Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, she saw that her entire bedroom was covered in wrecked vases, shards of broken mirrors and butchered items. It looked as if someone had broken into her room and just destroyed everything.
She rolled her eyes. Evidently, that wasn't the case. She had only herself to blame, last night, not even her alter ego. She'd come home from Draco's so terribly angry and defeated and humiliated that she just decided to devastate her entire bedroom. And left it that way.
There were only several days left until Christmas, and she was not feeling it one bit. It was all quite sad, as Christmas was her most favourite time of the year and this time, more than ever, it was compromised. She was sad, angry, stressed and above all else, tired. In fact, she was so tired that she decided to take Draco's advice and see this hypnotherapist he mentioned.
And so with a heavy heart and a heavy coat, she dragged herself to Diagon Alley, where she located said hypnotherapist's office (which looked like a Chinese antique shop more than anything) and knocked.
"Coming!" a high-pitched, sing-song-y voice answered. Hermione could hear that Chinese opera music was playing in the background and she had half a mind to just leave, but as her right foot began to take a step to escape, the door swung open, and red lips greeted her.
That was the first thing she saw as the hypnotherapist answered the door – bright and pouty, and then her twinkling eyes were magnified by thick-framed lenses. It was like seeing a strange cross between Dumbledore and Trelawney. She was a portly, short woman, but that didn't stop her from wearing a cheongsam.
"How can I help you?" she smiled, her classical music took on a sadder, dramatic tone and Hermione felt that she could relate to that, even though she didn't know any Chinese at all.
"I'm Hermione Granger, and I was referred to you by -"
"Draco Malfoy, yes," she grinned toothily and opened the door wider, "He told me you would come by."
"Did he?" Hermione smiled wistfully and stepped into the threshold, taking in the variety of the shapes and colours of the Laughing Buddha stacked haphazardly on bookcases. There were also many, many books, all of which were in Chinese. The entire place smelled like Chinese incense, and that somehow calmed her mind.
"Yes, he described you very well," she smiled mysteriously and began dancing as the opera music began speeding up in tempo, "Have a seat. Tea?"
"Oh, yes please," Hermione shot her a puzzled look, as she made her way to a jade green sofa set in the middle of the antiques that surrounded the place. "What did he tell you exactly?"
"Oh, many things," she danced as she tapped her wand on a kettle, instantly boiling it.
She was about to ask her if all therapists were usually cryptic, but then she forgot that they excelled at mind-fuckery. Figures.
"He told me that you needed my help."
"Oh. Right. Yes, I figured I should give it a shot," Hermione said as she took her scarf off. "You may call it my last resort. I've tried everything."
She seemed to ignore Hermione as she fussed around with the tea, and she looked up to quickly say, "He also told me that you were very pretty. Lovely, curly locks, bright brown eyes and mind par excellence." She winked at the last bit and continued humming. The humming continued even as she moved away from the teapot for a bit to switch off the music.
Hermione blushed at that and instantly felt warmth spreading in her chest as she inspected her gloves.
"Well, a mind that clearly needs help straightaway too," Hermione answered immediately, trying to not let her see that she was affected by Draco's words.
"Tea," Au Kar Mun appeared out of nowhere and gave Hermione a start.
"Ah, thank you."
Au Kar Mun sat next to hear at the sofa, and that instantly brought flashbacks of last night with Draco and the warmth in Hermione's chest changed to an ache.
"Tell me about yourself," Au Kar Mun began.
Hermione was tired.
Her eyes were tired.
She had lost count of the times she broke down and started sobbing her heart out every time Au Kar Mun forced her to say what it was that haunts her until this day. She was forced to recollect all those gory images of war, the blood spilled, the people who died, Fred, leaving her parents, changes, inability to be on the same page with herself …
The Chinese tea Au Kar Mun provided seemed to ease her pain a little bit, and the more she drank, the calmer she got and the more she talked.
"I see," Au Kar Mun nodded and moved away from the sofa. She approached a large box and began to rummage through it, as Hermione looked on with swollen, teary eyes.
Au Kar Mun procured a metronome and straightened. She smiled at Hermione as she placed the metronome on the small table next to Hermione, and started it.
Tick … tick … tick …
"Right. I want you to assume a comfortable position. You may choose to lie down, if that keeps you most relaxed," she told Hermione gently, as she offered to take Hermione's cup away from her, "Let me take that."
"Oh, okay," Hermione sniffed and nodded, and threw her feet up on the sofa to lie in a supine position.
"Close your eyes," Au Kar Mun said.
Hermione nodded once more as she folded her hands on her chest, took a deep breath and shut her eyes. She was going to do this for herself. It was worth a shot. Plus, if she did get better, she could start fresh with Draco (if he was still interested of course. He did say she was very pretty). If not, then she would have to tell Draco she cannot see him anymore and … well, maybe move to Africa or something. That way she could get her alter ego to hunt poachers. At least she would still be doing something nice for the environment there instead of waiting to jump on Draco and harass him. Well, apart from all that she really didn't want to be sick for the rest of her life. That was equally important.
"Stop thinking," Au Kar Mun admonished her gently.
"Okay, I'm trying," Hermione frowned.
"Clear your mind and listen to the ticking. Be one with it. Breathe."
Tick … tick … tick … tick … tick …
"Concentrate on rhythmic breathing."
Tick … tick … tick … tick … tick …
"Your brain waves will also slow down."
Tick … tick … tick … tick … tick …
"Time is distorting."
Tick … tick … tick … tick … tick …
"Now … repeat after me," Au Kar Mun whispered, "The beats are slowing now … slower … slower …"
Hermione repeated after her monotonously, mind as blank as paper, "The beats are slowing now … slower … slower …"
Tick … tick … tick … tick …
"The time between each beat seems to be longer and longer."
Hermione repeated after her.
Tick … tick … tick …
"I am relaxed, and at peace with myself."
Hermione breathed, "I am relaxed, and at peace with myself."
Tick … tick …
Tick … tick …
Tick …
Tick.
And all was black.
"Hermione."
"Yes," she responded in a quiet voice.
"What do you see?"
Silence.
And then, "Nothing. I see nothing."
"Good. Now, I want you to press into your mind. Unlock, and explore."
Hermione took a deep breath and started visualizing her mind. Of how it would look like.
She was in a hallway. A hallway with lots of doors. Doors that were different in colour and had different labels on them. It was so typical of Hermione to have even her mind compartmentalized like that.
"I see … a hallway, I see doors," she said.
"Good. What do these doors say?"
Hermione's eyes moved in their sockets, as she looked around in her mind, finding the first few doors to be "Mum & Dad", "2 – 5 years Old" and "Elementary School". There even was "Hogwarts" and "Harry Potter", "Ron Weasley" and strangely enough, a silver and green ornamented door that had Draco's name on it.
She stopped right in front of the door, and held out her hand to open it, but she paused.
"I see Draco's name, and others too," she said. "I'm right outside Draco's door."
"Those are your thoughts and memories of him, all collected and documented behind those doors. However, that's not what you're looking for, is it?"
"No."
"Go on."
Hermione turned away from the door and started venturing further into the darkness of the hallway. The further she got, the bleaker it became.
The lovely decorations and wallpapers that festooned the hallways earlier on were gone and now these edges seemed to be worn out, torn and damaged. Some doors looked half-eaten by termites, most of them in poor condition. Upon closer inspection, she saw that they were labelled "War", "Death", and "Life".
"I see … bloodcurdling doors – War, Death," she said. "This is making me really uncomfortable. I hear sounds coming from them. Screams, spells."
"Ignore them, and push forward. You're nearly there," came the calm voice of Au Kar Mun.
"Nearly where?"
"You'll see. Go on."
Mind-Hermione pressed her hands to her ears to block out those sounds and all but ran towards the end of the hallway.
It was completely dark by now, with the only source of light being the one emitting from the wall lights behind her.
But what she saw now needed not much light, as it was big – painted in black and red. It didn't have a label, but she knew what it was.
"I see it," Hermione informed Au Kar Mun.
"Good, good. Are you ready?"
"Ready."
"Go in."
Hermione twisted the doorknob and pushed, and the door swung open heavily.
There was a white, clean wall. And it was decorated with many, many frames.
There were pictures of wine, pictures of paintings, some of Draco Malfoy, some of gold and some of various parts of Hermione's other life.
And then she heard footsteps.
She turned towards the sound and much to her surprise, saw herself walking towards her.
The other her had a malicious grin, a slinky way of walking and an intimidating aura.
"I see her," Hermione whispered.
"Engage," Au Kar Mun ordered.
Hermione took a deep breath.
"Well, well, well, if this isn't a nice surprise," the other Hermione grinned wider and planted a kiss on Hermione's cheek, "How are you, my other half – literally? Or I suppose I should say my lesser half now."
She tossed her head back and laughed, the sound echoing in the small room.
"You know, I wasn't expecting you to pay me a visit. How kind."
"I came here to tell you to leave me alone," Hermione snarled.
The other her blinked, and cocked her head in curiosity.
"Why? You need me," she smiled.
"I don't."
"I seem to recall the scared little girl at seventeen, the one who completely allowed me to take over from time to time. I am the reason why we are here today," the other her supplied, still grinning.
"I am strong enough to take it today. I no longer need you," Hermione said firmly.
"Oh?"
"Yes, you're forgetting that I am still in charge, and I can and will wipe you out right now," Hermione began to collect energy, so as to banish this other her and destroy this room and door once and for all.
The other Hermione frowned deeply.
"Don't be silly. You may think you have that power, but you're forgetting that if you wipe me out, you're going to wipe out parts of yourself too. You have that risk of turning into a vegetable if you do so."
"You're lying," Hermione shook her head and paused only a moment in gathering her mind energy before continuing once more.
"I'm not joking. I am beginning to take over you, Hermione. And what that means is that I dominate more than half of you. If you willfully take me out, you take out yourself. You'll be an empty shell of a person then," the other her smirked as she buffed her nails against her leather pants.
"No!"
"Yes!" the other Hermione laughed. "So you see, you really do need me."
"I don't! Get the fuck away! Leave and never come back!" Hermione yelled as loud as she could, and the walls shook and the frames began to fall onto the floor one by one in succession – smashing and making a mess on the floor.
The other Hermione tsk'ed and growled. "Now look at what you've done!"
"GO AWAY! I DON'T NEED YOU! LEAVE ME BE!" Hermione chanted and chanted, the high decibel of her voice never wavering.
The other her immediately pressed her hands against her eyes and narrowed her eyes, shouting back at Hermione, "Shut up! Shut up! This isn't going to get you anywhere!"
Hermione began shouting and yelling and commanding her to go away, but it was to no avail. The other Hermione simply waited, still covering her ears as she watched the last few frames fall to the floor.
Then, suddenly unable to take it, the other Hermione marched towards Hermione and gave her a tight slap on the cheek.
The real Hermione took a step backwards out of shock and indignation, clutching her throbbing cheek with her left hand. The nerve!
"Why, you little -" she regained her footing and took a resolute step forward to -
SLAP!
This time, it was the other Hermione who clutched her left cheek in outrage.
And, in the blur of a moment, they were engaged in a tussle. In a flurry of entangled limbs and shouts, they scratched and bit and slapped and clawed at each other.
"This," Hermione said, accentuating her word with a smack, "Is. My. Life! You bitch!"
"Oh, do shut up!" The other her retorted and kicked her in the gut, effectively throwing Hermione off-guard and off her.
Hermione was on the floor, clutching her throbbing stomach as the other Hermione tried to stand on one leg, her other one currently out of service after Hermione violently stepped on it.
The other Hermione wiped her mouth and nose, as trails of blood began to trickle down slowly.
"I'm a mess," she said, "Now why don't you fucking go away. I need to clean up, and I have to work tonight."
"Make," Hermione gasped out, "Me."
The other Hermione was in the midst of fixing up her ponytail before she glared daggers at Hermione.
"Fine. I will."
Suddenly, an unknown force lifted her up and began to push her towards the door.
She tried to fight it but she was much too weak and the force was much too great for her to fight against.
The large, black-and-red door opened and the force kicked her out.
The last thing she heard was a sing-song-y "Ta-ta!" before the door shut in her face.
She got up on her feet as soon as possible, ignoring the throbbing everywhere on her body and tried to twist the doorknob.
It wouldn't budge, and mere seconds later, barricades appeared outside the door, almost obscuring it completely from view.
"NO!"
… "And when I count backwards from ten to one, you will wake up and forget that any of this happened, and you will be free," came the ghostly voice of Au Kar Mun.
"What? No!" Hermione yelled in the hallways, responding to the voice.
"You will progressively awaken. Ten … nine … eight … seven …"
Hermione shut her eyes and forcefully pushed herself back to reality. It felt as if she was swimming to the surface of the ocean, and the more she pushed, the harder it got.
Everything hurt, and everything throbbed. But she just … needed … to –
Hermione's eyes flew open, and she saw the familiar ceiling of the Chinese antique lot.
"Six … oh, that was sooner than I expected," Au Kar Mun exclaimed, bringing her hand to her chest as she regarded Hermione with a concerned expression. "I trust that everything went well?"
Hermione moved to a sitting position and stared at her skirt for long moments, her expression hard. She ignored Au Kar Mun's comments and questions resolutely.
"Well, whenever you're ready. I'll make more tea," Au Kar Mun jumped up from her seat and clapped her hands.
"There is no need," Hermione said in an eerily quiet voice, "It didn't work."
Au Kar Mun watched her. "It didn't?"
Hermione blinked once, and that seemed to have snapped her out of her reverie. She immediately began gathering her things – her gloves, her scarf and stood up, still not looking at Au Kar Mun.
"I need to go. I …" Hermione bit back a sob. "Thanks so much for your help. It was worth the try."
"But, Hermione!" Au Kar Mun protested.
"No!" she shouted, and Au Kar Mun jumped a little. Hermione's features immediately softened and she sighed, looking at Au Kar Mun dead in the eye. She began softly, "I'm sorry, Au Kar Mun. I really appreciate your time and the effort but … it didn't work. I tried. I just have to find another way."
Without waiting for an acknowledgement or advice, Hermione put on her scarf and stormed out of the place.
Malfoy had not contacted her since that day last week, and that somehow made it easier for Hermione to write her goodbye letter:
Dear Draco,
I went to see your hypnotherapist and sad to say, things didn't work out. I'm afraid that also means that we both won't work out as well. Not until I figure out how to get rid of it completely.
Until then, have a nice life.
Best regards and Happy Christmas,
Hermione.
…
Dearest Hermione,
Utterly devastated to hear that your session with Au Kar Mun wasn't fruitful in the least bit.
But don't you dare end things now, we will talk soon. I'll have to visit my mother in Nice for the holidays, but I've attached your gift with this letter. Don't open until Christmas, and I will see you very soon. We need to talk. Be back after Christmas.
All my love and Merry Christmas to you too,
Draco.
It was, by far, the worst Christmas Hermione had ever had.
There were so many happy people, and all of them were drinking and dancing at The Burrow. All except for Hermione.
She plastered on a fake smile and rehearsed a sickeningly cheery laugh, but she knew better. She was worse for wear and she had purple circles under her eyes. Harry and Ron shot her concerned looks every now and then, but she smiled and shook her head every time they did, reassuring them that she was indeed fine and yes, she was enjoying herself.
She missed Draco, and it pained her that she wouldn't be able to see him for a very long time – forever, if she didn't cure herself. She thought of the gift he'd sent her – a first edition of a book she'd always been looking for – and felt even more crushed.
Glancing at her watch, she counted. Only seven more hours until she could take her leave. Then, she'd take a sleeping pill and sleep until the day after.
"Granger! Happy Christmas!" Pearson laughed mirthfully as he lit his cigar, feet thrown on top of the desk, "Too many Christmas parties, eh? You look like shit!"
"Takes one to know one, I suppose," the other Hermione threw herself onto the chair and folded her hands. "Any new assignments?"
"Well, there was a new one today. Quite high-profiled and I am not going to ask you to do it," Pearson said, face suddenly serious.
"Why not?" she rubbed her temples and sighed deeply.
"Because you told me it isn't something you would do."
"Which is?" she looked up at him tiredly.
"It's … an assassination job," Pearson answered. "But I've got Smith to do it. He's on it as we speak – about to go scout the residence. Word is that the owner will only be back tomorrow."
"Ah, I see," Hermione stood up and stretched, "If there's nothing for me, guess I'll be going."
She made a mental note to probably rob other people tonight, if that gave her something to do. The poor deserved some joy too this Christmas, and she was going to be their personal Santa Claus.
The warehouse door slid open and Smith emerged, and he sent her a prompt smile. Hermione merely looked at him in a bored sort of way before she turned towards Pearson.
"Mind if steal some of your vodka before I leave?" Hermione asked, but didn't bother waiting for an answer as she grabbed a glass and poured the clear liquid before downing it whole.
Pearson and Smith seemed to be deep in discussion, both paying no mind to Hermione.
"I'm leaving," she announced and began to pull her wand out of its holster.
"Right, right," Pearson answered, "Just busy talking about the Malfoy assassination job with Smith before I turn in for the night. See you around, Granger."
Hermione's blood went cold, her body rigid. Did she hear that right?
"Who?"
"Malfoy. Someone paid us a truckload of money to have him killed," Smith shrugged. "I'm doing it."
"Who?" Hermione asked again, eyes narrowing.
"Draco Malfoy. You know, heir to the Malfoy fortune, Mind Healer at St. Caterina's? You stole from him once. Some war-scarred man wants him dead. Revenge for his family, you know how it goes."
DUN DUN DUN!
TBC!
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P/S down with a cold, so hopefully you will forgive the errors and grammar mistakes!