A/N: This work contains mature content (i.e. violence, trauma, mental illness, sexual content, language). I strongly advise that anyone who reads this take these things into consideration. I will do my upmost to ensure proper warnings before any chapter that involves these things. (Rated 'M' for a reason!) I also own nothing, this world and its characters are Rowling's. I'm just having fun :)
WARNING! This chapter includes themes of torture and violence.
Chapter One:
What's Easier Isn't Always Best
The floor is hard and cold… so, so cold. Something warm seeps into my side. I try to curl towards the warmth, but my body won't cooperate. My limbs feel heavy, but no matter the lethargy my eyes stay open. There is dust floating in front of me, spinning through the air. Funny, I think, I didn't notice any windows in here.
A roaring engulfs me. I curve inward, racing to escape the flames. The world is vibrating, Why won't it stop? A thud jars me from the thought. A new ache compounds the old on the back of my skull. My head… The dust swirls as if aggravated by my disturbance. Metal, why do I smell metal?
A roar again. The warmth is back, but different, this time coating the back of my legs. The smell of urine engulfs me. A light humming, followed by a noise that chills my spine. A lower humming… disgust.
The dust moves. A dark form parts them, close to me now. A flash of silver. Keys…like the flying ones, maybe. Flash. Humming. That noise again.
Something stretches my arm away from my body. Cold… I try to curl it back to my side but a force won't let me. Magic…
Burning. BURNING. Without warning the room snaps into semi-focus. That roaring — I'm screaming?
Pain. Pain. Pain. So much pain. Hair. Black. Curly. That noise! Voices break through.
I whimper from the hurt and overwhelming sensory.
"Where is it?" More pain… my arm.
She laughs. That damn noise. It grates against every nerve and rubs each raw. She wants… ugh, what does she want?
Another form, taller. His head is like a lightbulb… or is that his hair?
"You're going to break her beyond usefulness, Bellatrix." She turned to the drawling voice. Is he really bored? How quaint…
"Mudbloods aren't useful. In fact, I'm just reminding her of that."
Her bony hand grips my chin and forces my face to look into hers. Her teeth — she really needs a dentist.
"All you're good for is marking."
Flash. Sharp. Muted humming, "…filthy mudblood." The dust dances.
That fucking laugh! "There. Now you'll never forget." More warmth, more metal.
I don't look at her. She growls and bares her teeth. "You should appreciate your gift!" A stick? No, no, a wand!
"CRUCIO!"
I wake up screaming and thrashing. I panic when warm arms encircle me, pulling me back. I grip the sheets and pull, willing that whatever is holding me will let go.
"Shh, 'Mione, it's me. It's Ron." I collapse and cry. "I'm here, honey." He continues to murmur in my ear. My crying slows eventually.
He strokes my hair and pulls me to lay down beside him again. "She can't get you. She's gone."
I hiccup against his chest. He gently runs a finger along the scar on my arm. Mudblood. Her laugh echoes in my head and I feel my body rattle against his. Ron grabs his wand from the nightstand and refreshes the glamour that normally hides the puckered marks. I kiss his neck, grateful. He holds me closer and sighs deeply.
"Should I see if I can move the appointment with Tenbis a bit earlier?"
I nod. He stares up at the ceiling, lost in thought while habitually rubbing my lower back in small circles. His hair is limp, barely curling at the ends like it used to. His eyes are darker than normal. This isn't easy for him, either.
"Get some sleep, 'Mione. We'll replenish our sleeping draughts tomorrow after our session." I almost miss him whisper, "All I dream is horror too."
I push myself up onto my elbow and cup his cheek in my hand. "You still see them?" His stubble scrapes my hand as he nods.
"I never get there fast enough to save them."
I open my mouth to comfort him, but his eyes flash as he sets his jaw. "We should sleep while we can."
I accept that he can't talk about this now. I curl up into his side, my fingers splayed across his bare chest. Neither one of us sleep, nor stop pretending to. His thumb rubs along my spine, achingly slow. His breathing becomes relaxed, measured, calculated. Mine follows suit. I listen to his heart pound away under my ear. It's steady, consistent, rushed. I let go of a measured sigh. It's easier this way.
Ron moves first, gently moving out from under me and stretching slowly as he makes his way to the bathroom. The light comes on as the door clicks shut. I roll to my back and stare out the window. The leaves are turning. I need to break out our winter robes.
I pull myself from the bed with effort. I pull on the first robes I touch and throw my hair up with deft movements. A curl or two escapes to tickle my chin and my neck. I leave them – who am I trying to impress? The therapist?
I put on tea, idly flipping through the paper. Ron finds me there on the couch. He gives me a soft kiss on the cheek before getting his own cup and settling down in his chair next to the fireplace. We thumb our respective papers, neither of us absorbing a single black word. We don't speak, rather, we enjoy our drinks and silence. It's easier this way.
Tenbis stares down her glasses at us. "Are the draughts helping?"
I shrug. "Sometimes. Sometimes it just keeps me asleep to endure the nightmare rather than letting me wake up and end it."
Ron nods mutely. Tenbis stares still.
"I'll have to adjust them then. I'll speak to the Potions Director, he might think of something."
I pull at the skin around my nails. Ron flicks imaginary dirt off his knee. Tenbis stares.
"Do you talk to each other?"
Ron snorts. "No, we just live together and never speak."
I roll my eyes. "Ron, please." He looks away. Tenbis stares.
She shuffles papers on her desk. "I don't see how this is helping either of you." I pluck at a stray thread. "In fact, each time you both come in here, you seem worse."
Ron crosses his arms. "That's why we're here to see you. You're the professional."
"I'm here to help guide you to health. Were it within my power I'd simply hand it to you, but it's not that easy. And as the professional, I'm suggesting that this situation is cause for concern."
The tips of his ears are pink. "Speak plainly before I leave."
"Both of you have experienced especially trying pasts. Pasts that you both have yet to heal from. I'm concerned that you are amplifying each other's trauma rather than helping dispel it."
His ears are redder. I gently take his hand and watch red fade back to pink. I face Tenbis. "What should we do?"
She sits back in her chair. "From what you both have said, I think talking each other through these things would be a rather large positive step forward. Spending time in silence, while valuable, shouldn't be the only interaction if you both want to progress."
Ron's hand tightens around mine. Dread settles in the pit of my stomach. "Thank you, Healer Tenbis, for meeting with us early and for the advice. We'll pick up our normal potions and be on our way."
We leave the office in silence. It's easier that way… Tenbis stares.
I floo into our living room after Ron. "All I'm saying is maybe she's right!"
His shoulders clench before he turned to me. "About what? Needing to talk? What is there to talk about?"
I throw my hands up in the air. "Our feelings? What's going on in our heads?"
"Hermione, you know it all! You know what I dream about every fucking night. You know what I see! Just like I know what you see!"
I shrug off my robes and throw them on the chair. "Yeah, I know what you see, but I don't see you trying to make it better!"
Ron grips his hair. "What do you mean? I hold you, I comfort you, I let you cry, I do everything I can to make sure you're okay!"
"Ronald! I'm not talking about me! What are you doing to make yourself better?"
"TRYING TO FORGET IT ALL!"
He starts to pace. I drop onto the chair, weary. "That won't work."
"How would you know? We're both just as messed up as the other."
I pinch the bridge of my nose. "I know, but damn it, at least I'm trying."
Ron pauses at my tired sigh. He sits down on the couch and reaches for my hand. "I'm sorry for yelling, 'Mione." His voice cracks. "I just don't know what to do anymore. This," he gestures between us, "isn't working."
My body feels heavier. "She's right… we're just making it worse on each other."
Ron moves to kneel in front of me. He presses his forehead against mine. "I love you. But I can't be the reason that you can't get better."
A tear falls from my eye to his cheek. "I can't stand knowing I'm making it worse for you." He brings his hand to my neck and rubs his thumb across my jaw. My lip trembles. "What do we do?"
Ron sighs. "Maybe try to spend some time apart…"
I swallow. Hard. "I can see if maybe Harry and Ginny will let me stay —"
"No, I'm pretty sure my old flat is still empty. I can go there. That way we still have our own spaces."
I wrap my arms around his neck. "Can I still see you?"
He pulls me closer. "Of course. I don't know how often, but I will always make time for you." I settle in his lap on the floor. I listen to his breathing and close my eyes. We don't say anything – we don't have to. It's easier this way.
A/N: I know, I said it's Dramione, just bear with me! Backstory is needed. If you have any suggestions or critiques let me know! I love, love, love reviews. Thank you all :)