Godson

A/N: Well, this was a hard chapter to write... I hope that you find it good... Not much left to say. Don't forget to review once you're done... Enjoy the chapter!

Disclaimer: Mmmm... Last I checked, I didn't own them. Bugger.

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Hermione paused and blinked, holding on to the doorway to maintain balance. Harry? Was Harry in her memories? No, he wasn't. What was he doing in here then? Her eyelids dropped. "What are you zoing here?" she slurred, frowning lightly. "You shouldn't be here..." she trailed off; her body felt heavy and she leaned forwards dangerously. Harry frowned and walked closer to her.

"No, you shouldn't be here, Hermione!" He hissed. "I'm taking you back right now," he added. Hermione gazed up at him with that unfocused look in her eyes again.

"You... Can't tell me what to zo or stop zoing," she retorted, swaggering. That said, Hermione removed her hand from the doorframe and waltzed towards Sirius's bed.

"No, Hermione!" Harry ordered. It killed him to see her like this. Why was she so keen on returning to this awful room? Sirius had slept in here! He had lived in here! How could she stand it?! Hermione didn't pay heed to his exclamation and flung herself on Sirius's bed, adopting a foetal position.

"Now, Harry, let me sleep..." She said barely above a whisper. Harry brandished his wand and resolutely walked towards the bed.

"Hermione, don't make me do something I'll regret," he said softly. Yes, if he had to, he'd put her on the locomortis and carry her to her room. Hermione had closed her eyes.

"I'm very zired, Harry..." Her voice was only a whisper now. Harry's frown intensified and it suddenly dawned on him why was Hermione acting the way she was. He stepped closer to her and grabbed her arm, softly but firmly turning her around.

"Hermione, how many pills did you take?" He questioned. Hermione smiled widely, with her eyes still closed.

"I zidin't take pills," she finally replied, trying to return to her old position. Harry kept a firm grip around her arm, refusing to let go until he got the truth out of her.

"Don't lie to me! How many of them did you take?" Harry demanded. Hermione glanced at him for one second before trying to squirm her way out of his grip.

"Leave me alone!" She whimpered in the end, forcefully slapping his hand away from her arm. For someone who was drugged, she had a lot of strength. "I- I took no pills!" She added, looking at him with a horrified face. And then, as if Harry had pressed a button to switch her off, Hermione's face relaxed and her body fell on the mattress.

"Hermione! Are you alright?" Harry immediately asked, leaning over to see her face. Her eyes were open but opaque, and her breathing was slowly slowing down. That calmness was frankly worrying. Hermione closed her eyes, trying to stop the room from spinning around her... She just wanted to forget everything and sleep... Why was Harry making this so hard for her? "Please, love... How many pills did you take?" Harry's gentle voice reached her ears. Hermione closed her eyes tightly; he again reminded her of how Sirius spoke... If she told him the truth, would he leave her alone?

But did Hermione want to be left alone? Did she really want to shut the world out, as she had been doing these past months? Did she want to keep drowning in the pit she had fallen into?

No... A small voice inside her head said. Don't slap that helping hand away... Ask for help; you're killing yourself this way...

But Hermione couldn't. She couldn't let him know. She was strong; she could do this alone. Hermione covered her ears and hoarsely breathed in. You can't deal with this on your own anymore. You know this, Hermione...

"Stop," she croaked. Harry leaned in closer.

"What?" He asked. Hermione's body began trembling uncontrollably as tears found the way into her eyes. Why? Why couldn't she forget? The pills were supposed to help her! What happened to being so detached from the world that nothing could hurt her? Leave me alone, Harry, leave me alone; you cannot help me now... She opened her mouth and a strangled sob came out. The voices in her head wouldn't stop screaming now; she had allowed them to speak, and now she couldn't stop them... "No, Hermione, please don't cry," Harry pleaded, trying to comfort her. This was breaking his heart.

What had happened to the old Hermione? What had happened to the lovely bookworm that scolded him because he played too much Quidditch? What could Harry do to help her? Oh, if he only knew what was wrong with her. What could be so terrible that she didn't want to tell him?

Hermione shook her head and tried to breathe, looking around her for some source of comfort. But the sheets that had before held a sort of consolation were now cold; the peace she had found when she first entered the room was gone now: gone because all pretences had fallen around her...

She wouldn't let that happen. She wouldn't let reality get to what had been the small piece of solace she had been able to find during the past two years. And yet she couldn't stop crying, now that she had fallen face first into her reality and what was left of her world. Hermione was nothing but a desperate girl who had to cling to a ghost to continue living...

If you could call this living.

Hermione sobbed and swiftly moved away from Harry, getting off the bed and falling to the floor. Harry widened his eyes and rushed to her side. "No!" Hermione exclaimed with fear in her eyes, backing away from him. "You ruined everything!" She cried, covering her face and rocking back and forth. Harry frowned and widened his eyes; he felt between very hurt, and very confused.

"What?" He asked, puzzled. Hermione glared at him.

"You- You ruined-" Her breathing was constricted because of the sobs she was trying to fight. In her altered state, she had to narrow her eyes to stop the walls from closing around her and for Harry to not look distorted. The Slytherin part of Harry's brain suddenly discovered that this was a good time to squeeze what was wrong with her.

"What did I ruin, Hermione?" He gently asked, nearing her. Hermione covered her ears again and quickly began shaking her head, as if trying to resist great temptation. He tried to ignore the guilt bubbling in the pit of his stomach; he was doing this for Hermione's own good, but he felt as if he was getting her drunk so he could shag her. "Please, Herm... Tell me... What did I ruin?" He pressed. Hermione's lips were tight and tense; her eyes were firmly closed.

Hermione tried to play deaf to his plea. For some reason she found herself confused. What she was doing there? Why was she crying? Her head was spinning. Was this because of the meds she had taken? She opened her eyes and her dizziness grew stronger... "If- If I had... One more zay..." she managed to say. Harry listened attentively. "If I could turn back- Harry..." she croaked.

"Yes?" But Hermione didn't answer. She seemed to struggle with herself for a few seconds and then threw herself in his arms with such force that he almost fell backwards. Shocked, Harry hugged her back as Hermione sobbed in his chest.

"I'm so sorry, Harry," she told his chest, still with a death like grip on him. "I shouldn't... Have zone what I zid-" Harry could barely understand her; slurring and a runny nose did not mix. What was she talking about? Taking the medicine, returning to Sirius's room, or something else?

"What did you, Herm?" He asked her, patting her back. Hermione was shaking again, and did not speak. Harry sighed and kissed her head; it was enough pressure for one night. "I'll take you back to your room, okay?" He added. This room gave him the creeps.

"Let me ztay," Hermione begged, looking up at him with such sadness that Harry actually considered it.

"No," he said in the end. "It'll do you no good, Hermione. C'mon," he said, helping her stand up. Hermione tried to walk but just as she fell forwards Harry caught her. "I'll carry you..." He trailed off. Hermione didn't complain. As Harry positioned her in his arms, he felt as if he was carrying a corpse.

The thought of it disturbed him deeply. He went out of Sirius's room and closed the door with his foot, shivering.

"Harry, zell the walls to stop moving," Hermione moaned as he started walking. Alarmed, Harry speeded up to his room, which was nearer than hers, and carefully laid her on his bed. Hermione's body moved as if it was made of jelly; her eyes were unfocused. "Ztay with me, Harry," Hermione suddenly said, patting the spot next to her on his bed. "You were his godson..." She trailed off.

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A/N: Ah! His godson? What? How will Harry react? I have no idea. I'll have to start writing the chapter. I do hope that this chapter is worth reading; I got a major block at the middle of it. Now you have to review If I don't update till next week, have a very merry Christmas! Adieu!