Needfire

Chapter 29 -- Illumination

\"these precious illusions in my head
did not let me down when I was defenseless
and parting with them is like
parting with invisible best friends\"

-- Precious Illusions. Alanis Morissette


\"Well well, look what we have here…\" A pair of big, summer-blue eyes was scrutinizing Hermione with what seemed like insatiable curiosity. \"So what would be your problem,\" a thoughtful, husky voice wondered. \"You slit your wrists… probably makes you depressive… A simple case of negative energy projection. How completely bor-\"

\"Chloe Nott!\" The voice Hermione had learned to recognize as Amanda Morrow\'s interrupted the girl\'s flow of words, making her roll her eyes and leisurely pull herself from the side of Hermione\'s bed.

\"Off with you now,\" Morrow urged her with a voice that was surprisingly soft. \"Leave Hermione alone and go mind your own business. I won\'t have you disturbing her much needed rest.\"

Hermione, blinking, opened her eyes to protest. \"It\'s all right, Doctor-\"

Amanda Morrow hurried to her bedside at once, where Chloe Nott still stood. \"You must regain your strength,\" she said, leaning to check Hermione\'s pulse, \"and the best way to do so is by sleep. Normal sleep, I should say, and not one caused by sleeping potions. And as to you, Chloe,\" Amanda turned to glare at the lean, blue-eyed girl, \"I\'d expect you to know and respect this place\'s rules by now.\"

This statement, Hermione noted, caused Chloe to lose her calm, bold façade. A muscle in her temple twitched, and she threw back her head, swinging her glittering mass of soft, baby-fine curls. \"You mean, after seven years of hospitalization I should probably be able to recite them,\" she retorted with an illusory sweet smile. \"Perhaps be given some kind of position, a salary maybe, seeing I\'ve been here longer than you have…\" Chloe pouted her lips. \"You know what, Amanda, fuck the rules.\"

Dr. Morrow sighed. \"I\'m sorry you feel this way.\"

Chloe, who was on her way out of the small, pleasant room, turned her head to look at the healer one more time. \"Bollocks.\"

Fully awakened by now, Hermione wriggled into a partial recumbence, uncomfortable to be lying where the other woman had been standing. She was now leaning against the head board, observing the healer, who, noting the stress in her eyes, sighed, and pulling a chair from the small writing stand, sat herself at the girl\'s bedside. \"That was Chloe,\" she said. \"Chloe\'s one of our oldest patients and she will be your roommate-\"

At this prospect, Hermione\'s eyes darted toward the second, four poster bed which was located at the other side of the room. The bedcovers were disheveled, with several books carelessly tossed amongst them. And while the disorder deterred her, she was surprised and then delighted to recognize some of the titles: Kant\'s \"Critique of Pure Reason\", \"Most Potente Potions\", \"Watership Down\"…

Healer Morrow, following Hermione\'s gaze, smiled gently. \"Chloe is a very clever girl. Much like yourself.\"

She frowned. \"Why did I never meet her in Hogwarts, then? She seems about my age.\"

Amanda\'s face bore a severe expression. \"I am not allowed to share the details of the other patients\' conditions with you, but I am allowed to say, however, that certain states of spiritual drift deny one the capability of living outside a certain power shield that we sustain here in St. Mungo\'s. Once outside the wards, those maladies would consume the afflicted person.\"

Again, Hermione\'s eyes traveled to the second bed, scanning the books scattered on the linens: their lush, quadrangular forms had been emphasized by the thin pencil work of light and shadow. She found herself wondering about the other girl, locked inside St. Mungo\'s just like Adams\' and Kant\'s words were locked and preserved inside those innocent looking books, and how wild and fierce was her spirit, despite the confinements. And so refined were these: even the window at the rear end of the room, was charmed to show bright blue sky instead of the boisterous city outside. How strong this girl must be, or how forlorn. Looking at this blank faced window I feel suffocated myself…

In the time since her arrival at the St. Mungo\'s almost four days ago, Hermione had been transferred from the first floor Emergency Room, to the youths\' closed ward on the fourth floor, in the renovated section dedicated to the treatment of spiritual drift: a branch of medicine known in the Muggle world as psychiatry. Small wonder, she thought cynically, that she\'d had no idea in what direction to research when seeking for a wizarding cure for her so-called problem.

Her first memory of the place was Snape at her side, her fingers prying in his disheveled hair. His eyes were wild behind the thin icing of lethal exhaustion. Only then did she realize what she had done and an overwhelming wave of shame flooded her. And along with the shame, the poisonous realization that even attempting suicide, she had failed. Hardly- hardly the worst. When God closes a door, he shuts the window too, and when you\'re already down, he kicks you in the ribs, to make sure your pain is definite.

…\"How dare you try to kill the only thing I love in this world, you little bitch.\"…

I am going to hear those words in my dreams, she mused later; knowing his voice would break attempting to utter the last syllable and his eyes would glaze with tears. And perhaps, in my dreams, we\'ll be together again, so I\'ll have to wake up only to realize he pushed me away because I\'ve been so utterly, utterly stupid…

But she would not think of it- must not think of it. Not if she wanted to keep intact the small part of her soul that was still capable of absorbing heat and enjoying food and appreciating Dr. Amanda Morrow\'s wit.

The Doctor – one of the five healers and five trainees serving in the youths ward – was the person who welcomed Hermione back into the living world.

She had been hanging in the fairies\' realm for three days of metaphorical darkness, refusing to allow food into her stomach, crying into her pillow and ignoring the medical staff hovering around her. At last, after a typological number of mourning days, a breakfast tray had been placed on the collapsible arm attached to her bed and a no-nonsense voice ordered her to eat. Recognizing authority, she found herself crawling to a sitting position, rubbing her eyes, and reaching for the cutlery. In front of her sat a soulful looking woman in her mid-thirties who watched her with blue, warm eyes.

\"Hello, child,\" she greeted Hermione. \"I\'m glad you decided to join us. I\'m Healer Amanda Morrow, though I hope you\'d choose to call me Amanda. I\'m working here in St. Mungo\'s and my main specialization is Illumination. This means that although I can do some basic mediwizarding, my first tool is Legilimency.\" The healer smiled gently.

It was not the kind of smile to bare one\'s teeth, she noticed: Amanda Morrow\'s lips barely moved when she smiled. But her eyes; her warm, blue, somewhat melancholy eyes were washed with the smile, filled with sunlight like another person\'s eyes would be brimmed with tears.

Then she spoke again. \"The Professor – he was my own Potions teacher when I was at Hogwarts,\" Amanda said, \"identified you as Jane. I don’t know what you have been through,\" she continued as she watched Hermione eating. \"I don\'t know why it is you deem it necessary to conceal your true identity, or why you chose a charm so strong as the Fidelius Charm- no, I didn\'t look into your brain to find it,\" the healer assured her as she saw the alarmed expression on the young woman\'s face. \"Legilimency is never undertaken without the patient\'s permission. But I am an experienced healer and I was trained to sense those kinds of distractions, especially the kinds of charms enabling me reach and help my patients.\" She peered at Hermione appreciatively. \"Do you know how the Fidelius Charm works?\"

\"It prevents one from tracking the magical signature of the charmed substance – a person, a location or an item,\" she answered without thinking. \"It has other qualities as well- combining a complex version of the obscuring charm, the Fidelius would make sure other physical signs such as smell, fingertips, DNA et cetera would go unnoticed, but the temporary erasing of the magical signature is the most important.\"

Dr. Morrow nodded. \"And because I can\'t detect your magic, I am unable to reach it,\" she explained. \"And without reaching your magic, I can\'t help you. Can you see why it is important that you break the charm?\"

Hermione narrowed her eyes, watching the healer mistrustfully. \"Why should I trust you to help me?\"

\"You shouldn\'t,\" was Amanda Morrow\'s simple and to-the-point answer. \"I would first explain to you what kind of therapy we offer you here in St. Mungo\'s, and you, being the clever girl you are, would make your own decision whether you accept it or not.\"

\"You mean-,\" she eyed the elder woman suspiciously, \"you mean you won\'t force me to stay?\"

\"You\'re over sixteen,\" came the reply. \"Even if I wanted, I couldn\'t hospitalize you against your will. However, seeing the state in which you arrived, I strongly recommend that you stay here.\"

Hermione, absentmindedly bringing a spoonful of milk and cornflakes to her mouth, processed the information.

Her gaze drifted towards the window to the side. Snowy clouds were leisurely swirling upon the blank azure which kept staring at her. One could have easily been led to think that there was no sooty, hyperventilating London behind this window. As if the city, and not the expressionless sky, was the illusion. Reminding herself that things were, in fact, the other way around, Hermione listened to the healer\'s explanation, quickly becoming engaged in a discussion concerning a branch of magic she had never heard of before.

Just like in the Muggle world, the maladies that Illumination was designed to cure were still considered socially taboo. The practice of treating shadowed souls had been swept under the social, if not professional, rug for many years. It was only in the past seventy five years or so that Illumination was given proper recognition and a ward dedicated to the study and cure in St. Mungo\'s.

Curious, Hermione asked whether Illumination had anything to do with Muggle psychology and psychoanalysis, and was rewarded with a quizzical, appreciative glance from Amanda.

\"Indeed,\" answered the healer, choosing to ignore Hermione\'s profound knowledge concerning the Muggle world. \"Some here, in St. Mungo\'s, actually call us the Muggle division, seeing how closely Illumination relates to the two important Muggle practices of psychiatry and psychology. However, what Muggles treat with Muggle tools, we view through wizarding eyes, and treat with what I see as both wizarding and humane tools.\"

The cereal bowl was put aside in favour of a fruit salad she had been forking through without much thought. \"Can you go into more details?\"

\"Of course. Now, I suppose that the simplest explanation, a very brief one, really, would be that what Muggles perceive as a chemical imbalance in the brain, wizards view as some sort of energetic interference, be it a curse or a spell, or simply negative energy projected onto the person, to cause them depression- prevent them from normal functioning, bringing them suicidal thoughts, and the like. But energetic interference is not necessarily the cause of all energetic ailments: we believe that a healthy person is one whose energies are balanced. Much like Muggle medicine, we believe in balance. Only it\'s not chemicals and neurons we\'re dealing with, but the way they translate into… wizarding terms.\"

Hermione narrowed her eyes. \"How did you guess I am a Muggle born?\"

Dr. Morrow only gave her an entertained, cordial look; smug, but in a rather heartening way. \"You gave yourself away with your words, child. Though I am an Illuminator, and we deal with the human soul. We have our tricks.\"

Hermione nodded slowly. \"Very well. I\'d like to know what kind of energies does Illumination deals with. Seeing you know so much about Muggle world, you might also know that idle talk about energy is the business of charlatans.\"

The doctor didn\'t seem offended. \"Yes. I might know what you\'re talking about. And to your question, the energies that Illumination deals with are the different energies working inside and outside the individual and are known to affect the psyche. Magic is merely tampering with the free energies that already exist in the universe – each branch of magic dealing with a different force: altering, shifting, creating, nourishing and so on. If you are interested, I can loan you some books on the subject- the current scientific research mostly deals with mapping each of the known energies with Muggle methods and instruments-\" Amanda gave her another glowing smile, this time baring the edge of a white, crooked set of upper teeth. \"Small wonder everybody believes us to be mad ourselves. Anyway, once we have located the source of the energetic imbalance in the individual – that is where Legilimency comes into the picture, we use our magic in order to help restore that balance. And yet, the energetic balance within a person is not easily disturbed,\" said the healer, sighing. \"Often enough, it takes a traumatic experience to shake one out of balance- otherwise it might involve a curse, a negative energy projected on the individual by another person and so forth. Some people are even known to curse themselves, after being put under dramatic stress. One must talk things out in order for the occurrence not to repeat. Therapy by talking is the one method we adopted completely from the Muggle equivalent. That is why I am also qualified as a psychotherapist.\"

Hermione blinked. \"You attended a Muggle university?\"

\"An Ivy League school, in America,\" Dr. Morrow noted with some amusement. \"Does it qualify me to poke about in your brain?\"

Hermione cocked an eyebrow, pained all of a sudden to realize it was a gesture she adopted from Snape. \"It certainly helps,\" she mumbled once the first wave of violent anguish had subsided. Her voice was deprived of the cynicism with which she meant to tint it.

The healer only watched her seriously. \"The therapy we offer you here will consist of Legilimency, followed by talking sessions, two times a week. Moreover, we hold biweekly creative magic group therapy we\'d be happy for you to attend, though it is the patient\'s choice whether to take part in it. You would be staying in St. Mungo\'s youths close ward in an ambulatory, enveloping framework settled to provide you with mental and if needed, physical support at every hour of the day or night, with teenagers about your age, experiencing similar conditions. You would be confined to the ward; that is true- it is not an easy place. We are not dealing with easy people. However, we try to make sure your schedule is full, and that if possible, you\'d be able to cope with the time and duties you missed in the outside world. Since most of our patients are of age to attend Hogwarts, we have a small school attached to the ward where some of the basic classes are taught by qualified teachers- some of the classes are held jointly and therefore; geared towards the average student. However, time is spared for individual study with the teacher, time which you\'d be able to utilize for your own studies.\"

Amanda halted, her almond shaped eyes bright with some womanly wisdom: an ancient storyteller sitting in front of a whispering fire, in a dark, moonless night; a witch offering ciphered answers and forbidden cures. The healer\'s face made Hermione think of an open, arid sky, sizzling with electricity, where every sound would be carried for miles, above dusky, alert land. Dr Morrow\'s lips, long and narrow – concealing a promise of comfort and solace – captured her attention.

Unaware of her actions, she put the fork aside, brow furrowed with concentration. \"I see.\"

The healer nodded. \"This is the treatment we have to offer,\" she said. \"In exchange, you\'d have to trust me with your name, and later, with your circumstances, since I would be the Legilimens treating you. I\'ll give you some time to think it over.\"

Hermione swallowed. \"Thank you.\"

\"You\'re welcome, child.\"

And for a brief second, after Amanda Morrow rose to her feet, her small, square hand was on Hermione\'s hair: not ruffling, not stroking; but merely resting on her head, as if she wished to bless her. Hermione was about to flinch when the healer retreated, and giving her another placid smile, strode from her bedside; back, Hermione supposed to the fourth floor where she belonged.

She rolled in her bed for a while, then began writing a letter to Harry.

Amanda Morrow returned with Hermione\'s lunch. The healer was not surprised, but neither did she look knowingly at the young woman who sat attentively on the bed with her unruly hair plaited – almost as if she had been waiting for the healer to return.

Looking at the healer\'s eyes, she was angry to find there patience and understanding: Natalie, too, had those lying eyes, but her lips were pouted and stupid, like a teenaged girl\'s cherry mouth. Hence, she looked at Dr. Morrow\'s lips, and found only their long, narrow line; edges turned downward with impression of an infinite sorrow. And yet, in these scanty, severe lips was tenderness. By all means, they were shaped to seem bitter, but nonetheless; they weren\'t.

Hermione swallowed. \"The Fidelius Charm- I put it into use once I realized certain people…\" she breathed deeply. \"I\'d rather not beat around the bush. I received a letter from my parents, in which they told me they were about to take me out of school: I had, and have no intention of returning home. So as not to be found, a friend and I had activated the Fidelius Charm, and I ran away. If I am to remove the charm, any time in the future, will you promise me I won\'t be returned to my parents\' custody?\"

\"Is there a reason you should not be returned to their custody?\"

She glared at the healer, who scrutinized her with a wise, somewhat distant gaze.

\"Yes, there is,\" Hermione said at last. \"The reason is because I said so.\"

\"Making subtle ultimatums is not a good basis for a patient-therapist relationship,\" Amanda noted.

She shook her head. \"I\'m sorry, but I have no choice. You\'ll have to promise me not to contact my parents, if you wish me to remove the Fidelius Charm.\"

\"Do you realise… Jane, it is in your best interest to receive proper treatment?\" But the healer sighed. \"I already gave my promise to Professor Snape. Neither your parents, nor Hogwarts School will be contacted during your hospitalization unless you wish them to be. I might ask you to reconsider it sometime in the future, though. Would you please tell me your name, now?\"

Hermione took a steadying breath, tears glazing her eyes at the mention of his name. The last thing he did for her… making sure she was protected, saving her this fight, when she was already lying injured on the floor, with this lovely woman towering above her, counting the seconds before her system failed and she burst into tears. She moistened her lips. \"I am Hermione Granger- Since I may be staying here for a while, I would appreciate it very much if you\'ll send for my things from Hogwarts…\" she frowned. \"It also appears I should remove the Fidelius- proper removal demands the presence of both the Secret Keeper and the subject… would I be allowed to receive visitors, then?\"

Amanda considered this for a while. \"Technically, you are supposed to be isolated to the ward for the first week, after which you\'re allowed to receive visitors in the ward, after they have been sworn to secrecy. It would, indeed, be problematic for us to proceed with the evaluation process without the charm removed, but in your weakened condition, I don\'t see us getting much work done in this period of time any way. Therefore, I think I\'d rather stick to the procedure and wait for the charm\'s removal. Once this week is over, you may invite your friend and remove the Fidelius.\"

It had been several hours now since she arrived on the ward: too frail to walk so she had to sit on her ER bed, while Amanda had levitated it. The bedrooms and the living room were quiet at this time of the day, with the teenagers all eating their lunch in the dining room, too busy levitating food at each other and making noisy conversation to notice the newcomer. Amanda showed her to her new room, which she would be sharing with the girl named Chloe Nott, and after helping her to the four poster bed, left Hermione to herself.

She had fallen asleep not long after; cool, breathing air kissing her face, preventing her from being swept back into the fairies realms. Thus, in her calmed, undisturbed sleep, she was unaware of the curious faces hovering above her. Nor did she hear the hushed, preaching voices shooing them out of the room. …All the garden gnomes peeking from their dens, glancing at the invader…

And now, with Dr. Morrow at her side, she watched as Chloe Nott stalked out of what appeared to be their joint room. The strange, scary face of a hollow-eyed boy stared at her from the door and as quickly disappeared. She finally began to realize where she had landed.

Amanda, following her gaze, looked at the boy. \"This is Jervy. Come here, Jervy,\" she called, summoning the boy with a wide, welcoming gesture of her arm. \"Say hello to the new girl.\"

\"N…new g-girl?\" Hermione heard a weak, nasal voice, coming from just outside the door. Like the pale, murky eyes of the scrawny thing which was the boy, she loathed the voice at once, yet could not explain her automatic revulsion. Dr. Morrow, who sensed her repulsion, seemed determined to ignore it.

\"A new girl,\" the healer repeated. \"And she\'d really like to meet you. Now come here, darling.\"

\"All-allright,\" mumbled Jervy. And then again, a heavy looking head appeared at the doorway; a pair of huge, hollow eyes staring at Hermione behind a lattice made of bent, twisted fingers. In disgust, she noted a trickle of spit clinging to the edge of Jervy\'s mouth.

\"Hi!\" called a loud voice that instantly made Hermione shrink – a kick in the guts, inflicting pain which was empirical, something to make her bite her lower lip: substantially different than the shudder caused by Jervey\'s hollow gaze. \"The Flobberworm is making new friends!\"

\"Stuff it, Lindsey,\" this voice, however, she recognized- it belonged to the girl, Chloe. The one who was doomed never to leave St. Mungo\'s: her roommate, who read Kant and Adams and Reilly… \"Jerv is my friend,\" Chloe continued. \"And if you won\'t learn to keep your mouth shut when it comes to him, I\'ll make it my business to see that your stay here will be as miserable as possible, so be careful-\"

\"Hi, hi,\" the other, feminine voice lowered in a protective manner. \"No need to get so stressed. Didn\'t know he\'s with you, that\'s all.\"

\"And if not for me?\" Hermione could hear Chloe answer, her gaze trailing to meet Amanda\'s glowing eyes. \"What would you do then?\" Chloe went on. \"Bully him because he\'s weak? Because he can\'t protect himself? Does it make you feel stronger, Lindsey? Does it make you feel better about yourself?\"

\"Oh, just shut up!\" the other girl erupted, \"you disabled freak! Go and hang around with your demented little pet!\"

At that, the two women in the hospital bedroom, one young and one older, could hear the sharp, ringing sound of a palm meeting a soft cheek, followed by loud, assertive footsteps. A moment later, Chloe Nott once again appeared in the doorway, and winding her arms around Jervy\'s neck, gave a daring look at Hermione. \"Hello, new girl. I\'m Chloe, this is Jerv. We\'re friends; he hangs around here quite a lot. If you mind him, I suggest you get yourself another room.\"

\"Chloe-\" Amanda began.

The tall girl, swinging her hair behind her shoulders, tightened her lips. \"Jervy\'s my friend. I won\'t have a roommate who won\'t have Jerv.\"

\"F-friends,\" echoed the smaller boy, raising his hand to touch Chloe\'s arm. A crooked, peculiar smile touched the corners of his mouth, and for a moment, he almost seemed real, with a trace of expression tinting his weird, elfin face. Then the smile was gone and all that was left was the spittle trickling down his chin; a juicy droplet landing on Chloe\'s sleeve. Worrying her lower lip with a feeling she could not identify, Hermione watched the other girl pulling a handkerchief out of her robe pocket and turning the boy to look at her.

Her brow furrowing with concentration, Chloe twisted the fine cambric around her index finger, and lifting her hand, gently wiped Jervy\'s mouth clean, making sure there was no more drool trickling from the soft, slack lips.

\"Well,\" Chloe stressed, their eyes meeting across the room as the curly headed girl folded the cambric kerchief and put it back in her pocket. \"Jerv\'s a fine companion, right, Jervy?\"

\"S-sure,\" repeated the boy, nodding toward Hermione with his hollow eyes. \"Jervy\'s friends w-w-with…\" a muscle near his left eye twitched several times. \"F-friends with Chloe… I love Chloe very much.\"

\"And Chloe loves you back,\" the tall girl reassured him. \"So will the new girl, right?\"

Hermione was afraid of Chloe\'s desperate determination. Afraid of Jervy\'s disability, Jervy\'s drool, and above all, of his hollow eyes – when she tried looking into the two black holes, set where normal human eyes where supposed to be looking back at her, she could see her worst nightmares coming true: disabled, dependent, stupefied. And even so, in the two of them curled together- two permanently invalid people; two of God\'s step-children, there was a certain beauty, a certain holiness. They were both shining, in spite and because of their horrible, irreparable damage. And as Jervy\'s eyes were hollow, Chloe\'s eyes were deep, animated and resonant. And with these eyes clinging to hers, Hermione found herself nodding.