A Life Worth Living

Chapter 3 - A New Beginning

Hermione left the office angry, confused, and upset; emotions that had plagued her for nearly a year. The potions master had seen right through her, and it made her head spin. Who was he to know her thoughts, her feelings? Even she could not make any sense of them!

Her mind, as well as her feet, continued to wander until she found herself at the door to Professor Neffler's office. She knocked hesitantly, and then louder when there was not reply. Instead, Hermione turned in the direction of the Gryffindor Tower. Having arrived unnoticed in the common room, she saw Harry and Ron engaged in conversation by the fire. She walked over to them, but stopped when she was close enough to hear what they were talking about.

"...first match of the season, and she missed it! Come to think of it, she only went to one game last year as it was!"

"I really don't mind, Ron. I know what it's like to lose your parents, I can understand why she's been so depressed."

"But suicide? She mustn't care about our feelings much, to try and kill herself like that! We've been so bloody careful not to say anything that might upset her, but even then she hardly listens! She acts as if we don't exist! I hate it, I thought she was a friend!"

"That's not fair, Ron, you know this has been hard on her."

"It's been a whole year, Harry. She can't keep going like this..."

Hermione could not listen to any more, she had heard enough. Everything Ron had said was true. She fought to hold back the tears as she ascended the stairs leading up to her chambers. It was the first time she had entered them in four days, having been in the hospital wing since the incident on the Astronomy Tower. The sight of the note she had left brought on a flood of tears, and she threw it on the fire, which she had lit with a point of her wand.

Drying her eyes with her robes, Hermione picked up the small, round package that lay on the floor. She carefully unwrapped it, and recognised it as a Love Crystal. Professor Trelawney had shown them one in Divination four years ago, explaining that it was a form of crystal ball that showed the wielder an image of their love, wherever they may be. Hermione gazed into it and saw nothing but greyish mist.

So this was what her life had come to. She got up, and stood before her mirror. Her bushy hair had become wilder, and desperately needed attention. Her face had become gaunt; her eyes dull and surrounded by dark rings. She was thinner than she had been a year ago, and her robes were creased.

Hermione stared at herself for a good few minutes before picking up a disregarded hairbrush from her dresser. It was time to get on with her life.

*****

After his brief, though exhausting, conversation with Hermione, Professor Snape had gone straight to Dumbledore's office, demanding entry with a brusque "Chocolate Frog,". He marched in to find the headmaster at his desk.

"Severus! I would invite you in, but it seems you already are!" Snape was in no mood for small talk, and got straight to the point, explaining what had happened in his office.

Dumbledore nodded sagely throughout the speech, and when he was done, said, "I think you will find Miss Granger is alright for the time being. She..." Dumbledore was interrupted by a knock on the oak door. "Come in," he said, and the door opened. It was Professor Neffler that stood at the top of the spiral staircase. "Do have a seat, Celia," Dumbledore started, and Professor Neffler occupied the seat next to Snape, to his barely hidden disgust. "We were just discussing Miss Granger. Severus here is concerned about a second attempt on her life."

Neffler frowned. She had thought that Hermione was just beginning to come to terms with what had happened, and said so.

"But there must be something else!" insisted Snape, surprised at his own outburst, and that Dumbledore agreed with him.

"Miss Granger has never given me any reason to believe that she is anything but a very level-headed and mature young lady. This behaviour is very unlike what I would have expected of her," Dumbledore added. "Has she given you any indication of an additional traumatising event, Celia?"

"No…only, about a month after she initially received the news, and to all appearances was coping quite well, she stopped coming to me for almost a fortnight. The week afterward she seemed very vague, almost confused. Then her depression got much worse, and has been until the...night."

"Was that the week following the last Christmas holidays?" enquired Snape. The professor nodded. "I gave her her first detention in six years that week, for making a mess of her Farseek Serum. The girl seemed to be very disconcerted, and couldn't pay attention."

"Perhaps we should adjourn this conversation until Miss Granger's condition either improves or deteriorates. For now, I think we should leave her be, and let her face the facts alone. If one of you could inform Professor McGonagall of what has been said here, I would appreciate it," said Dumbledore, silently dismissing Professor Snape, who stood and left. "Now, Celia, about that owl. It seems that you were right about the connection between Lucius Malfoy and Macnair, he was arrested a few days ago after Malfoy admitted to his involvement in the rampage on Muggle families last year. I thought Miss Granger might attend the trial, but I leave it to you to decide if she is up to it."

"Maybe, but I will have to speak to her about it," Neffler murmured. "Will that be all, Professor?"

"Yes, thank you, Celia," he told the ex-Auror. "Goodnight."

*****

Hermione arrived at Professor Neffler's office just in time to see her friend leave the room. "Professor," she called. Neffler saw her, and gestured toward the open door.

"Come in, I was just going to find you. I guess now I don't have to!" The girl smiled, though hesitantly, almost as if she had forgotten how. Professor Neffler marvelled at the difference it made to her face, brightening her features and lifting the normally sunken eyes. When the pair where settled comfortably in soft armchairs by the glowing fire, the professor ventured to ask what had brought Hermione to her office. The Gryffindor took a breath and began to talk, immediately feeling the release of a burden she had forgotten she carried. She told her friend everything; her grief over the loss of her parents, how horrible she felt when she realised how she had been treating Harry and Ron, Harry's obvious feelings for her, even her hatred of Snape and Malfoy. Professor Neffler simply listened and extended a comforting arm as Hermione poured out her heart to the older woman.

"I just want a fresh start," she finished, “I want to wake up tomorrow morning and not remember anything that's happened in the last year." The words sounded oddly familiar on her lips, and she pushed the startling sense of deja vu aside.

"You can't do that, Hermione, no-one can," Neffler said gently. "Your past is a part of you, you can never rid yourself of it. To try and forget a part of your own life would only lead to worse depression. But a fresh start is definitely a good idea! I suggest you apologise to Harry and Ron, and maybe go and talk to Harry about your feelings for him. He'll understand."

Both sat in silence for a little while, each absorbed in their own thoughts. Small talk followed, the first friendly conversation Hermione had had in months. Neffler decided against mentioning the trial, giving her time to sort things out with the boys, and herself, before confronting her with such a decision.

Even after the girl left, the professor's thoughts strayed to Hermione. Snape was right, there was something else. Dumbledore knew it too, and must know more than he was letting on. Why else would he all but turn a blind eye to Hermione's condition? Depression was serious; she had already proven that. It was not like the headmaster she knew, at all. So many questions...

*****

"Damn!" Hermione cursed, fumbling for her wand. She had finally gotten around to a bit of rest and relaxation, and had promptly dropped her book out the open window. Dropping to her knees, she crawled to the edge of the window seat and tried to see where the book had landed. A trembling hand crept up to brush away the sweat already obscuring her vision. Ever since the night on the tower, Hermione had become very wary of heights, not entirely trusting herself around them.

"Accio book!" she shouted at the ground 50 metres below her. A small, leather-bound object came flying up at her, and she jumped away from the window to allow it in. Hermione frowned. This was not her book; it was a diary. Her diary, she realised when she discovered her name printed neatly on the inside cover. It was dated two years back, and for the most part was filled with trivial entries noting due assignments and idle comments regarding friends and teachers.

Towards the end of the year, however, the diary became more of a journal than a to-do list. Entries were lengthier and more personal; Hermione felt herself reliving every moment of her early sixth-year life. Then she came to the day her parents died.

Involuntarily, her hands began to tremble as she slowly turned the pages, feeling for a second time the shock, denial, and despair that followed the deaths of her mother and father. Here the thin parchment was tear-stained, and the black ink was smudged. Still she read on, watching herself slowly come to grips with her loss.

It was in the Christmas holidays of that sixth year that she first noticed the peculiar feeling that haunted the pages. Unlike the happenings of previous entries, these events were becoming more and more unfamiliar, almost alien to her. Hermione frowned and continued to read, the lack of memory frightening her. The further she went, the worse it got, until she had no recollection of the experiences she had recorded less than a year ago.

Then she found out why.

*****

A memory charm. Of course, how could he have been so blind? Snape glanced sharply at the bushy haired girl sitting quietly behind a simmering cauldron. She was certainly bright enough to cast one, in all probability she was the cleverest witch Hogwarts had seen for decades. He sighed as he watched her whisper instructions in Longbottom's ear.

"Detention, Miss Granger, 8 o'clock," he said lazily. She glared at him, but otherwise did not respond. Next to her, Potter and Weasley broke out in angry whispers. He sneered. "Potter. Weasley. You will join Miss Granger if you do not cease your useless prattle." The boys shut up, knowing full well that a warning given by the Potions Master was unusually lenient. Snape settled back in his chair, and took another look at Granger. The girl was outwardly studious and intelligent, yet inwardly, he knew, unstable and depressed. She reminded him so much of... His stomach gave a sickening twist.

She reminded him of himself.