Visit 2
Back on the soft couch, surrounded by beige walls, I sit with my journal on my lap. The sun is shining today, a good omen.
“Welcome back, Hermione. How are you feeling today?”
“I’m good,” I opened the notebook, “I think I want to start with some of second year.”
“That sounds wonderful. The year with the Chamber of Secrets, correct?”
“Yes,” I take in a large breath, “The Chamber was built by Salazar Slytherin when the school was built. He had very skewed views of who should and shouldn’t attend the school. When he left the other founders, he said his heir would open the Chamber some day to rid the school of its impurity. He meant that the monster hidden within the Chamber would kill all the mudbloods.”
“People of human birth, muggles.”
“Yes, like me.”
“How did that make you feel once it was opened?”
“I was horrified,” tears pricked my eyes instantly, “I truly thought that there was a chance that I would die. And then I was petrified but I could still hear. It was like my whole body was paralyzed but I could still listen to everyone around me. Harry, Ron, the professors, even the Slytherins.”
“So you were stuck having to hear but could do nothing?”
“Exactly! I was just stuck in Limbo.”
“What things did you hear that troubled you?”
“I would hear the professors talking about the dangers and they even considered sending students home. That was my biggest fear. Then I wouldn’t be able to hear anyone, I’d be stuck in silence,” I catch my breath, a tear rolling down my left cheek, “Then there were the Slytherins, mainly Malfoy.”
“And what did he say to you?”
“It wasn’t to me, but when Harry and Ron snuck into the Slytherin common room he said that I should be the first mudblood to die.”
“As you discussed last visit,” Dr. Stone clears his throat, “You’ve forgiven them because they were children that played a role of self-preservation to appease their parents. Does that forgiveness extend to the conversations he had during your second year?”
“Yes and no,” wiping the tears off my cheeks, I regained a tiny bit of composure but not much.
“Elaborate please.”
“I believe that he was a child that had been engrained with his parent’s ideologies. Therefore, I can’t completely blame him for what he said, but an apology wouldn’t have hurt so bad.”
“You seek affirmations for your forgiveness. You want to know that it wasn’t in vain.”
“Yes.”
“Have you considered reaching out to any of these people from your past life in order to not only forgive them, but also reintroduce yourself to them? They all were reported to have had a course that helped them to assimilate into the new post-war world.”
“It has been considered.”
“But not approached?”
“No,” I shake my head, “I’m not ready.”
“Fair enough,” he nodded, “Let’s move into the very beginning of the war then. Before the murder of your headmaster. Maybe the Department of Mysteries? You had quite a significant role in that.”
“I did. Dumbledore’s Army fought several Death Eaters there. We all lost something that day. I lost a surrogate uncle, Harry lost his godfather, Neville faced one of his worst nightmares. It was a hard night.”
“Let’s focus on your relationship with Sirius. He was like an uncle to you but you had known each other just shy of two years. Let’s focus on some positives first. What was he like?”
“Sirius was such a good person. He always had something to say that would make the room laugh. Him and Harry were similar in that aspect. He always found a way to light up a room no matter what was going on inside his head. He had a great heart,” I let out a small sob, “All I know is, when that curse hit him a star left the sky.”
“He was from the House of Black,” Dr. Stone flipped through his notes, “They have quite a vast family tree.”
“Yes, they do.”
“That family tree also includes Bellatrix, Draco, Narcissa, Andromeda, and Regulus.”
“Yes.”
“And several of these people fought opposite you?”
“Yes.”
“What do you feel was the difference between Sirius and the others?”
“Sirius was sorted into Gryffindor, he wasn’t constantly surrounded by the blood purity nonsense unless he was at home, making it easier for him to separate himself from it. Regulus loved his brother, that’s why he defected. Bellatrix is the textbook definition of a sociopath, everything she does is for her best interest. Narcissa did everything for Draco, nothing was in her own interest but for him.”
“When was the last real time you saw everyone?”
“The incident.”
“At the anniversary, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Are you ready to touch on that, or should we divert to something else for now?”
“Next time,” flashes of Ron’s eyes filled with tears appear in my mind. His yelling fills my ears.
“It’s all your fault, you know. The anniversary is not the day to go off the fucking rails you dumb bitch! If you had just stopped worrying about yourself we wouldn’t look like fools. We’re supposed to be the fucking heroes today. But no. Hermione fucking Granger had to open her big mouth and make it about change, making a difference, about herself. People died, Hermione. They bloody died. We’re here to focus on that not your fucking change.”
“That isn’t what I meant and you know it. We were given a job to do after the war. To reintroduce them to the wizarding community. They were children too, Ronald!”
“They were murderers, fucking killers! And you defend them?”
“They did their time.”
“Not enough of it,” he scoffed, “They deserved death.”
“You’re being ignorant.”
“No. I am being honest. Just because you have forgiven them doesn’t mean the rest of the world has too.”
“I’m going back to the celebration of life.”
“No you aren’t,” his calloused hand wrapped around my arm, “You’re not going back. We’re going home.”
“Let go of me.”
“I said we’re going home,” he pulled me towards the doors. No one could see me. No one can hear me. We’re alone.
“I said let go!”
My magic flew from my body so quickly, it leapt straight from my chest. Ron’s body flew into a wall, his grunt being the only sound.
“I said let go,” I whispered, slowly collapsing to the floor.
“Granger?” The voice was familiar but distant.
Then everything went black.
“Hermione? Are you with me?”
“I’m here,” my head snaps up quickly, “What was your question?”
“The incident, are you ready?”
“No.”
“Alright, we have about ten minutes left. How about we do your week check in.”
“Okay.”
“Have you experienced any attacks this week anxiety wise?”
“No.”
“Any nightmares? If so, please elaborate.”
“Yes, the Battle.”
“We will focus on that at the start of next week, please prepare for that in your journal.”
“Okay,” I scribbled that down.
“Last one, any negative thoughts of suicide or self harm?”
“Yes.”
“In relation to?”
“I saw Ron. He is still in the ward at St. Mungo’s where I work. It’s hard to see him there.”
“Were the thoughts specific to suicide or self harm?”
“Self harm. It’s my fault he’s there.”
“First and foremost, you were protecting yourself. There is nothing wrong with your body’s natural defense system even if it is different from mine as a muggle. Do you feel as if you are a risk to yourself or others?”
“No, I’m okay. Really, it was just a moment but I’m trying to be completely open and honest.”
“I appreciate that, Hermione. It's most beneficial when you’re open. That’s the end of today’s session. Go home and get some rest. I’ll see you next week.”