Scars

two

Hermione sat at the dining table, unable to eat or drink, her eyes fixated on a three separate envelopes she had received that morning. She could differentiate which was sent by whom without reading the names; she knew the handwritings all too well to require anymore confirmation. Her eyes skimmed over the names once more, Ron's, Harry's and Ginny's, all scribbled in thick ink over the thin pieces of parchments. Hermione wondered why all three of them had decided to write all at once, she wondered if they were okay and if all was well. Her mind was so wrecked with worry and panic, only thinking of the worst that she couldn't bring herself to open the envelopes. Instead, she looked around and tried keeping her eyes from landing on the envelopes sitting beside her breakfast plate, that too untouched.

As her eyes watched over all the new faces that surrounded her, she was briefly distracted by the hustle and bustle around her. She saw tiny eleven year old heads bent over their books and homework, swiftly stuffing food in their mouths so they wouldn't be late for classes. She saw year four and five students ogling a young boy whom they thought was very handsome and a complete catch, she could see so many groups of friends just laughing really loudly and joking around one another, and for a brief moment, she could make herself believe that all was alright. That the past year and a half hadn't happened at all, that it was all just a terrible nightmare shed had, and if she closed her eyes she and concentrated very hard on the laughter and vibrancy around her, she could almost, almost imagine she was here with Ron and harry, and all those familiar faces she knew could never see again were still here with her having a laugh. But just like that, the spell was broken, and she could no longer hear the laughter anymore; instead her mind replayed again and again the monsters she had to face, the demons crawled out and shut the blinds, and once more her mind was a deep sea of dark thoughts, thoughts that would drive her to insanity if she didn't block them out...

"Miss Granger, are you alright?" Hermione was shaken out of her thoughts with the all too familiar voice of her the Headmistress, her slender fingers resting on Hermione's shoulder, her grim warm and welcoming. Hermione pushed her thoughts away and tried to put up a smile for her favourite Professor.

"Yes, yes Professor, how could you ever think otherwise?" she smiled wide as she looked into the warm, kind eyes of the old Professor. She knew she couldn't hide her thoughts from her, Professor knew her all too well. Professor McGonagall faltered for a bit, but then returned the smile. That smile was enough to make Hermione feel better, or she knew the professor understood her perfectly, and she was one whose loss was far greater than hers; for she had lost more young pupils and colleagues than she had lost friends and companions.

"I would never, Miss Granger. You seemed a bit down, I was only here to check on you. If you ever need me, you know where to find me," she smiled with her knowing eyes, though for the briefest of moments she felt them shift slightly towards the bandage on her left hand. "I'm proud of you, young lady, be strong," she said and left with a pat on her back.

Hermione smiled, and tried not to think of her shifty eyes, because she realized no matter how much she had lost, no matter how hard her mind tried to convince her that all was not well and the damage could not be fixed, a distant and lost part of her heart knew she was wrong, and that she was never quite alone. She had friends who had written to her, she had such loving and caring professors, the only issue was herself. Somewhere, somehow, sometime during and after the war, she had lost her sense of purpose, her sense of morality and ethics, and somewhere deep in her heart, buried underneath all the fear and turmoil was the bravery for which she was recognized. If only, she could reach into herself and bring it back once more, all the turmoil will be over and shed be free of the unyielding chains of her past. If only it were that easy, if only. But after one glance at Professor McGonagall, she knew it was not impossible. She knew she could make through and she knew she was not alone. For the first time in what seemed like forever, she knew she was capable of freedom. Though currently far from it, Hermione saw clearly in her head the path in her head, the road down recovery, and she smiled. She knew she could accomplish it.