Fait à la Perfection

38

Hermione cut the parsley angrily. Her knife clashed against the board repeatedly. She would regret it later but right now she was pissed off.

"Granger."

"Go away," she ordered as she put the seasoning into the browning butter. She began cutting the garlic and adding it as well.

"Granger—"

"I said go away." She irked.

"Hermione—Hermione, stop," Draco ordered softly. He reached for her but she shoved him off.

"I can't stop, I stop and remember everything I lost, I lost my kids Draco, all I ever wanted was to be a mother, why can't I be a mother?" She cried. She let out a cry of pain as she held her bleeding hand; she swore loudly and grabbed the towel before wrapping her hand.

Draco reached for her but she shoved him back. She tried to do it again but he kept coming back. The tears began to stream as he pulled her into his chest and she wept. He held her close while she cried.

She was having a manic episode and even thought she knew better. She couldn't stop it.

"You are a mother," he whispered, "you are a mother..."

She held him closely. Not wanting to let him go lest she lost him to.

"Why do I have to lose everything?" She cried.

"You're not going to lose me, you'll never lose me...and we'll figure it out...we'll get out children back...I promise..."

She wept softly as he cupped her cheeks. Hermione's cries were bitter as she held onto him.

"Have you talked to Alan?"

Hermione shook her head.

"I'm going to call him."

"Draco—"

"You need to talk to him, Hermione, for your health, you have to talk to him."

Hermione wrapped her arms around her skinny body as he dialled Alan's phone. He talked but she couldn't hear him. When she finally came too; he led her into the car and drove. They both drove in silence.

He had a hand on her thigh and Hermione looked at him. He stilled looked sad but he looked better than her.

She slowly looked out the window and subtly tried to wipe away a tear.

And that's how she ended up sitting on the chair in Alan's office.

"I...uh...I lost," Hermione whispered tearfully, "they took my children."

She pressed the corner of her eyes. Trying to keep the tears a bay."

"How are you Hermione?" Alan asked.

"A wreck," she sobbed softly, "I...I let people in...I envisioned a happily ever after for me and...maybe I don't deserve it, maybe I'm supposed to have the same fate as my father..."

"Hermione—"

"It's been three weeks and I'm still feeling like I'm dying!" She snapped, "I have this unbearable pain in my chest. I can't breathe, I can't sleep, I can't even be there for Draco who is just as broken as I am! I try but I just feel like a hypocrite."

Alan took her hands.

"Hermione are you thinking of hurting yourself?" He asked sternly.

Hermione looked down ashamed.

"Hermione?"

She sniffed and slowly rolled up her sleeves, three fresh cuts joined faded scars. She looked away from Alan before another sob broke out.