Trigger warning: Panic attack scene from the sufferer's POV. I'm not usually one to give trigger warnings but writing that scene I felt my own blood pressure skyrocket. Anyone who would rather not go there should stop reading at the *** break. You won't miss anything plot crucial.

Chapter XV: What the Cat Brought In

McGonagall sprinted through the castle on four padded feet, mind ablaze with indignant fury. How dare they! How dare that pomped-up sorry excuse for a witch or wizard attack one of her cubs? She would hunt them for this, and when she found them she would have several words to say to them. If she encountered them in this state of mind, said words may well be unforgivable.

She returned to human form a few strides before the doors, leaving just enough time to adjust her hat; righteous fury was no excuse for poor appearance, after all. The doors blasted open as she struck them with magic pulsing though her palms.

"Where is he?" she roared as she stormed into the infirmary.

"Professor McGonagall, a little decorum," Pomfrey chided softly, from the bedside of a deathly still patient. A tiny patient at that; the Hufflepuff who ran to find her had only told her it was a Gryffindor, not that it was the little first year, Mr Creevey. A more defenceless target McGonagall could not imagine. Cowardly snake!

"Decorum be damned, Poppy; tell me is he alive?" she snapped.

"Yes, professor McGonagall; he is quite well aside from his petrified state," Pomfrey informed her, soothing her nerves by the calm in her voice; Poppy was almost as known for protectiveness as Minerva herself, so if she was calm then the situation must be salvageable at the least.

She thought it strange that the healer was using her professional title when they were alone, which was enough to break her tunnel vision for a glance about the room. What - who - she saw was as surprising as it was not.

"Ms Granger," she said, drawing herself up into a more dignified countenance, "Mr Potter… Why is it, that since your arrival, whenever there is trouble it is the two of you I find in the thick of it?"

"Beats me," Harry mumbled testily.

Hermione had appeared quite calm, but apparently something in that question broke the poor girl.

"Oh, professor!" she cried, rising to her feet, "it's horrible! Colin was just trying to be nice, and now… And now… And they all think that I… I don't know what to do about any of it!"

"Ms Granger, do get a grip of yourself," Minerva counselled. "You will solve none of your problems by crying."

"I'm… I'm not crying," Hermione snipped quite viciously, then clearly remembered who she was talking to. "Sorry, professor."

Minerva didn't bear her any animus for her remark. The bite in the girl's voice spoke to the anger broiling in her own chest; falling to despair without a fight was not the Gryffindor way, and grief had a way of finding targets in those only trying to help. Having the composure to apologise might have earned the girl a few house points, had such trivialities any place in the situation.

"That's quite alright dear. Now, tell me what has happened, and how in Merlin's name you managed to be involved?"

Hermione took a very deep breath, and Minerva braced herself. She had only been subject to two of Hermione's excessively verbose outbursts in the past year, but the signs were something one learned to recognise quickly.

"Well we were in the library studying after the quidditch match because Harry offered to read for me and we thought we shouldn't skip dinner but I didn't want to face everyone so then Colin offered to bring us food from the party but he didn't show up and we were getting worried and we went to find him but there were lots of Hufflepuffs and they'd found Colin petrified," - she drew a massive breath - "and they were accusing me of doing it even though it wasn't me and then Harry stood up to them which was awfully brave of him and he carried Colin here and the Puffs followed saying all sorts of nasty things and then Harry collapsed and I got him to the bed and then you came in."

Hermione was gasping for air at the end as Minerva went back through and put the words she'd actually heard together.

"Are you saying neither you nor the Hufflepuffs saw this happen?"

"Yes, professor, but they still think I did it and that's ridiculous because I was in the library with Harry the whole time!"

"Ms Granger, did anyone see you in the library at the time of the… attack?"

An alibi would be most fortuitous, for both Ms Granger and Harry's sakes. Hopefully then they could put the nasty persistent rumours to bed and focus on the true culprit.

"No, professor," Hermione answered, looking even more downcast. Harry was shaking his head with her. "We were tucked away in a corner, trying to avoid any prying eyes you see, and Madam Pince put a silencio over us so Harry could read aloud without disturbing anyone."

"And did anyone see when you left?"

"I don't think so, ma'am."

Minerva gripped the hem of her robe and worried it in frustration. How could those two be in a public place at the time of the incident and still manage to come away without an alibi? Then she worried about the greater scale of the issue; if the Hufflepuffs, known for their loyalty and measured countenances, were sufficiently worked up to become bullies then the mood amongst the student body must be dire indeed.

It occurred to her that her two wrongly accused cubs were more threatened by their fellows than she had expected; maybe in more danger from them than from the heir him- or her- self. They were safe here with Madam Pomfrey of course, but the woman was busy with her patients, not least of them wee Mr Creevey, though there was likely little to be done there. The matron would soon be turning her guests out, and then… And then they would be in danger.

Harry Potter would be in danger. She had stood by once before and allowed that to happen, and sworn never again. This time, she would see him to a safe place personally. Not out of school, or anything else so drastic at this stage, but back to those who would protect them - protect their own - bravely and ferociously.

"Well, this is all very concerning. I think it best that I escort you back to the Gryffindor common room, to avoid further unpleasantness."

They didn't look very happy, saying nothing, but that was to be expected given what they had been through. Minerva had to admit it was probable a few of her cubs would give them trouble also, but that was nothing she couldn't handle. Until the true heir was apprehended, she would be keeping a closer eye on Potter and Granger, and any troublemakers would be learning how unwise it was to anger a lioness.

Harry clambered through the portrait hole behind McGonagall and turned to help Hermione through, only to find she had less trouble with it than he did. Really, who thought this was better than a door? Turning back to the common room, his stomach lurched into his throat. The room was decked out with bunting, balloons and the mess of a hundred party poppers. A twelve foot long buffet table had appeared from somewhere, to be covered and long since emptied of all manner of snack foods. More students were present than usual - thirty or so, mostly from upper years, stood or lounged about with butterbeers.

Their entrance was met by hard stares, with only a few welcoming faces among them; Neville and the twins that he recognised. McGonagall was busy brushing herself off from her own entrance, which had been surprisingly graceful given her age, so Harry thought she wouldn't have noticed the frosty reception; by the time their head of house addressed the crowd they had schooled their expressions. Harry wasn't sure if her ignorance was better or worse for him.

"Ah, just who I was looking for, Mr Weasley," the professor intoned gravely.

The twins piped up with an "aye, ma'am?" and military salute, even though she was clearly looking at their older brother. They didn't even earn themselves a glance.

"Yes, professor?" Percy answered, looking up from something he was writing. Come to think of it, he hadn't even looked up when they entered. That was Hermione levels of concentrated.

"Mr Potter and Ms Granger have just returned with me from the infirmary, where I am most unhappy to announce young Mr Creevey is residing for the foreseeable," McGonagall informed him, which reignited the hostility of the older students, and instilled visible fear in the younger. Neville gasped.

"Oh my word," Percy muttered, "is he going to be alright?"

"He has been most unfortunately petrified. We can only hope the condition proves reversible."

"And these two..?" Percy asked, waving a hand at Harry and Hermione.

"Were involved only in so much as they carried Mr Creevey to the infirmary upon discovering him. I do hope you are not implying anything, Mr Weasley."

"No, no, not at all," he stuttered, and Harry believed him - Percy had a reputation for staying on the straight and narrow, and none of the corridor bullies had sported fiery red hair. "It's just… The rumours."

"The rumours," McGonagall practically thundered, drawing herself up to her full imposing height, "are precisely that; rumours. They are entirely unsubstantiated, and the headmaster himself has dismissed them as such. I have no doubt all members of our esteemed house are above such spurious slander."

The room shrank under her presence; Harry cringed back even though it was he that she was defending.

"Of course, professor," Percy agreed.

"Good. Now, Potter and Granger have been through a distinctly unpleasant experience. Should they require any assistance for the evening, please see to it promptly. This takes precedence over your other prefectly duties." McGonagall turned to leave, but paused and leaned in to Harry as she went. "Do not hesitate to come to me for anything prefect Weasley cannot help you with, Mr Potter. That goes for both of you, in fact. I would bid you good evening, but that it is not."

With a curt nod she ducked thought the hole and was gone, leaving them to their housemates. Harry suddenly felt very exposed in the tense silence. Then the crowd erupted with a barrage of questions so thick it was impossible to make any of them out.

"Oi!" Percy yelled. "Quit it!" He waited for the din to subside, which it did quickly - the boy had quite the pair of lungs on him. "You all heard McGonagall, and she'd have told us anything we needed to know. I'm sure the situation is under control, so let's give these two some peace, yeah?"

Harry didn't know whether Percy was taking his side, or simply keeping the peace, but he was grateful either way. The party atmosphere looked to have been shattered by the revelation about Colin, and Hermione's presence had a fair number of Gryffindors retreating to their dorms; within minutes the common room had more empty chairs than not, although that still left twenty or so occupied. Harry and Hermione fell into a couch in the corner shielded from the others by Percy's desk, to which he had returned.

Harry was leaning back, rubbing his eyes like he could massage the stress directly from his brain, when someone standing over him blocked out the light. He nervously peeked around his fingers to see Ginny and Neville there.

"Oh. Hey Ginny, Neville."

"Hi Harry," they replied in unison. Neither was cheerful, and Ginny looked downright disturbed, frowning and shifting from foot to foot. Neville was casting furtive glances around the room.

"Enjoying the party?" Harry asked, only out of politeness.

"It was fun, but it's kind of dragging on, you know?" Neville said, shrugging.

"You could just go up… Looks like a lot of people have left already," Harry suggested.

"Oh, well, I was hoping to catch Katie Bell to ask her something, but she's been with her friends the whole time…"

Harry caught the nervousness in his voice and didn't press. He didn't have it in him to deal with anyone else's problems.

"Is Luna not around?" Hermione asked.

"No, she left about half an hour ago, said she didn't want to get caught out after curfew."

"Curfew isn't for another hour," she said, and she was right.

"Yeah… Confused me too, that one," Neville replied, rubbing his neck.

"How about you, Ginny?" Harry asked. He was getting the feeling she had something she wanted to say and he wasn't in the mood for the tension of waiting.

She jumped slightly at hearing her name, like she'd tuned out completely and forgotten Harry was there. Then she fixed him with a wild-eyed stare that flitted to Hermione twice before she answered.

"Umm… Headache… Going to bed, goodnight Harry," she mumbled, even as she scurried away.

"Weird," Neville commented, mirroring Harry's thoughts exactly. "So, is this you guys moving back in?" he asked hopefully.

"I don't think so," Hermione spoke, shaking her head. "Professor McGonagall brought us back because she doesn't know we aren't sleeping here. I'm surprised Percy was so pleasant," she finished in a whisper so the boy in question wouldn't hear.

"I don't think he's noticed you're gone either," Neville said. "He spends all his time up in his dorm; doing work I think."

"Well, at least he doesn't hate me," Hermione reckoned, slumping back into the seat.

"I don't think anyone hates you. They're just freaked out."

"And you aren't?" Harry asked. As much as he liked Neville, the boy was the first on his list of 'people who are liable to freak out'.

"Are you kidding? I'm bricking it! I just know it isn't either of you… Kinda wish it was to be honest, cause at least you wouldn't come after me next… You wouldn't, would you?"

"No, Neville," Harry laughed despite himself, "you'd be safe. Right Hermione? Hermione?"

At some point Hermione had 'looked' away and started breathing worryingly fast and hard. She was shivering, even though the common room was almost uncomfortably hot. Not shivering, idiot, she's shaking.

"Hermione, are you alright?"

"Are they looking?" she breathed, her voice high and quivering. "Are they looking at me?"

"Who?"

"Everyone! All of them! They're looking at me aren't they?"

Harry cast a glance around the room. Not a single pair of eyes met his - some felt like they were making an effort not to, even.

"No-one's looking, Hermione."

His assertion didn't appear to help his friend, who was shrinking in on herself and hyperventilating too hard to talk. Harry looked to Neville with a silent plea for help, but Neville was backing away - so far that he bumped into Percy's table.

"What?" Percy snapped at the interruption.

Neville squeaked and pointed at Hermione.

"Oh, Merlin's beard. What's the matter with her?"

That was a good question. Harry had figured out it was a panic attack - he'd been there enough times himself - but what had started it? Why was she asking about people looking at her? Like she was paranoid all of a sudden?

"It's the crowd," he murmured as it fell into place. She'd come straight from Colin's bedside into the den of the bullies who would be blaming her. The question shouldn't be why was she reacting so badly, it should be how am I holding it together?

"Right… Right," Percy said, shaking himself out of his annoyed funk then addressing the room. "Right, people, I think this party's about wrapped up. Let's all head on up to dorms. I'll get the elves to clean this up and let you all know as soon as we hear anything more about Colin."

The partygoers stared at him blankly. Harry supposed this was the earliest a post quidditch party had ever ended, but Percy wasn't wrong; the atmosphere had crashed at the news and hadn't picked up since. When the twins' eyes fell on Hermione falling apart in the corner, they did something entirely out of character; they agreed with their brother.

"Alright, you heard the prefect," one shouted.

"Yeah, come on, off to bed!"

"Chop chop, hurry up!"

"Last one there gets a rotten egg!"

The other twin produced an egg - do they carry those around all the time? - and brandished it at the crowd. It took all of two minutes for the room to empty, but for Percy, Harry and Hermione. The twins gave an outrageous wink as they were the last up the stairs.

Hermione was still struggling, but Harry thought she looked a little calmer than before. Either that, or her lungs were getting tired.

"I'll calm her down," he assured Percy, who was lingering, "you go on up."

"Alright, Harry. Come get me if you need, and don't be too late up."

"Thanks, Percy. I won't be up late."

I won't be coming up at all, he thought as Hermione started shuddering again.

Going to get me. All of them going to get me. Need to run, need to run, can't run. Room too small, exit too small, they can block it. They can stop me escaping. No escaping. Need to hide need to be small. Need to make self smaller.

Hermione pulled her legs up and cradled them in her arms. She started rocking; it felt nice.

Can't run can't breathe. Why so hard to breathe. In out in out in out, breathing in out. Rock back and forward. In out in out in out, rock back. In out in out, forward.

"Hermione."

Found me they found me. Smaller.

"Hermione please. How do I help you?"

Can't help, can't be helped. No helping me. No help coming. In out in out make myself smaller in out.

"Hermione, I'm here."

In out in out TOUCHING ME! No touching me stop touching me, "LET GO!" in out in out.

"Sorry, sorry."

Hand gone makes it better in out no touching is better rock back in out rock forth in out. Noises gone? Noises gone people gone. People gone, people not looking. Not looking is better no people is better, "Go away," in out in out.

"I'm not leaving you like this."

Like this? Like this? What is this? What am I doing? Stupid useless hopeless what am I doing?

"I'm not leaving you alone."

Alone. Alone and blind. Blind and helpless they're going to get me. They're going to get me and kick me out and snap my wand and and and. No wand no magic. No school no books. No magic no books no cure. No cure, blind forever. Alone forever helpless forever. Blind and alone and helpless. Oh God in out in out please not forever in out in out.

"Talk to me, please."

"No," can't talk need to breathe in out in out. Can't talk can't think can't stop thinking. So hard to think so tired. Eyes tired.

She rubbed her face. She hadn't had phantom pains in months, but her eyes were itching now.

Eyes hurt eyes itch need to scratch need blindfold off to scratch can't take off blindfold not alone, need to be alone need to be alone, "Go away," need to be alone in out in out in out.

The sofa shifted.

Sofa moving, person leaving. Friend leaving, leaving me alone, blind and alone don't want to be blind and alone. Don't want to be alone, please don't leave me alone please don't leave me, tell them not to leave me, can't speak need to breathe in out can't breathe in out.

She grabbed at the air and found Harry's arm, and clutched it tight.

No leaving, stay, stay with me, "stay."

"I can stay if you want."

Say yes can't speak say yes.

She nodded her head so hard it hurt. Everything hurt. A hand laid across the back of hers.

Grabbing, touching, holding, staying. Staying good please stay please hold me please protect me in out in out.

"It's OK Hermione. It's OK. You're safe."

Safe? Safe would be good. Safe would be nice. Safe is nice.

"You need to breathe slower."

Can't, need air need air, shake head, need air.

"Deep breaths, Hermione, come on. Deep breath in."

In out in out in.

"And out."

Out in out.

"And in."

In.

"And out, that's it."

Out. Feels good.

In. Feels calm.

Out. Feels safe. Back and forth why am I rocking back and forth, stop rocking. In. Legs hurt, need stretching, let go of legs. Out.

"You feeling better?"

Question. Question needs answer.

"Y-yes?"

Throat tired. Head tired. Need to sleep, need to lie down.

Hermione carefully lay herself down on the sofa, feeling her strength draining and her mind clouding over. Within a minute, immense tiredness claimed her to a fitful sleep.

A/N

Sorry Hermione. Have I said that before? I feel like I've said that before.

Thanks to stevem1 and Gatherer for reviewing.

Backstory is mostly canon (Hermione's affliction notwithstanding), except that Rowling wrote about an abused child in a child-friendly manner which could never do the subject justice, whereas I'm writing under the 'Mature' tag for reasons other than smut. What is liable to change is characters' actions and feelings in regards to the backstory, because the canon response to Harry's upbringing by those around him feels so out of character for them. Rowling had the plot drive character action; I'm letting characters drive the plot.

The kids acting too grown up is definitely a struggle; for the most part I'm attributing it to Harry and Hermione's lonely childhoods and introspective personalities causing them to mature faster than normal, as well as aging everyone up a year. Ginny and Neville should come off as less mature if I do it right, and Luna is... Luna. I would have liked to start writing from when they're 14 or older, but I had to start at the beginning for the story concept to function. *shrugs*

An aside: If anyone has ideas for ways to compensate for blindness using magic (non-curative), please do let me know. I'm not very happy with my own ideas as they stand.