A/N: I do not own Harry Potter or any related characters

This is for the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Assignment #3 First Aid - Task #1: Help them to the ground, clear the area to prevent area, and put a pillow or towel under their head: Write about someone trying to stop someone else from being harmed.

Word count: 1075

Warning: self harm, PTSD, panic attack

The noises swelled, becoming nothing but a loud cacophony of sound. She knew people were talking, laughing. She could see their mouths moving. There were other sounds. Food being eaten, drinks clinking, all the sounds of a celebration no matter how sober it might be.

She slipped out of the Great Hall, her entire body shaking. She had thought she was ready for this. She had thought wrong. A year on the run, every little sound could be her end. She'd grown so hyper sensitive, listening, hearing everything. The threats were gone now, but her mind refused to acknowledge that fact.

Standing in the corridor attracted attention, people calling out to her, people wanting to talk to her, to add to the throbbing hum in her ears, her head. She pushed past them, giving them a fake smile, some mumbled excuse. No one questioned it. No one else could feel the hum of energy, feel their body mistranslating it as a threat.

"I'm safe now," she whispered, over and over until the words lost cohesion, lost all meaning. She glanced around. She'd been walking blindly, just trying to find a way to get away, somewhere quiet, somewhere she could panic in private. She was on the stairs leading upward to one of the towers. She thought it might be the astronomy tower, but she wasn't sure. Either way, it was currently abandoned. She sank onto one of the cold stone stairs. The cold grounded her slightly, her breathing becoming more rapid.

"Safe, safe, safe," she muttered, her fingers curling into fists. She could feel her fingernails pressing against her palms. She curled them tighter, feeling the nails cut into her flesh. Pain was real. Pain would get her through this, let her body think the threat was over, that she was suffering. It wasn't enough. The world was throbbing around, pulsing, she couldn't think, couldn't breathe. She opened her hands. The little crescents pressed into her palms weren't enough. Her fingers found the scar on her arm.

"Mudblood," she whispered, tracing each of the letters, using a jagged nail to slice the flesh. A few pinpricks of blood formed on the surface of her arm. The bloodletting seemed to slow the world. She took a soft breath. She closed her eyes, letting the panic start to fade. Footsteps. She heard footsteps! Her heart started beating again, thundering against her chest.

The calm was broken. Fight or flight, her mind screamed. Hermione was on her feet, her body swaying as she tried to stay in the here and now. Part of her knew the footsteps couldn't be a threat, but that part of her was currently being ignored by her past traumas. Suddenly the footsteps faded, going in a different direction. The damage was already done though. Hermione's fingers were ripping at her arms, doing anything to feel the pain, there had to be enough pain to make the world stop, enough real pain, physical pain, to make the pain in her head, the mental anguish, the fear, dull.

"Stop!"

Hermione raised her head. Tears were streaming from her brown eyes. There was blood running down her arms.

"It's okay, it's okay. Here, come here, shhh, I've got you."

Hermione took a few haltering steps towards him. Her eyes were unfocused as she started coming back into herself. He was distracting her mind from everything. Her eyes drank in his muscles, the light blue shirt he wore.

"I'm going to come closer. I'm not going to hurt you," he promised, taking a step in her direction. He'd nearly reached her when Hermione finally gave up fighting and allowed herself to nearly collapse into his arms. He held her for a second, then a minute as she slowly started breathing normally again. His warmth was better than the pain, the pressure he was holding her with, bringing her back to the present. Slowly she looked up at his face.

"It's going to be alright," he whispered, kissing the top of her head. She nodded, looking down at her arms.

"I...I...I couldn't fight," she whispered.

"You fought, Hermione, you fought. Here," he said, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and gently dabbing her arms.

"I...if you hadn't... why are you even here?"

"I saw you slip out. I figured you needed to clear your head. The Great Hall's a bit claustrophobic at the moment. I followed you."

"Why?"

"Something about you looked off, like you were afraid. I would have approached you sooner if I'd realized..."

"No one knows."

"No one, not even my brother?" he asked.

"Especially not him. Merlin no. He'd just... he wouldn't understand. He couldn't even cope with the night terrors. Part of the reason we broke up," she whispered, a slight smile on her lips remembering the good times, the times before she'd realized her mind was more damaged than her body.

"You don't need to hide, Hermione. There's people who can help, I know most people don't talk about things like mental health, but there are mind healers."

"I know, I know... I just..."

"You shouldn't have to face this alone."

"Thanks, are you offering to be my babysitter then?" she asked, giving him a slight smirk. He returned it with ease.

"If you'd like, I mean, what are your plans now?"

"I have no idea. I thought I wanted to work in the ministry, but now, I... I don't know," she admitted.

"I have an idea then! How does fresh air, wide open skies, and spending time with me saving dragons sound?"

"You're offering me a job?"

"Sure, I'm willing to bet you could learn just about anything, probably memorize the latest dragon catalog?"

"True, I do have a good memory and a change of scenery might help. Wide open spaces doesn't sound too bad either."

"Perfect! I'm staying with George and Fred until Saturday, if you want to think about it. If not, the portkey back leaves Saturday at 2, just meet me in front of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes."

"Thank you, we should head back, I mean, someone's bound to be looking for at least one of us," she said, looking at her arms, they were already healing.

"True, so hopefully I'll see you Saturday."

"You will," she said, giving him a smile. "You will," she added, heading back out into the corridor thinking about all the research she would need to do on dragons, and their handlers, before Saturday.