Chapter Eleven:
Wearing Thin
"She never slows down.
She doesn't know why but she knows
That when she's all alone,
Feels like it's all coming down
She won't turn around
The shadows are long
And she fears if she cries that first tear,
The tears will not stop raining down"
-Stand in the Rain by Superchick
Hermione snapped the library book shut and pushed it away, sighing deeply. For the last few days she had been spending every available moment she had in the library trying to figure out what had been happening to her. She was so tired and she wanted desperately to sleep, but she couldn't allow that, not until she found out what had happened, what had caused a dream to affect her like it had. Hermione raised a hand to her throat and instantly regretted it; the bruise salve she had gotten from Madame Pomfrey had helped, but it hadn't healed it, not completely. She wished she could go back for more, but the only reason Madame Pomfrey hadn't asked any questions was that she had bruises on her knees from Occlumency lessons to make her story about slipping down the stairs convincing.
Trying to fight back a yawn, Hermione pulled another book towards her. So far she hadn't found anything in the library to help her. She had found books upon books about deciphering the meanings of dreams, about the symbolism of dreams, even books about lucid dreaming, but nothing that helped her. A few books had touched on the subject of dream manipulation but what little she could find on that involved someone one manipulating their own dreams, never someone else's. She had found one book that said that there were rumors that some had found a way to manipulate others dreams using dark magic but there had been no details about what it entailed or where she could find more information about it.
Hermione was beginning to get desperate. She was on her last stack of books that might be helpful and if there was nothing there, then all she had left was to find a way into the restricted section to look there. And if she didn't find something there, she didn't know what she was going to do.
She had always hated the nightmares, hated the images they made her see, hated the feelings they left within her. But now she wasn't just scared about what she would see when she fell asleep, she was scared about what would happen. Professor Snape had found her blindly running down the corridors, what if her dream had really taken her outside, what if she had wandered into the forbidden forest or off of school grounds all together? She had woken up with bruises and pain caused by actions that had taken place in a dream. What if something worse happened, what if she was killed in her dream, would she die in the real world as well? She didn't want to find out the hard way. She hadn't slept at all since her dream about Sirius. She had been staying awake through large amounts of coffee and pepper-up potion that she had pilfered from Madame Pomfrey, but she knew she wasn't going to be able to hold out much longer. Pretty soon she was going to crash and when she did, she was going to dream.
Leaning her head on her hand, Hermione flipped open the book in front of her searching for the index. She vaguely heard someone coming up behind her before she felt hands gently moved across her shoulders. The hands began to move in slow firm circles and Hermione's head fell forward, unconsciously trying to give him better access as she gave into the feelings of ease he was creating. It felt absolutely wonderful, as though he knew exactly where she had built up tension.
"Oh George, that feels wonderful." She said leaning back into his touch.
Her exclamation was met with a deep chuckle, one that didn't belong to George. Hermione's whole body stiffened as realization suddenly came crashing down on her; she had broken up with George and even if she hadn't, he was no longer at Hogwarts to give her backrubs when she had worked too long in the library. Panic began to set in and Hermione felt the sudden urge to run from the library, but the hands held her gently in place.
"You do not have to fear me." The deep voice seemed to come from everywhere, washing over her producing a feeling of deep contentment inside her. His hands began to move again, raising themselves higher to tenderly massage the base of her skull. She felt herself leaning back again, a hard chest pressing into her back. Somehow this felt right, as though somehow he could make everything better just by being there.
Suddenly Hermione found herself speaking without realizing it, "I don't fear you." She told him.
She felt him silently laugh, his chest rumbling against her. "But you do not trust me." The silky voice came. She could think of no other way to describe it, it caressed her, leaving her feeling breathless and dazed. She had never heard anything like it before. It seemed almost musical, hypnotic even.
"But not to worry my dear, you will."
Hermione was jerked awake, as someone began roughly shaking her shoulder. She instantly missed the contentment she had felt, the gentle touch; the table beneath her head now seemed hard and as she opened her eyes she found the library lights much too bright. Groaning, Hermione lifted her head off the table and looked up at the boy who had just woken her.
"Sorry, Hermione," Harry said, shrugging at her. "It's almost time for potions, and Snape will deduct a huge amount of points if he finds out you were sleeping when you should be in class."
"No, no it's fine." Hermione said, "I shouldn't have been asleep. I was asleep…I was asleep."
It was finally dawned on Hermione what this meant, she had been dreaming again. Though this dream was far different than any dream she had had before, she didn't know what to think about it. She was thankful that she hadn't been harmed, but…but she couldn't help but feel worried about what had happened. He had felt so right, he had brought comfort with him that she hadn't felt for a long time, and there was a part of her that ached to feel that way again, no matter what the consequences. After all the terrible dreams she had had, she desperately wanted for there to be nothing wrong with this one. But she couldn't shake the feeling that there was. That man could have been anyone, she had never even seen his face, and yet she had trusted him, she had trusted him completely. That worried her. If her dreams had taught her anything it was that they were never what they seemed, something bad always happened.
"Yeah, asleep." Harry said, "It's that thing you do where you close your eyes and dream, or in Ron's case snore."
"I-I know." Hermione said quickly standing up. "I just didn't mean too, obviously." Hermione said beginning to stack the books she had spread out all over the table.
"What are you working on?" Harry asked, handing her a book.
"Just a project." Hermione said, quickly grabbing the book from him. She didn't want him to see what she was researching; it would only lead to questions she didn't want to answer. "It's extra credit, for Defense." Hermione lied, reaching for another book.
Harry's hand shot out, clasping her hand and maneuvering her around the table until she was right in front of him. "Hermione what happened? Who did this?" Harry asked, running his hand over the remains of the bruise on her wrist.
Hermione quickly pulled her hand away, pushing her robe sleeve down. The glamour charm must have worn off. "It's nothing, Harry." Hermione told him.
"It's not nothing, Hermione." Harry said, shaking his head, "Now, tell me what happened." He told her.
"Harry, it really is nothing." Hermione told him, "Last time I was at my occlumency lessons—"
"Snape did this!" Harry cried loudly.
"Of course not, Harry, don't be ridiculous." She said, glancing around the library to see if anyone was watching them after Harry's exclamation. "You know what occlumency lessons are like, every five minutes you end up crashing to the floor. I landed on my wrist the last time I was there and broke something. Professor Snape certainly didn't cause it; he was the one who healed it."
"Why didn't he get rid of the bruise too?" Harry asked.
"He…He told me that maybe the pain would serve as an incentive to finally master occlumency." Hermione told him rolling her eyes.
"Sounds like Snape." Harry muttered, finally accepting her explanation.
"I'm fine, Harry. I promise." She told him. "I really appreciate you waking me up, but why don't you go ahead without me?" She suggested, "I need to put most of these books back and ask Madame Pince where to find one more."
"I could help." Harry said.
"Oh come on Harry, you don't know your way around the library any more then Ron does. It'll be much faster if I just do it myself. I promise not to be late for Potions. Trust me I don't want Professor Snape to take points from Gryffindor any more then you do."
"Alright, I guess," Harry said, though he looked reluctant to leave. "If you're sure."
"I wouldn't have said it if I wasn't, Harry." Hermione told him with a smile.
"Okay, see you in the dungeons." Harry said, turning and making his way back through the library. She waited until she could no longer see his retreating back before she sunk back into her chair. She didn't know what to think anymore. Everything was just so confusing and complicated. She hadn't slept in days, her throat ached and she had lied to Harry. Again. Sometimes she felt like that was all she ever did when they talked. She was trying so desperately to cover up everything, that she couldn't talk to him without feeling defensive and guilty.
Trying to push her thoughts aside, Hermione raised her wand to her wrist performing another glamour charm, redoing the other wrist and her throat as well. She didn't need them wearing off in the middle of potions.
She glanced up at the large pile of books in front of her; most of them were sorted to the left, all useless to her. There were only three books left in the unread pile. She pulled them across the table, closer to her, deciding just to leave the rest of them where they were. Madame Pince would deal with them eventually. Hermione grabbed her bag off the floor, shoving the books inside. She saw something move inside the bag and she glanced down to see that the vial of pepper-up potion she had nabbed from Madame Pomfrey had been pushed up to the top. She quickly lifted it from the bag, pulling out the cork. If she didn't want to fall asleep again she would need something to help keep her awake.
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"Golpalott's Third Law!" Professor Snape's voice rang out loudly in the quiet classroom. "Can anyone tell me what it is, or has once again as expected, no one bothered to do the assigned reading?"
Hermione's hand rose in the air, alone. Harry watched as Professor Snape scanned the classroom, sneering at the students who obviously had no idea what he was talking about, before he stopped, his gaze settling next to him on Hermione.
"Miss Granger, please enlighten us." He said. There was something unfamiliar in his tone to Harry; it wasn't nice, but he spoke to Hermione as he normally did his Slytherins and it left Harry with an unpleasant feeling in his stomach. It felt as though he didn't know something that he should, something Snape was aware of but not him.
"Golpalott's Third Law states that the antidote for a blended poison will be equal to more than the sum of the antidotes for each of the separate components." Hermione said quickly.
"Correct." Professor Snape said, tilting his head forward in acknowledgement. "Five points to Gryffindor."
Harry had not been aware that it was possible for the classroom to get quieter, but the silence seemed to echo off of the walls as realization of what Professor Snape had just done sunk in. Professor Snape did not give house points to non-Slytherins. He especially did not give house points to Gryffindors.
Professor Snape continued lecturing, but no one was focused on him. Instead every eye in the room was turned on Hermione, as though they were trying to figure out what she could have possibly done to deserve house points from Professor Snape of all people. Hermione fought the urge to sink lower in her seat. She didn't know why Professor Snape had chosen now to award her points when he had never, in six years, done it before and she wished that the other students would stop looking at her as though they expected her to give them an answer. She glanced next to her, Ron was looking at her in astonishment but quickly looked away when he realized that she had noticed and pretended to take notes on Professor Snape's lecture. Harry surprised her, he wasn't watching her like the rest of the class; instead he was glaring at Professor Snape as though he had taken points instead of rewarding them.
Hermione quickly looked away from Harry, trying not to read too much into his look, turning back to listen to Professor Snape. As she did, she noticed Malfoy twisted in his seat staring straight at her. His resemblance to his father was more prominent than ever. He had his father's eyes, gray eyes that mocked you, stripped you of your confidence as he stared you down and Hermione couldn't help but shiver at the sight of them. His eyes were filled with resentment and anger like she had never seen from him before, even directed towards Harry and that scared her far more then she would have ever thought it would. Just months ago he was merely Malfoy, a stuck up, nasty but relatively harmless Slytherin, now he was Lucius Malfoy's son, and that made him anything but harmless.
Hermione quickly tore her eyes from Malfoy, scooting down the bench so she was closer to Harry. She forced herself to listen to Professor Snape, knowing that Golpalott's Third Law was important, but every time she looked up she couldn't help but notice Malfoy glaring at her from across the room.
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As Hermione sat at dinner she could still feel eyes on her. Some curious, some in anger, some insulting; she made sure not to look anywhere near the Slytherin table, she didn't want to see his eyes again, not when they resembled his father's so intensely. As the school day had continued after potions most the looks from the other sixth years had died down, but now that the rest of the school had found out, even more people were staring at her.
It was an uncomfortable reminder of the rumors involving her and George. When she had first noticed everyone staring she had thought about writing to him, telling him what was happening and how it made her wish that he was still there to help her like he had done last time, but then she remembered that she couldn't write him. She remembered that he hated her, that she had made sure that he did in the end. And she wanted to feel some sort of twisted happiness in that. She wanted to take comfort in the fact that he was safer hating her, safer far away from her, but right no she couldn't; not on top of everything else.
"Hermione are you okay?" Ginny asked her from across the table. "You've barely eaten anything."
"I'm fine." Hermione said shaking her head, "I'm just not very hungry."
"You don't seem fine." Harry said from next to her.
"I…I'm just really tired of being stared at." Hermione told them, "I should be used to it by now, but I'm not."
Harry nodded his head in understanding; he knew what it was like to be the center of attention when you wanted nothing more than to fade into the background. He wished there was something he could do to help his friend, but there wasn't. Hogwarts student population wasn't well known for letting things go quickly.
"I don't even understand what the big deal is," Hermione said slapping her fork down on the table. "Professor Snape awarded me points for correctly answering a question; he didn't suddenly profess me his favorite student."
"The big deal is that it's Snape." Ron said with a sneer, "Snape just doesn't do things like that; he favors Slytherins and no one else. That's how it was when all my brothers went here, that's how it is now."
"You have to admit, it is a bit strange." Ginny said tentatively.
"Professors are supposed to award points to the students, that's the entire point of the point system," Hermione said getting fed up with her friends. They were supposed to be on her side, they were supposed to tell her that it wasn't a big deal and there wasn't anything strange about it. Why couldn't they just do that?
"People are just making a big deal out of nothing and I wish they would stop staring!" Hermione said loudly, spotting a group of fourth years looking up the table at them. She had enough eyes on her already; she didn't need the entire school watching her to see if anything else would happen.
"It should die down soon, everyone's just curious." Ginny told her with a large smile. It looked forced and untrue and Hermione couldn't blame her. She knew Ginny was just as curious as the rest of the school about what would make Professor Snape give her points but was holding back for the sake of her friend. Hermione understood; the truth was she wanted to know too. She was all too aware of the fact that she never remembered hearing of Professor Snape ever awarding points to a Gryffindor, had barely even heard of him awarding points to Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff. Ron was right, that was just the way it was.
A part of Hermione wondered if it was because of the last conversation she had with Professor Snape, was this his way of apologizing for not being able to help her, for not being able to stop her dreams? Was there something more to it then she realized? She wasn't sure she wanted to know if there was.
Hermione shoved her plate away and placed her head in her hand. She was so tired and the tension the situation was causing wasn't doing anything to help her. She wanted to go upstairs and go asleep. She wanted to sleep so badly.
"Hermione are you sure you're okay?" Harry asked.
"Yeah, I'm just a bit tired." Hermione told him. Harry was watching her closely again, and it took all her willpower not to fidget under his gaze. His eyes seemed like they were searching her own, as though he was trying to figure out if everything really was okay or if she just wasn't telling them that it wasn't. She felt as though he could see the bruises she was hiding underneath her glamour charms, that he had somehow figured out just how long it had been since she had really slept.
"I'll be fine once I can get away from everyone and get some sleep." Hermione told him, with a smile. He smiled back at her but she could tell his heart wasn't in it. She could tell there was a part of him that didn't believe her.
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"Tonight we are going to be doing something special." Remus told her. Hermione didn't know whether to be excited over the prospect that they might not be dueling during tonight's lessons or worried about what else they could be learning.
"I think that part of the reason that you've been having difficulties mastering dueling is because of your approach." He told her, "You think about what's going to happen too much."
"You can't ask me not think Remus, that's like asking Ron not to eat." Hermione said.
"That's not exactly what I meant."Remus said with a smile. "What I meant is that you need to think less about what you're doing and rely more on your instincts, on means you already have. That is what we will be working on tonight."
"Every magical being can sense magic whether they realize it or not, it's how wizards can see what Muggles can't. A magical sixth sense if you will." Remus explained. "Everyone is capable of it, though it's more difficult for some than others, and honing this skill will allow you to sense a magical presence even when you can't see it. It will allow you to know when someone or something is sneaking up behind you, I'm sure you can understand how important that could be."
"Yeah," Hermione said quietly as she watched him walk around his desk and ruffle through a drawer. He pulled out a piece of red cloth, before picking his wand off the desk and vanishing the desks throughout the room. The classroom suddenly looked much larger without them and it left Hermione feeling rather small in the center of it all.
"It takes time but you can be trained to sense magic. That is what this is for," He said holding up the red cloth. "You're going to wear this and try to find me."
"Try to find you?" Hermione repeated. "Remus…I'm not sure—"
"I know this may seem a bit silly." He told her, "But like I said before this could prove to be very important for you. If you know if you've just breached wards or if there is someone magical in your presence when there should not b
e, then you will be more prepared and ready to defend yourself."
"And the blindfold helps with that?" Hermione asked, still nervous. She understood what he was saying but she wasn't comfortable with the idea of not being about to see what was going on around her. She had always liked to be in control, but recently the need to be in control stopped being a strong desire and became a necessity.
"Yes." He said smiling at her, oblivious of her worries. "Now, turn around. I'm going to put it on you."
Hermione nodded and did as she was told, though she still felt unsure. Remus knew what he was doing, she reminded herself, he was her professor and her friend and he would never do anything that hurt her. This was better than trying to duel in current state anyways. She was too tired to be able to put up much of a fight and Remus would know that something was wrong if she was forced to try. She had been worrying about it all day and there was a sense of relief that she wouldn't have to try. But that sense of relief suddenly disappeared as the blindfold slid over Hermione's eyes. She forced herself to take a deep breath but it didn't seem to help. She didn't like this. She didn't like this at all.
Remus tied the blindfold securely and then she heard him begin to move. When he spoke again, his voice came from in front of her. "Are you alright?" He asked her.
"Y-Yeah." Hermione said, "I'm okay."
"Good." He said. "Now I want you to find me."
"Find you?" Hermione repeated.
"Yes, I will be in part of the classroom. I want you to try to find me, to sense me. It won't be easy, but there is a part of you that knows how to do it, you just need to tap into it." As he spoke his voice became quieter and suddenly started coming from different directions.
"Count to ten Hermione." His voice came again. This time it was to the left of her. "And then find me."
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten.
Silence. All she heard was horrible silence. Hermione didn't know what Remus was talking about. She couldn't sense his presence. She couldn't hear him. She couldn't feel him. She felt alone and that was all she felt.
Hermione took a deep breath, forcing herself to step forward. Remus's voice came from her left the last time he had spoken to her which made her think he would have gone to the right to try to throw her off. She knew he wasn't going to make this easy for her.
Taking another couple of steps forward, Hermione turned to the right. She listened intently, straining to hear something but no sound came. She took another step forward, and then another and then another. She felt ridiculous, ridiculous and anxious.
She took a step further into the room and she felt something, it was the same feeling she got when she knew someone was watching her, she could sense another presence connected with her own. Cocking her head to the side, she listened more intently taking a step farther to the right.
She couldn't hear anything, couldn't see anything, but she could feel something there.
She was going the right way, she could tell. She didn't know what had happened, she didn't know where this feeling was coming from, but somehow she knew that she was going in the right direction. Holding her hand out in front of her, she quickened her pace. He was right there, she could feel something different in the air, she could feel him.
"You're right here." She said extending her hand out a little farther. She touched nothing but air. "Am I right?" She asked using her other hand to pull off the blindfold.
Remus was standing right in front of her, his chest inches away from her still extended hand.
"I found you." Hermione said proud of herself. She didn't think she was going to be able to do this.
"Yes, you found me." He sounded as though he hadn't expected her to do it and his tone left Hermione feeling rather confused. She didn't know whether to be happy that she had succeeded in something that was supposed be difficult or worried by the look on his face when she had succeeded. It was more than just surprise, there was an uneasiness to his expression and for a brief moment he looked as though he had never really seen her before.
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Hermione entered the doorway cautiously, looking around in horror at the destruction around her. The Burrow once such a happy, loving place now lay in pieces around her. The walls had crumbled in, no longer able to support themselves, broken furniture and glass was everywhere; it looked as though it had never been a home at all.
"Oh god." She whispered into the air.
"Ron! George! Anyone!" Hermione pushed further into the room, forcing back a sob. This couldn't be happening, not to them. They had never done anything wrong, they didn't deserve this. No one deserved this.
"Ron! George! Mr. Weasley?" She didn't sound like herself, there was a hysterical tone in her voice that she had never heard before.
"Ron!" She called again, "Somebody! Please, somebody answer me!"
She was spinning in circles, trying desperately to see someone, to hear anyone call out to her. No one did. She turned back the way she came from, forcing herself in the opposite direction, to where the kitchen should be. The smoke was heavier there, trapped underneath the barely supported ceiling. It looked unsafe, as though the upstairs could collapse on her at any minute, but Hermione couldn't turn around, she couldn't leave until she knew no one was there.
Hermione carefully stepped over the broken dishes, holding her coat sleeve to her mouth so she could breathe easier. Across the room she could see a collapsed beam, broken pieces of wood, and plaster littering the ground in piles. Between the debris she saw a pale arm lying lifeless on the ground.
"No," She whispered, "No." She rushed forward, tripping over a broken table leg and landing on the floor. She could see all of him now he was facing the opposite direction, his arm twisted in an unnatural way.
"No Ron, no." She said crawling over to him. Part of what used to be the kitchen table was splayed across the lower half of his body and a layer of dust from the plaster had settled on his skin making him appear abnormally pale. She didn't like how it made him look.
"Ron, you're going to be okay." Hermione said, struggling to push the table off of him. "You have to be okay." She whispered.
Tears rained down her face, as Hermione struggled with the table. He couldn't die. She wouldn't let him die. She heard a creak from above her and Hermione froze. She could hear something above her shifting. Plaster rained down on her, sticking to her wet face, causing Hermione to choke on the air around her. She covered her mouth with her sleeve again, looking up towards the ceiling. She could still hear it shifting quietly; it was going to come down, it was going to come down right on top of them. And she couldn't get the table to move, budge even just a little.
She glanced down at Ron's still form, he hadn't moved. His closed eyes mocked her, forcing her to think of what might happen if she couldn't get him out of there, of what might have already happened. But no, no he couldn't be dead. He wasn't dead. She would not let him be dead.
Suddenly Ron's voice from years ago when she panicked under pressure, raised itself to the forefront of her mind. HAVE YOU GONE MAD? ARE YOU A WITCH OR NOT? Feeling suddenly entirely foolish, Hermione felt around her back pocket, her hand clasping around her wand.
"Wingardium Leviosa" She called, carefully directing the table to the other side of the room before carefully lowering it to the ground. As soon as it was safely away, she hurried over to Ron's side, taking his good hand in hers. It was cold.
"Ron?" She asked lifting her hand to his face, "Ron please, answer me." His chest wasn't rising. He wasn't breathing. "Ron, no. No, you have to wake up." She said shaking his shoulder. "Come on Ron, just wake up. We can get out of this; you just have to wake up. Please Ron, please just wake up."
She lowered her head to his chest, clinging to him desperately as she chanted for him to please wake up. He never responded. He just lied there, not answering her calls, not hearing her pleas for him to wake up.
"Ron, you can't do this." Hermione said lifting her head to look up at him, "This isn't what's supposed to happen. You can't leave; you can't leave Harry and me here all alone. We can't lose you too." She lifted her hand to his face, rubbing her thumb over his cheek. She thought that maybe if he could feel her, maybe if he could feel that she was there right beside him, he would remember that he had something to fight for, remember that he was needed there, with her. He still didn't move.
"No." Hermione said shaking her head. "No. Wake up Ron! WAKE UP!" She yelled. She began desperately shaking his shoulders, trying to get him to respond. She didn't care that she was agitating his broken arm, if it hurt him, if it caused him pain that would mean that he was alive and that was all that mattered.
Hermione vaguely heard something move behind her, before a jet of red light sailed past her grazing her shoulder. She quickly ducked, covering Ron's body with her own. She would not let them hurt him, not more than they already had. A second jet of red light came, this time connecting with her back, sending her hurling across the room and crashing into a cabinet.
"Stay away from my son!"
Hermione lifted her hand to the back of her head, when she drew it back there was blood on it. She didn't want to know what that meant. She pushed herself up, leaning against the cabinet as the room began to spin around her. In the doorway was Mr. Weasley, his wand still raised.
"It's me, Mr. Weasley, it's just me." Hermione called weakly. She hurt terribly from hitting the cabinet and black seemed to be creeping in and after what she had just discovered; she was tempted to allow it to take her over, to let it take her far away from there.
"I know who you are Hermione." Mr. Weasley's angry voice came. "Accio wand!"
Hermione's wand, which had been lying beside her, flew into his hand.
"Mr. Weasley, I-I didn't do this." Hermione said looking up at him with wide eyes. "I just got here."
"Molly tried to warn me about you." He said stepping farther into the room, "She told me that you would only bring pain to our family, that you would be the death of us all. I told her that couldn't possibly be true. I told her she was wrong because I trusted you. Well I can see what that got us."
"Mr. Weasley, please we have to—"
"Do not speak to me!" He yelled, his normally kind features were contorted in anger and disgust, all directed at her. She had never seen him like this before. He was always such a calm caring man. Such anger from him left her feeling terrified. "You are nothing more than Mudblood whore who manipulated two of my sons into thinking you were better then you are. You will pay for what you did to them; I will make sure of it. You will never hurt another member of my family again."
He raised his wand, a terrible look in his eyes and Hermione heard someone let out a shrill scream and she realized it was her.
"Hermione! Hermione, calm down." Hands were pushing at her shoulders, trying to hold her down. Hermione struggled against them, trying to get away. "Hermione, calm down, it was just a dream. It was just a dream."
Hermione stopped struggling as she recognized the voice. She slowly lifted her head and beautiful blue eyes met her own. "Ron?" She asked.
"Yeah, Hermione it's just me. It's okay, you just fell asleep." He said patting her shoulder awkwardly.
"Fell asleep…" Hermione murmured shaking her head. She glanced around her to see that she was still in the common room. There were a few people scattered about looking at her and Ron oddly, she wondered if they had heard her scream or if that was just in her dream.
"Hermione are you okay?" Ron asked, sitting down beside her.
"Yeah Ron, I'm fine." Hermione said, but it wasn't true. Her head and side ached and had to fight to keep herself calm, to keep breathing evenly. It had just been a dream, it hadn't happened, but looking up at Ron she could still see him lying broken on the ground, still see the pain in his father's eyes as he screamed at her.
"You don't look it." Ron said. "Hermione, is this about…is this about what happened over the holidays?" He said leaning closer to her.
"No," Hermione said quickly shaking her head, "I just…" She didn't know what to tell him. She was far from fine and nothing he could say or do was going to change that.
"It's okay Hermione; I know it was about that attack. I heard you say my name." He said not looking at her, his face turning red. "I—I've had dreams about it too."
"Do you remember much about it?" Hermione asked.
"No," Ron said shaking his head. "I just…Most of my dreams we're about what could have happened."
"Yeah, I've had dreams like that." Hermione said softly. "I'm just—I'm so sorry, Ron. I'm sorry that you were there and that they did that to you. Your mum and dad must ha—"
"Hermione, it's not your fault." Ron said shaking his head. He quickly glanced around the room to make sure that no one was listening in. There were a couple of first years who were gawking at them, but he didn't think they were close enough to hear anything. "And my mum and dad don't hate you. I know mum went mental over the George thing, but mum's always been mental, that's not your fault. And Ginny suggested once that we swap you for Percy and Dad seemed rather fond of the idea."
Hermione forced herself to laugh and smile up at him. "I'm sure that isn't true." She told him,
"But thank you." She tentatively closed the gap between them, putting her arms around him and letting her chin rest on his shoulder. She felt his arms awkwardly wrap around her as well, patting her on the back. His hand grazed her side and she winced in pain but she didn't pull away, instead she found herself sinking farther into the embrace. She could feel his chest rising and falling and it comforted her more than anything he could ever have said.
"Sorry." She said pulling away from him.
"It's—I mean it, its okay." Ron said. He was avoiding her eyes again.
"I think I'm going to head upstairs and change." Hermione told him. "I'll meet you and Harry down here for dinner. Wait, where is Harry?" Hermione asked glancing around the common room.
"Dumbledore wanted to talk to him." Ron said shrugging his shoulders. "He left a little after you fell asleep. Told me to make sure no one woke you up until dinner so you could get some sleep. He thinks you're not sleeping very well cause he found you asleep in the library."
Hermione just nodded her head, trying to keep her uneasiness from showing on her face.
"When he gets back tell him not to worry so much." Hermione said, standing up. "I'll meet you guys down here for dinner, okay?"
"Yeah, I'll be here." He told her.
Hermione forced another smile at him, before hurrying past him and up the stairs to her dormitory. Parvati and Lavender were in there, giggling on Lavender's bed. Hermione hurried past them, dropping her bag on her bed and pulling out a pair of jeans and a sweater from her trunk. "Hey guys, I'm going to go take a shower before dinner." Hermione said turning to her roommates, "You don't mind, do you?"
Lavender looked like she wanted to tell her no, she always liked to spend twenty minutes in there before dinner checking her make-up and Hermione being in there would prevent that, but Parvati interrupted her nodding her head in consent. "Yeah Hermione, no problem." She told her.
Hermione smiled in thanks before hurrying into the bathroom. Parvati had been nicer to her in the last few months than ever before and Hermione couldn't help but think that it was because of the nightmares. There had been several nights that it had been Parvati who had woken Hermione up, pulling her out of a terrible nightmare. Hermione had never been so happy to see her before. She had even asked her about them once, and she had looked like she was honestly concerned and not just looking for gossip.
Hermione quickly turned on the shower before hurrying over the mirror to get a better look at herself. She couldn't see anything on her face, no bruises, no cuts, nothing to show that she had been thrown across the room and into a cabinet. And there shouldn't be anything there. She hadn't really been thrown across the room, she had dreamed about it and that shouldn't leave any marks behind. But then why did her head ache, why did her side throb?
Slowly Hermione began to unbutton her shirt before gently shrugging it off her shoulders. It hurt horribly and she had to bite her lip to keep crying out in pain. Her entire left side was already bruising terribly; down her side, the upper part of her arm. She couldn't help but wince at the sight of it.
Hermione laid her shirt down on the counter before stepping out of her plaid skirt. She had bruising up the side of her upper leg as well. She let out a bitter laugh at the sight of it; this wasn't supposed to be happening. Dreams weren't supposed to hurt you. They were just images and thoughts; they could haunt you, they could terrify you, but they couldn't physically harm you. It wasn't possible, or at least it wasn't supposed to be.
She didn't know what to do, there was a part of her crying out, begging her to tell someone, to get some help. But there was another voice that stopped her, that told her no, she shouldn't tell anyone. Professor Snape had already told her that there wasn't a way to stop these dreams. If Dumbledore didn't have the answers now, he wasn't suddenly going to gain them when she told him the extent of the damage the dreams was creating. They already knew that there were physical ramifications, telling them wouldn't change anything it would just lead to more nights being watched in the hospital wing, more pity filled looks from everyone. It would give Harry another thing to blame himself for. No, it was better this way. She believed that.
Hermione quickly stepped out of the rest of her clothes and hurried into the shower. She stepped under the water hoping to feel some release; she wanted to forget her dreams, she wanted her dreams to wash down the drain along with the water. She could still feel Ron's lifeless body beneath her own, she could still see his pale face, his mocking closed eyes. She could still hear the anger in Mr. Weasley voice, still see the pain written all over the face, she could still hear him call her a Mudblood whore. And it hurt, it all hurt as though it had really happened, as though her best friend's father really had attacked her, as though she had really discovered her best friend dead. And she didn't know what to do to make that pain go away. She knew that Ron was fine; she knew that Mr. Weasley would never attack her, but that didn't take the images away, it didn't take the pain away. It didn't make this feeling of total helplessness away, and that was what she wanted. That was what so desperately wanted.
Hermione lifted her hand to the back of her head, running her hand over where she had hit it in the dream. Her hand grazed over the knot the cabinet had made and Hermione quickly pulled her hand away, her eyes welling up with tears. She was going to have to do something about it, though she didn't know what. She couldn't walk around with a head injury, but she didn't know how to heal it and she was afraid of what might happen if she tried.
Raising her hand to wipe away the tears and water stinging her eyes, Hermione stopped mid-motion. There was blood on her hand. Looking down at her feet, she could see a stream of bright red blood circling the drain.
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Harry climbed through the portrait hole, quickly ducking out of the way as Parvati hurried through it not even noticing him. Ron was where he had left him by the fire, still doing his homework, but Hermione was gone no longer asleep on the couch. He had hoped that she would sleep longer, she obviously needed it. When he had found her asleep in the library he hadn't thought much about it, he had fallen asleep in there before himself, but the more he thought about it the more unlike Hermione it sounded. Hermione wouldn't fall asleep in the library; she had yelled at people in the past for sleeping on books. No, it wasn't like her at all.
"Hey, Ron" He said sitting down across from him, "Where's Hermione?"
"She umm….she went up to her dorm a little while ago," Ron said not looking up from his homework, "She said—She said she'd meet us down here for dinner."
"Okay."
"Harry," Ron said, sitting his homework to the side and finally looking directly at him, "I think that you might be right about Hermione. Well, I think you were right when you said that something was up and that she was keeping it from us."
"What do you mean?" Harry asked.
"Well don't say anything to her, I don't want her to know I told you, but after you left Hermione started talking in her sleep. It was real quiet, I was the only one that heard her, but she kept saying my name and asking for someone to help her. She started really panicking and went up to wake her up and she started to scream and tried to fight me off."
"Yeah, she did that when I woke her up at the Burrow." Harry told him.
"She was dreaming about the….what happened at Christmas again." Ron said, "I think that's what she's been hiding. I don't think she's as over it as she wants us to think she is."
It made sense to Harry, though he did think that there was more to it. Hermione had been having a really hard time and then on Christmas she came down and it was as though everything was different. She wasn't the same, no matter how much he wished she was, but she had seemed happier, she had seemed like she was getting better. But was she? Maybe she wasn't. Maybe she had just been keeping it to herself.
Harry heard the portrait hole slam open behind him and saw Ron look up surprised. Harry turned around and watched as Madame Pomfrey hurried into the common room, followed by Parvati. They were heading up towards the girl dormitory quickly. Panic began to overtake Harry as he of all the possible ways Hermione could be hurt because somehow he knew that she was the reason Madame Pomfrey was there.
"Parvati wait!" Harry said, quickly standing up and hurrying over to the girl. "What's going on?"
"Hermione slipped in the shower." She told him quietly, "She hit her head."
"Is she alright?" Harry asked.
"I think so" Parvati told him, "She was bleeding but she was able to get up and out of the bathroom without any help. Lavender and me didn't even hear her fall. She just came out holding a rag to her head, asking us to go get Madame Pomfrey."
"I'm sure Madame Pomfrey will fix her right up, for sure." Ron told them. But it didn't seem very comforting coming from the obviously troubled boy.
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"Alright dear, let's see what we've got." Madame Pomfrey said taking the washcloth out of Hermione's hand. Hermione didn't know what to think of the silence that followed. Was it worse than what she had expected? Was it better? Could she somehow tell that she hadn't really gotten it slipping in the shower?
"Well it's not too bad." Madame Pomfrey said, "But it is slightly worse than I had expected. Can you tell me what happened?"
"I'm not really sure," Hermione said quietly, looking at her lap. "I had just stepped into the shower and the next thing I knew I was on the floor. My head hurt terribly, but I thought I was fine, that it was just a bump on the head. I got up and started my shower that was when I noticed the blood. It was bleeding a lot Madame Pomfrey, what does that mean?"
"Just that head wounds bleed a lot, dear. Don't worry Miss Granger, everything will be just fine." Madame Pomfrey told her, "I'm going to heal you now, but first I need to clean the wound. I'm afraid that will sting a bit."
"Okay." Hermione said quietly.
Madame Pomfrey murmured a spell behind her and suddenly her head began to burn and Hermione had to bite her lip from screaming out in pain. Slowly the burning subsided and was replaced by a tingly feeling.
"I am sorry, dear." Madame Pomfrey said, "All of the advances magic has and there's still no painless way to do that."
"It's alright, I understand." Hermione told her quietly.
"Now, the wound itself is healed but it will continue to hurt the rest of the day and probably tomorrow as well. I'll give you a pain potion for that. But you will need to spend the rest of the night in the hospital wing tonight for observation, as well Miss Granger." She told her.
"Madame Pomfrey I'd really rather not." Hermione said, quickly turning to look at the older woman.
"I'm well aware that no one likes to spend the night in the hospital wing, but I must insist. Head injuries often have repercussions that aren't seen right away. I would prefer for Miss Patil not to have to come find me in a panic again." Madame Pomfrey said looking at her sympathetically.
Hermione nodded her head, knowing that she wouldn't be able to talk her way out of this one. It was easy to convince everyone that she was fine when they didn't know about the bruise or the pain, but once they knew about them, there was nothing she could do.
"Now, why don't you grab something to sleep in and a follow me downstairs, it's about dinner time I think." Madame Pomfrey told her with a large smile. It made Hermione feel guilty about lying to her. When she smiled like that, it reminded her of her mother. She, like all other children, had lied to her parents many times before but for Hermione it always came with an extreme amount of guilt, as though she had done something unforgivable. She felt the same way when she lied to Harry and Ron.
"Don't look so glum dear," Madame Pomfrey said, "You're not the first student to slip in the showers at Hogwarts. After tonight everything should go back to normal and it will be as though nothing happened at all."
Hermione desperately wished that was true. Unfortunately there was still a large bruise on her side to remind her that it wasn't.
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"Harry, stop staring at me," Hermione hissed under her breath. "Pay attention or Professor Snape is going to take points."
Harry had the grace to blush and look away as he started taking notes on what Professor Snape was saying. He had been staring at her since she had come down for breakfast that morning; she had told him and Ron both not to worry about her so much and that far worse things had happened to her then bumping her head in the shower. That had only seemed to make it worse. Harry had started staring at her again when he thought she wasn't paying attention; he looked as though he was trying to figure something out. Hermione hoped desperately that he hadn't succeeded. She knew that he could somehow sense that there was something wrong and there was a part of her rejoicing in the fact that her best friend could tell when she wasn't herself, when there was something terribly wrong, but she also knew how bad it could be.
Everything was just getting so confusing and out of control and Hermione wanted desperately to find some sort of solace in it; she wanted a few moments where everything seemed as though it was as it should be. But she couldn't even sleep without dreaming of something terrible. She couldn't sit with her friends without thinking about all the things she was keeping from them. She couldn't see a wand without seeing Lucius Malfoy's face. She couldn't look at Harry without hearing Dumbledore words and fearing what he would do if he found out everything. Last night, as she lay in the hospital bed she found herself crying and when she tried to pinpoint the reason, she just kept coming up with more things to cry about it. She just wanted it all to be over. She wanted to stop remembering. She wanted to stop thinking, stop feeling like this.
Hermione felt a tear trickle down her cheek and she quickly wiped it away, glancing beside her to make sure that Harry or Ron hadn't noticed. It seemed like Harry had finally stopped staring after he had been caught. A part of her was relieved; the other part wished he had kept staring.
"The essay is due next Thursday." Professor Snape said from the front of the room, "Class dismissed."
Hermione looked down at her notes and realized that she hadn't written down anything that Professor Snape had said since she had caught Harry staring at her. She didn't even know what the essay they had been assigned was about.
"You coming, Hermione?" Harry asked from beside her.
She looked over and saw that he and Ron had both already packed up their things and were ready to leave.
"I uhh….actually I need to ask Professor Snape a question about the assignment." Hermione told him, "I'll catch up with you guys later."
"We'll wait for you in the hallway." Harry told her. Ron nodded his head in agreement behind him.
"Don't be silly Harry, you guys have Quidditch Practice." Hermione told him. "Go ahead without me."
"Are you sure?" Harry asked. He didn't look like he wanted to leave her there alone and Hermione wondered if it was concern about leaving her alone or leaving her alone with Professor Snape.
"I'm fine, Harry," Hermione told him, "As I've told you multiple times today. Now go, before Professor Snape takes points for you two not leaving when he told you too."
Once Hermione was sure her friends were gone, and that there was no one else waiting to overhear her interaction with Professor Snape, Hermione quickly stood and made her way to the front of the class. Professor Snape had his back to her, as he used his wand to write on the blackboard for his next class.
"Professor?" Hermione said.
Professor Snape turned around eyeing her with a look of surprise. "Yes, Miss Granger?"
"I…I was wondering if you or Professor Dumbledore had made any progress on figuring out my dreams." Hermione said quickly. "I know you would have told him if you had discovered anything concrete but I…I'd be willing to try anything, sir, even if you're not sure it will work."
"I can't help but wonder why you chose to bring this up now, Miss Granger." Professor Snape said.
When she looked up at him she could see no contempt in his eyes, no anger or resentment for asking such a question, and Hermione found herself wanting to tell him everything. All the things that she had been holding back rushed forward begging for her to tell him, all the images, all the pain both physical and mental the dreams had caused, the real reason she had been in the hospital wing the night before. She wanted to tell him how fruitless her own search for answers had been and how it left her worrying that there was no answer to this problem. She wanted him to be Professor Snape and call her childish for worrying so much. She wanted him to be Professor Snape and somehow make it all seem like it was nothing compared to what it could be. She wanted him to be Professor Snape and fix it, for him to find a way to make it all better.
But when she opened her mouth she found herself unable to speak the words. Saying it out loud made it real. Once she said it out loud she couldn't take it back, she could no longer pretend it wasn't happening. As horrible as she felt, as much as she wanted it to all be over, she couldn't do it. She wasn't ready for that, not yet. She felt no solace in her situation, but she did feel some sense of normality and that was the only thing she had left to cling to. When she said it out loud, when it was suddenly real, then she wouldn't even have that.
"I just…they've always been bad, horrible even, and I always hated them but I accepted them because I knew I couldn't stop them…" Hermione begged herself not to cry. She didn't want to show him how weak she was, she didn't want him to see how much they had broken her. "But lately, they've been…there just so…"
"They've gotten worse." Professor Snape finished for her.
"Yes." Hermione said quietly. Yes, they had. So much worse then she had ever expected.
"I will speak with the Headmaster, Miss Granger and make sure he is aware of your openness." Professor Snape told her. "And if we discover anything, you will be the first to know."
"Thank you, sir."
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Hermione looked up from her essay for Potions as she heard the portrait hole open and Gryffindor Quidditch players began climbing in. They were soaked from the rain and they left a muddy trail as they made their way up the stairs to their dormitories. None of them seemed very happy. Harry and Ron were the last to climb through the portrait hole.
"Hey guys, how was practice?" Hermione asked.
"Horrible." Ron said, before walking past her towards the stairs.
"What happened?" Hermione asked taking out her wand. She quickly cast a cleansing and drying charm on her friend. She needed to talk to him before dinner and she didn't want him hurrying off to take a shower.
"Thanks." Harry said taking the seat next to her. "Practice was going well until Malfoy and the rest of the Slytherin team showed up and started making comments. We chased them off eventually, but not before they made some comments that got to Ron. After that it started to rain and practice just got worse and worse."
"I'm sorry, Harry." Hermione told him.
"It's okay, it's not like it's your fault, Hermione." Harry said, "I'm happy to blame Malfoy."
"You always are." Hermione said forcing a small smile at her friend. He smiled briefly at her before leaning back, resting his head on the back of the couch, and closing his eyes. He looked tired and Hermione felt guilty asking him now, but she really wanted to do this tonight. She needed to do this tonight.
"Harry? Can I ask you a favor?" Hermione asked.
"Sure." Harry said. His eyes were still closed and Hermione wondered if he would just tell her yes to get her to be quiet so he could sleep. She wouldn't mind as long as he said yes.
"Can I borrow your Invisibility cloak tonight?" She asked quietly, so no one would hear.
He's eyes snapped open at her question and he looked over at her confused. "Why do you want to borrow that?"
"I want to look something up in the Restricted Section," Hermione told him. "But it's not like I can just wander in there whenever I want. I have my teacher aid duties with Hagrid tonight and I thought that afterwards I could just slip into the library. I already know the book I want, I just have to get to it. Please Harry, it's just for tonight."
"Well, I guess it's alright." Harry said. He was still looking at her oddly. "I'll bring it down before dinner." He told her standing up.
"Thanks, Harry." Hermione told him with a large smile. He smiled back before hurrying upstairs and out of her view. She let out a sigh of relief when she was sure that he was gone. She had been worried he would ask her a lot of questions about what she needed it for and why when she was usually so against using it, was she willing to do it now all by herself. She wasn't quite sure what she would have told him if he had asked.
When she had left the potions classroom earlier that day, she had felt hopeful that maybe Professor Dumbledore would have some sort of answer for her and she had clung to that hope for as long as she could. But alone in the common-room she realized that there was no one watching her there and the tiredness had began to creep in and she felt herself begin to drift, the lure of sleep almost too strong for her to fight. Hermione found herself unable to wait for Dumbledore to find something; she needed to do something then. So she had searched the last two books she had from the library, reading them from top to bottom, and had found nothing. It was as unhelpful to her as all the others and it had left her feeling even more powerless then before. She couldn't face another dream like the last one she had had. She couldn't endure the pain, she couldn't see another person she loved die, it hurt too much.
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It been much easier to sneak into the library then she had thought it would be, Madam Pince hadn't even glanced in her direction as she had walked past her. Once she entered the Restricted Section she had kept the cloak tight around her as she skimmed the titles, already knowing the exact title she was looking for. In one of the first books that Hermione had read, she had found a reference to a book called Breaking the Laws of the Unknown. It had an entire section dedicated to dream manipulation and Hermione prayed that it would have something in it that could help her. She had been looking for it for weeks and had finally discovered that it was in the Restricted Section earlier that day.
Hermione felt rather odd being under the invisibility cloak without Harry or Ron. Usually they went on these adventures together and she had felt a pang of regret at not being able to include them in this one. She couldn't help but wish that one of them was there with her now; she thought their presence might calm her, might make her feel better about the situation. Between the two of them, she always felt safe. She didn't feel safe now.
She had found the book relatively quickly and Hermione had thought that it must be some sort of a sign, proof that this was going to work out, that things were going to get better. But now as she sat under the invisibility cloak, her wand as her only source of light, she felt foolish for jumping to such conclusions. Life had taught her that things could always get worse.
The book described a type of dream blending; it involved projecting images into another's mind and blending them with the victim's own dreams. They could not alter them completely, the victim's consciousness still had some control but the dream could be shaped around that and manipulated into being whatever it was wanted to be. It was powerful dark magic that formed a link to the victim's mind created by a ritual based around a personal item the victim had willingly given and a channeling device willingly accepted. The channeling device was the most important piece of the ritual, it had to be with the victim whenever they slept, without it nothing could be done and if the victim went without it for too long the connection would be severed completely.
When Hermione had started reading, everything had seemed so promising. As terrible as things the book described were, she had felt oddly light because she recognized the things described, they were things that had happened to her. But now she could only look at the book in dismay, a pain settling in her heart that hadn't been there before. She had been so close. She had thought that she had finally discovered something that could help her, that she had discovered what Dumbledore couldn't. But she had been wrong, she had been so terribly wrong.
While it was more than possible for them to have stolen something from her to use in the ritual, she had never willingly given them anything and certainly hadn't accepted anything from them. And even if that had somehow happened, if they had used the imperious curse, if they had Obliviated her, there was nothing always with her when she dreamed. She had had these nightmares in her own home, at Viktor's, the Burrow, at Hogwarts; nothing was ever exactly the same in all of those places. She had been wrong. There were similarities to what was happening to her, but this book couldn't help her. Nothing could. Thinking about it now, she realized how ridiculous she really had been. The Restricted Section was probably the first place that Dumbledore had looked, he had had this information all the time and he had known that it couldn't help her.
Hermione let out a quiet hysterical laugh before slapping her hand over her mouth to keep from being heard. She continued laughing silently, her shoulders shaking uncontrollably, a feeling of helplessness washing over her. It took her a few minutes to realize she was no longer laughing and was sobbing instead. As horrible as everything had been before, she had her research to keep her going. Every time one book didn't have the answer, she consoled herself by saying that there was more. There were no more books now, there was nowhere else to turn to, there was nothing else to do but wait and see if Dumbledore could come up with an answer. The library had never failed Hermione before and she didn't know what to do now, where to go to for comfort.
All she knew was that the library had never seemed so cold before.
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Harry sat up in bed, holding his wand over the Marauders' Map for light. He had been staring at Hermione's name for the last hour. He had watched as she had left Hagrid's and made her way up to the castle, meeting no one along the way. He had watched as she made her way through the corridors and into the library, not getting stopped by anyone. She was right where she said she was going to be, she was in the Restricted Section probably pouring over books and taking notes as he watched her name. And he knew that he should be comforted by that, he knew that he should have stopped watching her the moment she had gotten to the library, that he shouldn't have been watching her at all; but he knew that something was wrong. He could feel it.
Something was being kept from him, something important. Maybe Ron was right, she wasn't as over the attack as Hermione wanted him to think she was. Maybe that was true, maybe that was what she was hiding from him, maybe that was what the Headmaster wasn't telling him because he knew that neither one was being completely honest with him. Harry had asked Dumbledore about Hermione when he had been called to his office and he had told him not to worry so much; he had told him that his friend was dealing with the attack very well, much better than even he had thought she would. He had told Harry that Hermione was a very strong girl and that he should remember that. It was exactly what he had wanted him to say, what he had wanted to be true, but he knew that it wasn't. Something was wrong.
There was a feeling in the pit of his stomach that made him think that she hadn't just fallen down in the shower, that made him think that her behavior wasn't just because of the attack, that there was something more to this, that he was missing something important. Hermione kept telling him that she was fine, kept saying that he didn't need to worry about her, but he was worrying because he knew she wasn't fine. Even Ron had noticed that she wasn't alright. He didn't want to push for answers, he knew Hermione would never tell him anything if he did, but he wanted the truth. He wanted to help her; he wanted her to let him help her. She had been there for him ever since he had got to Hogwarts; it was his turn to help her. She just needed to let him.
A/N: Here you go guys. It's a way shorter than normal because I was about three fourths of the way done with chapter eleven and it was way too long to just be one chapter, so I split it up. The good news is that you should get the next one much quicker though. Within the week if everything goes to plan. Sorry about all the grammar mistakes, I know I'm horrible with it.
I want to explain part of Hermione's character that I think some people are questioning. Often people get confused by what it means to be a strong person, in the story Hermione's one of those people. She believes that to be strong you need to work through things yourself, that you need to not show weakness or pain in front of the people you care about because it will hurt them. On top of that, she has Dumbledore telling her that Harry needs to see her being a happy healthy person, who's moved on from everything that has happened.
PLEASE REVIEW!! I love to hear what you guys have to say. I'm always open to suggestions, ideas, and nice criticism.