The Implications of Forever

Perpendere

-"Now!" Draco demanded. "Within the hour."

The nurses dispersed within seconds. Two entered Luna's office, quickly aiming their wands towards Hermione. She recoiled, backing up as far as possible to escape their reach.

Stop, please stop. Let me leave, leave me alone. She pled silently. Don't send me with him. Don't listen to him. He's a liar.

"Miss Granger–" The one named Argent called, inching closer. His eyes were kind, and Hermione pitied him–taking orders from a tyrant boss, reprimanded for doing the job he was instructed to do. She was torn between resenting Harry for sending her to this Mind Ward and wanting to hex Draco for his savior complex. She couldn't understand his motives–did he truly want to save her? Did he care? Or was her presence in the ward he owned perilous. She could show the world what he'd done–ruin his reputation. She hoped, deep in her soul, that his orders would lead to her escape–that he could save her. But he didn't come for her, he came for therapy.

The nurses inched closer, hesitantly, as if afraid of what Hermione could do. Nurse Sansa had said they feared she would hurt herself, but she wondered if the other nurses feared what she could do to them. Was her own reputation tarnished? Passed out for two days in a drunken stupor, limping through the halls of a psych ward. Did they believe she belonged here? Did Harry?

Did Draco?

"Don't touch me!" Hermione shouted once the nurses grew too close. She lurched out of the seat to limp the distance to the corner of the room, where she cowered and damned herself for her fear. She was powerless, wandless, defenseless–she found none of the war hero spark left within her, just an empty shell. Her legs trembled too intensely to carry her very far. She knew escape was hopeless, but every atom in her body told her to try.

If she had the ability to use a wand, she would jinx them all. Yes, maybe they were right; she would hurt someone right now. She'd hurt them all. If it meant she could break free, disarm anyone who dared to stop her, find the nearest pub and down every pint of liquor in the building, she would do anything. She would kill for a drink now. She would kill to be left alone.

"Just leave me alone!" She shouted, watching wearily as the nurses continued to advance towards her–big, ominous bodies looming over her now weak frame, leaning on the wall for support.

"Granger." Draco broke Hermione's concentration. She found him with her eyes, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed and his lips pressed into a thin line. He looked calm, almost. Composed, even. Fitting. She thought. He was always at peace, wasn't he? He was always whole while she fell apart in silence.

"Fuck you, Draco." She snorted. No, she would not be silent now. She would be heard, even if captivity was inevitable.

"You're not leaving this place until you're assessed, Granger. Don't be irrational." Draco advised. Hermione glared in his direction.

The nurses took a step forward, and Hermione took a step back. They were nearly dancing around Luna's chair now. Luna sat calmly, spectating as if she were watching a television show. " Leave me alone ." Hermione repeated.

"Granger, it would be in your best interest to give up."

"You're laughing right now?" Hermione snapped.

"Where do you think you're going to go?" Draco shook his head. "You can barely walk, Granger. Let us help you."

"You're not interested in helping me." Hermione dodged another nurse and howled at the pain in her calves. She was close to collapsing any second, she knew at some point in the near future, there would be no hope in freeing herself.