silverstorm93: Thanks, dude!
Natural-181: Yeah, it does suck, but hey! It's part of the story! Thanks for reviewing!
The Holey Jacket: Lol, here it is! Thanks for reviewing!
Your Sheeshtur: Uhuh. Thanks for the review, my older sister.
xxlightningboltxx: Thank you!
clarinetbandgeek07: Hehe. Sorry. :) Anyway, thanks!
ANNiEEx3: Thanks for the review!
blackice93: Thanks, man!
Anyway, thank you for all your reviews! I hope you enjoy this chapter!
100000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000001
"Dr. Zabini! Good morning!"
Blaise Zabini nodded at Amelia, one of the nurses. He was now a doctor, something he had wanted to become since he was a small boy. He had wanted it so badly that he had actually gotten the courage to refuse his father, to refuse to receive the Dark Mark when he was eighteen years old. When he was eighteen…that seemed to be such a long time ago.
Becoming a respected, highly skilled doctor had not been easy. It had taken twelve years to get to where he was now.
He stopped himself from reminiscing. He couldn't afford being distracted from his work. It was a very delicate job. He finally reached his intended destination.
The psychiatric ward.
It was a glum place, despite the white walls, white floor, and white curtains, a rather pitiful attempt to brighten the place up. He looked at the paintings mounted on the walls, and the extremely small television and couch, all attempts to look happy and normal, which is what the patients weren't.
"I suppose there are more patients today?"
Amelia nodded, who had followed him. "Yes, doctor. There are."
Blaise sighed. When the war had started, there had been a staggering amount of new patients every single day, in all wards of St. Mungo's. Now, even months after, injured and mentally disturbed patients were still steadily coming, when they were suddenly found under a pile of bodies on the barren battlefield, or found barely alive miles away from where the war started.
To Blaise, the War should have only been reserved for Voldemort with his Death Eaters against skilled Aurors and other experienced witches and wizards. He had always thought an unnecessary number of people had taken part of it, and had lost their lives in the process.
"The one you should see the soonest is in Room 1246, probably in her late twenties or early thirties. She fought during the War for the Light side, and was brought here when she tried to kill herself…thrice."
"Why exactly did she try to kill herself so many times?"
The nurse shrugged. "We don't know. She's rather hard to talk to at the moment, thinks everyone's out to kill her."
Before Blaise could respond, Amelia left him, and he noticed in surprise that he was already standing in front of Room 1246. He took a deep breath, and opened the door, only to stop short at the sight in front of him.
Scrawny face, brown eyes, red hair.
Red hair…
100000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000001
Ginny heard the door open, and since no one had come into her room in a while, she looked up, and stared right into the eyes of…
…she knew this man.
She started to panic. If he was familiar…he was probably an enemy, since all her friends…all her family members…they no longer existed. Ginny started to edge away from this strangely familiar face.
"Ginny Weasley?"
Ginny's eyes widened in horror. He knew her name! He had been sent to kill her.
"Get away from me! LEAVE ME ALONE!"
Blaise's eyes widened in panic and shock. He started walking toward her. "Ginny, I-"
Ignoring his attempt to pacify her, she curled up in a corner and started to scream.
100000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000001
Blaise took a few steps back as the girl screamed and rocked back and forth, her eyes shut tight, and tears started to pour down her face.
How had she become this way?
He had never really been fond of Ginny Weasley during his Hogwarts years, mainly because she was in Gryffindor, and also because she had had a horrible temper.
But, he begrudgingly admit to himself, he had always had a little respect for her. She had never been afraid of insulting Malfoy back, and she had always stuck up for her friends.
This girl crying in a corner couldn't be Ginny Weasley.
Blaise realized that her screams were words. He tried to listen.
"YOU CAN'T KILL THEM! I WON'T LET YOU! GET AWAY FROM THEM! YOU CAN'T TAKE THEM AWAY FROM ME!"
Snapping out of his reverie, he quickly directed a sedative spell at her, and she quickly fell asleep.
He would try to talk to her once he figured out how to go about it without scaring her.
100000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000001
Ginny woke up and groaned as the overly bright light hit her eyes. Then, like every other day, she realized where she was. Ginevra Molly Weasley, you are in St. Mungo's. You are insane, and there's nothing you can do about it.
She had accepted long ago that she would be stuck here forever. It was safer here anyway.
Much safer.
Life had been absolutely cruel to Ginny Weasley.
What she had forgotten though, was how much crueler it had been to other people, like, for example, Harry Potter. He had died at such a young age. He had sacrificed himself to save the Wizarding world. She couldn't begin to imagine what a burden that must have been.
Ginny shook her head sadly, and looked around her room. A door that led to a cramped bathroom, a bed, which she was lying on, and a side table. It was one of the barest, smallest rooms that she had ever inhabited, though the nurses and doctors said it was "normal".
She then thought of other things. That man…the doctor. Thinking back, he had looked slightly familiar. If only she knew where she had seen him before, she would know what to do about the situation. She cursed. It was useless. She would just have to wait until his name slipped, or until he told her.
She did not want to ask him. She didn't want him to know she was interested.
She jumped as she heard the door open. She started to get out of bed to back into a corner, but stopped when she saw it was just a nurse, with breakfast.
"Hello, Ms. Ginny!" said the nurse, with a big, fake, smile. She put the tray of food down and left. Ginny sighed. The nurses should try harder to be, or at least look, genuine. In fact, everyone here was as cold as Ginny felt. She cautiously crawled up to the food. A paper cup full of water, some sick looking eggs, and undercooked bacon. The whole thing was completed with plastic utensils.
Ginny approached the meal with caution, and slowly began to eat.
Little did she know that Dr. Zabini was watching her through the little glass slit in the door.
100000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000001
Blaise took down notes as Ginny Weasley went up to the food carefully, as if the eggs would come to life and attack her with a plastic fork. What had happened to this woman that it had made her careful around food?
He recalled her screams. She had talked about killing. Blaise tried to come up with something.
Of course. The war had taken everyone away from her. It had been absolutely brutal.
Blaise figured he needed to have a chat with Ms.Weasley.
100000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000001
Blaise sighed as he sat at the table full of staff from the psychiatric ward. It was lunch time, and he was already exhausted. He had been juggling many patients, (despite the already large amount of doctors) always increasing with every single day.
He looked at lunch, which was…he didn't know what it was, but that didn't really matter, since he wasn't very hungry anyway.
He decided to just pick at his food, so he wouldn't be an object of concern to any of the nurses. They were always watching him with this dreamy expression in their eyes, and no matter how hard Blaise tried to divert their attention, it didn't work. Ever since his Hogwarts days, he had had girls all over him, and he had always been bothered by it, unlike Draco Malfoy.
Draco Malfoy. Even though he was long gone, it still created a painful pang in Blaise's heart. Draco Malfoy was dead, along with many, many other friends.
A bell interrupted his thoughts. It was the end of his break time. The doctors and nurses at the table groaned. Free time really was scarce at the psychiatric ward, and their jobs were not what anybody could call pleasant.
Blaise unwillingly went to check up on his patients.
100000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000001
"Ms. Ginny? It's time for fun!" The nurse said.
Ginny looked up and raised an eyebrow. The nurse sighed. "Oh, come now, Ms. Ginny, don't you want some T.V time and time to talk to other people?"
Ginny shrugged and stood up. "No." But she stood up anyway.
The nurse led her out of the room and down the corridor, until they came to a door. She opened it, and Ginny was pushed in, and saw the other patients, who were already sitting on the couches watching television, their faces expressionless. Ginny sat down, and they watched television, none of them making an attempt to talk, until it was time to take their medicine and go to sleep.
100000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000001
Once work was over, Blaise Apparated to his apartment, and with a tired sigh, and went straight to bed, trying to forget just how dismal work had been.
But, even in his dreams, he heard screams, saw images of his past and present patients. He saw Amora Evans trying to suffocate herself with her pillow, he saw Peter Watson punching his bathroom mirror…he saw Ginny Weasley huddling in a corner and screaming.