Coping Mechanisms

29. Hermione

Hermione had known peace once, but no longer, misery overwhelmingly stealing its place. Nights were the worst, even more so than her solitary weekends. The moonstone on her nightstand continuously taunted her, its soft glow only highlighted by its likeness outside her window. Yet it was the only reprieve from the darkness that plagued her. Her bedroom felt cavernous, like a wide, gaping maw ready to swallow her whole. Her own thoughts were its teeth, waiting with patience to rip her apart in swift, easy motions. Her grief was a torturous beast, her loneliness its twin, and they thrived in the nights' shadows, mute and unavoidable. The quiet was no longer peaceful, but eerie and unsettling, her thoughts now too loud. She couldn't escape herself at night, not until sleep finally, and mercifully, pulled her under.

It took longer and longer each night to succumb.

Her insomnia was evident each morning by the purple stains beneath her eyes; they'd become as stark against her skin as her freckles. She'd inherited those freckles from her mother, and her now taut cheeks resembled that of her fathers.

Hermione stopped looking in mirrors for a while.

If Neville or Theo noticed her decline in appearance, they graciously kept it to themselves. The former kept her company in Herbology, the latter in Potion's, and there was far too much empty space in between. So Theo's visit to her dorm that first Saturday in October was a welcome respite.

She'd been mindlessly sitting on her couch, trying her best to ignore any and all images of a blonde next to her, when she'd heard a quick rap on her door. Hermione fumbled across the room, tension congesting her shoulders. Relief swept through her muscles immediately as she found Theo standing in the hall, his smile as broad and unwavering as ever.

"You busy?" he asked in lieu of greeting.

Hermione shook her head silently, averting his bright eyes. Theo simply chuckled.

"Then I'm here to kidnap you."

"Theo, I-"

"Ah!" he interrupted, holding up a hand. "No excuses."

Hermione's arms snaked around her stomach. "I'm not much in terms of company."

Theo's smile never faltered. "I can't think of anyone better to spend the afternoon with."

Hermione took a tepid look behind her, back into her lonely, monstrous room.

"Hermione," Theo persisted, his voice low and soft. "Please."

Hermione returned her gaze to his, nodding shyly, suddenly eager to escape the jaws snapping at her heels. "Okay."

She didn't look back, her wand and her robes still tucked away in her bedroom.

"You hungry?" Theo asked casually as the door clicked shut behind her.

"Not particularly."

"Humor me then," he winked, and Hermione wondered if it was really that evident she hadn't eaten since the night before. Anxiety crept up her limbs as they headed down to the first floor, all the while praying it was late enough after lunch that the Great Hall would be empty. Or at least, empty of everyone she'd been avoiding. Theo seemed to sense her discomfort though, as he did most of her moods, and threw one carefree arm around her shoulder.

"Don't worry," he said warmly, a comforting reflection of his body heat. "We aren't going in there." Countless voices drifted out of the dining hall as they walked past, and Hermione found herself too grateful of the avoidance to shrug off his embrace.

Theo instead led them down a neighboring corridor filled with paintings, all of them encased in weighty, ornate frames. Hermione watched as he looked all around them, checking that the hallway was empty before ushering her towards a painting of the Black Lake. His nimble fingers slid behind the frames' right edge, until Hermione heard an audible click.