Her POV

Bright. So bright. That's the only thought I could process through the traffic jam inside my head. I could feel every part of my body, and yet, I was afraid to move. It felt like hours before I twitched my fingers. Immediate pressure was applied as I felt someone squeeze my hand. The squeeze set off a throbbing in my wrist. The throb set a rhythm to my thoughts. I opened my eyes. Was this heaven? Everything above me was deathly white.

Throb.

I quickly catalogued my surroundings. White walls with horrible white curtains.

Throb throb.

White sheets on a plastic white bed frame. A white clothed nurse in the corner looking anxiously at me. A hospital.

Throb throb.

I struggled to push myself into a sitting position. The nurse rushed over to help me. Embarrassed that I even needed help, I looked at my hands. That was a bad idea. Thick clean bandages covered my left wrist.

Oh. That's why I was in the hospital. I looked at the nurse and tried to ask for information with my eyes. She either didn't understand my look or ignored it.

My dad looked at me and got it. "You've been out for two days," he said. "I, er, foundyou ,in the bathroom. You were...," he paused, unsure how to continue.

"Unconscious."

My breathing stopped. "Oh."

My voice cracked. The nurse cut in, sensing my distress. "We'll run a few tests, but you should be out of here by tonight." I sighed; tonight couldn't come fast enough.

Though, as it turns out, it did. I tried watching boring reruns of Charlie Rose. As you can guess,I quickly fell asleep.

When I woke up, it was around five. My nurse walked in and gave me dinner. Meat loaf and green-beans. Or, as I liked to call them, shitloaf and mean-beans. When I pointed this out to my nurse, she scowled and left. I sighed.

I ate my mean-beans in silence; I had tried TV and Charlie Rose was still droning on about the national debt.

A while later, the nurse came back in with my dad, saying I was free to go. I nodded glumly, Now I'd have to go back to school. Then I perked up, no more shitloaf and mean-beans!

The ride home from the hospital was well... Awkward. It was mostly quiet, but when my dad tried for conversation, it crashed and burned.

"So, erm, how is school going?" Another valiant attempt at getting me to talk.

Too bad I was not in the mood.

"School's fine."

"What about your friends?"

I didn't respond.

He tried another topic.

"I talked to Suzie," Great, advice from the stepmom.

'"And she and I agreed that maybe you should get help."

I froze.

"Like what?"

He took a minute's pause and then said firmly,

"Hermione, we want you to go to rehab."

A/N: Thanks so much to my epic beta! I was being a boob and forgot to talk about her awesomeness last chapter. Oh well, at least she gets this chapter's gush fest! Thanks again prettykitty473! Flood her with beta requests!

Also I noticed over 100 people read my story and yet, only 3 commented! Thanks oodles to those people and sophie (smirk) but I survive on reviews!

'Till ron's pov! -Julia