Disclaimer: All credits go to J. K. Rowling. Their her characters, I'm just playing with them. Also, part of this chapter is taken exactly from Order of the Phoenix. I don't claim to own that either.
Okay, so is doing this weird thing so that all the text is centered, so if that's still happening. I'm sorry but I don't know how to fix it.
Chapter Nine:
Shattered
"Once Upon a year gone by
She saw herself give in
Every time she closed her eyes
She saw what could have been
Well nothing hurts and nothing bleeds
When covers tucked in tight
Funny how the bottom drops
How she forgets to fight"
-- Vanessa Carlton, Paradise
Her mind was in a haze as she felt herself being pulled away from Harry. Strong hands wrapped around her and lifted her off the floor and away from the glass, as Remus gently placed her back onto the bed. She heard Mrs. Weasley step closer, suggesting that she help her change, but she had barely registered that it was her she was speaking to when Remus interrupted saying that Dumbledore would have to see "it" and perhaps something other than a nightgown would more appropriate. She didn't have to ask what "it" was.
She knew that they were talking to her, about her; she knew that there were more people in the room watching her for signs of how she was; she knew that somewhere in the room Harry was standing, waiting for her to tell him that she was fine like she always did, but she couldn't bring herself to. She couldn't bring herself to tell them to stop acting as if she couldn't hear them. Because she couldn't, not really. Her mind was still outside in the woods surrounding the house, replaying what Lucius Malfoy had said, what he had done, what they all had done. She was trapped there as her mind replayed every feeling over and over again.
Hermione saw Mrs. Weasley raise her wand, but she didn't see that it was her that had done it. All she saw were silver masks and black flowing robes surrounding her, cornering her in. She scrambled to the other side of the bed in terror, pressing herself as close to the headboard as she could.
"Hermione, Hermione its okay, just calm down." Remus said stepping forward. He placed a hand on her arm, trying to comfort her, but Hermione just flinched farther away. There were too many people, and it hurt, everything hurt so horribly. She just wanted to be alone, left alone to cry and pull herself together in peace.
"Hermione Molly—Mrs. Weasley," Remus corrected himself, pulling his hand away slowly, so he didn't startle her, "is going to clean and repair your pants with her wand. No one here will hurt you, do you understand?"
Hermione nodded slowly, though she still looked frightened as Mrs. Weasley raised her wand and she drew back closer to the headboard as she felt her jeans tighten around her as the tears were repaired.
"Hermione we also have a shirt for you to change into." Remus said, he tried to make his voice as soothing as possible, but he wasn't sure it was helping. "Molly's going to help you put it on, is that alright?"
"Ye-y-yes." Hermione said stumbling over the word. She wanted to say no. She didn't want anyone to touch her. But she knew she couldn't say no. She knew that the longer she fought it the longer she would be exposed to everyone else, revealing the very thing that she wanted desperately to hide.
Mrs. Weasley came over to the other side of the bed, gently telling Hermione to lift up her arms. She pretended not to notice that Hermione flinched when her hand grazed unscathed skin, and instead pretended that it was because of the pain.
--
The door to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's room opened and Dumbledore came in first. He looked graver than Harry had seen him in awhile, like this hadn't been expected and the shock hadn't completely worn off. It bothered Harry to see him look like that.
Professor McGonagall followed him into the room a minute later, Snape close behind her. Professor McGonagall seemed out of sorts as well, not completely put together proven by the crooked angle of her hat. Snape looked as composed as always, and Harry found himself oddly comforted to see that the situation wasn't severe enough to have affected his composure as well.
"Mr. Potter, Miss Weasley we need to check on Miss Granger's condition. We need you to wait somewhere else for now." Dumbledore said, smiling at them encouragingly. When Harry looked at him now, he could see no trace of the weariness he glimpsed at as Dumbledore entered the room. He hoped that meant that once he had seen Hermione he realized the situation wasn't as bad as he thought.
"I want to stay with Hermione." Harry said.
"You can come back later." Mrs. Weasley said coming forward. "But right now they need to take care of Hermione." She grasped Ginny's arm and his own firmly, she had a much stronger grip than Harry would have expected, and led them to the door. "I think a nice cup of hot chocolate would make us all feel better, don't you dears?"
She had already led them out of the room and down the hallway before Harry even had the chance to protest.
Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape walked further into the room, Snape moving closer so he could place the black bag he had brought with him on the nightstand next to the bed. Hermione flinched when she thought he had gotten too close, but Remus was glad to notice that this time she did not scramble away. Of course, he hadn't touched her yet.
"What's this on the floor?" Professor McGonagall asked looking about the room. Remus noticed that she had only looked at Hermione a moment before looking away. He couldn't blame her. Hermione, even now that she was calmed down, still looked lost and confused, the effects of the attack on her out in the open for everyone to see. She still had dark bruises and cuts on her face as well, making it even harder to look her in the eye. Focusing on the glass around them seemed easier to him as well.
"Oh yes," Remus said looking around. He pulled out his wand, casting a quick "scourgify" before answering. "When HermioneThings got a bit emotional when Hermione saw.the extent of the attack." Remus explained.
"What do you mean?" Professor McGonagall asked.
"It hurt." Hermione said and all heads turned to her, though she didn't seem to notice. "It hurt terribly and I was afraid that it would never stop. I never thought about it hurting before. But it makes sense, it's like a brand isn't it, proving who you belong to."
"What is she talking about?" Professor McGonagall asked.
"The Dark Mark" Remus said quietly, "It's on her hip."
McGonagall's gasp was heard loudly in the quiet room and even Snape looked up startled. Dumbledore nodded gravely, before sitting down on the edge of Hermione's bed.
"Miss Granger, I was very sorry to hear what has happened. I am sorry that you weren't better protected." He said taking her hand in his own. Hermione recoiled at the contact, unprepared for it, but his firm grip wouldn't allow her to pull away. "Professor Snape is here to help heal you, is that okay?"
Hermione nodded her head and he made to stand but Hermione stopped him. "Will you be able to remove it?"
Dumbledore smiled gently at her, and patted the hand she had used to stop him. "We'll see Miss Granger, we'll see."
Snape moved forward and Hermione quickly turned her head away, closing her eyes. The way he walked, the confidence he held himself with, it all reminded her of Lucius Malfoy and what he had done to her.
"I will need to know what hurts the worst, Miss Granger." His voice came. "Miss Granger, what hurts?" He repeated when she didn't respond.
Everything. Everything hurt.
--
By the time Professor Snape had finished with the diagnostic spells and the healing spells and the healing potions and salves that caused Hermione to flinch and cry out in pain, Professor McGonagall had to excuse herself from the room and Remus had to fight the urge to follow her.
Never in all the years that they had known her had they seen her so lost, so broken. In the past, she always worked through the pain, smiled through it, buried herself in her school work. It hurt to see her like that. It made them feel guilty for the pain she was in, that they weren't there to stop it, after promising as her teachers to protect her.
"This is for the effects of the Cruciatus." Professor Snape said handing her a potion vial.
"How did you know?" Hermione asked accepting the vial. She had been quiet through his examination, only answering questions when she had too, never telling him everything that had happened. By the end she had fallen into answering with just one word answers because every time she tried to explain what happened she ended up in tears. She didn't want to cry. Not in front of Professor Snape. Not in front of Dumbledore. Not in front of anyone.
"The fact that you haven't stopped shaking since I entered the room was a hint." He drawled. "I would have given it to you sooner, but it would have interacted with the other potions you've already taken. Drink the potion Miss Granger, it will help."
Hermione drank it down before handing the empty bottle back to Professor Snape. She noticed that Professor Dumbledore had come closer, approaching the bed.
"Feeling slightly better?" He asked smiling down at her.
She nodded her head yes, not trusting her voice to convey what she really didn't feel.
"Good." Dumbledore said nodding his head, "I think it best that now we examine your hip."
"Why?" Hermione asked quickly. All three men could see her withdrawing back into herself.
"Its best that we know what it is, Miss Granger." Professor Snape explained, "We need to determine if it might have an ill effect on you."
Hermione still appeared hesitant, but nodded her head in consent. Professor Snape looked around briefly, before sitting beside her on the bed next to her, looking uncomfortable.
"Lift your shirt up around the area of the Mark." He told her.
Hermione shifted her position, uncomfortable with his proximity. Showing him it, having him see it and confirming what it was, that made it real. It confirmed that they owned a part of her now. And she didn't want that.
"Miss Granger, you have allowed me to look in to your mind, something much more intimate than this." He told her. "I need to look at it."
Hermione nodded feeling oddly comforted by him, before pulling up her tank-top enough to show him the mark. It stood out vividly from her pale skin, black with red raised skin all around it. It was as if he had burned it into her. That was what it had felt like as well.
Remus hissed from across the room and Hermione closed her eyes trying to block out his expression of pity. Professor Snape continued to examine it, looking at it closely, as if expecting it to move. Finally he looked up at her, instructing her to open her eyes. "Do you remember anything from when it happened? The spell that was said? The wand movement?"
"No." Hermione said, shaking her head. "I couldn't make out what he was saying; just that it was some sort of a spell. I couldn't see his wand but I felt it, digging into me. I just remember pain. Horrible burning pain."
Professor Snape nodded his head, before turning to look at Professor Dumbledore. "It's a variation of the Dark Mark." He said, "On first glance it appears to be the same but if you look closer you can see that the skull is narrower and the snake longer."
"Is it—is it like yours?" Hermione asked quietly, causing him to turn back to her. "Can he call me to him?"
"No, Miss Granger that would only be possible is the Dark Lord himself had given it to you." He told her quietly. She could have sworn there was a hint of regret in his voice, but she wasn't sure if it was for what had happened to her or his own choice to receive the mark willingly years ago.
"So you can you get rid of it, right?" Hermione asked, looking hopefully between him and Professor Dumbledore.
"Miss Granger—" Dumbledore began.
"I mean if it's not the real thing then it's…its just like a tattoo and wizards can get rid of tattoos with a spell. It leaves some scaring but it can be done. So just do that." Hermione told them.
"Miss Granger it's not that simple." Professor Snape said.
"Of course it's that simple!" She said, her voice rising. "Vanish it. Scourgify it. Just get rid of it, your wizards you can do that. Just make it go away."
Professor Snape looked back at Dumbledore, who nodded for him to proceed, before he raised his wand and pointed it at her. She flinched terribly and it took a minute before she was steady enough for him to cast the spell.
It was horrible. It was as if it was happening all over again. She withered in pain on the bed, calling out in anguish. It hurt. It hurt so bad, but they couldn't stop not until it was gone.
Professor Snape lifted the spell a moment later at Dumbledore's command. The Dark Mark was still there.
Hermione felt tears well up at the sight of it. It was still there. It wasn't supposed to still be there. She glanced over at Remus who was holding onto the bed frame so tightly his knuckles were white. Dumbledore also appeared apprehensive about what had just happened, or maybe he was just worried about her reaction of it still being there.
"Try again." She whispered.
"What?" Remus asked.
"Please try again, professor." She said looking directly at Professor Snape.
"It won't work Miss Granger—"
"We won't know that until you try everything." She persisted.
"Miss Granger—"
"Please."
"Miss Granger, Professor Snape has already tried everything." Dumbledore said coming forward. "He tried more than just the vanishing charm just now, that's why it took so long. And until we know more, I fear it will only cause you more pain to try to remove it and I won't allow that. Miss Granger, I'm very sorry, but we may never be able to remove it."
Hermione nodded her head slowly, fighting back the tears that were threatening to escape their confines and quickly pulled down her shirt. Maybe when she looked again, it would be gone.
--
"I…Its all kind of jumbled." Hermione said, wringing her hands together. Professor Dumbledore had asked her to come downstairs and describe what had happened at the emergency Order meeting he had called. He had told her that the details might allow them to figure out how they had gotten to her, how they knew where she was. She hadn't wanted to do it then, but she agreed knowing she really didn't have a choice. She wanted to do it now even less. Everyone was staring at her, some people practically gaping.
"Just tell us what you remember." Remus said, patting her hand lightly from next to her. "No one expects more than that."
"They came out of no where, they were hidden in the trees I guess." Hermione began nervously. "They stupefied Ron and then they grabbed me."
"Did you see how many of them there were?" Bill asked her causing her to look up startled. She hadn't realized they were going to be asking questions as well.
"Eight, ten maybe. I'm not really sure. " She told him. He nodded his head which she took for her cue to continue.
"Two of them…two of them grabbed me, pushed me up against a tree but I, I was able to get away. I ran trying to get away to hide in the woods so they wouldn't be able to find me, but it didn't work. They were firing off all these spells and I couldn't avoid them all. One of them hit me with the Cruciatus and then I…I was on the ground and in pain. So much pain." She whispered.
She didn't want to talk about this. She didn't want to see their looks of pity, there looks of understanding when she knew that they didn't understand, or at least not fully. She just wanted to forget it ever happened. To crawl into bed and just never come out.
She glanced over at Professor Snape and found him watching her, no pity in his eyes, no encouraging smile on his face. Instead he was scowling, looking at her as if she was less important then everyone else in the room. Somehow his sneer was easier to focus on then the overwhelming looks of pity on the faces around him and she found herself able to talk again.
"One of them…Mister—Lucius Malfoy came over and pulled me up off the ground. He kept telling me to be a good little girl, that everything would be fine if I just did what I was told." She felt the tears beginning to form. It hurt to remember. It made her feel like she was still out there, like they could still hurt her. "He…He…" She didn't want to tell them what had happened after that. "That's when he took off his mask. I didn't know it was him until then."
"He revealed his identity to you?" Kingsley asked. He sounded surprised.
"He wanted me to know who he was." Hermione said. She could feel the tears spill down her cheeks but she couldn't make them stop. She just wanted it all to stop. "He came closer and he, I could feel his wand in my side. After that all I felt was pain. When he was done I was barely standing but I was still standing and they, they didn't like that." Hermione said swallowing hard. "They took turns trying to make me scream. I…I don't remember anything after that."
"What did Malfoy do to you?" Tonks asked quietly. "Do you know?"
"Maybe its best you show them." Dumbledore told Hermione causing her to look up at him surprised. She didn't want them to see that. She didn't want them even to know about that.
"Albus, really—" Professor McGonagall began, but Dumbledore ignored her protest.
"Go ahead Miss Granger." He said nodding at her encouragingly.
Hermione stood shakily, grabbing at her chair for support. She closed her eyes not wanting to see the Order members' reactions. She lifted her shirt enough for the room to see the offensive mark and she knew, from the cries of outrage and shock that she heard, that they had. They only made the tears come harder.
"I don't remember anything else." Hermione said, pushing her shirt down so you could no longer see the mark. "Can I please go back to my room?"
"Of course." Professor Dumbledore said. "Remus, could you please?"
Remus nodded, taking Hermione by the elbow and smiling down at her as he began to lead her out of the room. "You did wonderfully." He whispered to her.
"Wait just a minute." Someone asked. Hermione and Remus both turned around but she didn't recognize the man who was talking. "Lucius and the other men, they didn't…Are you sure that they didn't do anything else."
"I'm sure." Hermione said quietly. She knew what he was implying and that didn't happen. She wouldn't have let that happen. But she couldn't help but think of the lust in his eyes, the brutal kiss that he had forced upon her. If the Order hadn't found her when they did, could something more of happened. If they found her again, if he did, would it?
"And after they stupefied Mr. Weasley, they left him alone?" The man asked.
"Y-yes." Hermione answered. They had never gone back for Ron, they just left him there. Why didn't they go back for him? And it dawned on her. They weren't interested in him. They only wanted her, just her.
--
Remus carefully guided Hermione up the stairs. He was supporting most of her weight, and he would have carried her if he didn't think it would cause her more distress. She was still crying and he would have been surprised if she could actually see through the tears.
He led her down the hallway, passing Harry, Ron, and Ginny standing in the open doorway to Ron's room. Hermione didn't even notice them, but Remus did. He also noticed the extendable ears hastily shoved in their pockets and the worried looks on their faces. He would have to come and talk to them, find out what they had heard.
He gave them a smile before opening the door for Hermione to Molly and Arthur's room, where he had been told she was to sleep until the effects of the attack had worn off.
"Are you sure you're alright?" He asked, helping her sit down on the edge of the bed.
"I'm fine." She said trying to wipe the tears off her cheeks. She wasn't, not really, but she didn't want to tell him that.
"Severus left this pain potion for you to take before you want to bed." Remus said handing her the potion vial. "Do you need help getting into bed?"
"No." Hermione said shaking her head slightly. She quickly drank the potion, too tired to be able to taste it. Remus took the vial back from her as she climbed into the large bed. It made her look tiny, or maybe it was the look on her face that did that.
"Do you need anything else before I go back to the meeting?" He asked her.
"No" she said quietly.
"Alright, if you're sure. I'll see you in the morning." He told her before turning to leave.
"Wait!" Hermione said grabbing his hand, making him stop. She looked anxious and scared as he turned back to look at her. "I know you're supposed to go back to the meeting," she told him, "but can you stay here? Please, I don't want be alone again."
"Of course I'll stay." He told her with a smile, unable to refuse her request. He conjured up a chair and pulled it up next to the bed.
"Thank you." She said. She still hadn't let go of his hand.
--
The wind whipped around her as she felt herself pushed harder into the ground. She could see the silver mask hovering above her, as gloved hands held her wrists at her side. Tears were prickling behind her eyes as her vision began to blur. This wasn't happening, not again. They had promised her that she would be safe, promised that they would never be able to hurt her again. But here she was again, locked in the center of a circle of Death Eaters, knowing that this was never going to end well.
The man roughly pushed her hair out of her face, painfully grazing the large bruise on the side of her head from where she had hit her head on the frozen ground before. "Do you think your friends are going to miraculously appear and save you?" he asked chuckling darkly. "Trust me, they won't."
One by one the silver masks of the surrounding deatheaters fell away, revealing what she never wanted to see. Ron, his eyes glinting dangerously. Remus, with his mouth turned up into a snarl and George and Fred snickering at her pain. And Harry, his emerald eyes filled with malice and hate directed all at her. Something in her broke at the sight and she began to sob harder.
The man's grip tightened around her arms, drawing her attention solely back to him. It was Lucius. And she knew she shouldn't be surprised but she couldn't help but gasp. "No one is coming to save you this time." He told her.
She closed her eyes, so not have to see him smirking down at her, but she could still feel him pulling at her, at her clothing, practically shaking her. She was worried about what he would do. He hadn't had a chance to seriously harm her before, but now he had all the time he would need. No one was coming to save her. Everyone was against her.
He continued shaking her, harder now, and she could hear him yelling at her, but she couldn't understand what he was saying.
"Hermione. Hermione!"
He was saying her name, calling it out, but it didn't sound like him. It was not his usually silky voice, instead it was panicked and rough. More words were added to what he was saying, but she couldn't make them out, couldn't understand what he was trying to tell her.
Her eyes snapped open and for a moment she was the same silver mask looming over her, before it faded away to reveal Remus's panicked face.
"Its okay Hermione, you were having a nightmare." He told her, "But your fine now, its over. It's all over."
Hermione looked around the room; he was right she was back at the burrow, safe with Remus at her side. She had never even really left. But then why did had it felt so real? Why did she feel like she had been back in the woods again, violated again, and this time from her friends as well.
"Hermione, are you alright?" Remus asked her.
"No." Hermione whispered, before she buried her head in his shoulder. And for the first time in a long time, she answered that question truthfully.
--
Harry and Ron stood nervously outside Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's bedroom door. Remus had told them that Hermione had said it was alright for them to come see her, but neither one knew what to say to her, to make her feel better. After the attack, Ron had been instructed to stay in his room until he recovered from the shock of what happened. He remembered very little but was still quite bothered by the experience. Harry had been let into see him after a little while and told him what was going on with Hermione, that hadn't made him any less bothered.
Harry had been pretty freaked out himself. He hadn't known what had happened out in the woods and no one would or could tell him anything. After Professor Dumbledore had arrived no one would let him back into the room to see Hermione, no matter how hard he tried to make them. They kept telling him that they were healing her and that it would only cause her more distress if he went bursting in there. Part of him knew that they were right, but another part didn't care and wanted to run in there anyways. They had already let Snape in there, it wasn't as if he would cause any more distress then he was.
He had calmed down slightly though, when they let him in to see Ron. Seeing that he was okay, made him think that Hermione would be too. Together the two of them waited, hoping that someone would allow them into see Hermione.
Ginny came in a little bit later to bring Ron some dinner and tell them about the emergency Order meeting that Dumbledore had called downstairs. Apparently the downstairs of the Burrow was crawling with Order members, and they weren't allowed down there unless there was some sort of emergency. She did manage to grab some extendable ears before her mother could stop her though and the three of them sat in Ron's room listening to what had happened below.
Harry half wished that they hadn't of listened. As much as he wanted to hear it, wanted to know what had happened, listening to Hermione tearfully explain what had occurred had hurt, making him sick to his stomach. It was horrible. It was horrible to have to sit there and listen to it, and not be able to rush in there and stop them from making her talk, not to be able to do anything about it.
And now he knew what had happened. All of the horrible things that they had done, everything that scared her, terrified her last night. And he didn't know what to say to her. He knew everything that he hated to hear when people tried to comfort him; that everything would be okay, that it was over now and that's all that mattered, that they understood. He hated it when those things were said but now he understood what made people say them. Sometimes they were the only things to say.
Harry raised his hand and knocked on the door, best to just go in there, she already knew that they were coming. He heard Hermione call for them to come in and he pushed the door open, nodding for Ron to go first before following him in, quietly closing the door behind him.
When he saw Hermione lying in bed, Harry couldn't hide his reaction. He had never seen her like this, so fragile, so broken. Guilt over not being in the forest with them washed over him. He should have been there. He should have stopped this.
"Hi guys." She said quietly. She sounded tired.
"Hey, Hermione." Ron said quietly, slowly approaching the bed, Harry behind him. "How you feelin'?"
"Fine, I'm fine. Are you okay?" She asked him. She seemed to be searching his face, to see if there was anything to show her that he had been hurt worse then let on the night before. He looked alright, but that didn't mean he was.
"Of course I'm okay!" Ron said stepping closer to her. "It's you, you should be worried about. I'm sorry Hermione. I'm really sorry. I was so stupid to take you out alone last night. I should never—"
"It's not your fault Ron." She told him quietly. "None of it was your fault. I'm just so sorry that you got hurt."
"I'm fine." He reiterated, "Trust me I got the better half of the arrangement considering what happened to….you…" He trailed off, hoping his bluntness hadn't upset her.
"What did happen?" Harry asked, finally speaking up. Last night when she had been talking to the Order, it had sounded like she hadn't told them everything. Maybe she would tell them, tell him.
"I'd really rather not talk about it right now." Hermione said looking down at her hands. If it was up to her right now, neither of them would ever find out everything that had happened in the woods last night.
"We—we heard what you told the Order." Ron said.
"Then you know what happened." Hermione said sharply, "You shouldn't need me to explain it again."
"We just want to make sure that your okay." Harry said reaching out for her hand. She flinched away from him, surprised by the sudden contact and looked up at him wide-eyed.
"Hermione."
She could tell that she upset him, that he had taken it personal and not realized the real reason behind her shying away away. "I'm getting kind of tired." She told them. "Would you mind coming back later so I can get some sleep?" She didn't really want to be alone again, when she was alone all she could think about was the attack, but their guilty, worried looks were too much for her to take.
"No, course not." Ron said, "We understand."
"Yeah, we'll come back later." Harry said nodding his head, following Ron to the door. He looked back to see Hermione already lying down, facing the opposite wall. He had thought she looked fragile before, but seeing her in bed, looking so lost, frightened at the slightest touch. It was too much for him. He was almost glad that she's asked him to leave. He didn't know how much more he could have taken.
--
Hermione had cried herself to sleep after Harry and Ron had left. It was all too much to take. She couldn't handle it. Every time she closed her eyes, every time there was nothing to distract her, all she could think about was what had happened in the forest. Seeing Ron, hearing him apologize had just brought it all crashing down on he again. He could have been killed; he could have died because they were after her. And he apologized to her. He blamed himself when he had done absolutely nothing wrong. This wasn't fair, not to him, not to Harry, not to her. She just wanted it to all go away, for them to be kids again, worried about homework and scary professors again, not worried about attacks and deatheaters and being the death of someone they loved so much.
She had no rest from her thoughts, even when she was asleep. In her dreams she kept going back into the forest, horrible things happening to her. Sometimes it was just like what had happened, other times worse things happened, to her, to Ron. This time Harry had been there as well because he had wanted to see the fairies too. Both he and Ron had died and it had been her fault. She had had to watch it but she wasn't able to stop it.
She had woken up not long ago, still crying from her dream.
She heard the door to her room open and Hermione quickly tried to wipe the tears away. She couldn't see who had come in from the angle she was laying at, but she knew that Mrs. Weasley had a tendency to just walk in without knocking whenever she had something for her to eat. She couldn't really blame her though; it was her room after all.
"I'm not hungry Mrs. Weasley." She said hoping her voice was clearer then it sounded to her. "I'm really rather tired right now, and I'd like to be left alone so I can sleep."
"No one's ever called me my mum before. Fred yes, my mum no."
Hermione quickly rolled over to see George coming further into the room, closing the door behind him.
"What are you doing in here?" She asked. Her voice came out even, but more surprised then she would have liked. She hadn't expected him to come and see her. Before last night, they were barely speaking.
"You've been crying." He said stepping forward towards the bed.
"I'm fine." She said quickly.
"You're not fine." He said shaking his head.
"Your right, I'm not." She told him, "I was attacked last night; of course I'm not alright." She was tired of people telling her how she should be feeling. Of assuming they knew what she was feeling.
"I'm sorry." He mumbled. She could tell she had hurt his feelings. Part of her felt guilty, another part just didn't care anymore.
"You don't have anything to be sorry for." She told him in a kinder voice. The guilty part of her had one out, but only slightly.
"If I had—"
"This doesn't have anything to do with you George." Hermione told him sharply.
"There used to be a time we could talk. That was one of the best things about our relationship, we didn't tell each other everything, but we told each other the important things." He looked up at her hopefully, as if expecting her to break down and tell him everything.
"Things change, George." Hermione said quietly. "We broke up, they have to."
His face fell, but he nodded his head in acceptance before turning to leave.
"I'm sorry." She whispered, though she doubted that he heard her. If he had, he hadn't stopped to turn around or look at her. He had just kept walking and she couldn't blame him.
She hated to see that look on his face, to know that she had caused it. But she couldn't deal with this right now, she couldn't be the one to comfort him and make him feel better. She needed to make herself feel better first. And honestly, they did both need to move on; he needed to accept that and so did she. No matter how much it hurt.
--
Harry pulled out his chair at the table and sat down next to Ron for dinner. He glanced around the table to see that most of the house occupants were already there, Tonks and Mrs. Weasley still running around working on dinner and Kingsley and Bill in the living room talking about something quietly. Hermione was still not there again and by the looks of the number of place settings on the table, no one was expecting her.
"Is Hermione coming down to dinner?" Ron asked, voicing Harry's question. Half the table stopped talking at the question, while the other half began talking louder to fill the void. Apparently he and Ron weren't the only one to feel Hermione's absence.
"Hermione's still not feeling very well." Mrs. Weasley explained. "She's not quite up to eating dinner down here quite yet."
"It's been three days." Harry said, "I thought she was supposed to be feeling better."
Harry noticed Mr. and Mrs. Weasley share a look, but it was Remus who answered. "Harry, Hermione was subjected to large amount of the Cruciatus curse. Not enough to leave any long term effects, but long enough to cause some temporary ones." He told him, "It will most likely take some time before she feels completely better. It may take even longer before she feels entirely comfortable around such a large group of people."
Harry nodded his head in understanding, but honestly, he didn't really understand.
--
There was a shout from a room nearby, then a crash and a scream.
"RON?" Harry yelled, turning quickly from the monstrous transformation taking place before them. "GINNY? LUNA?"
"Harry!" Hermione screamed.
The Death Eater had pulled his head out of the bell jar. His appearance was utterly bizarre, his tiny baby's head bawling loudly while his thick arms flailed dangerously in all directions, narrowly missing Harry, who ducked. Harry raised his wand but to his amazement Hermione seized his arm.
"You can't hurt a baby!"
There was no time to argue the point. Harry could hear more footsteps growing louder from the Hall of Prophecy they had just left and knew, too late, that he ought not to have shouted and given away their position.
"Come on!" he said again, and leaving the ugly baby-headed Death Eater staggering behind them, they took off for the door that stood ajar at the other end of the room, leading back into the black hallway.
They had run halfway toward it when Harry saw through the open door two more Death Eaters running across the black room toward them. Veering left he burst instead into a small, dark, cluttered office and slammed the door behind them.
"Collo—" began Hermione, but before she could complete the spell the door had burst open again and the two Death Eaters had come hurtling inside. With a cry of triumph, both yelled, "IMPEDIMENTA!"
Harry, Hermione, and Neville were all knocked backward off their feet. Neville was thrown over the desk and disappeared from view, Hermione smashed into a bookcase and was promptly deluged in a cascade of heavy books; the back of Harry's head slammed into the stone wall behind him, tiny lights burst in front of his eyes, and for a moment he was too dizzy and bewildered to react.
"WE'VE GOT HIM!" yelled the Death Eater nearest Harry, "IN AN OFFICE OFF—"
"Silenco!" cried Hermione, and the man's voice was extinguished. He continued to mouth through the hole in his mask, but no sound came out; he was thrust aside by his fellow.
"Petrificus Totalus!" shouted Harry, as the second Death Eater raised his wand. His arms and legs snapped together and he fell forward, facedown onto the rug at Harry's feet, stiff as a board and unable to move at all.
"Well don Ha—"
But the Death Eater Hermione had just struck dumb made a sudden slashing movement with his wand from which flew a streak of what looked like a purple flame. It passed right across Hermione's chest, she gave a tiny "oh!" as though of surprise and then crumpled onto the floor where she lay motionless.
"HERMIONE!"
Harry fell to his knees beside her as Neville crawled rapidly toward her from under the desk, his wand held up in front of him. The Death Eater kicked out hard at Neville's head as he emerged—his foot broke Neville's wand in two and connected with his face—Neville gave a howl of pain and recoiled, clutching his mouth and nose. Harry twisted around, his own wand held high, and saw that the Death Eater had ripped off his mask and was pointing is wand directly at Harry, who recognized the long, pale, twisted face from the Daily Prophet: Antonin Dolohov, the wizard who had murdered the Prewetts.
Dolohov grinned. With his free hand, he pointed from the prophecy still clutched in Harry's hand, to himself, then at Hermione. Though he could no longer speak his meaning could not have been clearer. Give me the prophecy, or you get the same as her…
"Like you won't kill us all the moment I hand it over anyway!" said Harry.
A whine of panic inside his head was preventing him thinking properly. He had one hand on Hermione's shoulder, which was still warm, yet did not dare look at her properly. Don't let her be dead, don't let her be dead, it's my fault if she's dead…
"Whaddever you do, Harry," said Neville fiercely from under the desk, lowering his hands to show a clearly broken nose and blood pouring down his mouth and chin, "don'd gib it to him!"
Then there was a crash outside the door, and Dolohov looked over his shoulder—the baby headed Death Eater had appeared in the doorway, his head bawling, his great fists still flailing uncontrollably at everything around him.
Harry seized his chance: "PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!"
The spell hit Dolohov before he could block it, and he toppled forward across his comrade, both of them rigid as boards and unable to move an inch.
"Hermione," said at once, shaking her as the baby-headed Death Eater blundered out of sight again. "Hermione, wake up…."
"Whaddid he do to her?" said Neville, crawling out from under the desk again to kneel at her other side, blood streaming from his rapidly swelling nose.
"I dunno…"
Neville groped for Hermione's wrist.
"I can't finb a pulse." Neville told him looking up panicked. "I can't finb a pulse!"
A powerful wave of distress swept over Harry and he felt light-headed. She couldn't be dead. She couldn't be.
"No, she's alive." Harry told him. "She has to be. You must be looking in the wrong place." He pulled Hermione's wrist out of Neville's hand and frantically searched for a pulse himself. He couldn't find it.
"No, no, no. You can't be dead. You can't be. Hermione wake up." He said. "Wake up Hermione!"
He lowered himself so his ear was above her mouth so he could hear her breathing, feel it. But he couldn't hear it, couldn't feel it. Harry's heart sank in his chest. This couldn't be happening. This wasn't supposed to happen. She was supposed to be fine, they were supposed to carry her out of there and the Order would come and lots of bad things were going to happen, but she was supposed to be okay, she was supposed to be alive.
"Come on Hermione, wake up." He said shaking her. She felt limp in his arms and he felt himself begin to cry. "You have to wake up." He yelled at her, "This can't be real. This can't be happening. Just wake up. Please, wake up!"
Harry bolted up in bed, drenched in sweat and breathing heavily. It took him a moment to recognize that he was at the Burrow, sleeping in the bed across from Ron and not back in the Department of Mysteries again. It didn't calm him though. The feelings of loss were still there, everything had been so real and he felt like he had just watched his best friend die.
This wasn't the first time he had dreamt about that night, dreamt about watching her crumple onto the floor, about the fear of her dying in front of him, because of him. But this was first time that the dream had changed, that his imagination had created something scarier than the reality of what did happen that night. Before tonight it hadn't had to, it had been scary enough.
He had to fight the urge to jump out of bed and go to Hermione, just to make sure she was alright, that she really was safe and alive. But it was the middle of the night and if he went charging in there, it would only scare her and he didn't want to do that, so he stayed where he was. But he didn't fall asleep again that night. Instead the image of himself desperately shaking Hermione's limp body as he yelled for her to wake up kept replaying in his head keeping him awake.
--
Hermione sat in the middle of the bed, tracing the Dark Mark on her hip with her finger. She had grown to hate it in a very short time. Professor Dumbledore had told her that there was no way to remove it, that it may always be there. Professor Snape had tried to vanish it, and it had been incredibly painful and done no good, but that hadn't stopped her from trying to get rid of it herself. But it was still there. No matter what she did, no matter how many times she tried, it was still there. A reminder of what they did to her, to how close they had gotten, to the fact that they could have killed her if they really had wanted too.
"Knock, knock," came Remus's voice from the open doorway.
She looked up and smiled briefly before telling him to come in. She hoped he couldn't tell the smile was forced.
"I hope you don't mind me coming up here," he told her pulling the chair up to her bed. "I just wanted to see if you felt like coming downstairs for dinner."
"I don't think so Remus…" She told him. "I'd rather stay up here for now."
"Well then maybe Harry and Ron and I could eat up here with tonight." He suggested.
"No, it's alright. I don't want to put anyone out." She told him shaking her head. "Besides I'm not very hungry right now."
"I understand." Remus said nodding his head gravely. And he did understand. He knew what it felt like to be attacked, he had seen the after effects of attacks on others, felt them himself. He understood where she was coming from; he just wished that there was something more he could do. That he could convince her that she could come out of this room and everything would be alright, that she didn't need to hide. That she was safe. He had promised her once before that she would be safe and he hadn't been able to keep that promise, this time he would. He would make sure that she was safe. Now, if only he could convince her of that.
"Molly or I will come back with your dinner a little bit later." He told her standing up, "I hope feel better."
He smiled at her before turning and walking back to the door, when her quiet, almost child like, voice stopped him.
"It's never coming off is it?" she asked causing him to turn back around. "How am I going to explain it to people? My parents? My roommates who know what it means? Will they even believe me when I tell them what happened?"
"Hermione, I know it must be hard." He said perching himself on the edge of the bed. She looked so sad, so scared of what it meant, he couldn't help but want to comfort her. "But that symbol doesn't define you; it is nothing like who you are. You have to remember that."
She nodded her head, but he could tell that she didn't believe it, or at least not fully. "We'll figure it out, Hermione, I promise you we will." He told her. "Until then, you can use glamour charms; no one will ever be able to see it."
"But it'll still be there." She said looking up at him. His heart broke at the look in her eyes.
"Yes, it'll still be there." He told her.
--
Remus left a few minutes later, passing Harry and Ron on the stairs on the way. Harry immediately took notice of the upset look on his face and where he had just come from. He tapped Ron on the shoulder and motioned for him to quietly follow him up to his room.
"What's going on?" Ron asked quietly as Harry began rooting around in his trunk.
"Something's up." Harry told him. "Remus took Ginny's extendable ears when he caught us listening, but I know I have some in here somewhere."
"Here they are!" Harry said victoriously a few minutes later. He passed one to Ron and stuck one in his own ear, before quietly creeping out into the hallway and down onto the staircase where they were able to hear into the kitchen. It took a moment, but soon they could hear Mrs. Weasley's voice.
"I wish she would let someone in, talk to someone." She said. "She won't talk to me, she won't talk to youGeorge tried to get her to talk to him but she didn't tell him anything. She'll let Harry and Ron into the room, but that's not very often and from what I can tell she doesn't tell them anything."
"The Burrow was supposed to be safe;" Remus's voice came. "The Death Eaters destroyed that for her. I fear they took the last of her innocence as well."
"Remus—"
"She hasn't been a child for years, Molly, none of them have." Mr. Weasley said. "They've seen far too much for them still to be."
"It's the Dark Mark that's really affecting her." Remus said. "I think she's afraid of what it means."
"It doesn't mean anything." Molly said shaking her head, "The Death Eaters are just trying to intimidate her, scare her."
"Yes and unfortunately it's working." Tonks voice came.
"The Dark Mark?!" Ron exclaimed, pulling the extendable ear out. "What are they talking about?"
Harry had forgotten, Ron hadn't seen the mark, he had still been recovering himself and Harry had never gotten around to telling him. He was still in shock over it himself. "The Death Eaters….You remember in the Order meeting when Dumbledore told Hermione to show everyone something. Well that's what it was." He explained. He watched the color drain out of Ron's face.
"I can't believe they did that." Ron whispered.
"Neither could she." He said before putting the extendable ear back in. A moment later, still white-faced, Ron did the same.
"The amount of power it would take to destroy that mirror—" Remus's voice came.
"She shattered a mirror she didn't blow up the entire house." Tonks said the sarcasm clear in her voice.
"You don't understand, you didn't see it." Remus told her. "She didn't just shatter it, she destroyed it. The largest pieces of glass were centimeters in size, blasted across the room with the wooden frame completely intact, not a scratch on it. The fact is she looked in the mirror and hated what she saw, so she made it so she didn't have to look at it. The power it would take to do that without a wand, is much more then that of a sixth year. The type of power he's looking for."
"I know Dumbledore said he believed it to be her, but surely you don't think it's her." Mrs. Weasley said.
"I think that he has good reason to think it's her." Remus told her.
"And what exactly do the two of you think your doing?" Bill's deep voice came from above them. Harry looked up startled, straining to see Bill standing at the top of the steps looking down at them.
"We were…umm…" Ron began, standing up.
"George and Fred asked us to test some new extendable ears." Harry said, trying his best to come up with a believable lie. To bad his best wasn't better.
"Sure they did." Bill said rolling his eyes at them both. He caught sight of Ron's pale face and stopped, realizing that the situation had been harder on them then he realized. He knew that Hermione had barely been out of her room and it was bound to affect them, he knew the hold that she had over the boys. There was probably no one closer to them, but each other; they were the only ones that even begun to know what the each other had gone through over the years.
"You know what, I think I'll pull the cool older brother card now and if you guys leave and give me the extendable ears, I won't tell anyone or ask you what you heard."
--
Harry dreamt about the Department of Mysteries again that night, only this time it had been Hermione who had fallen behind the veil instead of Sirius. Her eyes had locked onto his own as she fell, as if asking him why he had done this to her, why he hadn't saved her. It was an expression he hoped never to see again. He could still feel the hollowness from that night, the emptiness and sorrow had faded but it was still there. And it felt like it had just happened again. Only this time, it felt like he had lost not only Sirius but Hermione as well.
Slowly, and as quietly as he could, Harry made his way down the stairs and towards the kitchen with the excuse of wanting a drink, but if he was honest with himself than he would admit that a part of him, a very large part, hoped that Hermione would be downstairs making herself a cup of tea, just like she had been days ago. She had barely been out of her room since the attack, only leaving when forced or to use the bathroom. She hadn't talked to him, hadn't come to him for help. He just wanted to fix it, to fix her, but he didn't know how.
She wasn't in the kitchen when he got there. And she didn't arrive in the thirty minutes he spent drinking water waiting to see if she came. He pushed away the feeling of disappointment and made his way back upstairs. He was just passing Hermione's room, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's normally, when he heard her inside. She sounded like she was crying, whimpering as if she was in pain or terrified. He couldn't not go in, couldn't leave her alone.
He slowly opened the door poking his head inside the room. Hermione was lying in the middle of bed, tangled up in the sheets, obviously still asleep and having a nightmare. Apparently this was not the night for anyone to sleep well at the Burrow, even those who deserved it.
"Hermione." He said sitting down on the bed. "Hermione wake up."
She moaned, as if in pain, but that was her only answer.
"Hermione, its okay. Wake up." Harry said gently shaking her shoulder.
Hermione instantly flinched at the contact, going from quiet pain to full out thrashing around. Harry tried to calm her down, putting his hands on both her shoulders but she continued fighting him, slapping and hitting whatever she could reach. She was still asleep, fighting her nightmares.
"Hermione! Hermione wake up!" Harry said loudly, loud enough for her eyes to snap open in horror. She continued fighting him, this time harder, struggling to free herself from his grip on her shoulders. She didn't know who he was; she didn't know why he was there. "Hermione it's me! It's Harry!" He told her, trying to avoiding her fists. "I'm not going to hurt you Hermione. No one's going to hurt you!"
Hermione's look of horror quickly transformed into a look of surprise, her hands still up in the air prepared to hit Harry again. Her look of surprise quickly changed into a look of fear and sadness as tears began to well up in her eyes and stream down her face. Harry hated to see her look like that. "Hermione it's okay, it was just a nightmare." He told her.
"No it wasn't," Hermione whispered quietly, "No it wasn't." And she moved herself closer to him, putting her head on his shoulder and lowering her arms and wrapping them around him, fisting his t-shirt in her hands as if to make sure he couldn't leave.
"Hermione…"
"I keep dreaming of that night in the forest. It's not always the same, sometimes it's different, sometimes its worse, but it's always terrifying." Her voice was barely a whisper and if he wasn't sitting so close to her he wouldn't have been able to make out what she was saying.
"Hermione…I know it's scary, trust me I know, but…" He didn't know what to tell her. His own dreams had haunted him long enough to know that there wasn't a way to stop them from bothering him. She could tell herself that they weren't real; she could tell herself that dreams can't come true, but that wouldn't make the feelings go away, it wouldn't take the images away. He looked down at her to see that the tears streaming down her face, a lost look in her eyes. He didn't know what to do to help her, so he shifted his position so he was sitting up on the bed right next to her, pulling her closer as he wrapped his arms tighter around her. "It's okay Hermione." He told her, awkwardly patting her shoulders. "I'm here now…and you don't have to be alone anymore."
She nodded and then moved her head down so it was resting on his chest as she began to relax in his presence. It wasn't a lot but at least it was something. It was more than he had gotten from her before. She was still crying, she was still scared and she never did go back to sleep that night, but he was there and this time when she cried, she wasn't alone.
--
Harry didn't leave Hermione's room for a very long time. Though she didn't say much, she had attached herself to him and every time she thought he was going to leave her grip on him tightened. Harry didn't mind. Being with her, knowing that his presence was somehow comforting, despite him not knowing what to do, let him feel like he was doing something, as miniscule as it may be.
Remus had found them in there that morning and he was surprised but he did his best not to show it. Harry could tell that he was just happy that Hermione was opening up to someone. But that was the problem; she wasn't opening up to him. She didn't talk much, not like she normally did, and when she did, it wasn't of any importance. She didn't talk about what happened, she didn't talk about her dreams, she didn't tell him why she was still so scared. She would talk about school, she talked about Christmas and what they had both bought the others. And he was glad, glad that she was talking, glad that she trusted him enough to let him stay in the room with her. But he just wished that he could do something more. That he could fix whatever was wrong.
He stayed with her the whole day, eating with her, sitting with her. He only left when he had to use the bathroom and once to change his clothes. He stayed with her until he was tired to stay awake, when Hermione noticed she sent him off to his own room, apologizing profusely for keeping him there with her when he had better things to do. He told her that he wasn't tired, that he wanted to stay, but she ignored his words, a guilty look on her face, and in the end he left, no matter how much he didn't want to.
Harry hadn't slept well after he left. No matter how tired he was, he couldn't turn his thoughts off as they repeatedly reminded him of the girl down the hall and how much she was hurting. Hours later he fell into a troubled slumber, but his mind was never off of Hermione.
When he woke up the next morning he dressed quickly, hurrying downstairs to grab some breakfast for himself and Hermione, but when he got there Mrs. Weasley had just shook her head. "I already took her breakfast." She explained, "And she said that she'd like to be alone right now and for no one to bother her for a little while."
"But I'm allowed to go in, right?" Harry asked her. "She said I could?"
"No, sweetheart, she said no one." Mrs. Weasley said gently.
Harry felt like the air had been kicked out of him. And suddenly he wasn't very hungry. He grabbed a piece of toast off the table before returning upstairs to Ron's room. He left the door and sat down on the far end of the bed, the side of the bed where he could see right into the hallway, the side of the bed that looked directly down the hall where he knew Hermione was.
--
Ron came back up after breakfast and asked him what had happened the day before and Harry had explained, keeping some things to himself that he thought Hermione might not want people to know, even Ron. Some things he kept to himself because he didn't want to worry Ron. He was upset having to see Hermione's pale lost face, Ron didn't have to be.
Together Harry and Ron spent the day in his room, playing chess, talking about Quidditch, building card houses out of exploding snap cards; all in a place where Harry could see if Hermione's door opened. It never did.
Later that night, after most of the family and Order members had gathered downstairs to celebrate Christmas Eve, Harry and Ron were still upstairs, playing chess. They had been playing this game for over an hour and Harry knew that Ron had had the opportunity to win several times, but had chosen not to so the game would last longer so they would have an excuse to stay upstairs. They had promised Mrs. Weasley that they would join the festivities when they were done with that game, they had just never promised that it would end soon.
"Hey guys." Remus said stepping into the doorway. "Still playing that same game?"
"Yeah, this one seems to being taking awhile." Ron said looking at the board thoughtfully.
"I think I'm getting better at it." Harry said looking up at Remus.
"It was bound to happen after awhile." Ron said with a grin.
"Well it's good to see you having fun." Remus told them. "But Ron, Molly would like you to come down stairs and join the family if that's alright."
Ron nodded his head in acceptance and stood up. They had both been waiting for someone to come and tell them to come downstairs.
"And Harry, Professor Dumbledore is here. He was hoping that the two of you could speak privately." Remus said. "Ron, you don't mind if they talk in here do you?"
"No, no I don't care." Ron said shaking his head.
"Good." Remus said, "Then come along with me and Harry, the Headmaster will be here in just a moment."
"Okay." Harry said as he watched the two men leave, Ron turning around enough to give Harry a questioning look that Harry answered with a shrug. He didn't know what Dumbledore wanted to talk to him about either.
"Hello Harry." Dumbledore said a few minutes later as he walked in the door. Harry noticed that he closed it behind them.
"Professor Dumbledore." Harry said, squirming in his seat as he watched the Headmaster sit down on Ron's bed across from him. It was odd to see him in someplace other then Hogwarts, to see him at the Burrow as if he should be there, when really he shouldn't be. Most headmasters weren't required to go to their students' homes so frequently.
"I hope you don't mind me intruding on your holiday." Dumbledore told him.
"I don't mind." Harry said.
"I'm glad to hear that Harry." He said with a smile. "I wished to speak to and after talking with Mrs. Weasley I felt it best that I come by now, instead of waiting to talk with you at Hogwarts as I had planned."
"What did Mrs. Weasley say?" Harry asked.
"She's just worried, about you, about Mr. Weasley, about Miss Granger."
"About Hermione?"
"I see you're worried about her as well."
"Of course I'm worried about her!" Harry said standing. "She's in that room all alone. She won't let anyone in. And all because…. Why her? Why did they have to choose her? She doesn't deserve this, not at all. She hasn't done anything."
"Yes Harry, she has."
"What?" Harry asked looking up at the man in disbelief. How could he blame Hermione for this? She had done nothing wrong; she didn't deserve what had happened to her. No one deserved that, but especially not Hermione.
"She stood up to him Harry." Dumbledore explained calmly. "She has declared to the world that she believes Voldemort to be evil; she's even able to say his name. She is strong and she is dedicated and willing to do anything for what and who she believes in. Is it any wonder why he chose her?"
"It's just not fair." Harry said sinking down onto the bed, ignoring Dumbledore's intense gaze. "She hasn't left her room, she doesn't talk. She's scared, I know she is, but I can't fix it. She won't tell me how to fix it. I just want my friend back, but I'm scared that I won't be able too."
--
Hermione sat alone in her room on the window ledge, a blanket wrapped around her as she stared at the snow falling down outside. She could no longer see that path that had led her and Ron away from the Burrow and into the hands of the enemy. It was almost as if someone was trying to cover up what happened there, make it disappear. She wished it was that simple, that a blanket of snow could truly cover up what happened, make the bruises disappear, cover up the aches in her bones and the chilling nightmares of that night that never seemed to stop.
She could still feel their hands on her, his lips on her own. She felt violated, no matter how many baths she took or how hard she had scrubbed. Their masks were still engraved in her mind, as was Ron's frozen body. She felt lost, inadequate at not being able to stop them, at needing saved again. She felt weak and tired and she hated that feeling but didn't know what to do to make it go away.
She was pulled out of her thoughts by a knock on her door. She closed her eyes and hoped that they would go away. She didn't want to see anyone; she wasn't ready to see anyone. Something no one seemed to understand. She needed time to process what had happened, to accept what happened. She needed time to compose herself to deal with the emotions she was feeling and she couldn't do that with someone constantly asking her if she was okay, with everyone staring at her, walking on egg-shells around her constantly reminding her of what she was trying to forget. She couldn't convince everyone else was okay, if she couldn't convince herself.
Another knock came this time louder; they obviously weren't going to let her ignore them. She swung her feet over the window seat ledge and stood up. She hoped it wasn't George again, she couldn't stand to see his lost hurt face again. One time had made her feel guilty enough. She would make it up to him someday, if they all lived through this war. They just had to do that first.
She opened the door to see Dumbledore standing there, his bright red robes contrasting deeply with the dark hallway, preparing to knock once again. Professor Snape was standing behind him, less noticeable in his traditional teaching robes. She felt her heart sink at the sight of them. If they were here something else had happened. If they were here then that meant that they would ask questions, that they would expect something of her and right now she couldn't take that.
"Ah, good, I was afraid that we might have caught you sleeping, Miss Granger." Dumbledore said his normal twinkle in his eyes.
"No." Hermione said quietly, pulling her blanket closer around her. At that moment she did want someone there with her. She wanted Harry back. She wanted him there to tell her that everything was going to be okay, to hold her and make sure she knew that she wasn't alone no matter how she felt. She wanted him there to chase Professor Snape away, to answer Professor Dumbledore's questions for her.
"I hope you don't mind us surprising you, but I thought that it would be best if Severus checked up on you, make sure everything is healing correctly."
"Oh...Al—Alright." Hermione stuttered, pulling the door open the rest of the way.
Dumbledore made his way over to the chair Remus had drawn up to the side of the bed, Professor Snape close behind him, placing his black bag on the bed and standing beside it. "Sit, Miss Granger." he instructed her, gesturing to the far end of the bed. Hermione did as she was told, knowing it was best not to argue with him, as she would only lose. Weeks of occulemency lessons had taught her that, if nothing else.
"It appears that most of the scratches and cuts are gone." Professor Snape said observing her closely.
Hermione shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, but nodded in agreement. "Yes." she said quietly. "All of the small ones from the glass have completely disappeared, only a few of the larger ones from the...from the attack are still there."
"Yes, I thought that might be the case." he said, pulling a vial out of his bag. "This will help them heal quicker and the scars fade, when rubbed into the skin. Its much stronger then the last, it should only take one application."
"I...ummm..." Hermione shook her head, recoiling at the thought of him, or anyone else for that matter, touching her long enough for that to work.
"You may do yourself, once we have left." He told, a smirk playing on his lips. He had obviously sensed her discomfort.
"Thank you." she said quietly.
"The bruises?" He asked.
"Only the most severe are left." She told him.
"I can supply you with a salve to apply to those as well." Professor Snape told her.
"It's alright." She said shaking her head. "They aren't that bad."
The bruises left were mainly on her back from withering on the ground, hitting her back as the Cruciatus curse caused her to convulse on the frozen ground. She didn't have a way to reach them and she certainly wasn't going to ask anyone for help. She didn't want them to have to see. She didn't need told how bad they looked.
His eyes narrowed in on her, particularly on her forehead where there was still a remainder of a bruise where she had struck her head against the cold, frozen ground. "I'll leave it, incase you change your mind." he drawled, placing it on the nightstand. "There's no reason to have to make another trip here, just because you haven't looked in a mirror."
Hermione cringed at the insult and looked away. She could see Professor Dumbledore watching the interaction but he seemed distracted and appeared older then she had seen him in a long time. His cheery, holiday robes did nothing to hide the sadness now displayed in his face. That certainly didn't make her feel any better.
"Have you been experiencing any pain? Any unexpected shaking?" Professor Snape asked, making her look back at him.
"No shaking," Hermione said shaking her head, "I've been a little sore, but—"
"Most likely from the Cruciatus." Professor Snape said, nodding his head. "Repeated exposure will affect you for longer periods of time."
Hermione closed her eyes at the reminder. She wondered if they had done it for that reason. To constantly remind her of what they had done, the combined power that they hold over her. As if she could forget it.
"Miss Granger? Are you alright?" Dumbledore asked her.
She opened her eyes to see him, and even Professor Snape, watching her closely a worried expression on their faces. "I'm fine" she assured them.
"Good." He told her. "Professor Snape will be leaving you something for that as well, but be sure not to take too much."
"This vial should contain twelve doses," Professor Snape said holding up a small vial. "One small swallow every twelve hours. You shouldn't need to use it all, but it will help until the pain passes entirely."
"Thank you." Hermione said as he placed that vial next to the other two. More reminders, she didn't know whether to be thankful of the relief they would bring or resentful of the need for them.
"Now, about the dark mark—" Professor Snape began.
"What about it?" Hermione asked quickly.
"Have you experienced any pain from the area around it?" He asked.
"No." Hermione said, her eyes growing worried.
"It hasn't changed colors, or caused any flare ups of pains?" He asked her.
"No."
"That's good," He said, though it seemed to be directed more towards Dumbledore then her.
"Why is that good?" Hermione asked.
"Other then the obvious," Professor Snape said, "It means that it is most likely just symbol, a message, and that it cannot be used like the dark mark."
"Oh." Hermione said, her shoulders sagging from relief. She hadn't been aware of how much she had worried that it was the real thing, that somehow Professor Snape had been wrong. At least now she knew that they couldn't get to her, or at least not through that.
"Well that is a relief." Dumbledore said. His eyes had begun twinkling again as he directed his attention to her. She found comfort in that twinkle. "It seems as if you'll be in tip-top shape in no time, ready to get out of this room."
"Yeah." Hermione said, forcing herself to nod along with him.
"I know this has been difficult for you Miss Granger." Dumbledore continued. "None of us foresaw this attack, not here, and I only wish that we could have done something more to prevent it."
"If only we could prevent all terrible things." He said, his eyes locking on her own. From the corner of her eye, she saw Professor Snape's head snap up as he looked back and forth between them.
"I wish the same thing." Hermione agreed quietly.
"I'm glad to hear you say that Miss Granger." Dumbledore said, "Because there is something I would like to speak to you about, something that may prevent something else terrible from happening."
"Of course." Hermione said. She didn't know what she could do, but if it could prevent anyone else from being hurt like herself, like Ron, then she would do it.
"I understand that we all deal with things in our own ways. When one student gets a bad grade it may lead them to working harder for the next test, another it may discourage and they will get a worse grade on the next test. It all depends on the person."
Hermione nodded in agreement, her gaze shifting to Professor Snape whose expression was now blank, but was continuing to watch the Headmaster closely.
"What happened to you was a horrible thing, Miss Granger." Dumbledore said regaining Hermione's full attention. "But I fear...I fear that in the way you are handling it, that seeing you withdraw into yourself, seeing how much the attack has affected you, will lead Mr. Potter into doing something impulsive and dangerous, in order to fix it."
"What?" Hermione asked.
"You already displayed that you have had similar thoughts when you asked to keep your dreams between us."
"I know but..."
Hermione felt as if the air had been kicked out of her. Had he really just asked her to put her own feelings aside, her own emotional health, to help Harry?
"I would not ask you this if I didn't feel it necessary." He said, sensing her hesitation. "But after speaking with Mr. Potter—"
"You talked to him about it?" Hermione asked, surprised.
"He fears that he's to blame for the attack and he fears that his friend will never return to him. And I fear that he is going to do something foolish and this time there will be no one there to save him." He told her. "I know it is a lot to ask of you Miss Granger, but I think it is best if Mr. Potter sees that you are beginning to move on. Don't you?"
She didn't see how she really had a choice. She couldn't do that to Harry. She couldn't knowingly hurt him and do nothing about it; she would never forgive herself if he put himself in danger for her. The death of Sirius had been so hard on him because he blamed himself as if it had been him that had fired the spell and not Bellatrix. She knew that he had to be blaming himself now as well, for not going with her and Ron, for not getting there sooner, for things he had no control over but always seemed to think he did. And Dumbledore knew that, she knew he did when he asked her that. He was asking her to put Harry ahead of herself and she couldn't say no to it.
Hermione nodded in agreement, unable to look Dumbledore in the eyes. She could see Professor Snape still watching him, as if he too was questioning what he had just done. He appeared unsettled by his request of her and she felt oddly comforted that at least one of the two men in the room with her might have considered her own feelings, even if it wasn't the one she would have thought it to be. She glanced back at Dumbledore to see him smiling softly at her, his eyes twinkling as they watched her. That she no longer felt comforted by.
--
Hermione awoke the next morning to a bed full of presents. She didn't much care at the moment what anyone had gotten her, but she forced herself to open them and be happy with whatever it was she got, Dumbledore's words still ringing in her ears. If Harry believing she was happy, that she was okay, would keep her safe, then she would wear the biggest grin she could without breaking into tears from the pain.
After the last present was opened, a sweater from Mrs. Weasley, Hermione stood slowly before making her way downstairs, where she could already hear voices. She stopped at the bottom of the steps, where she could clearly see the kitchen but no one should notice her. Everyone else was down there already. She could hear Harry and Ron laughing loudly, Mrs. Weasley scolding George and Fred over something that they had done. She was sure, though she couldn't seen them, that Mr. Weasley, and most likely Remus as well, was trying to hide his own amusement over whatever it was they had done.
She felt so disconnected from it all, like she didn't deserve to go into the kitchen because the moment that she did, they would stop laughing and looks of amusement would change into looks of pity and sorrow and she would be reminded of how much she stood out from them now.
She was about to turn around, to go back upstairs and spend the rest of the day there and just try again tomorrow when the holiday spirit had hopefully worn off, when Harry looked up and saw her standing there. A huge smile broke out across his face, reminding her of when he was eleven and had won his first quidditch game, and she couldn't bring herself to turn back.
"Hermione!" He called, pushing his chair back and making his way over to her. "What are you doing down here?"
"Well it is Christmas." Hermione said shrugging her shoulders. "I just thought I should come down, join in the celebration. But I can always go back upstairs if you—"
"No!" Harry said quickly. "I was just surprised. Come on," he said taking her hand to lead her into the kitchen. Hermione took a deep breathe, fighting to urge to run away. "You can sit between me and Ron."
Hermione smiled at him and sat down in the chair that he directed her towards. Ron smiled at her as well and she could see that he too was happy to see her again. Guilt crashed over her at knowing that she had hurt her friends these last few days, that she had caused them to worry about her. But everything just felt so wrong, it still felt wrong. The loud voices hurt her ears, and the laughter seemed almost foreign to her ears after so many days of not hearing it. Every time Ron reached for another piece of bacon, she had to force herself not to react. It was hard. It was so hard.
And everyone tried to act as if this was normal, as if nothing had happened and she hadn't just spent the last week cooped up in her room unwilling to see almost everyone. But when they thought she wasn't looking, when they thought that Harry and Ron really had distracted her with talks of what they had both gotten for Christmas, she noticed them watching her worried, noticed them sharing looks with one another.
George didn't seem to be looking at her at all. Perhaps she had been too harsh with him, but maybe it was better this way. Maybe it was what they needed to put some distance between them. But it still hurt that he wouldn't look at her, even if she didn't deserve it.
"You okay?" Harry asked leaning over, causing her to jump in surprise. She forced herself to smile back at him.
"Better than I've been in days." She told him. He smiled back at her seemingly happy with her answer. And it made her feel a tiny bit better that at least someone was benefiting from her charade because it certainly wasn't her.
A/N: So, I'm back and with the longest chapter I've ever written. Hopefully that makes up for lack of update for a while. This chapter was incredibly hard to write because I was trying to make sure I was realistic with Hermione's feelings. Being attacked, especially in the way that she was isn't something that you get over quickly and I wanted to make sure that I expressed her feelings in a true manner. It would be unfair to you guys and to the character if I didn't.
As always, I'm sorry for the grammatical and spelling errors. Still no beta, just me. But if someone would like to volunteer to beta for this story, I might just take you up on it. You'd get advanced copies of the chapter, if anyone's interested.
Please Review!! I always love to hear from you guys and you have such wonderful things to say and ideas that I would never have thought of. I try really hard to reply to everyone, but if I do miss you, sorry but I always appreciate what you guys have to say.