Scars That Heal (Dramione Fanfiction) [COMPLETE]

9 - Support

It took nearly a week before Hermione had the chance to speak with Hagrid. She had been forced to undertake more Prefect duties as Seamus had been injured in a Herbology lesson, which had eaten away at her time: Neville had been teaching the class how to re-pot a Throttling Bush, but unfortunately Dean and Seamus hadn't been paying enough attention to it and it had attempting to strangle the latter person. That meant Hermione had to undertake another three duties and then Dean had insisted on staying with Seamus in the Hospital Wing while he recovered, abandoning his own duties. Hermione had to pick up the slack - not that she blamed either of them - and it had left her with very little free time. Seamus hadn't been hurt badly, but there was enough bruising around his throat to persuade Madam Pomfrey that he required a full week to recover.

On a cold Friday afternoon, after some challenging lessons, Hermione went to see Hagrid, taking with her the book on giants. He greeted her warmly, and ushered her inside for some tea and biscuits. They were homemade almond shortbreads that resembled breeze blocks in both size and texture. To avoid broken teeth, Hermione apologised and explained she had eaten plenty at supper.

"Never mind me, 'ow are you, 'ermione?" Hagrid asked, looking at her intently. He knew her well, and Hermione felt she couldn't tell him it was all fine when it clearly wasn't.

"It's not easy," she sighed, "And I can see how many people have suffered as a result of this war. I shan't name names, but I know a few students who are having nightmares - including myself - and there are so many others who have had relatives or friends die. It's been such a change to get used to, and I really, really  miss Harry and Ron. I just can't get used to everything. Sometimes it feels too much." Hagrid smiled sympathetically.

"Well, I can't say I disagree there. Surely there's somethin' you can do to help all these people? I mean, I don' wan' ter suggest things you can't deliver on, but per'aps you could organise some kind of suppor' group? Obviously if it's too much trouble, don't. I know you've got lots ter do anyways, but it migh' be worth suggestin' to Professor Clark. She understands what ter do as a teacher, but not necessarily as a carer. Think on it, 'ermione."

They sat in a contemplative silence for a few minutes, stirring and sipping their mugs of tea. As she shuffled in her chair, Hermione felt the book on her lap and remembered why she had originally come.

"Oh, and I did the research you wanted me to," she exclaimed, holding up the book. Hagrid looked delighted, and asked her to share all she had discovered. In as much detail as she could Hermione explained about the desire for destruction in most giants, but also about how some felt deep remorse at injury of humans and the withdrawal they went through as a result. She told him about how most giants don't feel this, but some do and it causes them great pain. By the time she had finished, Hagrid's dark eyes were swimming with tears.

"He never wanted to 'urt them. He got caught up in it, and he was made ter do it. We needed him, that's the thing. We'd never 'ave won if we 'adn't 'ad some brute strength agains' all o' them. I wish I could 'ave protected 'im better, tha's all."

Hermione had no idea how to comfort him, so she just sat patting his arm until he had the courage to wipe away his tears and smile weakly. "He did it for a good cause, though. An' it'd be so much worse if we 'adn't sacrificed things for the war. We jus' 'ave to keep tellin' ourselves that."

***

That weekend Hermione made her mind up to speak to Professor Clark about the possibility of a support group, and - as Dean reminded her persistently - about the upcoming Quidditch matches. They needed to know about the Captain for the Gryffindor team, and the final dates for the first interhouse matches. After some time revising her Potions homework and going through the criteria for her Transfiguration exam in May, Hermione noticed her psychology books lying on the bedside table next to her bed. She put down the textbook she had been reading and grabbed the top one on the pile. It was one of the two she hadn't read yet, titled Translate Your Mind. Skimming the blurb, Hermione could see that it was about understanding the messages we get from our brains and how we should react to these urges and emotions.