Lost and found

A/N: Hi hi hi! As always, thank you for the reviews! They're just awesome! Keep 'em coming D On other subject, brace yourselves for a relatively long chapter! This chapter is crucial, and I wanted to make it really good. I hope you think it is so... That being said... On with the chapter!

Disclaimer: Damn, not yet. I'm doing the best I can.

"I was alone, falling free
Trying my best not to forget
What happened to us, what happened to me
What happened as I let it slip

I was alone, staring over the ledge
Trying my best not to forget
All manner of joy, all manner of glee
And our one heroic pledge
How it mattered to us, how would it mattered to me
And the consequences..."

"Meds"- Placebo.

-+-

An abysmal silence surrounded them; surrounded him. Head cradled in hands, elbows resting on knees, and tightly closed eyes. The unnaturally clean white hallway did not bring comfort; and the atmosphere that hung there was full of worry, deception, and plain shock. Nothing had prepared him for this. Out all the things he, they, had seen, almost nothing compared to this.

Twenty minutes earlier...

That morning claimed, and was full of promises, that spring was near. The sun shone, even though the breeze was freezing, and the birds and bees went on their daily affairs. Grimmauld Place found itself resting in a cozy, peaceful silence; the rooms had an almost ethereal look to them thanks to the early sunlight streaming through the windows. It was one of those days when you wake up and say "nothing can ever go wrong today", just because you caught a glimpse of the clear blue sky.

At eight o'clock, in the kitchen, Harry ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. He had to talk to Hermione and apologize, beg to her that she didn't leave the house, and talk to her about Sirius's room. He finished his cup of tea and stood up, gathering courage. As he walked through the kitchen and climbed the stairs, the silence freaked him out. It wasn't a normal silence. He would gladly lit up one of Fred and George's fireworks just to make it stop.

Hermione's bedroom door was in front of him, and suddenly he felt scared. Scared and unsure... Why? The worst it could happen was that he woke her up... And even though Harry didn't like that idea, something was strangely off. He breathed in deeply and knocked on the door. Nothing. He knocked harder, longer. Again, no answer.

"Hermione? Are you awake?" His voice reverberated in the hallway, almost as an echo, and he frowned, again knocking on the door- he'd kick it down if he had to. "Please let me in?" He tried. He felt as if he was talking to a wall; suddenly the door in front of him had become a powerful and mocking barrier between Hermione and him. Harry grabbed the doorknob and, praying that Hermione wouldn't hex him, carefully turned it. She hadn't locked it. Harry opened the door slowly, carefully... "Herm? Are you awake?" He wanted to know, taking a peek from the crack of the door.

No, she wasn't. Her arm was dangling limply off the mattress, to the floor, and her head was turned to the wall. It was strange that she hadn't heard all the noise he had been making... Even Hermione had to acknowledge it. Harry stepped next to the bed and his brow furrowed when he noticed how pale she looked. Even paler than before, if that was still possible. Her mouth was slightly open. "Hermione?" He asked gently, putting a hand over her shoulder. She didn't even move. Her breathing was calmed and slow... Too slow. It was almost imperceptible... Harry's frown intensified. "Hermione," he repeated, slightly shaking her shoulder. Her body responded as though it was made of jelly... Fear punctuated his chest; or so it felt. "Hermione!" He called, now shaking her shoulder firmly, with widened eyes. Panic started to rise from his throat, clenching it, to his brain. "Answer me!" He ended up exclaiming, shaking her from both shoulders. As he did so, his eyes found her bedside table. And over it lay the open plastic bottle which had been once full of Rivotril and was now... empty. Harry saw this and his eyes nearly popped out if their sockets.

In fact, he was sure that he heard his brain go on lockdown as panic overruled his mind, body, and soul. No, it couldn't be. It just couldn't. This was a very nasty dream, yes, it was.

Harry wanted to scream, cry, run away, save her; he didn't know. "How many pills did you take?!" He questioned Hermione's limp form, still shaking her. "Hermione, answer me! How many did you take?!" He repeated. Harry found himself short of air and slightly dizzy; his hands were trembling.

"Ssss-" Hermione opened her mouth, but not her eyes. "Sss-" Harry stared at her trying to say something; but now it seemed that the air reaching her lungs was not enough. "Ssssix..." she hissed, and her head again fell to the side. Harry, for a couple of seconds, stood transfixed; his mind blank. It was there, just in front of him, and he could not take it in. No coherent thought graced his mind. At last, like a slap in the face, he reacted.

"YOU TOOK SIX!!" He couldn't help but to yell, as her words hit him. With some effort Harry cradled Hermione in his arms and ran out of her bedroom, crouching over, for her body was heavy and lax. He ran down the stairs two at a time, panting and sweating. As Harry stood in the living room, Hermione's body swaying in his arms, he once again found himself petrified. The thoughts racing through his head were too many, and travelled too fast for him to grab one.

Harry felt something wet fall on his sleeve and he blinked, gazing down at Hermione. Droplets of blood were starting to fall from her nostrils... Again he started trembling as his mouth closed and opened with no sounds. Harry closed his eyes tightly and felt the now usual feeling of being sucked through a very narrow rubber tube...

St. Mungos was fairly empty that Sunday morning. Harry ran towards the reception desk, feeling as if someone had put him on auto pilot.

"Good mor-" The reception witch cut herself off at the sight of Harry, panting and frantic, and Hermione's body and bleeding nostrils. "Good gracious!" She exclaimed, standing up. "What has happened?" She added. Harry swallowed.

"Overdose," he croaked. "Overdose." he repeated, his eyes bulging. The mediwitch widened her eyes.

"Merlin... Williams!" she barked, turning to a wizard who was about to enter a ward. "This girl has had an overdose!" The wizard also widened his eyes and hurried to Harry's side, taking Hermione's pulse and nodding. He waved his wand and a stretcher popped out of thin air, floating in front of Harry.

"Sir, please place her on the stretcher," The wizard asked, gazing at him. Harry blinked, looked at the stretcher, at Hermione, and then nodded, carefully laying her on it. A trail of small red droplets gleamed on the floor. Harry's mind was a blur of thoughts, none of which seemed clear, as he stared at Hermione floating on the stretcher.

What had just happened?

"Sir, please calm down," The receptionist voice reached his ears. Harry turned to look at the witch and gulped.

"What?" he rasped. The witch sighed.

"You are hyperventilating," she said. "Try to calm down. You'll have to answer some questions," she added. Harry followed the witch unsteadily, trying to regain breath. "Name?"

"Harry Potter. The girl's name is Hermione Granger."

"What did she have an overdose of?"

"Rivotril, I believe."

"Muggle medicine? Well, she'll be on the third floor," the mediwitch told him, scanning a long list of patients. Harry supposed that it was the same as Hogwarts; where a patient was taken, her or his name would be automatically listed? "Augustus Pye will take care of her." Harry nodded and looked away, swallowing again. His mouth felt made of sand. "If you wish to contact anybody, you can use the chimneys over there," the witch told him, signalling to a line of them next to the main door. Harry walked towards them, having the weird impression that he was watching himself grab the floo powder instead of actually being doing it. He kneeled in front of the green flames and waited; soon enough he could see Ron's sleepy face appear.

"What is it, Harry? It's too early," his friend said, yawning. Luna came and sat down next to Ron, gazing at Harry with a dreamy look.

"I'm in St. Mungos," Harry managed to say. Ron's eyes widened.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

"Hermione. Overdose." Harry spluttered. Ron started coughing and Luna gasped, taking a hand to her mouth.

"W- What?" Ron asked, still coughing over the flames.

"Hermione had an overdose?" Luna asked quietly. Harry agreed with his head and found himself quite incapable of speaking properly; a knot lodged in his throat.

"I can't believe it either." He replied. Ron still looked unbelieving.

"Blimey, Harry... I'll... I'll tell everyone." And Ron and Luna were gone. Harry sat there, staring at the now empty fireplace for a couple of minutes. Why? Why had Hermione tried to kill herself?

And there they found themselves fifteen minutes later; sitting outside Hermione's ward. Ron and Luna were sitting next to Harry in complete silence; Ginny was looking green and Draco was trying to comfort her, though looking unnaturally pale. Lupin and Tonks were standing next to Ginny and Draco in equal shock. Harry felt sick; guilt cursing through his body in relentless, unforgiving waves.

"I'll be gone by morning."

How could he have known? How could Harry have known how literal her words had been? If only he had insisted a little bit more, if only he had been more careful, more aware- How could they have missed that Hermione was feeling suicidal...? But why? Why was she feeling like that? What made her feel that she had no way out?

"Harry, you're shaking," a voice floated next to him. Harry looked up and saw Luna there, staring at him sadly. Her hand was over the small maroon spot on his sleeve.

"Her nose started bleeding," Harry told her, nodding in direction of the spot. "It was my fault," he said, staring at the door opposite to them. Hermione was in there, whether alive or not, he did not know... "She told me something. She told she'd be gone by morning..." He trailed off, hiding his head beneath his hands again.

"You couldn't know, Harry," Luna told him slowly. "Nobody could have. Hermione wanting to commit suicide is not..." Her voice died down and didn't continue. He had confronted Voldemort four times –only the fourth being successful in killing him-; he had seen Cedric, Dumbledore and Sirius die... Goodness, in fifth year Harry had thought Hermione had died.

But it still didn't compare to this. Seeing her there, limp and still. Her hair messy, the rings under he eyes, her thinness. No, Hermione Granger as he knew her had died a long time ago... And the question remained as to why. Two sharp intakes of air made him snap back into reality, and he looked up from his hands. The door had been opened and Augustus Pye stood under the doorframe, looking serious.

"Harry Potter?" He asked, and Harry stood up like struck by lightening. Augustus beckoned Harry to follow him and Harry did as told, entering the grim looking ward in which Hermione was in. The mediwizard closed the door behind him, and Harry anxiously waited for him to start talking. "We had to pump her stomach," Augustus started. "We think she drank the pills somewhere between five and six a.m.," he continued. Harry tried to speak, but he seemed to have left his voice outside the ward. "We also had to give her some potions to calm her blood pressure and heart condition," he explained.

"And- And..." Harry tried to say, his voice strangely high pitched. Augustus smiled slightly.

"She'll be alright."

The three most wonderful words in the entire universe, Harry's brain decided. His throat unclenched and his lungs seemed to swell three times their size as he breathed in deeply, covering his face with his hands. It was no wonder that his eyes watered at the news; the last time he had felt so powerfully relieved had been when he defeated Voldemort. "Oh Merlin..." he muttered; his stomach churned and turned with happiness, replacing the feeling of nausea. "Excuse me," Harry said, turning over to the door. He breathed in deeply and opened it.

Ginny, Luna and Tonks gasped again; Draco and Ron swallowed and Lupin frowned in concern; all of them waiting with bathed breath to know what had happened to Hermione. Harry gazed at them all in silence.

"She'll be okay," he finally said, his face dissolving into a smile. Ginny broke down and started crying, Draco grinned and hugged her; Ron laughed loudly and embraced Luna; Tonks and Lupin grinned widely and went over to Harry, hugging him and shaking hands. Harry felt a hand on his shoulder and he turned around to see Augustus standing there.

"I'll be right back," Harry told the people around him, following the healer back into the ward.

"I didn't want to tell you this in front of everyone," Augustus started, making Harry raise his eyebrows, and the fear returned at full strength. "It was a wonder how Mrs. Granger managed to survive, Mr. Potter. As I'm sure you must have noticed, she is toeing the line of anorexia. And having an overdose... Well, let me just say that if you had not brought her here, she wouldn't have survived." The healer told him. Harry sighed and pouted.

"What do you suggest we do?" He asked. Augustus shook his head.

"I'd like her to stay here for a couple of days, just in case she attempts to kill herself again, first of all. We'll also make her gain more weight."

"That's settled, then. Can I... Can I talk to her?" Harry wanted to know.

"Certainly... But don't worry if she seems disoriented or anything of the sort. It's the after effect of the overdose and the potions we had to give her," Augustus responded, leading Harry towards the last bed of the ward.

Every inch of her seemed to ache. Her stomach felt awful; even breathing was difficult and painful. Her brain was muddled or lost in some mist; and her throat burned. Where was she? Everything was blurry... Images came scattered... Hermione wasn't in her own bedroom; that was for sure. What had happened...? The last thing she remembered was taking the pills. Was she alive? The pain her body was submitting her to told her so. Why was she alive? Something made the mattress moan and Hermione tried to bring to focus a black blob sitting on the bed.

"Hermione?" A male asked her shakily. Hermione narrowed her eyes; her head hurt.

"Who are you?" She asked in return, holding out her hand. The male grabbed it and squeezed it.

"Harry." Hermione widened her eyes and shook her head, which was not a good idea, but it cleared her view. Slowly, she could distinguish Harry's pale face. He looked sick with worry. "Why did you do it, Hermione?" He added, his voice trembling. Hermione lied back on her pillows and lowered her eyes.

"I wanted to sleep," she muttered.

"Please... Don't lie anymore." Harry whispered.

"I'm not... I'm not lying," Hermione looked up at him and her lower lip started trembling. She knew she had scared and hurt him and all of her friends. She didn't want to be alive to hear them say that she had been selfish and foolish; she didn't want to be alive to see them look at her with disappointment and shock in their eyes.

"Didn't you think about us? Didn't you think about me?" Harry asked without looking at her. "I thought I'd never see you again; I thought I had lost you forever..." his voice started to break down, and he fell silent as he covered his face with his hands. Hermione's eyes filled with tears. She didn't know what to say. When Harry uncovered his face, Hermione was startled to see tears rolling down his cheeks. The last time she had seen Harry cry, Dumbledore had died.

"Harry..."

"Don't- Don't do it again, Hermione. I've already lost my parents, Sirius, and Dumbledore. Don't you leave me, too." He told her, breaking eye contact.

"I'm sorry," Hermione ended up crying. "I'm so sorry, Harry..." Despite the pain, Hermione moved to hug him tightly. Yes, she was sorry. She didn't want to die. Not like that, at least. It felt as if someone had broken a dam in her chest as she sobbed into Harry's shoulder. Hermione didn't regret attempting to commit suicide, because at least, it taught her that desperate measures only brought desperate times.

-+-

Hermione returned to Grimmauld Place two weeks after the overdose; where she discovered that they had organized a welcome back party. The rings and bags under her eyes were gone, and her weight was back to normal. As if Christmas had come again, everyone was there, offering her words of comfort and apologies. In Hermione's honour, Ron even made paces with Draco. A truce, at least. Hermione wanted to confront Remus in the party, but what should she say? What if she said the wrong thing and Lupin took hold of something that he really shouldn't know? She was spared of that torture, thank goodness, but Lupin himself.

"Hermione... I owe you an explanation," he said once everyone was in the living room. Hermione, who was putting the dirty dishes in the sink, nodded.

"Yes, I think you do." She heard Lupin sigh and patiently waited for him to start. She was walking on very thin ice here.

"I heard Nymphadora tell you that when I got it you had already left for Hogwarts, and that was true. Sirius didn't want to send it over to you, because he was afraid that the letter and the gift would be inspected," Lupin began. Hermione agreed with her head again, not looking at him.

"He was right. But why did you keep it for so long?" She finally asked, gazing at him accusingly. "Why not give it to me once Umbridge had been sacked?"

"Because I forgot." Hermione frowned at his answer.

"You forgot?"

"I'm sorry, but yes, I forgot. With Sirius's and Dumbledore's deaths; and the War..." he trailed off. "Please, Hermione, believe me. I'm being honest." Hermione turned to look at the sink, thinking about what he had said. The explication sounded logical, at least. Hermione had to admit (swallowing her pride) that she too would've forgotten about a small Christmas present that failed to be delivered during a whole year. And still, for some reason, it hurt to think that. It was as though because Sirius had died everyone had forgotten about him and his wishes.

"Forgiven," Hermione finally stated, turning to smile at Lupin. "At least I finally got the present." Hermione stared at the bracelet and bit her lower lip, remembering the letter Sirius had wrote her. "I just wish... I just wish I could thank him." Hermione confessed barely above a whisper. Lupin once again sighed.

"I know."

-+-

Harry was out working, and Hermione was, not surprisingly, alone in the house. As she had been allowed to miss work for a few days, due to her stop at the hospital, she had decided to make the best of it. Now, loneliness didn't choke her as it had done before- Hermione's feelings had gathered, mixed, reached boiling point and exploded in a suicidal rage, so now they were, for the moment, tranquil. The Healers had told her that from now on, she had to drink Dreamless potions instead of using medication, and that she'd eventually be able to rest without no other thing but sleepiness.

Harry had unlocked Sirius's bedroom, so now she could go in and out of it as she pleased; her visits to the room didn't have to be desperate and in the middle of the night. Harry still didn't approve of her entering there (he never did), but he at least let her do it without as much as a glare. Currently, Hermione was immersed in a library she had found near what had been Sirius mother's room; she was actually on a ladder so she'd be able to reach the top of the book shelves.

Cobwebs and thick layers of dust covered the books in the last and higher shelve, tapping Hermione's curiosity. As she gazed critically at the different books, her eyes fell on a thick black book, hiding between piles of old parchment. Hermione frowned and retrieved the book from its resting place, coughing slightly when a cloud of dust surrounded her. The cover was completely black; there was nothing written in it. Hermione raised her eyebrows as she turned the book over, and shrugging she opened it.

The pages were yellow and tattered, almost transparent; was it so old? But what surprised her the most was that there was nothing written in it. Perhaps it was a diary that someone had never used? She remembered Riddle's diary and frowned. Hermione's hand smoothed the first page and she softly blew on it, afraid that the parchment would disintegrate. Her eyes widened until it hurt when she saw, right before her very eyes, words starting to form on the page anxiously, as though happy to be read again. As the page wrote itself Hermione narrowed her eyes and squinted at the old calligraphy.

As she read the name of the chapter, her mouth fell open and air was momentarily knocked out of her. "Oh my...!" she breathed as she continued reading, her heart hammering in her chest. She couldn't believe this. It was not possible that the answer to... To...! "Oh, goodness," she lisped. It was all written in here; in this forgotten book in Grimmauld Place...!

-+-

A/N: Ah! This is also one of my favourite chapters... So? How was it? Review and tell me about what you think about it! The more reviews I get, the faster I'll update, so take a minute of your time to leave one! Please? Until next chapter... Adieu!