having been bashed in three times. The fingers of your right hand tingle from infection and blood redistribution. The muscles in your wrists have slightly atrophied. Shall I continue?"
"No, Severus, I do not think that will be necessary," said Dumbledore from the doorway. "Miss Granger, I had no idea you were so injured. I shall ask Madam Pomfrey to pay you a visit. Please, rest as much as possible before your session tomorrow."
"Yes, sir. Goodnight." She hugged Snape tightly for a moment, had a silent conversation with Remus, and proceeded to her room.