Salt in your wounds
Disclaimer: for the final time this story I will say this... I don't own Harry potter, or any of the characters used, if I did, I'd be rich :D but since I don't, I'm not and fan fiction will have to do..
I also don't own the song she sung at the end of the story, it is... "Okay I believe you but my Tommy gun don't" and its by 'brand new'
CHAPTER
Epilogue
Hermione sat on the edge of her cot, the harsh grey blanket was rough against her legs. And the flimsy grey dress she was made to wear wasn't for the purpose of keeping her warm, but for the mere job of keeping her covered.
Her room was made of stone and was painted a spotless white; it was kept warm by charms and spells, so it was the ideal temperature all year round.
The only other piece of furniture in the room besides the bolted down cot in the middle of the floor was a toilet and basin, concealed behind a light curtain in the corner of the room.
Opposite her bed was a mirror that covered the top half of the wall, some would say the necessity of a mirror in a mental patients room wasn't very high, but to the smartest witch that Hogwarts had the honour of schooling knew that the mirror wasn't there to let her see herself but for the soul purpose of keeping her watchers hidden, it was like the bars in the zoo, it was what kept her from the outside world.
All Hermione ever wanted was to be free, but she was just put in a cage like an animal.
At night when the clutter and noise had stopped outside her room she could hear the low murmur of the Medi witches voices on the other side of the wall, it was deep rhythmic noise that seemed to grow louder as the night wore on and in the end it would fill her head like a jack hammer.
The only other voices she heard were that of the overly cheerful Medi witch that would come in a couple of times a day and give her some food before placing charms and spells all over her "to make you all better again". Didn't she realise that Hermione wasn't sick? Didn't she realise there was nothing wrong with her except that she understood a whole lot more then anyone else?
The other voice she heard was that of an old wizard, he would come by the ward most days and offer Hermione books from his cart. Each time she would ask if he had 'Hogwarts: a history' and each time he would smile and shake his head.
At the start he had always offered her other books, but they were always about smiling, happy people who go to the beach, on bright sunny days.
Each time he would come by she would give him a hopeful look, but each time he would smile sadly at her and shake his head.
After the first month of her being admitted into the hospital the old man would stay longer and they would talk as though they were old friends, about all the books they've read and the places they'd been. And for those five minutes Hermione felt normal again, she felt like she was back in the outside world, sitting under a tall tree in a park talking about all the things she loved.
But that would all be shattered when the Medi witch came in giving the wizard a stern look before going about her duties, and he would smile guiltily and leave giving Hermione a sly wink as he closed the door.
At night in the stone room, you're left with nothing. There are no distractions and all you have to entertain yourself with is your own thoughts. 'If you weren't mad when you came in, you'd defiantly end up like that.' the book man once said when he asked her what it was like in here, all Hermione did was smile and nod.
But for Hermione, her thoughts are where she belonged; the real world had hurt her too often for her to find comfort there.
The quiet is the most dangerous thing in the world; thoughts of Draco, her parents, even tom Shillington riddled her mind, and once again Hermione couldn't sleep without those terrible memories coming back to her. That fear and that pain were the only things that filled her.
She had tried not to sleep but images of Draco's beautiful body mangled and bruised filled her mind whenever she closed her eyes, even for a second.
Inside her, she was breaking; she was a broken soul that had no welcome thoughts, no biting wit, just a shell of what she once was. A shell that in time will break and she will be nothing, a meaningless figure that has useless spells and charm thrown at her to try and help, but never doing a thing.
Soon the old mans visits stopped and Hermione was left once again. The silence and the absent presence soon brought her to breaking point.
The cheerful voice of the Medi witch filled the room, but Hermione didn't move, her food was placed on the bed next to her but Hermione didn't reach for it. The witch simply continued with her work, and Hermione watched her thought the mirror. But finally Hermione's curiosity got the better of her and her voice echoed off the walls.
"Where is the old man? The one that brought the books around" the witch looked up from the bed covers and looked directly at Hermione, wondering if she had spoken or if she had just imagined it. Hermione raised an eyebrow expectantly but didn't smile; the nurse plastered a large toothy smile on her face before going back to work.
"I'm sorry dear but he died, he was rather old after all," Hermione nodded and went back to staring at the mirror, willing it to disappear and reveal the people behind it.
She heard some spells being muttered, some she knew, the others she'd read about, but still she remained lifeless, almost as though she was dead herself.
The sound of retreating footsteps that were followed by a small shriek brought her out of her trance. Footsteps came towards her and her view was soon destroyed by the Medi witch standing in front of her.
Hermione looked up and smiled a true smile, the first for so long. On the Medi witches face the words as clear as day "give it to her" were written in large red boils. Hermione herself had used a variation of this spell in fifth year. The witch however did not look amused and for the first time she didn't have a large fake smile on her face.
"The old man left you this" she said briskly before turning and storming away to go and get her face cleared.
Hermione looked down at the heavy book in her hands; she smiled once more as she read the title to herself.
"Hogwarts: a history" she opened the cover and saw on the title page a small note written in neat scratchy handwriting.
"I'm sorry I couldn't give this to you in person. But I did say I would get you this book and I am a man of my word. I still don't share your views that this is the best book ever written but I respect your claim. I hope this will keep you entertained and kept from madness in the long nights. Remember that your passion for the written word is real, and never lose that. Safety can be found in the smallest of things.
Yours sincerely
The bookman."
Hermione looked sadly at the small note, 'another one gone' she thought to herself, the only person in this place that understood some aspect of her was gone. Hermione placed the large book under her pillow before lying down and falling into her first dreamless sleep, since the night with draco.
The foyer of St. Mungos was crowded with all sorts of people, as Harry entered the foyer, a knot in his stomach clenched as he realised he was actually going to see her, it had been nearly three months since he last saw his best friend, three months since she jumped from the astronomy tower into his arms. He heaved a heavy sigh and walked towards the front desk, the witch greeted him with a flirtatious smile he gave her a cool half smile in reply, "how do I get to the psychiatric ward, I'm a visitor and its my first time I've had to go there" the witch nodded and showed him directions on a magical map, Harry nodded his thanks and walked down the corridors each step bringing him closer to Hermione.
Harry breathed in deeply trying to rid himself of the voice at the back of his mind screaming 'go back, turn away!' he closed his eyes briefly before looking down at the number scribbled on his hand. "Room 309" he whispered he looked back down the seemingly endless corridor, "come on Harry, you can do this" he said to himself thinking 'well I'm in the right place to start talking to myself' slowly his feet started taking him down the long corridor, at each door Harry would look at the name on a small plastic name tag and number, "room 307, Room 308 and..." Harry stood in front of the white door; it had no window like some of the others did, the only thing on the pure white door was the number, and under that, the name of the patient.
Harry swallowed hard, it was like it had all suddenly became real, "and room 309, Hermione granger" Harry slowly traced her name, and he remembered his strong willed friend from school, the same girl that did the research for all his adventures, and helped him pass all those years of Hogwarts.
The door opened and Harry looked up into the eyes of one of the many Medi witches.
"Mr. Potter?" Harry nodded numbly, 'what could he say?' "Follow me please" once again he nodded and followed the nurse into a dark room.
On one wall was a large window looking into Hermione's room, she was staring intently at the window, she didn't smile, her face was empty, it was like she wasn't entirely there, and she had lost weight and was paler then usual.
"Can she see us?" Harry whispered cautiously, the witches shook their heads and let Harry step closer to the glass. His friend of seven years stared back at him, but no, she wasn't looking at him, she wasn't looking at anything anybody else could see. "Can I go in to see her?" The Medi witches looked at each other before nodding slowly in reply.
The eldest witch lead him though the dark room into another, this one was painted white and was empty except for a door, the witch gestured to the door.
"We will be right on the other side of the glass, we will come in if you need anything or if she-" she cut herself off and smiled opening the door for him, not finishing her sentence.
Inside the room there was nothing special, the only thing that seemed of any interest was the small girl sitting on the edge of the bed. When the door closed she didn't move, she just continued to stare at the mirror, Harry walked slowly around so he was facing her, she had a vacant stare and didn't seem to notice his arrival, slowly he bent down so his face was level with hers. Hermione shifted her gaze so she was looking intently into Harry's eyes, he immediately regretted his position and he quickly glanced over her shoulder, just to look away from those chocolate brown eyes that belonged to his friend not this stranger that sat before him.
His sudden action amused Hermione and she let the tiniest of smiles form on her face.
"So... err, herm. How have you been?" Hermione surveyed the room around her, then looked back at Harry directly in his eye but never saying a thing. "Well I guess the accommodations not the best"
No answer
"I was really sorry you couldn't come to the graduation, it wasn't the same without you"
No answer
"I was hoping they'd let you come, but they didn't think it was a good idea" still there was no answer, Harry relaxed a bit, if he continued like this she would eventually break down. "So I guess you haven't heard, Ron's getting married" he paused "err, to Pavarti, I guess she was serious, unlike lavender" a hint of bitterness flared in his eyes, catching the attention of Hermione.
"Merlin Harry, it's been three months. Get over it, after all that's one month longer then you expected me to get over my parents death" she stressed the last word. Harry shifted uncomfortably. A moment passed in silence, Harry sat looking around the room trying to think of something to say, when finally the question that had been itching away at him finally broke though and he couldn't stop himself from asking.
"Why'd you do it Hermione?" Hermione looked back into his eyes.
"Why does anybody do anything?" Harry felt all the self consciousnesses disappear and was replaced with old comfort, after all this was just Hermione.
"That's not an answer, why'd you do it? You nearly-" Harry stopped talking, Hermione leaned forward so she was close to Harry's face
"Died? I nearly died? Come on Harry, you're a big boy, you can say the 'D' word." All the bitterness she felt towards him came out, he seemed to sense this but didn't back down.
"FINE! You could have died Hermione you could have died! Happy? Why Hermione? Why?" Hermione leaned back and stared intently at him.
"That was sort of the point. To die. To end it" bitterness ran though her voice and sent a chill down Harry and the watching Medi witches spins.
"Hermione, you were happy, what made you want to do it?" Hermione closed her eyes and rolled her head back so she was facing the ceiling.
"life Harry, life" a small smile appeared on her face as she thought about draco and his drawings, about the time they spent together, that was living, but life can ruin so many things.
"Life? Bloody hell Hermione maybe you are mad, I always defended you at school when people said you were mad, but now I'm beginning to think I was wrong" Harry stood up and moved towards the door when a small voice broke though his mind. He turned and faced the source.
"It hurts doesn't it Harry? The fact that you can't save every one. You try so hard to save the world but maybe you should just take more notice of the people around you once in a while, you could have saved me Harry then move onto the hundreds strangers that you keep trying to save." Harry looked in shock at the girl sitting in front of him.
"I'm not trying to save the world Hermione" Hermione just nodded mutely, but a flicker of anger was in her eyes.
"You think it's your responsibility to defeat Voldemort but its not, your not alone, your never alone. You save so many people but you don't think of saving your friends. We're not all prophesised about like you Harry, some of us do get hurt by things." Harry kneeled down in front of her and placed a reassuring hand on her knee.
"If you had asked me to help I would have" Hermione brushed his hand off and looked away from his emerald eyes.
"Would you have listened?" Harry looked down at his hand that had been flicked away.
"Of course I would have listened! I'm your best friend I would have listened; you didn't have to go behind my back and fraternise with my enemy. And yours" Hermione rolled her eyes and looked back at the boy sitting in front of her, that's all she saw him as, a boy who plays like a grown up.
"I wasn't fraternising with him. We talked we were friends and he understood what I was going though, unlike you Harry we don't all have the most powerful wizard Dumbledore watching out backs." Harry stood up quickly as though his anger was burning holes in his knees.
"Understand? He couldn't understand a muggle if he tried! The closest he ever got to one was blowing their brains away!" Hermione also stood, she wasn't as tall as him but she couldn't just sit there and let him insult Draco.
"He wasn't like that! He had spent the summer with muggles and neither of them died by his hand" Harry let out a laugh.
"Yeah that's his story, how do you know it's the truth?" Hermione looked coldly up into the eyes of the boy her once considered her closest friend.
"Because I've seen the scars, I've seen the pain he went though. He understood me and he was helping me deal, but his bastard father killed him before we could run away" Hermione choked back a lump in her throat, not letting herself cry. Harry quickly looked away from the steel stare that Hermione had. He glared at the wall angrily as though it was entirely its fault.
"You weren't dealing?! You were fucking your enemy and then jumped off a tower. That's not dealing Hermione that's suicide" Hermione let out a laugh before sitting down.
"Would you have preferred I took up drinking? Maybe drugs? Not everything is about good and bad, not everything is about life and death, sometimes what is life seems like death and what is wrong is enviably right." Harry ran his fingers though his hair roughly before looking down at his crazy friend.
"That doesn't make sense! What's right is right and what's wrong is wrong! Its as simple as that!" Hermione rolled her eyes and glared up at Harry.
"Not everything is so bloody black and white; there are thousands of shades or grey in between." She paused for a moment to let the words sink in, before asking her own question "Have you ever wondered why people cut themselves?" Harry let at a snort of laughter before kneeling down and looking at her. 'I might as well play along' ran though his mind.
"No. enlighten me" Hermione leaned forward so she was an inch away.
"They do it because it hurts, but its not the same as simply spraining your ankle or getting a bruise, this pain isn't from the outside world, its from within, you are in control and you could make it stop if you so wanted. Pain from the outside world wont just leave scars on the outside, it leaves them on the inside as well, but when you cut yourself, your setting them free, your slowly cutting away those painful scars on the inside." Harry looked at her in silence for a moment before standing up.
"There's a difference between jumping from the tallest tower and giving yourself a couple of scars." Hermione looked intently at Harry, moments passed in silence but neither moved; soon Hermione broke the silence and filled the room with her whisper.
"Have you ever been depressed Harry?" Harry looked at her and smiled.
"Sure, everyone has but they don't jump of a building" Hermione rolled her eyes again.
"I don't mean depressed like your broom got mulched by the womping willow, I mean depressed were you don't care wether you live or die, were you don't care what happened to you because the sad thing is you've experienced worst, no matter where you go you still hurt, it doesn't matter who you surround yourself with it still hurts, no matter how much you've laughed that day you still cry yourself to sleep every night" Harry looked at her, and for the first time wondered what she had been though.
"No, I haven't" he said in barely more then a whisper. Hermione smiled, it wasn't fake, and it wasn't real and full of emotion, it was heartless like she didn't care.
"well I have, and even now I still feel it, no matter how many half-ass spells you throw at me it isn't getting better" Harry placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
"It is helping, just give it time." Hermione shrugged off his hand and glared, she shouted loud enough for the people in the adjoined room to hear.
"I DON'T WANT TO BE HERE HARRY! I don't want to 'get better' you stopped me from getting the one thing I wanted and now you come here telling me that all this shit is what I need? I don't want this Harry; I was dealing fine on my own!" Harry let his anger surface and he shouted back.
"That wasn't dealing! Throwing yourself off a tower isn't dealing that's killing yourself" Hermione lay down on the bed; she stared up at the ceiling as Harry stared down at her.
"Maybe death is dealing, maybe death was my freedom" Harry stepped closer and looked at the fragile body on the bed.
"Freedom from what?" he whispered afraid that she would break. She didn't move but said quietly.
"Freedom from the pain, freedom from hate, freedom from life" Harry nodded and sat down on the edge of her bed.
"Have you ever heard the story of the stone maiden?" Harry looked up from inspecting his nails and stared at her.
"Umm... no, I haven't" Hermione smile and looked back at the ceiling as though it was a book she was reading aloud.
"A long time ago in a small town near the beach, a young woman fell madly in love with a soldier, her parents and her friends told her it wasn't wise to love a soldier, but she didn't listen to them, all she listened to was her heart. The two lovers fell deeper in love with each other with each passing day. Until one day, a message came for her soldier telling him he would have to go into battle, he promised his lover that he would return to her no matter what and in return she promised him she would always wait for his return. And she did. She stood on the cliff facing out to sea, she watched as the boats took her love away from her.
She continued to wait; she stood on the same place, waiting for her lover to return. Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, months turned into years, and she continued to wait.
Soon the war ended and the boats returned, but her soldier didn't. And yet she continued to wait. A friend of her soldier told her he died in battle, but she waved him away and continued to wait, and there she remained looking out over the ocean waiting for her soldier to return." Harry watched Hermione as she told the story, finally he whispered.
"That's sad" Hermione looked at him and whispered in reply as though the very thought of the story made her stop breathing.
"It's not really, think about it, it doesn't have to be sad, it's romantic and strangely happy" Harry looked at her sceptically.
"How is that?" a small smile tugged at Hermione's lips as she thought of the same conversations being had between herself and Draco,
"Because she never stopped waiting, she didn't just run off with the next man dressed in a uniform, she waited for her lover." Harry shrugged and said easily
"I still think it's sad" Hermione sighed and went back to looking up at the ceiling.
After five minutes of silence Harry stood up and slowly walked towards the door he said loud enough for only her to hear. "It's not too late to start saving you." A small laugh came from the bed, followed by a small voice.
"It is too late, to the world I'm already dead," Harry closed his eyes briefly before leaving he whispered mostly to himself as he opened the door,
"don't turn to stone" he laughed lightly to himself and as he was closing the door, a song washed over him, he turned around and saw Hermione laying down on her back singing the words to a song he had never heard before.
"I'm heaven sent
don't you dare forget
I am the cause to all your problems
shelter from cold
we're never alone
coordinated mouth
then ask me what its like to have my self so figured out
wish I knew
I hope this song starts a craze
the kinda song that ignites the airways
the kinda song that makes people glad to be where they are
with whom ever they're there with
this is war
every line is about who I don't wanna write about anymore
hope you come down with something they can diagnose
don't have the cure for
holding on to your grudge
oh its so hard to have someone to love
and keeping quiet is hard
cause you cant keep a secret
if it was never was a secret to start
we're concentrating on fallen apart
we were contenders
now thrown in a fight
I just wanna believe
I just wanna believe
I just wanna believe in us
we are entirely smooth
we are the best at what we do
the means to the words
the good time of the beat
this is the price you pay for lost of control
this is the breaking of man
this is closest we've called
this is the reason your in love
this is the world we live in"
Harry closed the door and let it block out the sound of the song, blocking out the sound of Hermione, letting it locking away his friend.
A/N well... there was a lot more I wanted to put into it, but I couldn't, so that would have to do. Sorry it took so long it was hard to write I hope I did an alright job.
Thank you to all the people who have reviewed it made is so much easier to write. The fact that so many of you had followed it from the start is totally awesome so thank you all. I would write down all my reviewers for my last chapter like I usually do but since it my last on I'm not going to, just envision me thanking you. I will answer some questions if they have been asked.
I haven't got anything planned for my next story, so you might all have to wait for another twisted story from me.
phoenix-tear-11- people believe she's crazy because of what she did, and yeah the drawing that draco did was on her stomach.
DarkRaven-04- the song was 'perfect' by simple plan.
Kristina- sometimes the thing that hurts the most is realising that the world isn't innocent, and that things happen that we cant control, like always being perceived as perfect, no ones perfect and people who think they are have some serious issues. I'm glad my story showed you the truth.
ObSsEsSeD- nothing is ever perfect, I couldn't have her die and have all those questions un answered and not have Harry's perspective even a little in it. Trust me I would have preferred to let her die but I couldn't because things always happen to destroy the simplest f things. And I sent her to St. Mungos because its logical, if you jump from a building and survive by any reason why will worry about your mental stability and sent you to a place like St. Mungos.
SuperWoman13- sometimes it's good to see the world through another's eyes, and if I could I would look at it though every human's eyes on this planet. Your right, some people wait their whole life for something to happen, for a person to come along, or for understanding, or for true enlightenment, but those things don't fall from the sky, and you should waste your life waiting and waiting, because you will never experience anything and you would have wasted your life, and as far as I know, you only ever get one of them.
In some way I'm glad that this story can make people who haven't experienced these things think about it, see it thought others eyes, and maybe if you find someone who has this pain you wont be like Harry and you will give them understanding and a warm place to find peace.
Pleure- to tell me my work is amazing would make no difference; it is just another word, another phrase.
To tell me that you feel the same way, I would know what you mean.But to tell me you wear the mask every day silently hoping people will realise your pain, I would smile in a way that showed the world my own pain, I would say, that everyone wears a mask of some sort, a mask is always part of our face, no matter who you are. But your right it would make me wonder, wonder what my work really is, Is it my way of showing the blind people that things aren't always so good? Is it my way of showing people like yourself that you're not alone? Or is it my portrayal of how the world is?