Don\'t Let It Carry You Away

Chapter Two … A New Day

She awoke slowly to the smells that always seemed to permeate hospitals, muggle and wizard alike. The smell of stale sickness and scrubbed urine that seemed to thrive in the air around her was a sure indicator that not only had she survived, but let her know immediately that she must be in the hospital wing of Hogwarts. The shame of her situation quickly resurfaced and she was surprised to feel the embarrassment and worthlessness bubble within her as she looked at her friends surrounding her bed.

Did they know what happened to her? Did Madame Pomfrey tell them that she was now a used and worthless shell of what she used to be? She couldn’t stand the thought of them knowing what had been done to her. She didn’t want to deal with them looking at her in revulsion every day for the rest of seventh year. If they knew, she decided, she would just leave school. After all, she didn’t need her N.E.W.T.S, no one would ever hire some filthy whore, even if she managed to graduate top of her class.

It surprised her that thinking these things didn’t hurt more. She certainly hadn’t expected to be able to give up so easily. Even last night when she was sure she would die, there was some ember of her former perseverance that had kept propelling her to the door. But now, with the afternoon light shining in through the small window near her bed she felt hopeless and it scared her more then anything else ever had.

When she opened her mouth to speak to her friends, she was surprised at the sharp pain in her chest. Ever since she joined the magical world she hadn’t received an injury that Madame Pomfrey hadn’t been able to heal immediately. Her friends, who had been conversing quietly, looked over to her at her sharp intake of breath and in a flash Harry was rubbing a soft flannel against her forehead and Ginny was summoning Madame Pomfrey to her. Ron, dear sweet oafish Ron, was caressing her hand in the sweetest way, looking as if he was in as much pain as she was.

She gently pried her hand from his, regretting it the instant she did at the look of confusion on his face. How would she ever tell him that she was repulsed by the touch of any man right now? That just the sight of them hovering around her made her lungs close up and nausea roil in her stomach. Oh god, how was she ever going to survive? Hermione Granger was a fighter by nature. A lioness in every essence of the word, but she just wasn’t sure she would ever get over this. Though in the end she still steadied herself internally and took a deep breath, steeling herself to tell her friends to give her some space. It was then when she was saved by the bustling mediwitch shooing her friends outside the privacy curtain.

The look in the mediwitch’s eyes was something that Hermione never thought anyone would look at her with. It was sorrow, and pity, it was a look that seemed to scream with no words at all. Something in her eyes told Hermione that maybe she wasn’t the only one who thought she wouldn’t get through this…ordeal... in one piece. It was sickening. And when Hermione opened her mouth to speak, a gentle, but firm hand rested on her shoulder and those steely grey eyes that said so much a second ago shuttered closed and the business like matron was back in a flash.

“Miss Granger, I don’t know who did this to you, but several things need to be discussed with Professor McGonagall. In these circumstances I think its best you speak to your head of house, and a woman, over Headmaster Dumbledore. First things first though.” And with a flick of her wand she placed a silencing and several privacy charms around the bed.

“I haven’t told anyone of the extent of your injuries” she continued “except of course for the Headmaster and Professor McGonagall. They have agreed not to do anything until they speak to you first. I have healed all of your major injuries, which included two broken legs, a broken rib, a severe concussion, and finally a punctured lung. Everything is healing steadily now, but I’m afraid your legs were the worst of it and you will have to have extensive physical therapy for several months and you may be using a cane for quite awhile. I am sorry dear, but I know you can get through it. You had severe vaginal tearing as well, which was rather simple to heal, but now that you’re awake I will need to run a few tests to make sure your reproductive system didn’t sustain permanent damage. I am so sorry dear. When we find who did this to you I will personally see to it they will never see the light of day again.”

Hermione was all at once overwhelmed by what she was hearing and relieved she was ever going to walk again. The physical injuries she could handle to an extent, it wasn’t as though she wasn’t hurt in the war, but she was going to have to learn to walk again. And though the thought of ever touching a man made her burn with rage and cringe with sickness, she couldn’t believe that she may not be able to have children if she was, as Madame Pomfrey so eloquently put it ‘permanently damaged’. Like that wasn’t the understatement of the year, she though bitterly. She would always be permanently damaged from this day forward.

She nodded her understanding of what she had been told, but couldn’t even bear to open her mouth and speak. When Madame Pomfrey signaled she was going to begin the exam, Hermione simply closed her eyes, clenched her jaw, and tried her damndest not to flinch away from the feather light touches. It was simple enough as far as exams go, a muggle doctor would have to be much more invasive, and in the back of her head Hermione was grateful for the care she was receiving. A tap of a wand to her arm and blood was drawn, a tap to her abdomen and a urine sample came next, and finally a few waves over her abdomen again and a long paper with diagnostics was flowing from Pomfrey’s wand.

“Alright dear, your done for now. I will run tests on these samples and speak to you about them as soon as I know anything. Take this calming draught and I will release the charms around your bed so you can see your friends. It’s your decision what to tell them, but I would recommend abstaining from any details until you speak with McGonagall first. It’s of course your decision though. And try to remember; though no one can ever tell you how you should feel about all this, and you are going to have to heal on your own terms, your friends have been here all night for you. They love you deeply and you can lean on them for any support you will ever need.”

And with those parting words, the curtains were drawn back and the Mediwitch bustled out while her friends shuffled in. She looked in the eyes of her friends, her surrogate family in fact, and felt her heart unclench just a bit. Madame Pomfrey wad right, they had always been there for her, and they always would be. She could trust them. So when Professor McGonagall stepped in behind the trio, she asked if they could stay. She reassured her Professor, who was something akin to a favorite Aunt since her parent’s deaths, that she wanted them there and after all, she didn’t want to have to tell the story twice.

When Professor McGonagall agreed, albeit reluctantly, Hermione heaved a sigh of relief and readied herself to tell her tale. After asking Ginny to help her sit up and drink the calming draught she sighed and hesitantly began her tale.

“Hi guys” she croaked, her voice raw and scratchy “I guess you want to know what happened.” With emphatic nods from the three and a softly concerned look from McGonagall, she smiled slightly and continued on. “As you know I was visiting my parents graves last evening and”

“Sorry Hermione, I don’t mean to interrupt, but I think you should know that you have been unconscious for almost three days. I am surprised Madame Pomfrey didn’t tell you. You were found Friday night, its Monday afternoon now.” Ginny whispered slowly. As if this news would cause her any more stress then anything else already had.

“Oh. Well, okay, I was visiting my parent’s graves on Friday evening then” she corrected as though the time lapse meant nothing to her. “I had left the cemetery and apperated into Hogsmeade where I decided to walk back to the castle. You know to clear my head and get my emotions under control and all that. The last thing I needed was to go to noisy Gryffindor tower right away and have everyone ask if I was alright repeatedly. Anyway, I was walking back when someone grabbed me from behind. The voice sounded so familiar. I know I have heard it before, but I just can’t for the life of me pt my finger on who it belongs to. Well, he kicked me and punched me and threw a few curses I have never heard of before. It was horrid. I thought I had never been in so much pain, by the time he threw the last kick I was silently begging for the Cruciatus curse instead. At least if I lost my mind then I could escape to somewhere.” She took another deep breath, and when her eyes darted to the water pitcher on the bedside table, there was a small flurry of activity as Harry and Ron both reached for it at the same time, anxious to do what they could for her.

After a few sips of water and an internal debate on determination, she chose to tell them the whole story, surprised at the relief of getting it off her chest. “I was so relieved when I didn’t feel another blow. I though it was finally over. But then” the determination was slowly ebbing away as she vividly began remembering every feeling once again. “But then I heard a rustling sound and I felt my skirt being lifted and my knickers being torn. I…I felt him push himself inside of me, and he just raped me. He didn’t even sound like he was enjoying it, he sounded like it disgusted him. Not to rape, but to rape a mudblood. And then he picked me up and apperated to the school gates and dropped me there. He sent another curse and I heard my legs snap. But I didn’t feel them snap, and that scared me, because I knew they were broken when I tried to crawl, but I couldn’t feel anything below my waist anymore. And I just started pulling myself forward with my arms, and I kept clawing at the dirt. I could feel the rocks and gravel scraping my skin, but I just kept pulling. Then I got to the steps and I remember thinking that I should just die. That it would be so much easier if I were dead and with Mum and Dad. Then I blacked out and woke up here.”

When she closed her mouth and didn’t hear anything from her friends she looked up to their faces and saw what she feared the most. Revulsion. It was evident on every face; even on that of her dear Professor’s and Hermione felt her heart break all over again. How could she ever be part of a group that was repulsed by the thought of her? By the thought of what she had gone through. How was she ever dense enough to think they would understand? And with the final blow to her done with, Hermione rolled her back towards her friends, curled up in a ball, as cried harder then she ever cried before. She cried because she was hurting. She cried because she was ashamed. But most of all, she cried because nothing would ever be the same as it was before.

And so behind her back, four people wore identical looks of sorrow. Three Gryffindors shook their heads sadly and retreated hand in hand back to the tower to tell everyone that she was awake. Though they would never give details of how she was hurt. They were so deeply sorry for everything their beautiful Hermione had gone through, and though none would admit it to the other, all three were trying desperately to push down the dark guilt that was bubbling in each one of them.

A/N- Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know if you have any suggestions for this story. I do not have anything planned so far, and I really am just kind of winging it. Sooooo, feel free to criticize and give me pointers all you want.