Hey precious,
Another day in sanity. I hope, at least. It´s a weird feeling, to know you were insane. Everybody looks at you strangely, every remark you make is contemplated closely, just in case you lose your mind again. Everybody stares at you, just because you used a simple spell.
Right oh, I got my wand back! The shrink said that I wasn´t allowed to do spells above OWL-level, because the department of illegal use of magic is breathing down on my neck. Oh yeah, my famed skills and mind are watched and observed. Closely, I dare say again. Damn, I can´t even object.
I shouldn´t have lost my mind so much over the things that happened. That is what everyone thinks. After all, what´s so horrible about being safely locked up in Hogwarts and researching while everyone else risks their neck in the field? I see it in their eyes, in the way they talk to me. The shrink does it, the nurses, sometimes even Ginny.
I can´t blame them, but after all they are not allowed to know. To know that I was there with Snape and Pomfrey, examining every damn corpse, looking for clues against the damn killing curse. Searching for hints and traces of new potions, cutting into the flesh of people I grew up with, I heard about, I never saw in my whole life. I know now that I´m no forensic doctor material.
Why hadn´t I told them? Well, firstly because I shouldn´t have been there. At all. Dumbledore thought my skills and talents would be helpful and I was proud about this. Too proud, I admit. A barely eighteen year old girl wasn´t supposed to spent her time with autopsies. Not even in times like those. The ministry would have gone rampant. This way I went, but no one cared then. No one but Snape, but it was too late then. He had to go. Dreamless sleep potion helped me fighting the nightmares every night. I think I overdid it. They say that the human brain can only cope a certain time without dreams, then the mind goes mad.
I know that now. I think I would be a good neuromediwitch, if I hadn´t had enough of sliced brains for all my life. The worst time was when I was alone. Snape gone in the field, Pomfrey tending the living. I was left for the dead. At the end I talked to them. They were my friends and shared my worries. The living were to far away for me to touch, so the dead took care of me.
Oh, but no one knows. Snape and Pomfrey keep silent, god knows how Dumbledore managed. I don´t remember much, but Pomfrey seemed searing with white hot anger when he found me.
It´s all blurry now, but I recall Snape coming in shouting that we won the war. I think I was sitting in my favorite corner with my favorite corpse, one of the Creevey brothers, talking with it. It must have been a horrible sight, me sitting there, looking as rotten as my "friends". You know, hygiene wasn´t my favorite past time back then, and neither was going out. Instead my growing resistance to dreamless sleep potion had forced me to compose my own sleeping draught. It was like being in coma, though I didn´t dream. And I did some brain stimulates too, to speed my research up. My brain was seriously damaged I think. No muggle would have been able to save me. The wizards were, but I don´t know if I should thank them.
Thinking back I think he was pretty as angry as Pomfrey. He seemed to shout something, he sweared probably. The next thing I know was waking in St. Mungus. Being nuts. They still come to me at nights. My friends.
I overheard Snape saying it was a wonder I didn´t die. The neglected tend to do, because no one cares, and only chance got me out. And my work. Isn´t it ironic? The potion I invented to isolate the soul of Voldemort saved us all. Including me. But to accomplish that, losing my mind and bringing myself on the brink of death was also necessary.
Still, I am the guilty part. Why did you have to ruin the festivities? The question appears in their eyes sometimes. In Harry´s as often as in Ron´s. They don´t understand.
No one would believe me anyway. I am mad, goddammit. Nobody believes a madwoman.
So, you know the truth. No dramatic captivity in the Malfoy dungeons, no raping, no Death Eater Revel has befallen me. No rescue could turn anyone to a hero. My sacrifice was worthless. I lost the war at the home front. Against myself and Albus Dumbledore.
-