To live past 19 #The2017Awards

Setting her sun

The door to the house closes softly after they walked through. Hermione sends her parents a strained smile before she turns her back to their worried gazes.
Unable to watch their pity and sorrow leak from their eyes.
She can feel it burning her back as she tries to escape as dignified as she could.
She didn't want them to worry about her. That's all they ever seemed to do. Worried about her being a witch, what Hogwarts was and all the other thing which had happened in the past years. The worst part is that she hadn't even told her parents of the worst. These were all minor and harmless details which they shouldn't even worry about. Of course she had told them of the war, but never in detail and that she was right in the middle of it all. Though she knew in general that they were happy that she had found something which drove her. Speaking of Hogwarts and her friends constantly showed them how happy she was and that's all they wanted in the end.

The ascending of the stairs is far to slow for her but she didn't want it to look rushed. Make seem as if she was hurrying to get to the safety of sanctuary. A place where she could cry without being seen. She had just got them back. She didn't want to increase their worry for her even further. She didn't want them to ever have to worry about her again and when the war finally ended she though they could be back to normal. Not always having the constant though of death looming behind one ready to strike with the sword.
But ever since she got her Hogwarts letter nothing has ever been normal and it never will be.
Hermione grits her teeth and subconsciously grinds it. She should have never come looking for them, she hisses to herself. Taking deep breaths though her nostrils while violently throwing her door open and then slamming it shut again. Though instantly regretting it, but the emotion disappears quickly. Her parents were fine without her, happy and already living a new and peaceful life. As much as she wanted to regret going back for them, she couldn't. Because she knew she needed them to get through this. Or at least until it was over.
Hermione blankly stares at her room. Taking in the newly hung photographs and paintings, on her white walls, of her friends and her parent and herself in some of them.
Her books stacked in a corner next to her desk. Her eyes dart to the window and back to her desk. The sun was setting, the light peaking through the leaves and branches blocking her view of the garden. Her eyes didn't linger like they usually would, admiring the dance of light in her bedroom.
The wizard newspaper stood out more than it ever did before. The headlines written in bold front; WE WON
Yes, we did win, Hermione can't help but hate it. They won, but did she? After what had happened only hours previous, she doesn't think she ever did win. What does it mean to win anyway? Win one battle only to line up for another?
Her eyes sting and her breathing becomes ragged. Choking on her breath Hermione tries to keep quiet, but she doesn't want to. She's had it with keeping her mouth shut. It seems to her as if that was all she had been doing.
She screams as she kicks her wooden cupboard. But one scream isn't enough for her. She throws books and other objects across the room and agains the walls. Her crying turns into a hyperventilate-crying. All rationality leaves her and instead she is filled with rage and hate. The emotions that had been buried so long ago where now finally free and she showed it in any way she could. Throwing objects around, never fully satisfied when they didn't make enough damage. Finally exhaustion takes over.
Slumping against the walls, where her scattered pictures lay, she slides down.
Breathing hard, Hermione can't get rid of the rage still boiling within her, but exhaustion was the dominant feeling for now. Hindering her form throwing another temper tantrum. She doesn't see the destroyed room before her, nor the joyful pictures of her friends at her feet. She doesn't see her past and let alone her future.
But only what the doctor had said to her and her parents only hours prior.

'She has cancer.' He said to her parents, not her. As if she wasn't there. 'It would be a miracle if she made it past 19.'

Hermione leans her head against the wall. Closing her eyes as the sun sets further.

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This is just a little insight.

If any of your are battling cancer or have had experience or contact with it, my heart goes out to all of you. ❤️❤️❤️