12/06/11: Betaed by the lovely Raven of Red Wings
A/N: Thank you to all of you who reviewed, read, favourited, alerted. I wouldn't have posted this second chapter without you all. Now this is slightly longer than the last one, and I'm still testing this story idea. I'll try to be punctual with the updates. I'm thinking once a week is a good idea, how about you? I've just a lot of work in uni, so I'll try my best to keep that ideal. Any grammatical errors are my fault, I don't have a beta and kind of like keeping it that way. Tell me how you like it, any ideas or concerns you have and I'll get back to you.
Disclaimer: Wish I could own... let's not even continue that sentence.
Chapter Two: The Big City
Hermione:
Being the golden girl of the golden trio and one of the leaders of the "golden age" is hard to live up to. You've no idea how hard, exactly. It's only been a few years since the war has ended, and still, the media is on my every move. It's as if I'm a celebrity or something. If I go to a restaurant with Harry and Ginny, that restaurant is the hot place for the month. If I wear anything remotely nice, every girl is advised to have it. What kind of media is the wizarding world running?
I didn't sign up for this crap. Life is hard enough without all of these goddamn reporters stalking me.
Harry and Ron were immediately picked up by the Auror Department at the Ministry of Magic. That came as a surprise to no one, of course. I, on the other hand was entitled undersecretary to the head of The Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Which, by the way I ecstatically accepted and happen to regret to this day. It turned out that I was only offered the job because the Ministry wanted to show the wizarding public that the overly glorified war heroes were in their basket. Everything they were doing was just great.
Except it wasn't.
For one thing, the Ministry was not taking care of the issues the war left behind. We just didn't have the staff to take care of the issues at hand. The staff that we did have either didn't care or were completely incompetent. I fell into the second category.
You see, I was completely inept at my job. What most people don't understand is that in order to be anywhere near the department of Magical Law Enforcement one must go to a wizarding law school. Not only did I have any idea what I was doing, but no one bothered to replace me with someone who knew what to do. Now imagine the prejudiced idiots still running about and all the muck voldyshorts left behind him. Like mass carnage and ruined international relations, not to mention, all of those who had to be compensated for everything they had lost. A quarter of the wizarding population had no homes to speak of.
I was meant to help enforce the law on these people under a man who was cheating on his wife with his young secretary.
It wasn't just that the job was difficult and I was being stalked day and night. There just wasn't any time to heal. How does one heal when the wizarding world needs you at its beck and call twenty four seven? I started getting nightmares about everything we'd gone through. They became a sort of normalcy after a while. One night I'd see Bellatrix, casting crucio after crucio and on other nights I'd hear Riddle in my head, taunting me, torturing my mind into madness. It never was the same.
Soon I began avoiding myself, reflections and all. The only mirror in my house became a small little vanity tucked away into a drawer. I couldn't face myself; I was more of a coward than Pettigrew. Slowly I started becoming empty. I felt a little bit of my soul wither every day, joking to myself that I was my own personal dementor. To everyone else, I just seemed the overworked, tired Hermione. Same as always, worrying about things I'd get done in fabulous fashion. Truth is, this wasn't Hogwarts anymore, and no one knew who I really was anymore.
Five years at that hell hole and I'd had enough. Yes, I am Hermione Granger, and I don't give up easily, but even I know when a cause is a lost cause. No, I have not given up on S.P.E.W.
So I left it all behind. Harry, Ron, Ginny, the Weasley's. Even my parents, who preferred Australia after everything they had gone through. By my hand no less. I left it all and came here, to New York City.
I hope I don't regret this decision as well.
Draco:
I woke up in the same position I had fallen asleep in. This was a good sign; I don't think anyone appreciates crinkled sheets. They scare me, they do. I can't remember why, but they're as ominous as things go subtly. I found myself wondering about it.
But thinking is a luxury I don't have any more.
I made myself gently get out of bed, so as not to disturb anyone else, even though there's really no one else in this place but me. Never has been as far as I can remember.
It's a curious thing, though, this place. Food magically appears, things get cleaned, laundry done. I don't know how it happens, but I can't make myself abandon it, no matter how hard I try. It won't leave me. It haunts me. I wish I could just disappear. Maybe it wouldn't find me there?
I ready myself for the day. This takes me long. It used to take me longer, for there used to be too many mirrors in this place. It would take me hours, for avoiding these mirrors are important. I cannot see myself without shock. But one day, they all disappeared. I looked and looked but found only one. A small vanity tucked into a dusty drawer right next to my forgotten wand. I know I could not vanished them. I haven't touched a wand in years.
Magic is the bane of my existence. It makes me shake to just think about it. I wish I could forget it all and be born a Muggle, but such things life did not give me. I am a Malfoy.
I...was a Malfoy. Now I am just an outcast. I like it that way. It's safer than being forced into a legacy I never wanted any part of.
Thinking has made me sick and weak. I shake and feel faint when I think too much. The rest of the day, I spent lying in my bed, lightly, so as not to disturb the sheets.
I slept the night away too.
Breathing is difficult. Sometimes I wonder why we even bother to breathe. What am I breathing for? The question remains unanswered, even though sometimes I think about this for days on end. Slowly inhale, slowly exhale. Try not to make a sound. Maybe if I can mask my breathing, I will become invisible. This is why I like the city, I can breathe as loud as I want in the throngs of rushing people, but no one will notice me. Here, I am the essence of invisibility. I don't even need a cloak.
It is safe like this. You can't be hurt if you aren't there, right? This does seem logical. You cannot hurt the unknown. Not intentionally, anyways.
My mother used to tell me I was the most logical Malfoy she had ever seen. But then again, my mother wasn't the brightest herself. She married my father after all. This is a topic I try to avoid at all costs, but now that it's been breached, I must hide myself away from everything.
I move myself to lay under the bed, curling into a ball, hoping to protect myself. Just in time too, for the floodgates of my mind open and I'm bombarded with everything I am. Memories flood me, my person returns to me and I know who I am. I remember.
While I see all of this flash before my mind, I can hear everyone that ever meant something to me yelling in a slowly growing din in the background... It grows and grows until I have to put my hands over my ears to block it out. That never helps.
Stupid, stupid, stupid, STUPID, die, STUPID, broken, BROKEN, BROKEN, BROKEN, STUPID! Worthless, hateful, useless, useless, insane, garbage, empty, dying, faithless, worthless, worthless, stupid, stupid...
Broken
Loveless
Broken
Loveless
BROKEN
LOVELESS
Will it ever stop?
A/N: How did you like Hermione? If anything seems out of place, just tell me!