Hermione gazed out of the window in the hospital room and sobbed. Today was her birthday and all she wanted was to share it with the man she loved. It was now over three years after Harry had been found, and even she had lost hope. She had given up reaching into his mind, as it did not seem to help. She sighed and turned as Ron walked into the room.
"Hermione, it is time to go. Harry is never going to wake up. You need to move on with your life. That is what Harry would have wanted. He is happy. He has escaped that pain. It is time to let him go," he sadly told her.
"I know Ron, I know. Harry is not dead, but he is not coming out of his coma. I need to get over him. I don't think I ever will, but I have to try. It is time to get on with my life," she replied to him.
Ron led her towards the door as she gave one last look at Harry, her friend, her love, her life. She knew that she would never get over him. She would always come and visit him. However, she could not stay in the hospital room forever. She gave on last long gaze at him, and walked out of the room.
When Ron and Hermione were halfway down the hall, they heard an anguished scream. They raced back down the hall and into Harry's room. Harry was writhing on the bed, screaming.
"He's waking!" Hermione exclaimed. She raced over to his bed and put her hand on his head. Harry relaxed and opened his eyes. He waved his hand in front of his face in confusion. She realized that he must be blind. The damage to his eyes had been too great to fix them. They looked alright on the outside, but inside they were beyond repair.
Harry looked around him, trying to break past the blackness that covered his sight. As he waved his hand in front of his face, he remembered that he had blinded himself. He moaned as he remembered all the things that he had been through. He wished that he was dead. Everything was his fault. As his guilt spread through his body, threatening to overwhelm him, Hermione's comforting presence covered him, filling him with her love. He smiled as she wrapped her arms around him. He heard footsteps coming, and the voice of Ron shouting that he was awake. He grinned as he heard his other best friend. Ron came up beside him and placed his arm on his shoulder. Harry tried to stand up, but winced and lay back down again. An unfamiliar male voice told him to take it easy.
Harry shuddered as the guilt and pain pushed up again. Hermione held him tighter, her thoughts speaking more than any words ever could. Harry reached out slowly and touched the woman he loved, sending back into her mind assurance of his love for her. They both smiled, not needing words to know that they would be together for the rest of their lives. Harry knew that it would not be easy. He was still so guilty and in so much pain. He could not see, and he could tell that his right leg was unusable. Yet, she would be there for him. He turned toward her, giving her a look of gratitude. She had waited, never giving up hope of finding him. She had gone looking for him, though she knew the danger involved. He did not know what he had done to deserve her, but she was there. She was his and he was hers. She was his light, just as she had been in his fantasy, but more real then he had ever dreamed of. She was older, yet more beautiful then ever.
"How long has it been since you rescued me?" Harry asked suddenly.
"Three years, one month, five days, fifteen hours, six minutes," Hermione replied.
"I see that you have been counting the minutes, love," he smiled.
"Of course I have. Every minute without you was an eternity, my Harry."
"Wow, only three years. I thought that it had been sixteen."
"Do not even joke about that. I spent eight years without you. Sixteen is more than I could handle. I hope we never have to be apart again. I am sure that I will die before or just after you. I cannot imagine spending any more time without you," she replied.
Harry's friends gathered round him. As news spread of his waking, more and more people came to see him. Each person made him more and more uncomfortable. They were so grateful. Minister Fudge, who was obviously a changed man, said that Harry was to receive the highest award given to any wizard or witch. Harry did not think that he deserved that. He had done what he had to do and because of it had caused many deaths. He tried to ignore his guilt, and Hermione helped, but it remained, gnawing at him. He discovered that he had been right in assessing the damage to his right leg. It was still there but could not support his weight. His left leg was damaged too, and Harry was told he would never walk again. He was given a contraption similar to a muggle wheelchair that allowed him to hover just above the ground, glide up stairs, and even fly.
However, Harry desperately wanted to walk. As time past, depression set in. He relived the six years he had spent with Voldemort over and over again. He and Hermione were engaged, but he wouldn't let them set a date. He just sat in the room in her flat that she had given him, not leaving. Hermione hated seeing her fiancé like this. She wanted to see his emerald eyes sparkle with joy again, but she did not know how to accomplish it. She had to think of something. She could not bear to see him so unhappy. She and all the Weasley's and their spouses sat and plotted. They needed and idea.