Chapter Nine: Inspiration
Hermione set down her work and rubbed her forehead. She had been working non-stop the entire afternoon.
Seeing the patients was the easy part of her job. The paperwork, contemplation, and all the stress was the hard part.
At least Malfoy wasn't giving her nearly as much trouble as he was before.
Her greatest concern was actually Pansy - the girl was becoming extremely suicidal, and suicidal patients had to be handled with delicate care. It was Hermione that had to make the call to St. Mungo's when Pansy hadn't shown up for her therapy session. And Hermione had been there to sign her in, fill out her paperwork...
Sometimes I wonder, Hermione thought as she worked her way through a form.
Whenever a client of hers tried to commit suicide, her supervisor was automatically involved, and more paperwork was dropped on her desk. The Ministry wanted to know everything - What was the last thing your client said to you? Was his/her temperment improving under your care? Did he/she have a stable diet?
Hermione wanted to scream sometimes. Not only because of the extra work and the personal insult of having someone wanting to commit suicide rather than get better... but because she felt so guilty, and so responsible. As if she was personally responsible, as if she had tried to Avada them herself.
She felt a light touch on her shoulder, and turned to see Ron standing there cautiously. She softened her face and smiled. "Hello, Ron. How was work?"
Their relationship was still in its awkward stage, even though they had been dating openly for over a year. That had definitely driven Harry crazy after a while - he was the one that put them up to it. "My god, you two are unbelievable! She loves you. You love her. Just go out already."
There was nothing passionate about them - it's like they were still just friends. They hadn't done anything together - no making out. No sex. Nothing... except for this upcoming wedding, which was another thing Hermione had to worry about.
On some level, it was like marrying Harry. Though that would be... just weird. He was like her brother. And not only that - Harry and Ginny were a very passionate couple. Openly passionate.
It was a good thing she still had a crush on Ron, even if it was diminished occasionally by his personality.
"It was okay..." he said, sitting on their bed behind him. "The most interesting thing that happened was that we got a shippment of prophecies, and one of them has something to do with Luna's future daughter. She's supposed to come along in thirty years or something."
Hermione spun around to look at him. Luna kept her private life - if she had one - to herself, but as far as she knew, Luna was as alone as she ever was. "What are the details?" Hermione asked.
Ron shrugged and lied down on his back. "It was a big deal though - it couldn't even be placed in the room with the rest of them. It's top secret."
Hermione stared. "But... even Harry's prophecy was in the same room - "
"Yeah, that's the mysterious thing. The guy who delivered it said that the Minister had a signed order to place it separately. And I read the order... and it looks like - "
"Hey, guys." Harry Potter popped out of nowhere.
Hermione jumped.
"We were just talking about you," said Ron, looking over at him, completely unfazed. Living with Fred and George had probably done that to him.
"I came over here to explain that. Now, you can't tell anyone about this..."
"Looking back now, how do you feel about all of it?"
Draco shrugged. "I don't know... I feel like I shouldn't have done all of that stuff."
Hermione wrote a note: Starting to show remorse. She looked at him, willing him to continue, though she wasn't paying one hundred percent attention to his words.
"I know that it was bad. In fact, I knew it was bad while I was doing it... a little. But I wanted to do it too much because I hated him. I hated all of them. And nothing else mattered." He looked over at her to discover her eyes completely glazed over.
"What? Oh my god, I'm sorry about that. Oh boy." She shuffled the papers on her desk and closed his file.
Instead of getting angry, Draco stared at her and said, "What was that?"
She looked at him. She couldn't get what Harry had told her out of her mind. She knew what she needed to do - she needed to research, which was what she did best -
"Is it about that prophecy that came in the other day?"
Hermione looked at him, hesitated, and nodded.
Draco shook his head. "Don't worry about it, I'm already looking into it - Weasley's idea. You didn't get me that NASROP stuff for nothing."
"You're using it? That's great!"
"Of course I'm using it, I love going there. You should see the inside of it, Granger - it's beautiful. There are just stacks of papers and books everywhere, extending into oblivion... well, it needs a better organization system, that's for sure..." He trailed off, and then cleared his throat. "Well. The prophecy thing is not as big as it sounds. What did he tell you?"
"He said that its about something bigger than The Dark Lord! He's had people analyzing the words for at least a month, and brought it to the Minister's attention a couple days ago. None of them can figure out what it's saying...and there is still a chance that it isn't real. But just in case."
"Let me guess... Potter told the Minister that it needed to be locked away just in case too, right? He's paranoid. The young girl who made the prophecy lives in a muggle sanatorium."
Hermione's eyes widened. "... Oh. Well, then." She shook her head. "Maybe it's nothing..."
"Are we so starved of things to talk about that we talk about stuff like this? Come now. I'm researching it as a favor, and because it gets me out of that stupid apartment..."
"Well, you only have a few months left on your house arrest - "
"A few months? That's forever for me, Granger! And eight months is not a few. At least the prophecy gives me something to do. I could recite Roman emperors in my sleep."
She shrugged and looked at the clock on the wall. Nearly time for her next patient. "Listen, I have a bit of an assignment for you."
He looked at her with interest.
"I want you to pretend that you are me. I'm sure you've heard my voice in your head more than once, telling you not to do something - my patients complain about it all the time. They say I'm like some kind of... annoying guide fairy." She chuckled, but he didn't find that funny at all.
He had heard her voice in his head - more times than he would've liked. And it had annoyed him to no end. She had no idea.
"Now, pretending you are me, I want you to take a significant event in your life - something that we haven't talked about - and I want you to rip it apart with questions. 'Why did this happen?' 'Why didn't I do the right thing here?' 'What was I thinking?' And I want you to write it all down. It better be good, too - " she shot him a warning look, " - because I'll make you redo it if it isn't. You know I will." She let that threat hang in the air, and then continued. "You are going to bring this paper into my office within the month. Take your time, because this will require a lot of thought. Okay?"
Draco was immediately annoyed. Homework? No offense Granger, but school is out. For good. D'you fancy yourself a professor or something?
"Well, if you don't have any questions, then we're all done here." She smiled warmly at him.
When he tried to return it the best he could, his smile came out as a simple bearing of his teeth. She laughed.
This is so hard, Draco thought to himself. I don't want to fucking do this.
He was sitting on his bed, with a fresh roll of parchment in front of him... and was stuck. He couldn't force himself to think of anything. What was a significant event in his life? There were a lot of events, and a lot of big ones... he had a hard time chosing. Big, or significant? "Big" was... something that affected everything in his life. But "significant"... required more thought.
Okay, focus now. There are a million things that have happened to you. Pick one. How about the first time you rode a broom?
He inhaled, put the quill to parchment...
Oooo. Granger was not going to like that one.
All he had were dark memories, dark events... he couldn't think of anything that had made him happy. They'd discussed all of his escapades as a Death Eater... and a lot of his times as an ignorant prick of a student. All dark stuff. What was left? Nothing:
When I got stamped with my Dark Mark. When I became seeker for the Slytherin Quidditch team. When I didn't kill Dumbledore. When I first met Crabbe and Goyle. When my father got sent to Azkaban. When I saw my mother cry for the first time. When I became a prefect. When I saw Azkaban looming in the distance. When I heard the charges against me. When they snapped my wand, when I first felt the cold fear from the dementors...
He paused. What about everything after that? That was also a part of his life...
When Potter first came to talk to me in my cell. When I heard the pleading tone in his voice as the Wizenagamot stared him down. When they removed my shackles.
When I stepped into Granger's office.
When I saw the splotch on her ceiling. When she made me cry. When she took me to dinner. When she gave me the essential ticket to getting into the NASROP Archives.
When she said... that she couldn't leave me broken.
He was struck with sudden inspiration. He wrote the last thought down at the top of the parchment, not knowing what to make of his choice.
Very good, she whispered.