Stolen From Me by lillyfan16

Rating: PG13
Genres: Angst, Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 4
Published: 14/06/2006
Last Updated: 14/06/2006
Status: In Progress

Hermione cried herself to sleep that night and almost every night since. A few days later she
had been informed that he would be staying in a mental institution until further notice. Hermione
was a mess for weeks. She appealed his case over and over, trying to reason with them, but to no
avail. They ignored her. Hermione felt fresh pain as she remembered the entire ordeal. The
sleepless nights. The loneliness. The fact that Harry was in that place. Everything. . . Hermione
has a bad day again. This story is based off a situation I am having at the moment with my best
friend. First chapter is a songfic to Fuel's "Bad Day."




1. Bad Day Again
----------------

**Hey guys, what’s up? Some of you who read my story the Potter Vs. Granger Rivalry story know
that I said I had some problems with a best friend of mine, which is why I took so long to post. I
also mentioned that I was working on a new story that mirrored the situation I am in, well, here it
is. So I guess this is my way of kinda getting my feelings out because I don’t know any other way
to. The letter and poem in this story are taken from a letter Ashleigh had written me (slightly
modified) and a poem I had written after drawing a picture of what I was feeling a few weeks back,
so sorry if they make no sense to any of you. I plan on this being 3 chapters, that’s it. It’s a
songfic to a few of Fuel’s songs, one’s that I listened to a lot when she left. Lol, and our song
isn’t “Heaven” by Warrant, so that was just tossed in here. (Ours in Barbie Girl. . .lol. We love
that one!) Anyway, it’s angst, but I think it’s good. I hope you like it. Kinda a new perspective
on Harry’s heroism after the War (one that I haven’t came across yet anyway).**

**Disclaimer: Nothing is mine but the pain. All JKR’s. The lyrics are to the song “Bad Day” by
Fuel and “Heaven” by Warrant.**

**Dedication: This is to anyone who has had their best friend taken away from them. I have the
worst luck with best friends, lol. They always move away or I do, or in this case, she got taken
away. I’m sure some of you guys can feel me on this.**

**Chapter One: Bad Day Again**

**I had a bad day again
She said I would not understand
She left a note that said I'm sorry, I
I had a bad day again

She spilled her coffee broke a shoelace
Smeared the lipstick on her face
Slammed the door and said I'm sorry, I
I had a bad day again

And she swears there's nothing wrong
I hear her playing that same old song
She puts me up and puts me on
I had a bad day again**

**“Bad Day” FUEL**

Ron wandered aimlessly through the cupboards in the kitchen, searching for something to tide him
over until dinner. He grabbed a plate from the dish drainer, then shook off the excess water so
droplets flew in every direction before he pulled the box of leftover-pizza from the night before
out of the refrigerator. He, Luna, Draco, and Ginny had all rented a few films and ordered pizza
last night. Ron had invited Hermione too, but she had said that she was busy and that she’d come
over later on tonight to make up for it.

Without bothering to warm up the leftovers, Ron unceremoniously trooped into the living room and
turned on the television. The Irish and French Quidditch teams had a match tonight. He plopped down
on the couch and began to munch on his pizza while waiting for Draco to get home. They were going
to watch the match together. Not ten minutes later before the match stared, his flat mate finally
decided to pop in .


“About bloody time!” Ron said, watching as Draco tossed his jacket towards the chair but
missed.

“The match hasn’t even started yet! Climb off your soapbox, mate,” and with that, he rushed off
into the kitchen to get some pizza himself.

“Oy, Draco, grab me a soda while you’re in there,” Ron called as he kicked off his shoes and
turned the volume up with the remote. They were interviewing Alex Finn, the new Keeper for the
Irish.

He suddenly felt something cold on back of his neck, “Oy!” he shouted as he jumped from
surprise. Ron heard Draco laugh then felt the can of soda fall into his lap. “Did you *have*
to chuck it at me? Now it’s going to explode when I open it!” Ron complained, which just made Draco
roll his eyes.

“Calm down, Weasley. Just don’t open it for a few minutes. You just better be glad I got your
ungrateful arse something.”

Ron scoffed. “I saved you a few slices of pizza, you know. I could have *easily* eaten the
rest of it,” Ron pointed out.

Draco just rolled his eyes again, “For some reason, that doesn’t surprise me,” he muttered
before increasing the volume on the television, causing Ron to give an indignant huff before
dropping the subject as the Quidditch match became underway.

An hour later and the match was still going as strong as ever with no hint of it finishing off
anytime soon. The score was 270-230 with the Irish in the lead. Ron was laughing at the
*strategic* move a French Beater made: He hit the Bludger, and instead of it hitting one of
the Irish players, the crazed ball went after one of the French Chasers.

Ron was still snickering slightly when a tapping sound caught his attention. He saw a snowy owl
tapping at the window. He immediately waved his wand for the window to open and allow the owl
in.

Ron untied the letter from it’s let and allowed Hedwig to nip at a leftover piece of sausage
from Draco’s plate.

“It’s from Hermione,” he heard Draco say, stating the obvious.

*Ron--*

*I’m sorry, but I can’t make it over tonight. I. . .I had a bad day again. I think it’s best
if I just stay home and keep busy. I won’t make very good company, and I just feel very much like
being alone. I hope you understand. Tell everyone I said hi and that I’m sorry if I caused any
inconvenience.*

*Love,*

*Hermione*

Ron scanned the short note a second time. He noticed that her handwriting was a little sloppy,
as if she had been upset when she had been writing this.

“Well?” he heard Draco ask, obviously curious about the note. Ron looked up at his mate, sadness
evident in his eyes.

“She’s not coming over tonight,” Ron said lamely. “She had a bad day.”

Draco just nodded in understanding. After a reflective silence, both young men turned their
attention back to the television, however, neither of them cared about the match anymore.

They sad in silence, just the cheers from the Quidditch match filling the quiet flat.

Draco cleared his throat, “She’s getting them more often.”

Ron could just nod. She never had a “good day” anymore. Instead, she had “tolerable days” and
“bad days,” neither of which that were happy or cheerful. It had been so long since Ron had last
seen Hermione happy. He missed her carefree smile and contagious good mood. He even missed their
heated bickering. Things just haven’t been anywhere near the same since *he* left.

Well, not *leave* voluntarily. He would have never even *entertained* the idea of
leaving Hermione or his friends. He knew the heartbreak it would cause.

“Do. . .do you think things are getting better?” Ron asked hesitantly, though he already knew
the answer would be in the negative.

Draco just shook his head. “As much as I hate to say it, Ron, things *won’t* get better. He
doesn’t need to be in that godforsaken place. They *can’t* help him when he doesn’t need any
help in the first place. If it’s not broken, then don’t bother fixing it.”

“I just wish he would fake it or *something*! If he only knew Hermione’s constant state. .
.” Rom trailed off.

Draco sighed, “Well, you know what they say, ‘If wishes were broomstick, then even Muggles would
ride. . .’ Things just won’t get better. Hermione will *never* get used to it or adapt to
Harry being gone and not with her. *I* can’t get used to him in there.”

Ron felt his temper rise when he thought about Harry’s wretched situation. It was so unfair! He
was the goddamn Savoir of the World and *this* is how every showed their gratitude?!?!

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

He had been deemed untrustworthy and dangerous. The War had “change the Boy-Who-Lived forever.”
He was emotionally unstable and a threat, not only to everyone in the world, but to himself as
well. He was sure to go on a killing spree and take innocent lives. The Darkness that he had to
face and conquer had, in the end, consumed his very being. He was labeled as “severely
unhinged.”

He was taken away. Instead of the warm flat that offered love, comfort, protection, and a whole
new beginning--things he had never had outside Hogwarts-- that Harry had once shared with Ron and
Hermione, he resided at a cruel, cold rehabilitation institution with the up-most security and
strict regulations that was more like a prison than a home. Instead of his large warm bed that he
used to sleep in every night with Ron and Hermione just down the hall, he was alone in a cold
environment with no friendly faces down the corridor to sooth him from nightmares.

Witches and wizards alike feared him, feared his power and alleged plans for vengeance. Revenge
against those who mocked him, claimed his words to be false. Those who snickered and agreed about
him being too dangerous to be in school and demanded for him to be sent home immediately.

They feared that Harry Potter would take the place as a new Dark Lord because he had the power
to do so. So, they did the only thing they could think of. One day, his status made a sudden change
from Wizarding World Hero, The-Boy-Who-Vanquished-The-Dark-Lord to Wizarding World Madman,
The-Boy-Who-Should-Be-Kept-Under-Close-Supervison. And what better “supervision” than being in an
institution with no freedom to speak of and under lock-and-key constantly?

Of course, there were those that had outright opposed the very thought of locking the Savior of
the World up, but there weren’t enough to override the ones that *did* want this “potential
dark sorcerer” behind bars. They were grateful and recognized his defeat of the Dark Lord, but they
didn’t want him to mix with society. So, they dug up every dirty secret they could find that could
be held against Harry. “*He had been brought up by harsh Muggles and needed plenty of therapy for
the trauma he had been exposed to by the his relatives and the War before he could be emotionally
stabilized.” “He had a nasty tempter and enough power to destroy Lord Voldemort, surely he isn’t
safe, despite the fact that he was a good person that had never caused any innocent life harm.”*
All his outbursts during his years at Hogwarts, every detention he had received for breaking the
rules *(“Breaking rules is just one step towards discarding laws and participating in criminal
acts!”),* and even his connection with Voldemort had been brought up, as if the former Dark Lord
could channel his evilness through Harry after he had been destroyed completely!

There had been controversy over whether or not he may have even played a part in Dumbledore’s
death. Surly *Snape* couldn’t have killed such a powerful wizard alone, and even if he
*could* have, why would he let Harry Potter, conveniently the only witness, live? Most
believed that Harry Potter would never do such a thing, but there were those that *did* think
Harry may have been an accomplice in order to do away with the one wizard that could overthrow him
once he gained power. Some that *didn’t* think Harry had played a role in his death lied and
said that they *did* think he had had something to do with it, just to discredit him.

This was all, naturally, just a load of rubbish. Anyone and everyone that knew the *real*
Harry Potter knew how preposterous everything that had been debated over him, but there were so few
of them that they made no impact on his case. Everyone had fought tooth-and-nail against these
accusations-- Ron, Draco, Luna, Ginny, Neville, Lupin, Tonks, the rest of the Weasleys, and most of
all, Hermione. Not a day went by when she didn’t plead his case and try to persuade anyone who
would listen that their assumptions made about the alleged madman were completely false.

Hermione's hands were shaking slightly as she finished her letter to Regeliccutti's
Mental Institution, where Harry currently resided. She wrote them everyday; she knew they didn’t
read her letters anymore, but she couldn’t just sit here while he was in that *place*.

She carefully sealed the envelope, then stood up from the table. Hermione would have to wait for
Hedwig to return before she could send it.

Hermione drifted into the hall and stopped in front of varnished wooden door, leading into her
most favorite and hated room in the flat. Tears slowly started to brim at her eyes as her shaking
hand gently grasped the cool brass knob and then pushed the door open, a whisper of a creaking
sound echoing throughout the empty hall.

The smell hit her first, just as she knew it would. She would never understand why it surprised
her every time she opened the door that *his* smell would ensnare her senses so quickly. She
expected it every time, but it still, somehow, always caught her by surprise. She let her eyes
wander about the deserted room with such a familiarity that she felt her already-broken heart break
just a little bit more. Slowly, as if trying not to disturb the atmosphere with quick movements or
loud sounds, Hermione carefully closed the door and walked further into the room. Everything was
still in it’s place. His bed in the far corner with his old Hogwarts trunk lying at the end of it,
full of old textbooks and memories. His bed was done up neatly (probably due to habit from his long
stay at the meticulous Dursleys’ house) with a blue bedspread, a small ripple at the corner that
Hermione refused to smooth out. His blue pillow had a small indention in it from the last time his
head had lain on it. Beside his bed sat a small table with a lamp on it and a Quidditch book. The
rest of the room was mostly tidy, save a few miscellaneous items thrown carelessly about: a red
shirt that was inside-out lying in front of his wardrobe closet, tossed aside in haste; a zigzagged
stack of cd cases beside his small stereo; a gray hoody with a few dirt streaks on the arm casually
flung over a chair. . .

Hermione put her hand over her mouth to muffle the sob that begged to escape her throat. She
walked shakily over to Harry’s stereo and gently pressed the power button. After turning it to the
right track number and then pressing the repeat button, Hermione slowly began to sway to the
leisured music. It was Harry’s favorite song. It was *their* song. Hermione would listen to it
constantly. Hermione slowly made her way to Harry’s beckoning bed and gently sat down, her eyes
tightly shut as if she expected something to blow up when she sat down. Nothing happened. She
kicked her shoes off and leaned back on the bed, his smell capturing her by surprise again. His bed
always offered warmth and comfort, now it was just cold without his body to keep it’s warmth. It
was mocking her about something that she no longer had. Tears fell from her cinnamon eyes as
Warrant’s “Heaven” rang throughout the room. Hermione buried her head into his pillow and let out a
loud sob.

It was so unfair! She was hurting. Hurting more than she had ever hurt before. Hermione wasn’t a
very emotional person. She didn’t have time to cry and wallow over a broken heart. But she couldn’t
save herself from the emotions that hammered through her head and coursed through the very blood in
her veins like poison. He never strayed from her mind. Her heart continuously shattered over and
over every time his name rang through her mind, which was constantly. She tried to push him from
her mind, and for the last week, she had done a decent job of it and was able to hold herself
together. She still wrote Regel’s, but it was more of a “going-through-the-daily-motions” deal.
However, she couldn’t do it for long. His memory was imprinted in her mind so strongly that is was
impossible to forget about it. She couldn’t pretend that she didn’t hurt anymore. It was too much
work.

Hermione knew she was a poor actress and wasn’t fooling anybody. She could fee their worries and
futile comfort attempts. She could feel their hesitation and apprehension in her presence. They all
tried to include her. They all tried to show her she had other people that loved her and cared for
her. They tried, despite their own pain. . .but their efforts were in vain. They couldn’t replace
her best friend, her everything.

No one was like Harry. No one understood her so well and loved her so much. No one was such a
good listener and gave such sound advice. The War *had* changed him. He was still the same old
Harry, but there was a mature and wise air about him now. Not too many noticed the change, but
Hermione had. She sensed his childishness melt away as he was forced to grow up. Hell, they
*all* were forced to leave their child innocence and ignorant selves behind and look at cruel
reality, even death, in the face. It was harsh, it was tough, but it had to be done. And Harry was
the one that led them all. He pushed himself more than anyone else. He readied himself and swore to
not rest until Voldemort was defeated, despite the poor odds.

He fulfilled his oath. He killed that bastard. Why was the Wizarding World acting so ungrateful?
Did they not see what Harry went through? Did they not see how much pain he suffered? Do they know
what putting him in a cage would do to him? To his loved ones? To *Hermione*?

They didn’t care. They got their peace, they were satisfied. They don’t want to chance it
happening again. They don’t care what Harry is going through right now. They don’t care that Harry
was suppose to finally be able to live the life he had always wanted. They didn’t care about taking
everything away from him.

Hermione sang tearfully to the music, her voice soft and painful. Hearing herself sing along to
the music soothed her, but did nothing to heal her pain. It brought back memories, memories of them
together and what they had all been through. It pained her to listen, but at the same time, the
song made her feel more connected to him somehow. Tears fell freely as she remembered the night
they had danced in the Common Room to this very song. . .

*Hermione was reading a book in the dimming firelight, while Harry was absently rubbing her
feet at the opposite end of the couch. The rest of the room was deserted at this late hour. She
continued to read while Harry unceremoniously traced random patterns on her bare feet. Suddenly,
she felt her feet being lifted in the air slightly as Harry stood up. She eyed him uneasily when
she noticed that devilish grin grace his face, making her nervous.*

*“What are you doing?” she asked slowly when he took her book from her limp fingers. He
dog-eared the page she had been on, tossed it aside, then took her hand to help her stand up.
“Harry?”*

*“Yes?” he asked innocently. The fire seemed to dim suddenly, making the orange embers glow
brightly in the dark Common Room. Harry’s emerald eyes brightened, standing out behind his glasses,
his messy hair tousled in all directions. His white button-up shirt was un-tucked from his school
slacks. Hermione’s breath caught in her throat as she stood there, slightly in awe, and realized
just how beautiful he was.*

*She noticed he was looking at her funny, and he asked softly, “Hermione? Something
wrong?”*

*She was jarred from her appreciation of his physical being by his voice, low and slightly
fearful. She just smiled sweetly at him in adoration, “Nothing. I was just thinking about how
beautiful you were,” she confessed. She watched as he blushed at the compliment, unable to meet her
eyes.*

*She gave a soft laugh, “So, what exactly are we doing?” Hermione asked, gesturing their
position. They were standing in the middle of the Common Room in front of the dying fire with
Harry’s hand was on her hip while the other was at his side, his fingers laced with her
own.*

*Harry grinned at her and picked up his wand and gave it a small wave. Soft music was suddenly
heard, causing Hermione to smile. Harry wrapped both of his strong arms around Hermione’s middle,
pressing her body against his own. “We’re dancing, of course.” She encircled her arms around his
neck, and the duo slowly started to sway to the music.*

***The memories are gray
but man they're really coming back

I don't need to be the king of the world
As long as I'm the hero of this little girl

Heaven isn't too far away
Closer to it every day
No matter what your friends might say***

*“I love this song,” Harry breathed in her ear, causing Hermione to shiver with pleasure.
“It’s my favorite.”*

*Hermione smiled softly at him, “The song is a really nice one. It suits you perfectly.” she
declared.*

*Harry grinned in reply and just pulled her closer, softly singing the words to her. Hermione
snuggled as close as possible and let Harry’s voice, though not too impressive but absolutely
perfect to her, wash over her.*

*
**When I come home late at night
And your in bed asleep
I wrap my arms around you
So I can feel you breathe

I don't need to be a superman
As long as you will always be my biggest fan***

*“Will you always be my biggest fan, Hermione?” Harry asked, and Hermione could here the
seriousness in his voice. He feared that she would leave him, though his doubts were in
vain.*

*She tried to reassure him, “No, Harry, I’ll never be your fan.”*

*Harry looked at her, his eyes unreadable, but Hermione could feel his grip suddenly tighten
around her as he tensed up.*

*She smiled sincerely at him and gave him a soft kiss on the lips before breathing in his ear,
“I’ll be more than just a fan, Harry. I’ll always be your best friend.* Always*.”*

Hermione buried her head deeply into his pillow once more, clenching her teeth in anger and
pain. She tried to calm herself, but couldn’t.

“Damn you, Harry, why did you have to leave me?” she whispered fiercely before suddenly standing
up. “Damn you! Damn you for making me feel this way.” Hermione cried over and over. She grabbed the
opened Quidditch book that lay on his bedside tale and threw it against the wall in anger. Next,
she picked up his pillow and chucked it at his dresser-top, causing the picture frame that held the
photo of Harry and her at the park to fall to the ground, cracking the glass slightly. Pain
continued to course through her as she pushed Harry’s bedside table over. The music seemed to mock
her, toying with her feelings, so she picked up the lamp that was now on the floor and flung it at
the small stereo, bringing the music to a stop.

Hermione stumbled out of his destroyed room, her tears blurring her vision. She knocked over
everything along the way, ruining the sealed environment of the room that she had tried her
damnedest to keep just how it had been when he left.

As she staggered down the hall, Hermione brought down all the pictures that hung on the walls of
all her friends and family. The living room was next. She took her pain out on everything in her
path. The coffee table toppled to the ground. Picture frames were pushed from the shelves. Hermione
grabbed the candle Luna had gotten her for her birthday and hurled it against the wall, making it
shatter and chip the cream-colored paint. The DVD/VCR player crashed to the ground, their cords
flying behind them. Hermione pushed the couch over, making it lay in it’s side. Once she was
satisfied with the destruction of the living room, Hermione made her way into the kitchen.

The dishes laying in the drainer came first. Hermione threw the plates at the cabinets, causing
them to break. After giving another loud sob, she cleared off the counter by pushing everyone on
the floor, causing knives and appliances to crash to the floor. Hermione jerked the cabinet open
and started chucking glasses left and right, ignoring the stupidity of it. She hurt. She hurt and
she just wanted to take the pain away. Hermione moved on to the next set of cupboards, not noticing
the glass on the floor cut her feet through her socks. Popcorn boxes and cookies littered the floor
now with the glass. Her whole body shook as she emptied the contents of the refrigerator next,
making liquids go everywhere. After another shrill cry, Hermione stumbled in the direction of her
bedroom.

Once she made her destination, clothes were soon strewed about and books were being flung in
every direction. Hermione jerked open her bedside table and found a small folded piece of paper
that brought an abrupt end to her destructing, rage-filled actions. Her shaking hands cautiously
picked up the paper, as if it was a bomb that would detonate at any second. She slowly opened the
worn two pieces of paper to read them again, though she already knew them by heart. Harry had
written the letter to her one night when he couldn’t sleep. It was Hermione’s greatest treasure.
His untidy scrawl was blotched slightly in places, caused from her past tears while reading the
letter, and the creases in the paper had been folded over so many times they threatened to
degenerate at any time. She read it everyday and it gave her hope. Hermione sat down on the floor,
leaning against her bed. After wiping her tear-streaked face, Hermione read what Harry had written
her what seemed liked ages ago.

*Hermione-*

*To you, I am perfect*

*Despite the fact that my imperfections always show.*

*I am not always well-liked, but to you,*

*I am never forgotten.*

*I may want to scream, cry, and just run away,*

*But you always make me forget what’s bothering me*

*And help me through everything.*

*Sometimes, I don’t want to be around anyone*

*But after just one look or touch from you,*

*Once again, I just forget everything else.*

*The effect you have on me scares the bloody hell out of me sometimes.*

*You may be a bit of a bookworm,*

*And not wear flashy clothes.*

*But I wouldn’t like it any other way.*

*You are hopelessly perfect.*

*A jewel to me.*

*If I had to choose between all*

*The riches in the world, make my*

*Burdens go away, have the perfect life*

*With my parents and friends. But in order*

*To get all that, I had to live without you,*

*I wouldn’t-- couldn’t-- change what we have now.*

*For ANYTHING!!!*

*You are my best friend.*

*Yes, even when I’m depressed, angry, or*

*Anything else. I will ALWAYS*

*Love you and hold you close to my heart.*

*Love Always,*

*Harry*

Hermione felt the tears well up again. Her sobs came back at full force. She folded the letter
back up and held in close to her heart as her body shook with pain and anguish. “Harry.” she
croaked miserably. “Please come back. Please come back to me.”

“H-Har-HARRY!” Hermione screamed hopelessly. She began to hiccup as the tears splashed onto the
note. Hermione tried to calm herself, and finally began to even her breathing. “Damn you, Harry.”
She whispered over and over. “Damn you for leaving me. Damn you.” She knew it wasn’t Harry’s fault.
She knew that if Harry had it his way, he would be right here with her. But she couldn’t help it.
She felt pain and needed to blame someone at the time being. She was coming apart at all ends.

How much longer could she do this? How long had he been gone? How long had it been since he was
taken away?

*Hermione giggled as Harry continued to blow raspberries on her stomach. “Harry, that
tickles!” Hermione said through her laughter. Harry just grinned and stuck his head under her shirt
again, blowing another raspberry. Hermione erupted in laughter again. Harry popped his head out
from under her shirt and brought his lips to hers. Hermione gave a soft moan in his mouth and
ginned. Harry laughed softly in her ear, causing Hermione to shiver as pleasure shook through her
body. She pulled Harry on top of her by his belt loops, all the while giggling as Harry kissed her
neck playfully, telling her how much he loved kissing her.*

*“And there, and there, and I love kissing you here, and right here, and-” he flick his tongue
out at a specific spot at the base of her neck, creating a moan to escape from the back of her
throat. “I love that spot particularly.” Hermione could feel his lips on her skin. She brought her
hands up to rake through his black hair, making him shiver in delight.*

*Harry pulled back from her skin and look into her eyes, causing Hermione to grin at him. He
slid off of her and laid down on his side, propped up on his elbow so he could see her properly.
His grin was mischievous and loving. He let one hand slowly slide under her shirt and to the soft
skin of her stomach. His hand continued to travel upwards, grinning at Hermione the entire time
until finally, he cupped one of her breasts through her cotton bra. He didn’t move, he just sat
there, his hand just resting on her right breast.*

*Hermione rolled her eyes. “You are such a tease, Potter!” she cried while quickly crawling on
top of him. His hands now placed themselves on her hips.*

*“Am not!” He said mock defensively, causing Hermione to laugh.*

*“Are too, but I still love you!” She fired back.*

*Harry laughed and brought her down for a kiss before burring his head into her neck, simply
inhaling her scent. “If you say so.”*

*“Well, I do say-”*

*A sudden knock on their front door caused them to stop. They both looked at each other,
neither of them were expecting any guests. They shrugged, and Hermione got off Harry and stood
before helping Harry stand from his spot on the living room floor. The two of them quickly made
their way to the door.*

*Harry opened the door to see a few business-like looking men standing outside. “Hello, may we
help you?” he asked innocently.*

*The taller looking man revealed his Ministry of Magic badge, the letter M and M interlocked
with each other and a wand slicing through them, and said, “Hello, we’re from the Ministry and here
on business. May we come in?”*

*Harry nodded and led them into the living room where just a minute ago, Harry and Hermione
were laughing and giggling on the floor.*

*“I’ll make some tea.” Hermione said, starting for the kitchen,*

*“That won’t be necessary. Our business is short and to the point.” One of the men said,
causing Hermione turn back around and stand beside Harry.*

*“What is it that you want, then?” Hermione asked, but saw that the men were looking at
Harry.*

*“Mr. Potter, we are here on strict orders from the Minister himself. We are afraid that you
have to come with us.”*

*“Why?” Harry questioned, looking at the men as if they were insane.*

*“Due to your condition, you are to be detained for an unknown amount of time-”*

*Harry cut them off, “What do you mean ‘detained’?” he asked angrily, his hands going to his
hips.*

*“Mr. Potter, you are to come with us-”*

*Hermione cut in, “Like hell he will. What is this all about? He doesn’t have a ‘condition’!”
Hermione said shrilly.*

*“Miss, this business doesn’t concern you, it’s about-”*

*“Harry is my best friend, you better bet you ass it concerns me. You aren’t taking him
anywhere, Ministry order or not!” Hermione replied, anger in her every word.*

*The two wizards looked at each other before nodding. They both took out their wands. Harry
and Hermione’s wands were in their rooms. They both starred at the men, now slightly
fearful.*

*Suddenly, both wands shot out of the men’s hands due to Harry’s wandless magic.*

*“I’m not going anywhere,” he said, his voice low and dangerous.*

*“We’re afraid you are, Mr. Potter,” and suddenly, one of the men threw what looked liked dust
at Harry, causing him to cough violently and pass out. Hermione screamed and caught him before he
fell.*

*“WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM, YOU BASTARD?!?!” she yelled, tears coming to her eyes.*

*“He’s asleep. He’ll be up in a few hours. Right now, we need to take him.”*

*Tears started down her cheeks as she violently tried to fight the men off, but they
overpowered her quickly. The taller man retrieved their wands and aimed his at Hermione, who was
still struggling. “He’s dangerous and needs to be detained, do you not see that?” He asked her
angrily. Hermione tried to bite the man holding her, causing the taller man to slap her. “You
little bitch. How dare you? Do you know who we are?”*

*Hermione seethed with anger. “You’re bastards! Leave him alone!”*

*The men laughed. Before Hermione could say another word, she was hit with a sleeping spell.
When she woke up hours later, the flat was empty and Harry was gone. Hermione rushed to the
Ministry, but it was no use. They told her Harry was to be detained until further notice. No
visitors, no contact at all.*

Hermione cried herself to sleep that night and almost every night since. A few days later she
had been informed that he would be staying in a mental institution until further notice. Hermione
was a mess for weeks. She appealed his case over and over, trying to reason with them, but to no
avail. They ignored her. They ignored anyone that tried to appeal his case.

Hermione felt fresh pain as she remembered the entire ordeal. The sleepless nights. The
loneliness. The fact that Harry was in that *place*. Everything. Hermione told Ron she was
going to move out and find a place of her own for the time being, that she just wanted to be alone,
but Ron would have none of it. Instead, he told her *he* would move out and share a flat with
Draco, leaving Hermione her needed space. Things have been a mess ever since.

Rustling through the drawer some more, Hermione came across her notebook and felt a terrible
pang in her heart as she flipped it to the second page. She knew the poem. She had written in just
a few weeks ago. She didn’t need to look at the words to know what they said, to know how they
don’t do her feeling justice in the least.

The piercing took me by surprise

I felt confusion clog my senses

What was happening?

Was this all real?

The wound was sore at first

A mere dull ache that throbbed constantly

What was happening?

Was this all real?

Days turned into weeks

My wound became infected

What was happening?

Was this all real?

I still remember the day

The blood began to seep

What was happening?

Was this all real?

A week later, thick red liquid

Began to trail down my heart

What was happening?

Was this all real?

My pearl-white wings were stained scarlet

As the silver dagger began to twist painfully

What was happening?

Was this all real?

I felt the cold sweep over

As Darkness overpowered

What was happening?

Was this all real?

You were snatched away

It was unfairly done

What was happening?

Was this all real?

I don’t know when you’ll get back

But I know I’ll bleed freely until you return

What was happening?

Was this all real?

I’ll clean my wound with salt

Just so I never forget you

What was happening?

Was this all real?

Then when you come back

My wound will be just another scar

What was happening?

Was this all real?

Until then, I’ll be content

With blood-stained wings

And a fresh wound

As the dagger plunges a little deeper everyday

Is this happening?

Is this all real?

She reread the last few lines of her poem over and over. She had drawn a picture of what she was
feeling, and this poem had been inspired by it. It was the only way Hermione knew how to release
her pain. She couldn’t talk to anyone, she wasn’t the type that tried to burden others with her
problems. They were hurting enough already.

Hermione tried to stand, but felt too weak and dropped back to the ground. The folded letter and
poem were still clutched in her hands. After failing another attempt to stand, Hermione gave up.
Instead, she just laid her head back on her bed and cried. Cried for Harry. Cried for Ron and Luna.
For Draco and Ginny. The rest of the Weasleys. She cried for herself. She cried when she thought
she didn’t even have any more tears left to shed.

She was pierced. Her wound wouldn’t heal until he came back.

Tomorrow, things won’t be any different. She’ll wake up and realize what a mess she made. Her
broken heart with shatter again when she sees she had destroyed Harry’s perfect room in a fit of
anger. She’ll spend the day cleaning up, probably the Muggle way, just to keep her mind off things.
The pain from the broken glass in her feet will set in, taking her mind off her emotional pain for
a few minutes. Ron or Draco might stop by, worried about her. They’ll be surprised at the
disastrous flat. They won’t understand. No one would. Tomorrow might be a better day. It might even
be a tolerable day. But today wasn’t. No, she just had a bad day again. Nothing new, she was used
to it.

She had a bad day again.

**She said I would not understand
She left a note and said I'm sorry I
I had a bad day again
Nooo...

And she swears there's nothing wrong
I hear her playing that same old song
She puts me up and puts me on
Oh I had a bad day again

She said I would not understand
She left a note that said I'm sorry, I
I had a bad day again
She left a note that said I'm sorry, I
I had a bad day**

**“Bad Day” FUEL**

So what did you guys all think? PLEASE tell me what you think, it was something that was really
hard for me to write. Also, any guesses on what Fuel song the next chapter is going to one? The
next chapter will be from Harry’s point of view, dealing with where he is and how he’s dealing from
RMI. So, review and tell me what you think! Also, a quick note to my readers from The Potter Vs.
Granger Rivalry: I have been trying to come up with the next chapter, I’ve been brainstorming a lot
while I was working on the roof with my dad and got a few things planned. I hope to start on the
next chapter within a few days!

Stay Righteous!

*~Archie~*



