Warning: This chapter contains violent imagery. Skip past the part in italics to get to the safe part of the post.

Chapter 7: The Ghosts

Hermione thought her harsh breathing sounded unbearably loud to her own ears and she was surprised the pounding of her heart didn't give her away. The ground beneath her was crumbling and unsteady. The castle shuddered around her as another explosion rocked it. She needed to leave before it collapsed around her, but she had to find them first.

She tried to call out to them, but her voice didn't want t cooperate. The area seemed mercifully devoid of Deatheaters for which she was grateful. But she couldn't find who she was looking for!

She stumbled and when she looked to see what she had stepped on, her mouth dropped in horror. Lavender was staring up at her with a pained expression still on her face. Instead of the minor scratches, there was a gaping wound where her throat had been. Hermione thought she would throw up, but she simply pressed forward.

It only got worse. Parvati was next, then Dean and Seamus looked like they'd been ripped apart by a wild animal. Ginny and Luna were small in death, but it had at least looked like they hadn't suffered. Neville and Ron were a different story and Hermione almost fell on her knees and vomited.

The entire Weasley clan was strewn about, each of their faces contorted in torture. Their bodies every which way, hanging over the edges of ruined walls or slumping down stairs. Hermione was looking all around her, her knees shaking and tears running down her face. "Noooo," She cried and grabbed her hair in futility.

She saw movement over a pile of rubble and started climbing, struggling against the uneven footing.

"Harry!" He didn't turn to face her. His eyes were fixed on Voldemort and even from this distance she could see tears streaming down his face. "Harry!" She fumbled for her wand. Where was it!?

He finally seemed to notice her, but she saw him grimace in despair and shake his head at her.

"You can kill him, Harry! You can do it! End it!"

"Why? Everyone's dead," Harry replied, looking again at Voldemort who appeared to be casting the killing curse in slow motion.

"I'm alive, Harry! I'll help you fight him!" If only she could find her wand!

"No," Harry said with a shake of his head. "You're just taunting me. Or don't you realize?"

"Realize what?"

"You're dead, too!"

The killing curse hit him. Hermione screamed. Then she heard shrill, shrieking laughter that caused her to shiver in fear. It echoed all around her and she clapped her hands to her ears.

Then Bellatrix Lestrange walked out with a maniacal grin and shouted, "Crucio!"

"Nooooooo," Hermione sat bolt upright, grabbing the wand off her desk, and sent a cutting curse through the canopy of her bed, causing it to fall in her face. "Aaah!"

"Hermione, Hermione!"

She struggled against the fabric and the bed sheets and finally toppled out the side of her bed, breathing heavily with Parvati and Lavender standing by her side.

"Are you alright?" Lavender asked, holding out a hand for her to grab.

"Y-yes, I'm fine," Hermione replied, grabbing it and pulling herself up.

"That was your worst dream this week. What happened?"

Hermione felt sweaty and weak after the dream, trembling as though she had just recovered from a terrible sickness. She didn't answer at first, merely vigorously wiping away the tears on her cheeks. Then pushed her way through them and headed straight to the washroom. The cool water felt like heaven against her scorching hot skin and she finally felt her breathing even out as the water dripped her face. Once she cleaned herself up, she walked back to her friends like a child who was about to be punished.

"I'm sorry, girls. I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's alright, Hermione. Merlin knows you must've seen some horrible things last year. Besides, I woke you up last night, too."

"I know and I really appreciate it, it's just.."

"This is five times in the last week," Lavender finished.

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Lav, be nice," Parvati replied. "None of us are sleeping well!"

Although Hermione kept herself busy to the point where she could go straight to sleep, she had woken up more than once in the night to one of the other girls sobbing quietly. She wondered if anyone else in the castle was suffering in the same way. Don't be stupid. Of course they are, she thought to herself, but she could help but feel alone. The other students at Hogwarts had all suffered together, but she was the only one who took part in the Horcrux hunt and knew the stakes.

"Look, Hermione, you said you might go to one of the mind healers, right? Well, Padme wanted some closure on a few of her friends and she went to the woman, Galatea. She said it really helped. Maybe you should go too."

"I almost forgot about them," Hermione replied with a watery chuckle. "I've just been so busy."

"I think learning is how you cope," Parvati said with a smile.

"It's not doing enough."

"You'll get through this. We'll all get through this."

"Thanks. Sorry, girls. I'll try not to wake you up the rest of the night."

Lavender went to bed with quiet grumbling, but she thought she saw a slightly guilty look on her face.

Hermione obediently lay down and the pulled the covers up, but she didn't sleep for some time after repairing the canopy in her bed.

She had a free period on Monday morning before Charms and decided to take the opportunity to at least see the counselor. Their offices were located on the sixth floor, down the hall from the Charms course, so she took her books and bag to attend. She was just down the hall from the offices when she felt the bottom fall out of her stomach. Peeve had somehow gotten ahold of paint and was now merrily splattering the corridor with a rainbow of colors.

Just what I need, she thought, but she raised her chin up and made sure her hand was on her wand. I should be forgiven for defending myself against Peeves.

Once she approached close enough for Peeves to notice her, she was shocked when he jumped in fright at seeing her.

"Miss Grangy!" He attempted to hide the cans behind his back and tried for an innocent grin. "Peeves wasn't doing anything."

"Peeves, if you try to paint me, I'll make you rue the day," she said as she carefully tiptoed past the mess. If she were braver, she would attempt to make him clean it himself, but she wasn't willing to push her luck any further.

"No need, Grangy, no need. Peevesy not paint you."

Hermione got past and battled not to glance back for fear of getting a face full of paint. Dealing with Peeves was like dealing with volatile chemicals; it may very well blow up in her face. She did wonder though at the change in his treatment of her. He was horrid to everybody except the Professors, presumably because they know how to deal with him. So why this sudden newfound respect? She thought back to the morning Voldemort was defeated and recalled Peeves zooming singing about 'Moldy Voldy' and wondered if perhaps her role in ending the Dark Lord had something to do with this. No matter, she would count her blessings where she found them.

Hermione noticed the name Galatea Capella – Mind Healer gleamed from a gold placard on an open door and she stepped up to it, to peer in, wishing to evaluate the situation first. She could not see the Mind Healer from the angle provided, but the room appeared to have been decorated in bright tapestries. Incense was burning, but unlike Trelawney's attic where everything was boiling hot and suffocating, the smell of lavender floated through, which she breathed in and sighed in happiness. Finally, she knocked.

A dark head poked out from around the wall and then walked over with a smile. "Hello there! Please do come in," Healer Capello said as Hermione entered into the room nervously. She had never had caused to speak to a psychologist before, not that she could have being a witch, so she was glad to hear that the wizarding world kept up with at least some of the muggle advances into psychiatry. She waited patiently for Hermione to acquaint herself to the room and then held out a hand. "I'm Galatea Capello. I'm one of the mind healers at Hogwarts."

"Hermione Granger," she replied. From the knowing look on the healer's face, the woman clearly already knew who she was, but it was nice not to be reminded of her accomplishments last year with Harry.

"Nice to meet you, Hermione. Is there anything I can do for you?"

She didn't answer right away, studying the healer with interest. She was a middle-aged witch with laughter wrinkles and dark hair, but what struck Hermione odd was that he woman was wearing muggle clothes as opposed to a witch's robe. Just a pair of jeans and a sky blue long-sleeved shirt, but compared to the sea of black robes Hermione was used to, it seemed odd.

"Well…yes. I am a muggleborn, so I'm very familiar with the concepts behind mind healing. In the muggle world we call it psychiatry."

The witch nodded in understanding and when she saw Hermione's puzzled expression, she said, "I actually have a Doctorate in Psychiatry from a muggle University. From the Queen Mary University of London, actually."

"Really? May I ask why you went into the profession? I have to admit, it's something I expected the wizarding world to be a little bit behind on."

"To be fair to your assumptions…it still is. My field is a relatively new branch. It's even taken some time for St. Mungos to take us seriously."

Hermione frowned. "That's such a shame. I know the field of psychiatry keeps expanding and growing in the muggle world."

"Yes, my colleagues and I have had to work hard providing research to receive any kind of credibility from the Wizengamot. Persuading Headmistress McGonagall to see a need at Hogwarts is quite possibly our largest milestone. I really hope that we can provide a much needed service to the students here. Now, to answer your original question, my father was a wizard who fought in World War II against Grindelwald. I saw how the war changed him, but there weren't any real services available to him. The mind healers at St. Mungos just kept trying to work with him using Dreamless Sleep and Calming Draughts. Now, my mother was a muggle and she kept suggesting my father see a therapist. But it would be considered a breach of the International Statute of Secrecy. I saw a need and I decided to fill it."

"Oh my. I hope your father received the treatment that he needed."

"He eventually did, but I wish it had come sooner for him. Now, enough about me; were you looking for something in particular?"

"Well…" Hermione fumbled for the create words and finally said, "As I'm sure you're aware, I was at the Battle of Hogwarts last May. I've been having very disturbing dreams. In some ways I feel lighter than I've ever been since starting at Hogwarts, but…I can't seem to shake these…ghosts."

"Would you like to take a seat?"

Hermione glanced around from the pair of chairs at the desk to the two sofas. "Where?"

"Wherever you'll be most comfortable. Some of my guests even sit on the floor."

Unlike the rest of Hogwarts, a lovely plush carpet in a dark shade of blue stretched across the room. It certainly was nice on her, but she instead pulled out the chair at the desk and the healer to the chair behind the desk. Now that her attention had been brought back to the room again, she noticed a fluffy calico cat lounging on the top of a book shelf and then there was a box full of various magical creatures that had been animated to move, like Harry's model Hungarian Horntail dragon.

"May I ask, what exactly do you mean by ghosts?"

"Not real ghosts, if that's what you're thinking. I just…I walk around Hogwarts and sometimes I can still see where the walls crumbled and where I saw blood splatters or…or bodies. Even though the threat is gone, I don't feel safe here like I used to," Hermione replied in a small voice and at the same time silently sighed in relief. That was what had been bothering her, she was sure of it. Years one through six, Hogwarts had seemed impregnable. Like the greatest army in the world would simply splash against its side, leaving the building not only standing, but unharmed. Yet, brick by brick, Voldemort and his Death Eaters had torn the building apart, murdering people and destroying their hiding spaces like it was a sand castle.

The castle had been rebuilt, but she could see where the new stone met the old. Hogwarts no longer felt like a testament to time, but like a fractured building cobbled together not unlike the Burrow. The evil was gone, but the scars of the past still ran deep.

"I'm very sorry to hear that, Hermione. Is there anything in particular you think that could be done to make you feel safer?"

"I – I'm not sure. Returning back to the routine of school has helped. I know that Voldemort is dead" – she ignored the healer's sudden flinch – "and now all of his followers are in prison, but that hasn't made it any better."

"Of course. You have to deal with a very difficult change. These things take time," the healer said quietly.

Hermione chuckled rather darkly. "I, better than most, are aware of that, but all I want is to be able to move on from this as quickly as possible. I want to put this behind me and get on with my life."

"Unfortunately, these things can't usually be rushed."

They both started out of their talk when the bell range, signaling the period had ended. "Oh, I better go. I have class. Thank you for taking the time to speak to me Healer Capello."

"It was nice meeting you, Hermione. And please, you can call me Galatea or Gala if that makes you comfortable."

Author's Note: I would like to apologize again for the lateness of this chapter. Unfortunately, my life has been turned upside down over the last week and this story has taken a much lower priority. That said, I will continue writing it and try to keep up the weekly updates.

Enjoy!