Salt in your wounds

LAST CHAPTER! But there is an epilogue so stay tuned; I'll have it up soon.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry potter or any of the other characters or the places or anything this plot is mine but that's about it anything that you recognise is not mine either, although I'm pretty sure there isn't much.

CHAPTER

Victory and Defeat

"Welcome to the Gryffindor verses Ravenclaw game, here come our teams, from Gryffindor the captain is Harry potter, an a mazing seeker who has only ever lost a match because of foul play or evil of another type, on the Ravenclaw team their captain is Andrew Martainson..." the voice of Seamus Finnegan floated over the stands and into the distance. Hermione stood alone on the edge of the tallest tower that Hogwarts had, she watched as the faceless figures flew into the sky circling the pitch once before heading to their positions, it was the last match of the year, the Quidditch final, it was nearly certain that Gryffindor would win. After all, Ravenclaw only got in by chance.

The crowds cheered loudly making it sound like thunder to Hermione, it was a constant roar that seemed to come up from the earth itself, but Hermione knew it wasn't real, it couldn't be real, it was just an artificial noise, brought one by crazed fans. She wanted to escape it all, be away from the curious looks, and the constant rules and lectures and memories. Why couldn't she just fly away like Buckbeak, vanish and never be found again. But even as she thought it, she knew it could never happen, she could never just fly away into the sunset, away from the world she knew and hated.

Again like all of the day before her mind filled with thoughts of Draco. Why did he have to leave her standing alone in the cold of the world?

To leave the world to it bitter sweet ending, forget all you've ever know, forget who you ever were, become no body, become the stranger who watches the passers by without a word said to any of them that's all she wanted.

Freedom has so many meanings; some think freedom is to be out in the open, away from the material world, other peoples freedom is to be able to roam alone, without guards and walls. But to Hermione, freedom meant to be a different person, to be away from the things she know, freedom would be to end it all and fly away to a place no one has ever heard of.

Let all the pain and anger you hold come out of you, that's why I do it, just because I'm so fucking pissed at life I take it out on myself, let me be in control of the pain for a while Hermione nodded gently to the wind, 'I understand, all I want is to be in control, but just as I think I'm getting in control, something happens that shouldn't.' Hermione thought bitterly in reply to Draco's explanation from so long ago.

A lot of things in this world shouldn't happen the gently voice and calming words rocked though her body; she remembered Draco's intense stare as he told her that.

'The only one that noticed was the only one that understood' her mind filled with memories of that welcome back feast, her two best friends caused her to re-live the worst time in her life and didn't even notice.

"Hey dad look at me, Think back and talk to me, Did I grow up according to plan, And do you think I'm wasting my time, Doing things I wanna do, But it hurts when you disapprove all along"

Hermione sang softly to herself, it was as though Draco's voice entwined with hers as she remembered how he had sung softly to himself as he walked the halls, his voice had been the same husky low as it always was, a sob escaped her lips and she skipped to the chorus just like Draco had done. She screamed the words sobbing lightly as Draco filled her mind.

"Cuz we lost it all, nothing lasts forever, I'm sorry I can't be perfect, now it's just too late, and we can't go back, I'm sorry I can't be perfect"

Hermione closed her eyes and pictured draco when he had saved her from her rapist, she had never felt so safe before, she had never felt such comfort, even when her parents were alive she had never felt that safe "nothings ever perfect draco, but you made it pretty dam close." She let a small smile creep to her lips before looking back at the Quidditch game, the commentary was drowned out my the steady roar of the crowds. "I wish I was that happy" she muttered to herself before thinking bitterly 'I wish, I fucking wish, what's the point in wishing, its never going to come true,' she laughed softly before raising her hands above her head and screaming as loud as she could. "I wish I could be happy! I wish I was free! I wish I could fly! And I fucking wish I could hold Draco one last time!" she let her hands fall to her side as she glared at her words as though they were written in the air.

She slowly lowered herself down to the edge, and lay on her back staring up at the perfect blue sky, she heard the low roar of the far off crowd, but yet she didn't move, she just continued to lie on her back watching the blue sky for signs of imperfection.

'Draco, to say that name to me eight years ago I would have asked who he was, to say that name to me five years ago I would have nearly burst to tears and scream that to him I was just a mudblood, to say that name to me a year ago I would have asked you "so what?" but to say his name to me now, I would smile and say "he taught me things I've never known" you would look at me strangely and wonder what he could have possibly taught the Gryffindor bookworm, if you were a fool you would ask me, but I would simply answer "he taught me to fly" you will wonder about my answer for a while before storing it in the back of you mind, to rediscover a year later, and once again you would ponder, what on earth I meant by that.

If you asked me what I wanted eight years ago, I would have smiled and said "I want to grow up and become a dentist" if you had asked me what I wanted five years ago, I would have said "I want to learn all I can" if you asked me what I wanted a year ago all I would have answered with was "I want to belong" but if you asked me what I wanted now, I would have looked right though you and said in barely more then a whisper "I want freedom" you would wonder what I mean, and if you were the fool you would ask me, but the only answer that you would receive would be "I want to be nothingness" you would wonder for a while what I meant by that statement, you would come to the conclusion that I shied away from fame and I didn't like all the attention I received for me smarts and achievements, how wrong you are.

If you asked me what I was afraid of eight years ago I would have shuddered and said "bats" if you had asked me what I was afraid of five years ago, I would have shrugged and said "failing" if you had asked me what I was afraid of a year ago, I would have looked away and said "loss" but if you asked me, what I am afraid of now, I would answer, "I'm not afraid of pain, I'm not afraid of death and I'm not afraid of life, because I have felt them all" but then you will wonder, how I could have felt death, if you were a fool you would ask me, but the only answer you will get is "you cannot live when your heart is in a grave" you would think about my answer for a while and store it away with my other answers and then a year would pass and you will be thinking over that answer, and that is when you realise, I never answered you question, I never told you what I fear. You will spend a week trying to find me to get a real answer, but I would have gone, I would finally have disappeared. And you would be left to ponder, what is it that I feared.

Time is such a strange thing, time can change so many things, time can break though an entire cliff, time can kill the strongest of men, and time can make hatred turn to loath, and loath turn to indifference, and then indifference turn to understanding and then understanding turn to love.'

The crowds roaring suddenly stopped and Hermione sat up slowly; the world was the same as it was five minutes ago, except that the roar had changed to a hushed whisper Hermione looked over to the Quidditch pitch and saw two of the black figures speeding towards the ground, one was further in front of the other and was reaching the ground at a phenomenal speed. At the last moment the figure pulled out of the dive and held his arm up into the air, a giant roar filled the sky; the very sound of the screams seemed to close in around Hermione. Eventually she heard the roar of the crowd lesson and there was a cheerful cry from Seamus Finnegan the commentator.

"GRYFFENDOR HAS WON! THE HOUSE CUP GOES TO GRYFFENDOR! THEY WIN! WE WIN!" Hermione didn't smile, she just watched as a huge crowd formed on the pitch welcoming the victors.

Hermione was filled with nothingness, how could she fell happiness for winning the house cup when she didn't feel she belonged to that house, that community, that 'family', she felt nothingness for the fact that Harry won the game again when all she could think about was how he never knew her, when she could read him like a book. Nothing seeped in because she didn't care anymore.

Hermione looked down at the ground below and saw the comforting grass below beckon her. She rose from her seat and stretched her hands to her sides, she closed her eyes and leant forward letting the wind wrap itself around her like a blanket, she heard someone screaming her name, but she remained still letting the ground come closer, the rush of air roared in her ears making the sound of the crowd seem like a whisper, she wanted to laugh out loud at the feeling of this, the feeling of having nothing around you, the feeling of flying.

A moment before she met the earth she felt strong arms wrap themselves around her small body, the arms pulled her up towards the person sitting astride a boom.

"Herm? Herm are you alright? Come on Hermione, wake up" the desperate voice of Harry came to her and she slowly opened her eyes, she looked up at the clear blue sky and noticed the single white cloud hovering above the school, she closed her eyes in defeat.

"Why did you save me Harry? Why didn't you let me be free?" Harry landed softly on the ground and walked quickly towards the school where a crowd of both teachers and students stood. He paused momentarily when he heard her question.

"You've always been free" he said with a hint of confusion in his voice.

Hermione sighed in defeat and let her exhausted body be carried to the hospital wing. 'They say suicide is the ultimate high' she thought to herself before letting herself drift into a light sleep.

Hermione lay motionless in her hospital bed, she stared at the sterile white ceiling and listened to the voices that were on the other side of the curtain that kept her separate from the rest of the patients, she had been like this for nearly three days, watching the shadows dance on the ceiling, nothing interesting happened, often madam Pomfrey would enter her section and she would pretend to be asleep, but late at night Hermione would let the silent tears fall down her face, as she thought of how close she had been to freedom, only to have it taken away at the last minute, she thought of all she lost, and all she had experience as she let the tears run free.

She hadn't slept since she was taken in here, but no one knew she listened to their conversations, no one knew she heard what they said about her.

"Are you sure this is the right thing to do poppy?" the caring and old voice of professor Dumbledore came thought the curtain.

"Yes, it is professor, who knows what else she is feeling, I saw her with that young Mr Malfoy once, she saw him with slit wrists, the sight must have traumatised her,

Besides, you yourself saw the marks on her face, and I can tell you those are not cat scratches, no matter how magical your cat is they are defiantly made by a human. And another thing, I was looked at her arm and I pulled out a couple of shards of mirror, and can you tell me how those got in there, because I know for sure that they and the cuts that are all over her hand and arm didn't appear by magic" madam Pomfrey seemed concerned about the girl that lay on the other side of the curtain, and professor Dumbledore was beginning to believe that something was wrong with the head girl that he had always believed to be so strong minded.

"But do you think it's the right thing, to send her to St. Mungos? I don't believe she is crazy" he was talking slowly as though evaluating the chances as he spoke.

"She isn't crazy, she just needs some help" slowly the curtain was pulled back and two figures looked at the seemingly sleeping figure in the bed.

"It's a terrible thing, she worked so hard to have the highest marks and she tried so hard to succeed, and she wont even be able to go to her own graduation" madam Pomfrey nodded wiping a tear away from her eyes. She breathed in deeply before going back into her office to write a letter to a healer who worked in the psychiatric ward of St. Mungos.

Hermione lay still listening to the goings on of the hospital wing, until the early hours of the morning when she was 'woken' by madam Pomfrey, before being taken away from Hogwarts with healers who thought they new how she felt.

A/N I'm not so happy with this chapter, it's alright but not perfect, I have some doubts. But Wow, last chapter besides the epilogue, all the UN answered questions will hopefully be answered in the next chapter. I hope you liked it, this chapter was mostly just her thoughts but it does have a couple of important point in it.

Well thanks my reviewers, you're all wonderful...

usagigreenleaf657 / DeepWaterAngel / mia / Samantha / Supreme Neo slytherin Countess / Ginger / Kat12 / witchiipooh / Hannah.xxx / elvinscarf / yanely1167 / Colette Stanford / Dark-Illusion1 / Dragonsayer541 / HauntedImmortal / really-big-HP-freak / Marcie / Sasha / dramaqueen72 / CD89 / loveally4287 / Katie / fourthiv / fantasy-princess09 / Gothhottie / nolightshiningthrough / Crying Pixie / Jo-Marie / Syren / phoenix-tear-11 /

toopol- because that's the way I write because I understand it

Brianna- the only reason why I keep 'repeating myself' is because sometimes when your depressed you cant just move forward, your plagued with memories of the past and its not just a matter of getting on with the story, you have to feel the pain of having these things continually come back to you, you cant put it behind yourself because to an extent its all you know.

maybeitsme15- the thing at the start of the last chapter was a poem by me