Author's Note: Just another friendly reminder for readers who might not remember the previous A/N I left about this. (It's been awhile since I was actively posting this story, I know.) This story is about depression. Every single character (even the ones it's not immediately obvious) is experiencing some form of depression and coping with it in their own varied and toxic or non-toxic ways. Depression sucks. If you've never been personally touched by it, please count yourself fortunate. It's not easy nor is it something that someone can just 'snap out of'. Telling someone to be happy or 'get over it' is less than useless. It won't happen. People who struggle with depression don't always act rationally, especially when they are in the midst of a very dark chapter. Please be kind and respectful to the fact that the characters are struggling and yes, they are making poor decisions from time to time. Kind of what happens when you are depressed.
If you're wanting a story where everyone is happy and make only rational choices and never act strangely, this story is not for you. No hard feelings. Lots of those stories are available. I'm trying to write as accurate a description for depression as I can. That's what makes this story hard to write sometimes, but I'm powering through it because I'm determined to have it done soon. I know there is magic in this story, but there will be no magic waving of a wand to cure depression and make everyone blissfully happy. Thank you for understanding… or for not continuing to read this if you want that sort of story. I can't give it to you. As someone who struggles herself with depression on a regular basis and has for most of her life, that feels disingenuous to me. I'd rather be messy but real.
Chapter Twelve
With an enormous amount of reluctance, Harry forced himself to return to his depressing empty house. There never seemed to be anything waiting for him there beyond regrets and sorrow. Truthfully, he should've had the house torn down years earlier. What was making him hold on to a piece of the past that caused him such pain?
Leaving Luna always made him feel a little lost and far too introspective for his own liking. She could be such a breath of fresh air, a ray of necessary sunlight, or one of four thousand other embarrassing cliches he should be embarrassed to consider. He was putting too much on her he knew. It wasn't fair to make anyone the source of his own happiness no matter how wonderful and strong they might be. That was just asking for trouble. Luna was only human. It was his responsibility to discover his own joy. Too many expectations would only lead to bitterness and resentment. Was that a lesson he was doomed to relearn over and over again?
Sitting back inside his dismal, silent house, Harry felt a real sense of being lost. With his goal of destroying all of the dementors completed, he didn't know what to do next. Why couldn't he be happy for just a little while? What he accomplished was an incredible feat that would be talked about for hundreds of years in dusty history books. Everyone else was celebrating what he did. While he was proud of it, he didn't know why he couldn't just enjoy the moment he was in without obsessing over which battle he needed to fight next.
A lifetime spent in near constant action made him particularly irritable when forced to remain still for too long a time. Essentially hiding in his house for too long would drive him mad. As much as he might have earned himself a nice, long holiday, a break to do nothing in, for his contributions in ridding the world of evil nightmares like the dementors, he had a legitimate worry for his personal sanity. It wasn't wise to be idle.
Harry felt empowered with a plan, even a simple one, in mind. Deciding that it wouldn't hurt to at least have a conversation with Kingsley about what to do next with his life, he readied himself for an impromptu visit to the Ministry of Magic. He'd always valued the Minister's opinion since long before he was anything more than just an auror. If there was a direction he needed to go in, he felt confident that his old friend could help guide him.
It was easy to be both glad and nervous for the arrival of Monday morning. Hermione was grateful for a reason to be able to get out of her house for a few hours, but she was also nervous to see Kingsley again. Being stuck inside her house with Barty for an entire weekend had been fraught with complications and irritations she hadn't expected. Only the worry that she might cross paths with the Minister for Magic unexpectedly in the building they both worked in kept her from getting too excited about escaping to work. How would seeing him again go? She couldn't imagine very well.
When she finally stopped dragging her feet at home and finding ridiculous reasons to stay longer than she should, Hermione forced herself into the office. A place she had often found a peaceful refuge, it bothered her immensely that she didn't feel so at ease any longer. Around every corner she expected to run straight into Kingsley. She wasn't ready to see him yet. Maybe she never would. Every time she thought about how he broke the chair in her kitchen and screamed at her she feared they would never be able to salvage their once treasured friendship.
To her great relief, she managed to make her to her office without seeing the man she wished to avoid. Safe within the confines of the small room, she busied herself with the work that was already waiting. There was always a lot to do. She hoped the day would pass quickly if she kept her mind occupied even if she also wasn't all that anxious to return home either. It was rather disheartening that she didn't feel like she had a place where she could fully relax any longer. Would she ever stop being furious with Kingsley for making her take in Barty? Likely it would take time if it was even possible.
She felt as if she was the only one doing the right thing. Barty, no matter how odious a person he could be, had paid his debt. Demanding he return to prison after his ordeal was unethical and just wrong. Why couldn't anyone else feel the same way? But even as passionately as she believed he deserved the opportunity to pursue a second chance, she didn't want him to be her personal burden. It was far too much to ask.
A heavy sigh exploded out of her at the exact moment Blaise entered their shared office. He was in an annoyingly chipper mood for so early in the morning. Not that it was really all that early. The wizard worked when he felt like it, played most of the time, and still managed to somehow get more credit than she did. If he had any worries at all in his pampered, overly privileged life, she certainly couldn't imagine what they might be. Immediately after allowing those thoughts to take root in her mind, she hated herself for feeling jealous about his life and how it seemed carefree. She must be in a horrible funk indeed if she'd rather be Blaise for even a moment. The horrid man's amused chuckling only reiterated that truth.
"You have always had a marvelous knack for making me feel welcome, love."
She really was not in the mood for him.
"If that made you feel like I wanted you in this office and breathing my same air, I clearly didn't sigh hard enough."
"Sighs are often quite welcoming and encouraging in the right setting. I enjoy hearing them when they're low and breathy."
Hermione rolled her eyes to his continued amusement. If it was even possible, she would love to somehow make it through a single day without having to listen to Blaise brag about his sex life. Not for the first time she wished the wizarding world had the same laws about sexual harassment in the workplace that Muggles took for granted. There had been times in the past when she'd been frustrated enough to consider reporting him to someone in their department with more authority. Almost as soon as she had that thought she recognized the futility of it. She knew if she ever tried to report Blaise's inappropriate remarks to anyone, she was more likely to be accused of being jealous of him than anything actually being done to stop him. Ignoring him, or at least attempting to, seemed to her her only option that morning. Unfortunately, that never worked for very long.
"Were there any interesting sighs in your house this past weekend, love?"
Never before had Hermione felt such a strong desire to curse him right in his overused groin. Every word that he said annoyed her to her very bones, especially his continued use of the word 'love'. Out of anyone else's mouth it was usually kind or endearing. Not with Blaise. Something about the way he said it made her sick to her stomach.
"I don't want to even think about what you're implying."
"Not implying anything at all. I was just curious to know if you and your delightful houseguest have been getting along."
"We are cordial, if that's what you mean, but I know it's not."
Each passing second only irritated her more and more. Knowing exactly the sort of effect he was having on his fellow legal analyst, Blaise looked up from his desk to offer another one of his infuriating smirks. She was on the verge of losing her temper in a spectacular fashion. Was Azkaban really all that bad? Permanently removing the wizard from polite society was potentially a great service she could offer. Maybe she would even be rewarded for it.
"A lot can happen when two people are alone in a confined space over a weekend. Did Crouch finally get a better look at those tits he claimed was a sin to cover up?"
It was easy to tell that Blaise was loving every moment of her discomfort. Had he spent part of the weekend going over in his head what sort of offensive questions he could ask to get under her skin the worst? She wouldn't be surprised to discover a written list of foul questions in the pocket of his robes. How could someone continue to be so crude and inappropriate in what was supposed to be a professional setting? Sometimes he was amusing, usually he was infuriating.
Was she wasting her life spending so much of it sitting at that damned desk only steps away from his? It certainly felt like it. Was she really making any sort of difference in the world that would make being constantly miserable worth it? The worsening thoughts and worries that she was squandering the limited time she was allotted only made her spirits sink further and further into the deepening pit she'd been trying unsuccessfully to climb out of for awhile.
Allowing herself to give into her pitiful thoughts for only a few minutes, Hermione took a deep breath and made a decision. She refused to let Blaise continue to think he won anything that morning. Too often she gave him far more power than he deserved in their interactions. Turning her full attention on him, she ignored the cheeky smirk she wanted to curse off his handsome face. Thankfully her voice sounded much stronger than she felt on the inside. He was the sort to seek out any potential or perceived weakness to use to his advantage.
"Perhaps you are no better than a wild animal, but we can all be thankful that not everyone else in the world is like you. Some of us are perfectly capable of existing in the same space as another and keeping our clothes on."
His loud laughter filled their office. She took another deep breath, unwilling to give in even a little to his ego. For three years she had been navigating around him. She wouldn't suddenly stop fighting and roll over.
"Maybe you should be more like me. I dare say I'm much happier."
Somehow he possessed a knack for zeroing in on just the right combination of words to sting her pride the most. Could she even try to argue that he was incorrect? Life hadn't been all that enjoyable for her for quite some time. When did it all start to feel so heavy and burdensome? She knew she used to smile more and there was even a time she was quick to laugh. It felt like a lifetime ago. Or even someone else's life entirely.
Despite her best efforts to keep her face as neutral as possible, thus preventing the cretin for knowing he was bothering her, she felt her eyes narrow and her features settle into a deep scowl. It made her angry to think he might be correct. No, her life wasn't half as exciting as his life appeared to be. She wasn't even sure she wanted what he had, but the audacity to taunt her with a reminder that her existence wasn't as fulfilling as she's always hoped and expected it would be when she reached her age was too much. Ignoring the truth was much easier when it wasn't being shoved in her face.
Her glare only served to amuse Blaise even more than he already was. Was he always able to find such joy in another person's misery or was she a special case? It was entirely possible, even probable, that he just simply hated her personally. As she stared at his smirk she loathed so much, Hermione really looked closely at her coworker for what might have been the first time. Too often she was eager to look away at the first chance she could. He might have been smiling, but his eyes weren't.
She nearly laughed out loud. So he was just playing a part. How had she never noticed he was every bit as miserable as everyone else? It made her feel a little better. Blaise suddenly had less power over her than before. They were all fucked up. Was it their generation simply because of what they were forced to go through while they were growing up? Or was it a normal aspect of the human condition to be so miserable? It might have been a fascinating research opportunity to explore if she wasn't one of the test subjects.
"If that's what you have to keep telling yourself to make it through the day, then yes, Blaise, you are clearly much happier than I am. I aspire to be just like you one day."
With some of the glee gone from teasing her, it didn't take much encouragement to persuade the wizard to return his full focus on his work. Hermione followed, slightly buoyed by her realization she wasn't alone. For a long while neither of them spoke beyond professional discussions regarding the contracts and other official scrolls they were reviewing. Sometimes they both needed a second opinion or help with clarification. They might get on each other's nerves but neither of them could deny the other had a brilliant legal mind. It helped make their jobs easier even if it wasn't always easy to deal with the other on a personal level.
The day passed far more swiftly than Hermione expected it would. She was able to nearly lose herself in her work completely. Only a few thoughts about Barty and what happened over the weekend managed to break through. It didn't take much redirection to get her mind back on her work. By late afternoon, however, knowing she was creeping closer to having to return home, she couldn't push away her thoughts as easily. She was able to avoid continuing the uncomfortable, insane conversation they had in the clinic. Would she continue to be successful when she got home?
"Blaise, if you saw someone standing near the edge of a cliff, would you just assume at once that they were wanting to jump?"
For the first few seconds after she blurted out her question, she regretted saying anything at all. Then she realized with no small bit of astonishment that she actually wanted to know what he thought. When did that happen? Blaise set his quill down on top of his desk to give her his full attention. He seemed to carefully consider her question before answering.
"I suppose it would depend on whether or not they seemed distressed. I think there's a part of human nature that makes us morbidly curious about what's at the bottom of a dangerous cliff. Most of us would brave the danger to look. Not always the most intelligent idea, but unless the person seemed distressed or out of their mind, no, I wouldn't assume they were there to jump."
She wasn't sure if that was comforting or not. Barty believed she was on the edge of the cliff to jump. Did she seem distressed that night? Out of her mind? She'd been frustrated and humiliated by Kingsley the night before but was she upset enough for Barty to really believe she was in danger from herself?
"You weren't asking a hypothetical question. What happened?"
Knowing Blaise as she did, Hermione was well aware that he wasn't the sort to drop the subject until he was satisfied with an answer. She tried to smile and brush it all off as nothing very important or interesting.
"I couldn't sleep the other night so like I often do, I went for a walk. Ended up by the cliffs near my house. While I was standing there, Crouch followed me to make sure I wasn't about to fling myself into the ocean."
Blaise didn't immediately speak when she gave him a very simple description of the events of that night. Just stared at her while he processed what she'd just told him. It wasn't comfortable to be under such scrutiny. She almost wished she could read the incorrigible pervert's mind. Maybe that would make the waiting easier.
"Have you ever thought about jumping?"
His questions startled her. Not him too! Was she giving off an impression that she was that desperately unhappy? She was prepared to be nasty in her response, but stopped herself. He at least appeared on the surface to be asking a genuine question.
"I think anyone who has ever stood at the edge of a cliff has had at least a passive thought of what would happen if they jumped."
"True. I suppose it's human nature."
"But that doesn't mean I'm insane or wishing to end my life. That's just ridiculous."
Blaise shrugged his shoulders.
"Maybe I wouldn't see you and assume you were going to jump, but I'm also not Crouch. I can't even imagine what goes through his mind after what he's been through. It's possible he worried you were about to throw yourself into the ocean because that's exactly what he wants to do himself."
She hadn't even considered that possibility, a fact that made her feel both stupid and overly self-absorbed. Annoyed that she hadn't thought the same, it seemed so obvious when Blaise said it out loud. It made sense, especially when she thought about the day she found him standing on the edge staring out. Was he considering jumping and she managed to stop him? She would've thought she would be relieved that he would no longer be her problem but she wasn't. It felt good that she could offer him help when he needed it. Life was precious and should never be squandered.
After beginning their conversation she felt a little bit better about herself even as she was surprised to discover she was worried about Barty. It seemed an awful idea for him to kill himself after he'd been given a second chance. A waste, really. Somehow she needed to figure out how to tell him that.
"He can't have come away from that undamaged. I don't think it's all that unreasonable to assume he might one day throw himself off that cliff."
It was late enough in the day that after one look at the clock, Blaise stood up to gather his belongings. Moments later he headed out of the office leaving her alone with her thoughts. She would need to pay close attention to Barty to see how he was handling the strain of suddenly being back in his body. He was giving off the impression that he was doing remarkably well, all things considered, but she knew people were often good at concealing their true feelings. She certainly thought she was.
When she could find nothing else to keep her attention for long, she decided it was time to call it a day too. Work would always be waiting for her tomorrow. There was no reason to torture herself in an attempt to get it all done that day. No one was screaming at her for the contracts stacked on her desk. Likely they wouldn't even need them for days, if not weeks. Rarely was there any sense of real urgency in their office.
Most of the Ministry officials had already gone home. She was relieved that she was able to make it the entire day without seeing Kingsley once. Hiding in her office and only sneaking down to the canteen long after their busiest time of day had been an effective plan. It was going to be uncomfortable for a while before it was okay between them, assuming it ever was. After all that happened in just a few short days, she thought it likely that their friendship was over forever.
Outside of her front door, Hermione stopped to calm herself with a deep breath. She knew she had to remain as calm as possible when she stepped inside, not allowing Barty to upset her with his mere presence. Though it had gotten marginally better, it was still a less than ideal living situation. Even a break from him for most of the day wasn't likely to make it easier to get along with him. Once she felt like she could be brave enough to face the man without hexing him, she pushed open the front door.
Immediately she was confused by the scene she witnessed. Barty stood at her desk in the lounge with her mobile pressed against his ear and smiling. In all of the excitement the night before, she hadn't bothered to turn it back off and put back inside the drawer it usually sat in. Very few people from the Muggle world ever tried to contact her and it was unnecessary to keep the damned thing constantly charged and ready for use. Why would he be holding the mobile? She didn't understand until she hard a voice coming out of the device. It was too quiet for her to hear from the other side of the room. How did Barty know how to use a mobile? Who was he talking to? She had a least a dozen questions she needed to ask. Barty saw her standing inside and his smile disappeared.
"Thank you for checking. I will bring them back in soon."
He quickly ended the call on the mobile and cleared his throat.
"That was the Muggle animal healer… the veterinarian. She wanted to know how the kittens were doing and to ask me to bring them back in a week or two for a follow-up."
"And to take more of my money, no doubt."
She wasn't sure why she said that. It just sort of slipped out. She didn't really mind paying for the kittens' care. It was the right thing to do after all and what she would've done even without Barty there. Something about the veterinarian ringing the mobile and talking to Barty annoyed her. She couldn't explain why. The woman had been kind and helpful when she was needed.
"I will find a way to pay you back. I can get a job or maybe my worthless cousin hasn't sold all of my valuables."
Hermione sighed, feeling like a terrible human being.
"No, that's not necessary. I don't mind."
Another sigh escaped out of her mouth. Making the man feel guilty about the veterinarian bill was not her intention. It was easy to tell that he was embarrassed by his inability to pay his own way. If she was in the same situation, she knew she would feel like he did.
"It was a long day. I'm not in the best mood."
Barty's smile was kind.
"I was just about to make some tea. Would you..?"
"Thank you. That would be lovely."
Only able to make one step towards the kitchen, Barty stopped when they both heard a knock on the front door. Hermione couldn't imagine who it might be. After a long day, she didn't want company. The additional reminder that her last visitor was Kingsley and it was absolutely not irrational to worry it was him again made her suddenly very, very tired. She didn't want to deal with any unnecessary dramatics. It had been a long enough day. Preparing herself yet again for something that was potentially unpleasant, she took a deep breath and opened the front door. Barty hovered a few steps behind her in the background. If she allowed herself to think about it, she would've realized how much she appreciated knowing that she had his support. Just in case it was the Minister for Magic she was glad that she wasn't by herself. She hardly had time to register who was standing in front of her when she heard the familiar voice.
"We should probably talk."
Harry looked every bit as uncomfortable as she felt.
