Fractured Triangle

"What´s this? An armed guard?"

Hermione laughed, albeit weakly, at Ron´s comment as he looked from one of her companions to the other. She was flanked by Parvati and Lavender, who were giving Ron knowing nods and exchanging subtle glances with one another.

"They´ve decided that...that they´re going to be my secretaries this year," Hermione said, aware that the girls clicked their tongues in disapproval, no doubt wanting to interrupt and say something else.

Beside Ron, his mouth covered with his hand, Harry seemed to be having trouble smothering chuckle at the incredulous look on Ron´s face.

"Secretaries? Hermione, you´re only the Head Girl! Not the Minister of Magic!"

"Tell these two that," she tried to sound flippant, as she nodded towards the pair of girls. "I´ll be perfectly capable of taking care of all my work."

"In that case," Lavender said, her hand resting on Hermione´s left shoulder. It wasn´t much, but the contact was reassuring. While Ron had been joking about her having a guard, it did...kind of feel like that. She felt safer with them there. "We´re going to be her fashion consultants."

"Or we´re going try to help her, at least," Parvati added, giving Hermione a pointed look. "But sometimes, she just won´t take our advice."

The implication was there and Hermione bit on the inside of her lip.

He didn´t need to know. He didn´t need to be hurt by knowing. Parvati didn´t know what she was talking about.

"That´s our stubborn Hermione," Ron laughed, then grabbed her in an impulsive hug. Hermione, caught off-guard, cried out in fright and, immediately, Parvati and Lavender extricated her from her startled boyfriend´s arms. "What the...?"

Hermione was torn between bursting out laughing at the completely nonplussed look on Ron´s face and crying because even that sudden bit of contact from someone she loved more then anything had brought all the memories tumbling back.

Her skin had gone from molten hot to ice-cold in rapid succession, in a matter of seconds. She felt a wave of dizziness wash over her, blinking hard to clear her head, an arm under hers holding her steady.

"You all right, Herm?" Lavender asked, sounding almost casual, but there was a note of concern in her voice.

"You just made me a little dizzy," she replied, the hand supporting her arm falling away. She looked up at Ron, giving him a watery smile. "I don´t know if I´m coming or going with everyone pulling me left, right and centre..."

There was an odd expression in Ron´s brown eyes, a combination of hurt, confusion, concern and doubt. "You mean I´m not allowed to give you hugs anymore, because your... fashion consultants don´t like it?"

"Don´t be daft, Ron!" Lavender laughed. It sounded convincing, carefree, merry but Hermione could tell it was forced. "We just want to finish our assessment of her look without you messing it up any more, before we start working with her."

"After all, we have our work cut out for us," Parvati agreed amiably, wrinkling her dainty nose. "We don´t want even more work."

"Thank you very much," Hermione muttered.

"We just want to make sure we do the best we can for you, Hermione," Parvati said, looping her arm through Hermione´s and giving both the boys a smile. "Now, if you don´t mind, we´re going to take the Head Girl down for breakfast."

"But we were going to go to see Hagrid..." Harry said, his green eyes on her face. He knew something was wrong. She could tell and it was making her skin prickle with unease. How could he always tell?

"Sorry, Harry," Parvati said stubbornly, the tone in her voice suggesting if Harry even tried to argue, he would be very, very sorry. "We want to discuss fees with our... what would you call her, Lav?"

"Test subject?" Lavender suggested.

"Hey!" Hermione said indignantly. "I´m not some kind of Guinea-pig!"

"C'mon, Head Girl," Parvati grinned. "Breakfast time."

Hermione looked from one girl to the other. "I don´t have a choice in this, do I?"

"Actually, now you come to mention it," Lavender quickly looped her arm through Hermione´s free one before Hermione could pull away from either of them and gave her a smile. "No. You don´t."

Harry and Ron stared at them, as the girls swept off down the hall. Hermione shot an apologetic look back at her friends, where they had been left standing - looking rather shell-shocked - outside her private room.

She was practically frog-marched all the way down the staircases to the Great Hall, where Parvati and Lavender stopped at the doors. Releasing her arms, they looked around and apparently spotted someone.

It was early, so there were only a few pupils in the hall so far, but most of the teachers were there already.

"Hermione," Lavender turned to her. "There´s Professor McGonagall...we...we think you should tell her..."

Staring at the taller girl, Hermione was convinced she had to be hearing things. She felt the colour seep from her face. "That´s why you brought me down here, away from Harry and Ron? To...to make me tell them?"

"Hermione," Parvati began.

"No!" Shaking her head, Hermione backed away from them, out of sight of everyone in the Great Hall. How could they do this? How could they try and force her to tell someone else? They had promised not to tell anyone! "I told you I wanted to forget about it!"

Parvati´s face contorted in concern, as she took a step towards Hermione, one hand held out in supplication. "Hermione, you need to tell someone...please..."

"I don´t want to!" Clenching one hand against her stomach as a familiar burning, sick feeling spread outwards from it, the brown-haired witch swallowed hard. "I told you I didn´t want to tell anyone..."

"Hermione," Lavender started to say.

"No! I´m not telling anyone else! And if you try..." Fishing around for a threat, she pulled her wand out, her hand shaking, and pointed it at each of them in turn. "I could make you forget everything...I could do that!"

"We just want to help, Hermione," Parvati pleaded. "Just tell McGonagall."

"I can deal with this," Hermione hissed, blinking hard to force back tears. Her wand shook, but was aimed at Parvati´s heart as she spoke. "I´m not letting that bastard ruin my life! I don´t need anyone else to know! Promise you won´t tell anyone or I´ll obliviate you now!"

Parvati looked hopelessly at Lavender. "Lav..."

"All right, Herm," the taller girl said, raising her hands in submission. "We´ll let you do what you like until you´re ready, okay? You don´t need to obliviate us. We won´t tell anyone, even if we think we should."

Slowly lowering the wand, Hermione looked down at it in disbelief. She had just threatened her classmates, people who were trying to help her, people who actually cared about what happened to her.

"I...I´m sorry," she whispered, shaking her head, her eyes burning. "I...I..."

Lavender breached the space between them and wrapped her arms around Hermione reassuringly. "It´s okay, Hermione, it´s okay," she said softly, comfortingly. "Me and Parv... we´ll look after you, okay?"

"But I...I threatened you...I-I'm as bad as he is..."

"No!" Lavender almost shouted it. Her hands on Hermione's shoulders, she held her at arm's length. "Hermione, listen to me, you're nothing like him! Nothing! You´re worth a hundred, no - you´re worth a thousand of him, if not more. You...you're just having a nervous reaction. It's understandable."

"And, at this rate, we´ll get used to you waving that bloody wand in our face every day that we´ll be able to duck in time so you don't have to worry about catching us off-guard or putting our eyes out or something," Parvati added.

Hermione almost laughed, but it came out as more of a croak. "You two are barking to be bothered about me."

"Actually," Parvati grinned slightly, "we´re just barking all the time. No one ever bothered to realise it."

Reluctantly pulling away from Lavender, Hermione sniffed hard. "I´ve realised it, haven´t I?" she said, scrubbing her eyes with the heel of her hand and forcing a faint smile. "H-how about we get some breakfast?"

***

"So, have your fashion consultants finished with you yet?"

Hermione looked up from the piece of roast beef she was pushing around her plate to find Ron standing just behind her, a hesitant half-smile on his face. "Ron! Yes, they´re finished now!"

"We are?" Lavender demanded, from the opposite side of the table. "But Hermione, we haven´t even started on the hair..."

Ron squeezed in between Neville and Hermione, giving Hermione an affectionate smile that made her stomach whirl. "Well," he said amiably, "just so you know, I like your hair just the way it is."

Heat flushed up her cheeks and she hastily looked down at her plate to hide a smile.

"Ron!" Parvati shrieked wildly.

He visibly jumped with fright. "What? What I do?"

"You made her change her skin tone, you twit! Now we´re going to have to redesign her whole make-up system!"

Lavender was staring at the panting Parvati with as much shocked amusement as the rest of the Gryffindor table. "Calm down, Parv," she suggested, patting her friend on the head. "It´s called a blush. It´ll go away soon enough."

"Yes, Lav, I´m well aware of what she´s doing," wailed Parvati, making air-quotes with her fingers. "but what happens if she 'blushes' when she´s wearing the teal?"

Lavender´s blue eyes went wide. "Omigawd!"

"Exactly!"

"Ron, you just saved us from making your girlfriend look like a clown!" Lavender exclaimed, leaping to her feet, Parvati by her side. "Hermione, c´mon! We have to go and find something that doesn´t clash before your blush goes away!"

"Nice to see them taking their job so seriously," Ron remarked, making Hermione laugh softly, as she speared a sliver of beef with her fork. Her attention was focused completely on tall, red-haired and gangly at the present time. "Although someone might want to tell them to cut down on the caffeine."

"HERMIONE!" Lavender repeated at a shout, waving her arms. "We have to save your vanity case!"

Hermione blinked at the two girls, having just put a chunk of beef in her mouth. "Um...?"

"And we´ll have to find something to work with that hamster look she has going on there," Parvati muttered to Lavender, who nodded gravely, tapping her chin with her fingertips pensively.

"Chubby cheeks...in or out this year?" the taller of the two asked, looking to her counterpart for confirmation.

"In, most definitely..."

"Right," Lavender nodded. "Better make sure that she stuffs her cheeks with food every day before she goes out."

Hermione choked on the beef she was chewing and immediately was slapped firmly on the back by Ron, who looked like he was having trouble keeping his face straight at Parvati and Lavender´s running commentary.

"Choking adds an opening for matching purple or blue...whaddya thing, Parv? Purple?"

"Maybe with a dash of blue for shading?"

"Ideal...now...about lips that go blue when you choke...I think gloss works wonders for emphasis..."

On the opposite side of the table, the sniggering Seamus poured a fresh goblet of pumpkin juice for Hermione and she gratefully accepted it, coughing several times before gulping the contents down, her eyes watering.

She was aware of Ron´s hand still moving on her back in slow, soothing circles. It was a nice, comforting feeling and she gave him a nervous smile, before averting her eyes, her cheeks growing warm again.

"Don´t worry, Hermione," he murmured, his lips so close to her ear that she could feel the heat of his skin radiating against her own. "If they try to do anything like that to you, just let me know and I´ll throw Harry at them."

She could barely register a word that he was saying, the light warmth of his breath making her hair ripple against her skin. It was making her tremble in a way that she hadn't felt for days and she couldn´t decide whether it was a good or a bad thing.

His hand slid down her back, to loop his arm around her waist.

It was something he had done since they had first got together, something that was `their´ trademark, something she loved him doing, just to show the word in a subtle way that she was his girlfriend.

His hand spread on her side, close to her right hip. This was bearable. This was all right. This was fine. His fingers started moving in slow circles against her jumper, the sensations passing through to her already-tingling skin and her tremors grew more prominent.

A dizzying wave of nausea washed over her.

She couldn´t face this.

Not being touched like this, not in such an innocent way, not now, not even by Ron.

Her fork clattered from her shaking hand onto her plate and she scrambled out from the seat, her face burning. "I-I´m sorry, Ron," she gasped dizzily, taking a step back from him, the confusion and hurt on his face sending a stabbing pang of guilt through her. "I-I-I have to go."

Turning, she fled, ignoring him calling her name.

Hot tears of anger, shame and self-loathing were burning in her eyes again as she ran out of the Great Hall. They gathered and spilled free, as she darted up the staircases and along the corridors towards her private room.

Gasping the password, panting, her lungs heaving, she stumbled into the room as the painting opened, pulling it closed behind her. She staggered to her bed, flinging herself on the mattress and sobbing.

A curious mew from Crookshanks made her raised her tear-sheened face and she struggled to sit up, gathering her cat in her arms, her eyes pressed shut. "I wish you hit his throat when you clawed him, Crooks," she whispered hoarsely, her cheek pressed against Crookshanks´ ginger back. "I wish I knew he was gone. Gone for good."

Tilting his head, her pet nuzzled her cheeks, licking away salty tears.

A knocking on the painting made her look up sharply, her grip on her cat tightening, her other hand going for her wand.

"Who is it?" she demanded shrilly.

"Just me, Hermione."

Harry.

No doubt he had heard from someone or seen what had happened with Ron in the Great Hall moments earlier.

"J-just a minute!"

Scrambling off her bed, she ran to the small sink that stood in the far corner of the room, splashing cold water on her cheeks to dull the burning there and towelling her face dry quickly.

Straightening her uniform, she opened the painting. As she had guessed, Harry Potter was standing there, a concerned look on his face. Forcing a smile, she motioned for him to come in. "What are you doing up here, Harry?"

Looking around the room appreciatively, Harry turned to face her. His expression was earnest. "I came to find you, actually," he replied. "Ron said that something upset you at dinner."

"Upset me?"

Oh God...did her voice really sound that shrill and pathetic?

"Hermione..."

She laughed, an odd, high-pitched laugh, and even to her own ears it sounded stilted and forced. "I´m fine, Harry! I don´t know what Ron´s on about! I-I-I was just feeling a little ill...that bug I had, you know..."

"Yeah," Harry took a step towards her and she back-stepped away from him, a little uncomfortable with the serious look on his face. A flicker passed in Harry´s green eyes and Hermione licked her lips nervously.

He had noticed she was backing away.

Her mouth felt dry, her throat tight, her hands clenching into fists at her side.

If he had noticed that, as he certainly appeared to do, he would also have noticed that she never used to back away from anyone. If anything, she had always been the one that pushed forwards.

He noticed too much, Harry.

Swallowing hard, she tried to smile at him and took a baby-step forwards. "So...so is there anything you wanted to talk about?" she asked, hoping and praying and pleading with anyone who could hear her that she sounded more confident than she felt.

"I was wondering what was wrong, Hermione."

"Wrong?" Another false, shrill laugh made her cringe internally. "Nothing´s wrong! Why would anything be wrong?"

Green eyes gazed placidly at her and she felt her resolve falter.

Ever since she had met up with him and Ron again, it was Harry, Harry and his genuinely good, understanding nature that had almost brought her to breaking point.

He knew what it was like to be hurt, more than anyone she knew, and his eyes seemed to carry the understanding and knowledge of someone treble his age. It was this nature of his that had almost reached her.

It was like the pounding impact of a rubber ball being bounced repeatedly against fragile sheet of glass. While it looked like it was having no effect, tiny, barely noticeable cracks had been webbing out - a little at a time - across the protective shell she had enclosed herself in.

One more strike and it would shatter completely.

"Hermione, I´m your friend, you know." Don´t say it. Don´t say it. Please don´t say it. Please. Please. I don´t need to hear it. I don´t want to hear it. Please. "You can talk to me, if something´s wrong."

Oh Harry...

I can´t.

I daren´t.

You´ll tell Ron. You tell Ron everything and if you told him this, he...

He doesn´t need to know.

Please understand. Please.

He would be angry...shocked...hate me...be disgusted...ashamed...ashamed that me, his girlfriend, could let this happen...that I asked for this...that I must have been showing so much that he took my offer...that I could have almost enjoyed it...

Turning away from him, Hermione tried to level her breathing, her vision blurring.

Her chest felt tight, painfully tight, as if bands of iron had been coiled around her ribs, her shaking hand spread over her heart. Her fingers bit into her skin and she could feel the bruises blossom already.

"Hermione." She shivered when his hand touched her shoulder. "Hermione, look, if Ron´s done something to upset you...if I´ve done something, can´t you at least tell us what it is?"

"No!" Spinning, she stared at him, shaking her head. How could they think that they had done something? "No, you haven´t done anything! You or Ron!"

"Then what is it that´s upsetting you?" he challenged, meeting her eyes. There was no anger or malice in his eyes, only genuine concern and Hermione had to quash a whimper of pain. "There´s something wrong and you´re not telling us."

He cared so deeply.

She could see it in his eyes.

He just wanted to help her, to understand, to know what it was that was causing her to act like this.

"I-I can´t say, Harry," she heard her voice shaking saying to him. "Not yet. I have to work some things out. I just need a little time."

How? What force of man or nature was making her speak? What was producing these words?

Her brain certainly wasn´t.

It was currently rocking in the corner of a padded room, somewhere in her skull.

Harry raised a hand and squeezed her shoulder, then gave her his gentlest, most understanding smile.

The final blow was struck and she felt her barriers crumbling around her.

She longed, wanted, wished desperately to throw her arms around his neck and sob out the whole story, but something - no doubt the same something that had made her speak moments before - was holding her back.

"I better get back to Ron," he said, lowering his hand from her shoulder. No! Don´t go, Harry! No! Please! Let me speak! Please! Help me! Please, Harry, please! "We´ll be about when you´re ready, all right?"

"All right," her voice replied, strangely calmly, and Hermione was convinced she could hear her mental self pounding helpless fists against the iron door that had just been slammed on her.

She wanted to tell Harry. She wanted him to know everything and keep on giving her that little understanding smile. She wanted him to hug her, soothe her and tell her it would be fine.

Something, some part of her, wouldn´t let that happen.

She felt like she was weighted down with lead as he gave her another smile and slipped out of the room, leaving her standing there. Tears broke from her lids and slid down her cheeks.

"Harry..." she tried to call him back, but her voice was little more than a squeak. Her legs slithered out from beneath her, leaving her sat in a heap on the floor, tears silently spilling down her face, her hands limply lying in her lap.

She was still sitting there, staring blindly in front of her, when Parvati and Lavender hurtled into the room.

"Hermione!"

Parvati shook her. "Hermione, you all right?"

Blinking, she raised blood-shot eyes to the dark-haired girl. "I-I almost told Harry... but I couldn´t...I tried to tell him...but I couldn´t..." she whispered, shaking her head, her throat raw and her voice rasping. "I tried...I tried to tell my friend...but I couldn´t tell...I couldn´t..."

"Oh, Herm..." She was quickly gathered in Parvati´s arms and drawn to the exotic girl´s chest, Parvati holding her and rocking her. "At least we know, eh? At least someone can give you a hand now and then, right?"

Nodding, Hermione closed her eyes and wished with all her might that it was Harry.

***

Sitting in her window box, Hermione stared out into the grounds.

There was a greyish wash to the day already, even though the sky was clear but for a few dashes of cirrus. The sun had barely kissed the lip of the horizon, morning dew still lying fresh in a sheet over everything.

Today would be a better day than yesterday, she had been telling herself repeatedly since she got up, an hour earlier, unable to sleep.

Yes, there had been another nightmare, but it was hardly significant.

Just one nightmare.

Yes, it was longer than any of the others had been, yes it was more violent than any dream she had ever had before and yes, she had been sobbing and terrified when she had woken, but it was still nothing more than a bad dream.

Just a dream.

Not real.

Leaning back against the wall of the window-box, she tilted her head back, pressing it against the stone until her skull throbbed in protest, and closed her eyes. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she tried to suppress a shiver.

A dream, she told herself, just a dream.

It was the knowledge that the dream came from the real experience, from her own mind and memory albeit distortedly, that was weighing down on her though. It was a dream this time, she corrected, shuddering.

Sitting back up, she swung her legs out from the window seat. Sliding onto her feet, pulling her dressing gown around her and tying the cord tightly, she shuffled over to her desk, picking up her timetable.

She had no real need to be up this early, since breakfast wasn´t for another hour and a half at least, but she had been unable to get back to sleep since five o´clock, when she had woken crying out and shaking.

Studying her class times, as she wandered over to her wardrobe, she distractedly pulled a fresh shirt out, leaving the door open a crack. Walking back across to her bed and draping the shirt on top of her skirt, tie and underwear, ready for the trek to the bathroom, she ran a hand through her tangled hair with a yawn.

How she wished she could have had just a few minutes more sleep.

Perhaps, she mused, laying the timetable down on the end of her neatly-made bed and brushing a few flecks of dust off her shirt and skirt, she ought to ask Madam Pomfrey for some dreamless sleep potion.

After all, she could claim she needed as much rest as possible, especially with the impending duty that came with being Head Girl.

There was really no other reason she needed to give.

Checking her pile of clothing, she nodded. All she needed now was a towel, so she wandered over to the small sink that stood in the far corner. Several of the white Hogwarts towels were folded neatly beneath it, one hanging on the brass ring beside the mirror.

Picking up two, she glanced at her reflection with grimace.

She looked awful, she truly did. Dark rings circled both eyes, which were bloodshot and shadowed with pain and exhaustion. Her cheeks, which were usually rosy with life, were chalk white.

Smiling thinly at herself, she saw a flicker in the reflection of the room. A creak from beside the wardrobe made her stiffen, the towels falling from her hands and she looked past her own image to that of the room in the mirror.

"Oh God..."

No.

NO!

Her hand clutched at her chest, her heart slamming rapidly against her sternum, as she forced herself to turn, burning bile scalding its way up her throat as she came face to face with the one person she hoped she would never see again.

"Malfoy..." she whispered dizzily, her head spinning.

He couldn´t be in here!

He just couldn´t!

How could he have come to the school?

How could he have gained access to her room without her noticing?

He was wearing exactly what he had been wearing that night, dark, ominous and terrifying. His long hair was loose about his shoulders, his cane in his hand, a little smirk on his thin, white lips.

"I told you I would see you soon, little girl."

Shaking her head, Hermione started edging along the wall away from him, one hand clutching the front of her dressing gown, pinning it closed. Her breathing was growing dangerously rapid, her eyes burning with tears of panic and fear.

"Leave me alone," she tried to scream it, but it slipped out as a breath.

He took a lazy step towards her and she cringed back against the wall, the shelf unit bumping bruisingly against her back.

"I must say, you are being awfully rude," he murmured, taking another two steps towards. Scrambling sideways, knocking books off the shelves as she went, Hermione stared at him wildly, panting and sobbing.

"Get away from me! Leave me alone! Leave me alone!"

His lips twisted in that sinister smirk she wished she had never been cursed with seeing. "What would be the satisfaction in that, dear girl?"

"I don´t care!" she wept, raising a trembling hand in desperate supplication as he drifted closer. "Please, don´t...don´t...please...leave me alone...please..."

"I think not," he murmured silkily, looming over her, the chilly light from the windows playing eerily on his features. Hermione flinched back as one gloved hand rose and the fingertips neared her face. "Such a disappointment, tamed so easily."

His words made her jolt, the sick feeling in her stomach burning through her.

"Get away from me!" she screamed out, scrambling backwards, away from him.

A startled gasp escaped her as she felt something metal strike her ankle, tripping her. Plunging backwards with a shriek, her arms flailing uselessly for anything to catch herself, she felt something connect with her head, then...blackness.

***

"Hermione! Hermione!"

Blackness still surrounded her and her head was aching as if it had been struck with a hammer. It felt like it was about to implode. However, she could hear someone crying out her name, shaking her shoulder.

Then it came back to her.

Who she had seen.

Her eyes snapped open and she scrambled backwards across the floor on her hands and bottom, away from the hands that wee gripping her, looking around wildly for the familiar, sneering face.

He...

He wasn´t there.

A terrified, wide-eyed tawny face was staring at her, though.

"H-Hermione? Hermione..." Her voice pierced through the shaking witch´s hazy, terrified awareness. "You´ve bumped your head...must have fallen...hit it on the the fireplace...need to get you to Madam Pomfrey."

Parvati?

Parvati had scared him away?

"He was here," she whispered shakily, looking around. Every little move made her vision swim dizzyingly, but she had to check, had to be sure he was gone. "Parvati, he was here... in my room...he was here..."

"No..." Parvati crawled quickly across the floor to her side, taking Hermione´s hands between her own. Hot hands. Very hot hands compared to her own. Hermione stared at them. Her own looked almost chalk white. "No, Hermione. He wasn´t here."

"No? But he was here! I saw him!" Panic-stricken, she nodded towards the place she had spotted Malfoy, tears burning down her cheeks. "He-he was there...I was looking in the mirror...and he was watching me...came towards me...I tried to run away...I tried... and I fell..."

"Hermione," Those very hot hands came up to her face, burning against her skin, so very warm. She felt dizzy and sick all at once. Parvati met her eyes. "I need you to listen to me, Hermione, please..."

"But he might come back...back again, like he said he would," Hermione whispered, shaking her head, black spots flaring on the outer edges of her sight. "Please...don´t make me stay...please..."

"Hermione, it was a boggart."

Hermione felt her brow furrow in shaken confusion. "No...no, it couldn´t have been a boggart..." she whispered, clutching at Parvati´s upper arms. "I see teachers with bad grades when I see a boggart...I don´t see him...I´ve never seen him before..."

"Listen to me, Hermione, listen..." Parvati whispered, still holding the other girl´s cold face between her hands. "Boggarts take the form of the thing you most fear...you have a new fear...not teachers anymore..."

New fear.

Him.

Forever in her mind.

What she would see if she was ever faced with a boggart again.

What everyone else would see her see, if she was faced with a boggart.

Tears scalded down her cheeks and she shook her head. She didn´t want him to be her new fear. She didn´t want him to be anything to her. She just wanted to forget it happened. She just wanted it all out of her mind.

"Make it go away!"

"What?" Parvati stared at her in incomprehension.

"Obliviate me," Hermione cried, shaking the other girl desperately. "Get rid of it! Make me forget! Please!"

"I-I-I can´t do that, Hermione...even though I want to...I can´t..."

"Please..." Hermione buried her face in her hands, her whole body shaking with the force of her anguish. "Please...don´t let me remember...let me forget...take it away from me...take it all away..."

Parvati slid closer and wrapped her arms around Hermione. Tears of anger and sympathy slipped silently from her amber eyes as she pressed her cheek against the top of Hermione´s bowed head and hugging her tightly.

"It´s going to be all right, Hermione. Everything´s going to be fine," she whispered softly, even though both of them knew it was a lie. "It´s going to be all right."