Mindgames
By FenrisWolf
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Disclaimer - Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling, not me. Damn it.
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Impure.
Trash.
Mudblood.
Hermione sat hunched in her favorite hiding place at the back of the library, the tears rolling down her cheeks as she struggled with the voices that were making her life a living hell. And what made it truly horrible was that it wasn't the insults of small-minded pureblood bigots that were tormenting her, but her own insecurities fixating on those insults and repeating them over and over, until she could no longer protect herself from the pain. She'd been sure that those personal demons had finally been exorcised by the friendship and, yes, love she'd found in the Wizarding world, but lately they'd been back, gnawing at her self-confidence, and she didn't know what to do.
Hermione had never allowed anyone to realize just how deeply those names wounded her. Not her parents who were saddened by her lack of friends her own age, not her teachers who saw how she was ostracized by her peers, and not the guidance counselors who tried to get her to talk about her problems. That was of course in the days before her Hogwarts letter arrived, and she learned just what it was that made her so different from her schoolmates.
She'd never talked to her friends about her school days before Hogwarts, how she had been the loner, the outcast. Bookworm. Brainiac. Teacher's Pet. She'd hated being different, but she'd refused to let the jealous words of her peers make her do one whit less than her best. Nor had it helped that she'd always felt different, even more than her intelligence accounted for.
When Professor McGonagall had shown up with her Hogwarts letter and explained that she was a witch, she'd been so happy. Finally there was an explanation as to why she didn't fit in, finally there was going to be a place where she belonged. She'd devoured every magical book she could get her hands on, determined that she wouldn't make any mistakes that would brand her as different. She wanted to embrace her new world, and have her new world embrace her.
Then the day came to board the Hogwarts Express for the first time. She'd been a bit nervous, but Professor McGonagall had met her and her parents at the station and shown them the way onto Platform 9¾. She'd known from reading 'Hogwarts: A History' that the students traveled by themselves on the train, a sort of rite of passage, but she hadn't been worried; how could she be, when she was now part of this wonderful, magical world?
And then she'd met Malfoy.
She'd been working her way through the car, looking for an empty seat, when she'd come face-to-face with the platinum-haired, sharp-faced boy. He'd looked her up and down with an air of superiority and drawled, "I don't recall having met you before. I'm Draco Malfoy," he paused as if expecting her to react to his name.
Hermione smiled, determined to get started on the right foot. "I'm very pleased to meet you, Draco; my name is Hermione Granger," she replied, holding out her hand.
The boy ignored her gesture, his eyes narrowing. "Granger; that's not a Wizarding name."
"Well, no," Hermione admitted. "My parents are Muggles. I'm the first witch in our family."
An expression of disgust appeared on Malfoy's face. "Another Mudblood," he sneered. "Father was right, Hogwarts is going to the dogs." With that he turned and stalked away, leaving her with her dreams of being accepted in tatters.
~~~~~
She'd never told anyone about that experience, not her parents, not her Head of House, and certainly not her two best friends. Hermione knew how mad they got on her behalf just on general principle, she was afraid of what they might do if they knew how badly the insults cut at her. Ron was bad enough, with his fiery, Weasley temper, but at least he flashed hot and exploded, spending his rage quickly. Harry's anger was different, slower to build, and far, far darker. She didn't know if it was something he'd been born with, or whether it was the result of all the events that had shaped his life, but there was something dangerous buried deep inside him, something he kept tightly leashed. She knew how hard he'd had to fight to keep that frayed leash from breaking at times, and she didn't want to be the source of the reason he went over the edge.
So she'd kept that first meeting locked inside, even after encountering Harry and Ron, even after becoming their friends. She'd soon found out that not everyone felt that way about Muggleborns, that in fact there was only a very small minority that subscribed to Pureblood bigotry, but though she knew it intellectually, the emotional shock of that first contact with someone her own age in the Wizarding world had scarred her deeply.
Most of the time she was able to hide it; one didn't survive being different in a British primary school without learning to hide one's feelings behind a mask. But sometimes, when she was very tired, or stressed over school or her friends (or especially Harry), the mask cracked, and at those times she was vulnerable.
Today had been one of those days. NEWTs were just past, and while she knew she'd done well on all of them, it didn't change the fact that passing the tests meant that their time at Hogwarts was almost over. Hermione was too intelligent to pretend that the end of school wouldn't irrevocably change their lives, their relationships, and that the bonds they had formed in school would not necessarily last into adulthood. More than once while growing up she had heard her parents talk about friends they had known in school, friends they had drifted apart from when they went on to graduate school. Intellectually Hermione knew that such changes were a perfectly normal part of growing up, that childhood friendships often drifted apart in later years as people moved on to adult interests and adult friends. What scared her was knowing that some bonds formed in childhood never changed, that they were strong enough to last a lifetime, and she was afraid that the one she treasured most might be one-sided. Just because he said he loved her, didn't mean it would be forever.
No one had been more surprised than Hermione when her relationship with Harry changed. They'd always been close; the best of friends, but that was when the Trio was still inseparable. That had changed over the summer between their sixth and seventh years, after Ron had become involved with Luna Lovegood towards the end of term. Hermione was happy for them; Ron's feelings for Luna had developed a whole new level of maturity in his behavior, and Luna's love for him seemed to anchor her more firmly in the reality the rest of them shared. But with Ron and Luna a couple, the dynamic that had kept Harry and Hermione apart no longer existed, and after a bit of fumbling while they both dealt with their insecurities, they'd admitted to the feelings they'd been denying for so long.
She'd dithered about telling her parents of the change in her relationship, and then been completely dumfounded when her mother asked her when she was going to introduce her boyfriend to her parents. Apparently her feelings for Harry had been far more evident to them than they were to her, and when their relationship had finally changed the Drs. Granger had spotted it immediately. Harry's experiences with the Weasleys notwithstanding, growing up with the Dursleys had left him completely unprepared for the warmth with which Hermione's parents welcomed him, but after a few awkward conversations that both terrified and embarrassed both the young lovers, they all got along famously.
~~~~~
Her reverie was interrupted by the sound of a chair scraping across the floor next to her. She looked up and smiled into the worried face of her boyfriend. "Hello, Harry," she said softly, mindful of where they were.
"Why weren't you at dinner, Hermione?" he asked, his voice showing his concern. "I've been looking all over the place for you."
She glanced at the library clock and saw that it was past 8:00. "Oh, dear; I'm sorry, Harry, I was studying, and I suppose I lost track of time again."
"Mm-hmm," he said, his tone clearly disbelieving. "Hermione, you haven't even taken your books out of your bag," he pointed out, causing her to blush. "Besides, this isn't the table Hermione-in-study-mode uses, she sits over there by the reference section. This is the table that Hermione-is-unhappy sits at, where she thinks no one will find her." He smiled slightly as she gaped at him in surprise. "What? Are you supposed to be the only one who can analyze things?" He snorted as she continued to stare at him. "Hermione, the smartest witch in Hogwarts is my girlfriend; I had to start using my brain, if only in self-defense." He smiled as he got a small laugh out of her. "That's better. Now, do you want to tell me what's bothering you? This is the third time I've had to track you down this week."
"I'm just wound up over our NEWTs, Harry; how well we do on them affects our whole future, you know."
Harry frowned, but didn't contradict her. The actual tests were over, and if there was one thing he knew about Hermione, it was that while she could turn into an obsessive study fanatic right before an exam, once it was past she quickly returned to normal, or what was normal for her, at any rate. Whatever was bothering her, it was more than that, but obviously he was going to have to find out what it was some other way.
He cleared his throat. "I was wondering if you wanted to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend? It'll be our last chance before graduation, and we should make the most of it."
"I-I don't know if I can, Harry; I really have a lot to do this weekend," she demurred, refusing to meet his eyes.
"Hermione? What's wrong?"
"OH! Oh my, look at the time! I'm sorry Harry, I'll talk to you later, all right?" And before he could think up a reply she'd gathered her books and papers and rushed away.
He watched as she hurried out of the library, his eyes darkening when he saw a group of girls snickering at her as she passed by. The Hermione he knew shrugged such behavior off as a matter of course, but today he could see it get to her, watched her shoulders hunch a bit more as she flinched from the gossipers.
Harry felt his temper start to do a slow burn. He knew all too well about his girlfriend's insecurities; in many ways, they mirrored his own. It was one of the many reasons they worked so well together as a couple, because they helped each other overcome their doubts and fears, complementing each other's strengths and weaknesses. He knew she was worried about how leaving Hogwarts would affect their lives, but he thought they'd come to terms with that. She hadn't been like this since the end of sixth year, just before they'd become a couple. If she was acting this way now, then someone was helping it along, and by Merlin, when he found them, they were going to pay.
~~~~~
Hermione dropped her book bag on the floor of the Head Girl's room and collapsed on her bed, burying her face in her pillows. She knew Harry loved her, she did, but more and more that voice whispered to her, telling her she wasn't good enough for him.
Bookworm.
Plain Jane.
Mudblood.
It was several minutes before she heard the knocking on her door. "Hermione? Are you all right?"
She scrubbed at her face. "I'm fine, Harry," she called. "I'm just a little tired is all."
"Hermione, please, can I come in?"
She got up from the bed, her hands clenched nervously. "I really just want to take a nap, Harry, we can talk later."
"Alohamora." Her door swung inward and Harry stood there, a concerned look on his face. "Hermione, please, don't shut me out. It doesn't work; if anyone knows that, it's me." She turned her back to him and he stepped up behind her, slipping his arms around her waist. He felt her tense against his embrace, and pulled her closer to him. "Has someone been bothering you again? Because if they have--"
She shook her head, trying to hold back the tears. "No, Harry, no one's been doing anything. I'm just-it's just that-" Suddenly she pulled herself out of his grasp and ran into the bathroom, sobbing.
Harry groaned, collapsing onto Hermione's bed. He didn't know what was going through his girlfriend's mind, but he was going to stay right there until they sorted it out.
Mudblood.
His eyes snapped open and he jerked up in bed. Where the hell had that come from? It sounded like Hermione's voice echoing in his head, but he knew she'd never use that word. Eyes narrowed, he looked around for a moment, but when nothing else happened he stretched out again.
The second his head touched her pillows, it happened again.
Brainiac.
Impure.
Cursing, Harry shot up and dug through the bedding. Nothing caught his attention until he came to the small, lace-trimmed cushion he'd given her for Valentine's Day. She'd been complaining about having a hard time falling asleep, and he'd charmed it with spells to help her get a good's night rest. Now, though, it radiated something else, something that had nothing to do with the spells he'd put on it. Pulling his wand, he passed it over the fabric. "Revealo." The pillow glowed a soft pink, but there was a dull knot of poisonous green pulsing from the center.
Harry's eyes flickered with rage as he dug into the padding, exposing the small packet at its center. It was about the size of a Galleon, a lumpy bundle of something black and leathery, with an oily sheen reminded him strongly of the Lethifold he'd once seen. Blood red runes crawled its surface in obscene patterns, and Dark magic radiated from it like the miasma rising from a rotting swamp.
With an oath of disgust he hurled it down onto the desk. "Obstrictus candifico lux!" A quick pass of his wand and a brief incantation bound the worst of curse within itself. For good measure he cast revealing charms over the rest of the room, finding nothing further, and then cast a purification spell over Hermione's bed to remove any lingering traces of the curse.
By the time he was finished he realized that the sound of his girlfriend crying in the bathroom had finally quieted. After a deep, calming breath he approached the door and knocked. "Hermione, please, come out."
"Go away, Harry, I don't want to talk right now."
"Hermione, either you are coming out or I'm coming in. Now please, open the door."
After a few seconds the door swung open and Hermione stood there, her eyes red from crying. Before she could speak his arms were around her, holding her close, showing her the only way he knew that he loved her, and wasn't going anywhere. For a moment she resisted, staying stiff and unyielding in his arms, and then she collapsed against him, the tears starting anew. Gently he she shifted and scooped her up in his arms and carried her to where he could sit on the edge of her bed while she rested in his lap. He rocked her gently back and forth, giving her time to get it all out of her system.
Finally the tears quieted again, and she began to stir in his arms. He let her lean away from his embrace, but before she could speak he interrupted her, placing his hand gently over her mouth. "Before you say anything, there's something you have to see." He led her over to the desk and, using the tip of his wand, indicated the cushion and its tainted contents. "Someone's been tampering with your thoughts."
She stared at the offending object and gasped. She recognized the twisted markings from her Arithmancy classes, and no charm intended for good purposes would ever have borne them.
"When-who…?" Suddenly it all made sense; the doubts, the fears, the whispering voice that told her she wasn't good enough for him, all imposed on her from outside, playing on her own normal insecurities and magnifying them beyond her control. With a cry she struck the offending object from her desk, sending it flying across the room.
Harry pulled her close, and this time she didn't resist. "I don't know, not yet, but what's important is that we found it before it did any lasting harm." He tilted her head towards his and kissed her softly. "We did find it in time, didn't we?"
She hugged him fiercely. "I'm so sorry, Harry, I thought I was going mad. Everything was so wonderful, who doesn't worry when things are that good? I thought that's all it was, but the voices, the fears, they just kept getting stronger and stronger. I should've realized there was something wrong, but I never would have suspected something like that." She looked up at him, unconsciously biting her lower lip in that way that drove him crazy. "Can you forgive me for doubting you?"
He chuckled softly. "Hermione, how many times have you forgiven me for being complete prat over the years? And I didn't even have the excuse of having someone playing with my head-well, there's Voldemort, but that doesn't really count. He just wanted to kill me, not mess up my love life. You weren't being rude, or stubborn, or cruel, all things I've done at one time or another." He pecked her on the forehead. "So that makes, what, one for you and about a thousand for me? I don't think you have anything to worry about."
She smiled and held him close. "I really don't deserve you," she sighed.
"Well that's true, no woman could," he agreed, "but you come closer than most."
She gasped and smacked him in mock outrage. "Harry Potter, you are the most conceited--!"
He pulled her close and kissed her again. "If I'm conceited it's your fault. After all, only the greatest wizard in the world could possibly be good enough for you." He smiled as she melted against him. "You make me believe in myself, 'Mione. I can't imagine a life without you with me. Please, never doubt that."
She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his lips down to hers, and for a while, no words were necessary.
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