Hermione Granger and the Bastet Collar

Every thought led her back to what had happened. She didn't want to think about what had happened, so she tried not to think. She had resigned from Hogwarts with as few words as possible, left with an inverse amount of fanfare to that with which she had entered it.

Centaurs. Filthy creatures. Monsters. Their hands all over her, touching her.

She stared into the mirror sometimes. She looked dazed, blasted. Her hair never looked quite right. Her clothing never felt as secure as it had. She didn't fit into society quite the same way. She dreamed of horses and awoke, screaming and covered in sweat.

Throbbing with desires and needs she had never consented to.

How had all this begun? With the boy-who-lived? With the Malfoy's child telling her of Hermione? Perhaps when the little Weasley chit had mentioned the Bastet Collar?

Delores had very few friends. So few people could meet her exacting standards, and she liked to think that was because all of them were filled with flaws. They did not like being corrected, did not like being proper.

It was so hard to be proper now.

Her friends were not the ones that checked her into St. Mungo's. It was her neighbours, who could hear her yelling, who were tired of her jumping at shadows and sometimes attacking them by mistake.

She couldn't talk about what had been done to her, so deep was her trauma. The healers had whispered soothing words to her, calmed her down, explained that there were other methods of helping people come to terms with the circumstances that had broken him.

Delores Umbridge was not surprised at all when they clasped the Bastet Collar around her neck.

///

Hermione invited Ginny to come spend the summer with her.

It was the least she could do. The Weasley elders were happy to have their youngest out from underfoot – there was a lot of talking to be done between them and Percy, now that the wizarding world had come to terms with the return of Voldemort. The Muggle world seemed as safe a place as any for a young witch.

Hermione's parents were going to be gone most of the summer, working at dentistry workshops all over Europe. They were happy to leave their gifted and independent daughter to her own devices, and perfectly content to let her have a friend over during that time.

They knew their daughter. Responsible, respectful, reliable.

Her parents would not have known how to react to this.

Ginny had put the collar around her neck as soon as they were alone. Hermione was naked, but she was Hermione, a person dealing with trauma. There was none of the abuse that Umbridge had inflicted on her, just quiet words and gentle touches, soothing warmth.

She settled, the pains of her fifth year at Hogwarts vanishing under Ginny's loving care.

“It's for the best I'm not there,” Ginny said, sighing as she stroked Hermione's hair. “Percy might let something slip, and then what would I do? All that work for nothing.”

Hermione wasn't sure what she meant and had no way to ask. Ginny made a handful of other off-color remarks like that, but none of them stuck in Hermione's mind. What did was the why that Ginny helped her rediscover her will and curiosity, just how bright she really was.

“We're both going to be fine,” Ginny promised her. “We'll be sisters. And I'll have Harry and you. Trust me, Hermione, we're going to be excellent.”

Hermione nuzzled Ginny's hand, believing her completely.