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She Talks to Angels by ChantTaVie [Reviews - 11]


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Disclaimer: All things Harry Potter belong to J.K. Rowling and her people. “She Talks to Angels” belongs to the Black Crowes and their people. I have no people.

Authors Notes: Black Crowes “She Talks to Angels”
Lyrics found at http://www.lyricsfreak.com/b/black+crowes/she+talks+to+ Angels_20019180.html. This little yarn deals with some heavy subjects: most notably heroin addiction. If you or anyone you know is suffering from drug addiction, please refer them to the proper authorities. Also, this is un-beta’d, so all mistakes are mine.


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She Talks to Angels

She never mentions the word addiction
In certain company
Yeah, she’ll tell you she’s an orphan
After you meet her family.


To the other professors, she is still little miss perfect, little miss sunshine: Hermione Granger. They, however, don’t see her out after curfew in random spots around the castle, her favorite being the Astronomy Tower. They don’t see her using her red and gold tie to cut off the blood flow as she taps the skin at her elbow. They don’t watch her plunge a needle into a blue vein and inject…something. They don’t notice the pallor, the dark circles under her sunken eyes. They don’t notice the way she is rapidly losing weight and the way she shakes during the day.

After the war, every name, every incident, everything was printed in the Daily Prophet. Apparently the good doctors Granger subscribe. When Miss Granger was mentioned as having helped the Boy-Who-Triumphed to cast the final hex in the Final Battle, her parents became enraged. They never knew. They were never told their only daughter was fighting on the front lines of a war. They were angry with her for fighting. They were angry with Headmaster Dumbledore for allowing a “little girl, a baby” to fight in a war. They were angry at everyone for allowing a war. I don’t think the family ever came to terms.

She paints her hair as black as night now
Pulls those shades down tight
Yeah, she gives a smile when the pain comes,
The pain’s gonna make everything alright.


Originally, we all thought it was mild rebellion—dying her hair jet black, using heavy black eyeliner, painting her nails black. Her Muggle clothes were also black. Everyone thought it was just a phase: shunning convention, and color, to make a statement against the atrocities of war. She was still polite and respectful to the professors and she still turned in exemplary work. So, when the physical changes remained, it wasn’t too worrisome. Inside, she was still the same Hermione Granger.

I watch as she puts the needle to her skin and pushes. A small smile of relief comes to her face. She looks at ease almost immediately. She leans against the brick wall of the Astronomy Tower, closes her eyes and sighs contentedly. She slowly opens her eyes and looks heavenward.

Says she talks to angels,
They call her out by her name
She talks to angels
Says they call her out by her name


“Harry, Ron…” I hear her say. She tends to talk to her best friends when in this state. Mr. Potter may be “the Boy-Who-Triumphed,” but that doesn’t mean he’s still “the Boy-Who-Lived.” He and Mr. Weasley both lost their lives. After the Dark Lord finally fell the remaining Death Eaters attempted to revenge their lost master.

She keeps a lock of hair in her pocket
She wears a cross around her neck
Yeah, the hair is from a little boy
And the cross is from someone she has not met, not yet.


She pulls a lock of hair from the breast pocket of her shirt. I can’t tell if it’s black or red—it’s too dark in the tower. She worries the hair between her fingers and gives it a kiss. As she puts the hair back in her pocket, she draws her knees up to her chest. Then she pulls a large cross from beneath her shirt. She turns it upside down and studies it. She sighs heavily as she lets the pendant drop from her hands.

She says she talks to angels,
Says they all know her name
Oh yeah, she talks to angels
Say they call her out by her name.


She leans her head back again. “Harry, Ron. I love you guys so much.” She says this with a sigh. The euphoria has worn off apparently. “Why couldn’t I die with you? There is nothing left for me. No family, no friends, no future.” I’ve heard her laments before, but I still can’t believe them. Heroine of the Final Battle, soon-to-be recipient of the Order of Merlin, member or the Order of the Phoenix, the brightest witch of the age and she can’t envision a future? It’s baffling.

She don’t know no lover
None that I ever seen
Yes, to her that ain’t nothing
But to me, yeah me, it’s everything.


She’s at that age when she should be vying for someone’s attention—much like the rest of her schoolmates. She ignores all of the advances toward her and I haven’t seen her make any. I realize that she’s probably still reeling from Mr. Weasley’s death. It was assumed by everyone at Hogwarts that they would graduate, marry and bring more Weasleys into the world. I’ve noticed that she isn’t talking to anyone anymore. Lavender Brown, Neville Longbottom, Ginevra Weasley all survived the Final Battle. I thought they were close, but she’s pulling away.

She paints her eyes as black as night now
She pulls those shades down tight
Oh yeah, there’s a smile when the pain comes
The pain’s gonna make everything alright, alright yeah


Her black makeup is smudged from her tears, leaving black lines down her cheeks. She closes her eyes tightly and takes a deep, shuddering breath. When she opens her eyes again she sets about the task of putting a brown powder in a spoon and lights a small fire underneath. She then takes the powder, now a liquid, and puts it into the needle she just used. It looks to be a lot more than usual. She tightens the tie around her arm and plunges the needle in. She shudders and looks up. After a few seconds, her breathing becomes shallow and she starts to convulse.

Something is very wrong.

As I run toward her, she slumps down farther. I notice her pupils are tiny and her skin is clammy.

She’s not breathing.

She says she talks to angels,
Says they all know her name
Oh yeah, yeah angels
Call her out by her name
Oh, angels
They call her out by her name
Oh, she talks to angels
They call her out
Yeah, they call her out
Don’t you know they call her out by her name.





She Talks to Angels by ChantTaVie [Reviews - 11]


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