The pain in her head left her with her eyes closed. She knew she was home, she could feel the hard wood beneath her and she pressed her fingers into it. Smelled the vanilla scent of the candles she burned that afternoon, the softness of the pillow beneath her head, and the blanket that smelled like the detergent she had grown up with wrapped around her. She was safe, she would be okay, but the pain. She had felt pain similar to this many times over the last four years. Mental and physical and she was tired. So, so tired.

She pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. The pain was unbearable, she could feel her mind trying to settle from the intrusion. She fought the urge to vomit as the sharp lights flashed beneath her eyelids. The tears prickled behind her eyelids, and she shuttered as she let them fall, tucking her knees deeper into herself. The sobs took over her as she let the pent-up sorrow flow, every memory that had flashed had brought the sorrow that she fought so hard to keep away. She could feel her shoulders shaking as the tears pooled beneath her cheek, soaking into the pillow. Her lungs burned as she fought to take in each breath she let the scream leave her as she poured out the emotions that had bubbled up.

She could forget the bad again, she could stop herself from reliving the war. The fear of it all, of being on the run, being captured. Tortured. Crying over bodies that she had to leave in order to survive. However the fragility of her heart had been laid bare through her memories, she could forget the war, but she could never forgive herself.

She felt hands brush against her head, pushing her hair back behind her ears. Muttering soothing words. Cracking her eyes she saw Blaise as he sat next to her, he shushed her as the sounds got worse. The screams turned to sobs as he pulled her into his lap and let her cry herself back to sleep.

The second time she woke she could open her eyes. She found herself lying on her bed, the blankets undisturbed as she had been placed on top. She could see the light from the hall filter in through the cracked door. Casting shadows throughout the room. She swallowed the panic that was trying to build itself up and gently sat up, wincing at the pain in her mind. She felt for her wand and found it tucked beneath the flimsy blanket from the couch. She took note of the corners of the room and waited for her breath to even out. The shadows morphed from figures back to shadows. She shook her head slightly and winced. She was safe, there weren't people hidden in the shadows of her room. She rose from the bed and walked herself through the door, hugging herself with her arms.

"How do you feel," Blaise said from across the room. She was getting Deja Vue from when she first moved in, they had found themselves in a friendship of convenience those first years. He needed a place to stay and she needed someone who wouldn't judge what she had become. He learned quickly not to approach her from behind, to announce himself before she saw him, to give her space. She felt the sadness, knowing that this was what he was doing now.

"I'm okay," She said approaching him and sitting down, the coffee in front of her warmed itself as Blaise cast the spell on the mug. She grabbed the cup warming her hands and relaxing her shoulders.

"I didn't know he knew where we lived. I kept it from him. I knew he was alive and was fine but there was no way your paths would have crossed. You met with clients, not victims. Then your clients became the victims and I worried but the months turned into almost a year and there hadn't been any paths crossed so I let it go." Blaise fiddled with his cup as he talked. She closed he eyes and sighed taking a drink.

"It is not your fault, you didn't know he would come here. I'm the one that got him fi.."

"His actions are not your responsibility." Blaise ground out, his cup hitting the table causing her to jump. "You are not at fault because he came in here, you didn't cause this"

She fiddled with the bottom of her shirt, twirling the material in her hands.

"Hermione, don't." She avoided his eyes, "I've seen that look before. Don't go sticking your nose where it doesn't belong again." She met his eyes as he muttered in Italian

"We aren't children anymore Blaise."

"No, we aren't, we are just traumatized adults instead." He blew on his coffee and took a sip. She smiled slightly.

"I think I got him fired to help him." She sighed drinking her own.

"Why in Merlins' name did you think that would help him." Blaise stared at her mouth agape.

"He wasn't even hiding his drink, you could smell it on him."

"You came home 5 nights a week bottle deep reaching for another" He replied eyebrows raising.

"Yes, two years ago."

"He wasn't exactly getting support in Azkaban. All of this is beside the point. When you get the urge to help him, do yourself a favor and simply don't" Blaise shrugged. She bit her lip and he groaned. "He doesn't have to be a five-year charity case for you to pick up. There is no game, no one forcing your hand. Just stay away from him" She rose and placed her cup in the sink. "I'm talking to my bloody self" he sighed getting up and walking away.