Visit 3
It’s rainy again today, just like yesterday. I liked the sunny weather last week, it felt easier to air out my issues when it was at least pretty outside.
“Are you ready to begin?”
“Yeah,” I nod.
“You seem tired today. Has this week been difficult?”
“I chose to go on a sabbatical. I don’t really think I need it, but until he is out of there, I don’t want to go back.”
“He?”
“Ron.”
“I understand. I know we said that we would start with the nightmares today, but I also want to touch on the ‘him’ subject as well. I don’t want to push, but that does seem to be a root issue right now.”
“I understand,” I take a deep breath, opening my notebook to the nightmare page, “They are all usually the same, more or less. It’s at the Battle, after Hagrid carries Harry back, only he isn’t alive. We’re stuck there all watching as Voldemort cheers and rallies the Death Eaters. They all begin turning towards us, taunting and cheering about how Harry is dead. Bellatrix is the worst, that laugh is just ear piercing.”
“What happens next?”
“They come after us while we flee into the castle. All of us got separated, so I went to the library of all places. I hid in the Restricted Section, blockaded the door, but it didn’t matter. She finds me no matter where I run in the Castle.”
“Bellatrix?”
“Yes,” deep breath, “Everytime, it’s always her. It’s probably because of the Manor. She’s dead. I watched her die, but even in death she haunts my nightmares.”
“The Manor?”
“When we were on the run, during the war.”
Cold marble.
Death.
Blood.
Sulfur.
“We got caught by some snatchers, they took us to Malfoy Manor. Tried to turn us over to Voldemort.”
“And Bellatrix was there?”
“Yes,” breath, breath, “She questioned me. She said she wanted to have a conversation, girl to girl.”
“And how did that go?”
“It wasn’t much of a chat. More of her kneeling on my chest while she stuck a knife in my arm. It was cursed so that it could never heal. Malfoy sat there and watched. I tried to ask him for help, tried to reach for him. Even if he hated me in school, surely he couldn’t watch me die, right? But alas, he stood there, stone faced.”
“There was a bit in the file about him,” he pulled a manilla folder off the table beside him, “During the trial, he told the court that he would’ve been killed if he intervened. He decided to occlude?”
“Occluding is a form of magic where you use the magic to protect or lock away certain memories. There’s another form of magic, legilimency, that allows someone to look in another person's mind. The two are natural opposites.”
“So he actively blocked out what was happening to you, a natural sign of remorse.”
“Still, neither him nor his mother would even look at me.”
“You said so yourself, everything they did was for their own protection, self-preservation.”
“I know, but I can still be mad about it.”
“And all your feelings are valid, but contradicting yourself isn’t fair for them.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I feel so tired going over everything all the time, “I just get so tired. Everyone expects me to be so perfect all the time. Make all the right choices, be nice to the right people.”
“Do you feel like you aren’t making the right choices?”
“I know I’m making the best decisions I can but that doesn’t mean that they are right.”
“Then that’s all anyone should ask of you. You are making the best choices you can with what you have, there’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Right.”
“Who makes you feel like your decisions aren’t right?”
“Everyone,” collecting my thoughts, “Everyone always has an opinion, just some are worse than others. When certain people constantly question my every move it's hard to know if I’m really making the best choice. The Minister wants me to keep everyone happy, reintroduce those who served their time for smaller crimes, and overall be the Golden Girl. People I thought were my friends say that’s the wrong choice and that they don’t deserve forgiveness. The papers call me a traitor and a snake. My parents don’t remember me so they’re off in Australia living their original dreams without me. Every one of my choices has consequences but no one is happy.”
“Are you happy with your choices?”
“Not entirely. They were the right choices, but I wish I had done more.”
“For who?”
“For them. They were just kids. We fought a war.”
“You did. I think it’s time that you tell them that, not me. When you’re ready I think it’s time for you to really dive into mending communications.”
“I don’t think they want to hear from me.”
“Then we will draft a letter together, I will send it and it’s no longer in your hands. If they respond, I’ll let you know, if they don’t then it’s over. You’ve done your piece.”
“Okay.”
I take the pen, hand trembling. Would they even receive a muggle post? Probably not, but that would make it easier right?
Malfoy, Nott, Parkinson, Zabini, amd Goyle,
To whom it may concern, I wanted to reach out to see if we could all have tea at my flat. Each of you are welcome to bring your respected partners or not. I just feel that there are some unresolved things from recent events that we can discuss openly in a private setting.
Granger
“That’s good, Hermione. I’ll get it sent out as soon as our session is finished. Are you ready for our weekly review questions?”
“Yes.”
“Any attacks this week related to anxiety?”
“Yes, one.”
“Please elaborate when you’re ready.”
“First day of my sabbatical on Monday morning. I dropped a glass and it jumped me into a flashback from the Department of Mysteries when Voldemort broke all the windows and blasted the shards towards us.”
“What techniques worked to ground you?”
“I used the breathing technique of five seconds in, seven seconds out. Then, I used the 5-4-3-2-1 method to reacquaint myself with my surroundings.”
“Good, and those worked well for you?”
“Yes.”
“Perfect. Any nightmares or other flashbacks?”
“No.”
“Good,” he adjusted his glasses, “Any thoughts of self-harm or suicide?”
“No, the sabbatical has helped with that. The only issue is when I’m completely alone. It’s hard to not think about my patients or some of my friends.”
“When you are alone, what do you do to help curb those feelings?”
“I read or fill my time with small hobbies that allow me to breathe. Lately it’s been baking.”
“That’s good. This is some good progress from last week.”
“Good.”
“For next week, I want you to prepare a small list for me. We’ve discussed a lot of forgiveness, but I think it’s time that we make a list of people you don’t forgive. I want you to make a list of things that you believe are unforgivable that have happened to you or people around you. Forgetting is sometimes harder than forgiving, but knowing those people can’t touch you anymore can help you to be a bit more forgetful.”
“Okay. Have a good week Dr. Stone.”
“You too, Hermione. See you next Thursday.”