Back to Life by phoenixwriter

Rating: PG13
Genres: Drama, Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 30/05/2004
Last Updated: 02/06/2004
Status: Completed

“How are you getting on?” Harry was surprised by this question. He gaped for a moment, surprised
by her query. “What?” Hermione rolled her eyes and shook her head ruefully before she replied, “You
heard me. I want to know how you’re doing? I mean, with Voldemort and Dumbledore gone, it has to be
difficult for you. You kept saying you … you might not survive Hogwarts, but now…” Hermione trailed
off. Her eyes were sparkling with unshed tears. He suspected she was worried for him. He couldn’t
answer, his throat closed with emotion, but he could look at her. Suddenly, she smiled again and
reached for his hand. “But you’re here and alive, so tell me, how are you?” she asked once more as
she held his hand. Her grip was not very strong, more just draped over his hand. She didn’t squeeze
his hand like she had done in the past.




1. Bring Me To Life
-------------------

**Back to life**

**1.Chapter: Bring Me To Life**

**Bring Me To Life – Evanescence**

*How can you see into my eyes like open doors?*

*Leading you down into my core*

*Where I’ve become so numb, without a soul, my spirit sleeping somewhere cold*

*Until you find it there, and lead it back home wake me up inside*

*Wake me up inside*

*Call my name and save me from the dark*

*Bid my blood to run*

*Before I come undone*

*Save me from the nothing I’ve become*

*Now that I know what I’m without*

*You can't just leave me*

*Breathe into me and make me real*

*Bring me to life*

As the sun broke through the clouds and sent warm light spreading over the grounds of Hogwarts,
he knew everything could be, finally, all right again. It was as if he saw light again after an
eternity of darkness, but it had been a harsh and brutal two years of war, with all the attendant
fears and losses. Now that terrible time was past and fading from his consciousness with each new
day.

As he had done often in the past few weeks, he was sitting beneath a tall live oak tree on the
slope leading from the castle gate down to the lake, and thinking of Hermione. What if her injuries
from the last battle were permanent? Guilt scored his heart with sharp talons. Bright and active,
he saw Hermione in his mind as she had been before the conflict.

He had had to fight himself everyday from obsessing over the possibilities, the “what if”
questions that circled in his brain, but he had been losing ground in the fight steadily over the
past three weeks.

So much had been lost in this second war. The hardest losses for Harry were the people who had
deserved to live, to be free of fear and to know a world without Voldemort’s shadow. His anxiety
over his best friend’s condition had kept him from worrying about what might be in his future.
After all, what did Harry’s future matter if Hermione couldn’t be as she was before?

He glanced up toward the castle, watching the glints of reflected light from the many windows
before focusing on the medical wing. . At this time of day, Ginny was probably visiting her and
trying to get Hermione to do her physical therapy. It had been a pitched battle for any of her
friends to motivate her to try. He remembered his last attempt and the frustration he’d felt. He
ran his hand through his perpetually messy black hair before he stood up and brushed some stray
leaves from his scarlet Quidditch robes.

Every other day or so, Ron managed free either Harry or himself from practice so they could
spend time to sit Hermione. Madam Pomfrey kept muttering that it was a miracle that Hermione
survived the curse that had been cast on her without any damage to her mind, but she still wasn’t
able to walk or even to move her arms freely.

He felt physical pain when he saw her struggle to regain her mobility and strength, but he knew
he could not turn away from her suffering. He remembered that this girl had once lifted 20 books in
her bag and run around Hogwarts without strain, her thoughts probably always focused on the next
essay or test. That vision of her as she had been before the attack was so powerful that sometimes
his own doubts about her recovery faded away like an early morning mist. Hermione was a fighter and
one day she would walk. Despite doubts and guilt, this fragile, hopeful image remained steadfast in
Harry’s heart. He sighed and headed up slope toward the school. Hermione was waiting for him.

His last practice for his last Quidditch game at Hogwarts, he mused. Since McGonagall has
announced that the Quidditch Cup would be played at the end of the term, the Gryffindor team had
trained hard for this event. It would be the first cup without Voldemort lurking about, waiting to
strike the Wizarding World and it would also be Harry’s last Quidditch game as the Gryffindor
Seeker. This year was a year of many last things; some of these final events hurt to think about
while others did not cause Harry any pain.

As he approached the main gate, he could see the castle glowing in the sunlight. It looked the
same the first day he had seen the massive school from this perspective. Though nothing had
outwardly changed in the ancient building, Harry could still feel the changes within himself. It
should been him who was in the hospital wing right now. It should been him who needed to learn to
walk again, not her. Why of all people, did it have to be Hermione to suffer the Cruciatius curse
held on her long enough to cause nervous system damage? Sometimes, Harry could still hear the echo
of her screams in his mind if his memories strayed into the recent past. He quickened his pace to
escape the remembrance.

He reached the Hospital Wing and was about to swing open the door when he heard Hermione
yelling, “Come on, Ginny! Give me my book back!”

“No, you have to come here and get it. This isn’t that difficult, Hermione. I know you can do
it.” Ginny sounded playful.

“You know I can’t. I can’t even hold onto the book for very long.” As Harry entered the room, he
saw Hermione sitting propped up in her bed with her arms crossed in front of her chest. She looked
annoyed, an expression that Harry had become very familiar with in the past few weeks. Ginny had
determined that they should challenge Hermione to try to motivate her, but for all that Harry could
see, it hadn’t seemed to do anything positive.

It seemed sometimes that Hermione was making no progress in her recovery. Harry couldn’t
understand her acceptance of what he considered completely intolerable. Sometimes he wondered if
she had just given up.

“Hey!” He said heartily as he approached the pair.

“Harry!” she exclaimed happily. Her eyes were shining with happiness now and a smile appeared on
her pale face. It still amazed him time and again how she seemed to light up from within when she
saw him. Not once had she let him see her sadness or resignation when he visited, though he still
sensed it despite her bright façade. But he knew from both Ginny and Ron that Hermione was not
herself when Harry was not there.

She played the cheerful one for him, he thought. Warmly he smiled at her before he gave her a
tight hug. “How long until the Final game, Harry?” she asked when he finally let her go.

“McGonagall said it would be held next Saturday.” Ginny answered before Harry could answer.

“So soon? I thought they would wait until closer to graduation.” She looked inquiringly from
Harry to Ginny. Harry took advantage of the small pause to change the subject, “Let speak about
something else other than Quidditch. What about you, Hermione?”

“What about me?” Hermione’s expression grew stiff and her manner guarded, “I’m still recovering,
and in the mean time, I’m doing what I can to prepare myself for a life after Hogwarts. Don’t you
think this sounds strange? Its scary to think in one month is everything over. After all these
years here at Hogwarts…” She had begun to speak quickly, one sentence nearly running over the
previous one. Harry recognized her nervous habit, indeed it was as if he was sitting in on the
Hogwarts Express and talking to an eleven-year-old girl who had just burst into his compartment and
introduced herself. He smiled slightly at this whimsical thought.

Ginny cleared her throat to interrupt Hermione’s discourse, “I’ll let you two chat. I have to
meet with Luna in a few minutes.” With a jaunty wave, the red head left them. She had had a
mischievous smile that had made Harry a little uneasy. “I could swear they are planning something.”
He muttered under his breath. Hermione could not quite hear him and asked, “Pardon?” Harry,
realizing he had spoken aloud, just shrugged and shook his head.

“How are you getting on?” Harry was surprised by this question. He gaped for a moment, surprised
by her query. “What?”

Hermione rolled her eyes and shook her head ruefully before she replied, “You heard me. I want
to know how you’re doing? I mean, with Voldemort and Dumbledore gone, it has to be difficult for
you. You kept saying you … you might not survive Hogwarts, but now…” Hermione trailed off. Her eyes
were sparkling with unshed tears.

He suspected she was worried for him. He couldn’t answer, his throat closed with emotion, but he
could look at her. Suddenly, she smiled again and reached for his hand.

“But you’re here and alive, so tell me, how are you?” she asked once more as she held his hand.
Her grip was not very strong, more just draped over his hand. She didn’t squeeze his hand like she
had done in the past.

“I don’t know. Honestly, I don’t know. I should be happy that this nightmare is over now. But
its seems like it everything is just stopped, waiting I guess.” He stopped and stared at her hand,
still lying on top of his.

“Go on, I’m here, Harry.” He heard her whispering.

Like a dam bursting, he started to talk about everything and nothing in particular. He perched
on the side of her bed. The sunlight streamed through the windows, throwing bright fingers across
the blankets of her bed and touching her pale complexion with its warm caress.

Hermione was so pale. Harry could feel her own burden weighing heavy on her, and hated himself
for adding even a feather’s weight more; but once he had begun this verbal catharsis, he knew he
had to finish. She had asked for this, she wanted to know and she would never appreciate his trying
to coddle and protect her,

Of all his friends, only Hermione wanted to know how he felt, how he was and what was in his
mind. Ron would never ask Harry simply because he was probably afraid knowing the extent of Harry’s
grief, with his deeply felt guilt. Harry’s gaze stayed fixed on their hands as he held hers between
his own hands and started to absently to run his thumbs over the delicate skin of the back of her
hand.

“I always thought, if Voldemort was dead, I would feel free and happy; that I’m able to live my
own life now. Maybe have a great feast with all of my friends; secure in the knowledge that
everyone I care for is happy and safe.

“Just like that I could forget. But the truth is, nothing feels right. You know, I keep
dreaming, he comes back and kills everyone who is left. Sometimes I even wish he would and kill
me,” he whispered. Hermione gasped in horror at that, but didn’t interrupt.

“Oh, I know this all sounds mad, but I feel like nobody needs me anymore. I mean, in only one
month, my life at Hogwarts is over. No more Quidditch, studying in the library or just sitting by
the lake. No, instead I need to get my things from Privet Drive and live alone somewhere till Auror
training begins. Don’t say it, I know Ron keeps saying we’ll be together like we were here. But you
and I both know that isn’t true or even something that’s possible.” Hermione’s hand flexed minutely
between his own, stroking his palm comfortingly.

“Ron has his family and his own life, as he should, and eventually we’ll grow apart, only
meeting on holidays like Christmas or Easter. But that isn’t the worst; truly not what keeps
haunting me. It’s the memory. Everything is crystal clear, I see, hear, all of that like it just
happened a few moments ago. I can’t handle this…it’s silly, really.” Harry stuttered into silence
again and looked up to meet her gaze.

She stared at him with intensity, almost stopping his confession midstream with the dark emotion
roiling in her brown eyes.

“If it’s quiet, I can still hear your screams.” He murmured, his eyes started to burn. Before he
knew she had moved, he felt her arms around him. She held him so tightly; he wondered how she
managed it given her weakened state.

He closed his eyes, causing the tears trembling on his lashes to fall onto his cheeks. He held
as she choked out, “Everything will be all right. Listen,” She said, her voice soft but urgent as
she pulled back to see his face clearly. He felt slightly cold without her. “Listen to me, Harry. I
promise you, I’ll be all right and I – I need you to believe me, I really do.”

Harry couldn’t understand why her words made him smile, until he realized the familiar
determination behind them. That was the Hermione that had been missing for so long.

“Why?” He questioned, smile still in place. Surprise and then amusement showed in her face.

“Why are you, you?” Harry asked her.

“Because I can’t be someone else.”

“Actually, you can,” she swatted him playfully at that. “Hey, that did hurt.” Harry protested,
rubbing his injured arm.

“Serves you right. Teasing me about my mistakes.” She laughed at his pantomimed “coughing up” of
fur balls. Her laughter was infectious, but Madame Pomfrey was not amused.

“Mr Potter! You have stayed long enough here and I expect Miss Granger will need her rest after
she takes her potion.” As Harry looked up at Madam Pomfrey, he expected a stern look of
disapproval, but she was smiling serenely at both students. Her eyes were shining, something he
never seen from the matronly woman.

“I’m off, Hermione. And, thank you.” With that, he did something he had never done before, and
kissed her on the cheek. Unable to meet either woman’s eyes due to his blushing, he strode quickly
from the Hospital ward.

**Authornote: This a story is based at the Quidditch kiss Challenge by
Muddgutts.**

**I would like to thank** **Perivayne for her betaing. I did after some struggling decide to
repost this one with some correcting in formatting. In the past I had some difficult to work out
how I get it rightly in html format but now I finally got it. To me this story deserve to get a
right format to be posted. Though I said before there will be no sequel I might change my mind
there. This is also another reason why I bother you with this because you might find in future a
story based on this one. I did finally find a plot which will come very close to the spirit of this
one and not destroy this story in itself.**

**As always critic is most welcomed so state it and I’ll listening and try to improve.**

**~Phoenixwriter~**



2. Step By Step
---------------

**Back to Life**

**Chapter 2 - Step by Step**

The Great Hall was full of students. It seemed that everyone was talking about classes,
Voldemort and of course about the Quidditch Final. There didn’t exist a single soul in Hogwarts who
didn’t know that it was Harry Potter's last game, even Professor Binns. In a few days, Harry
would play for the last time at Hogwarts. To his own surprise, he wasn’t nervous, not about this
game. True be told he didn’t care anymore. In a bad mood, he pushed his porridge away
untouched.

“You have to eat, Harry. Look, I don’t want to lie if Hermione asks,” Ginny said as she pushed
the porridge back in front of him.

“You mean she asks you if we eat enough?” Ron inquired, looking shocked and forgetting for a
moment to scrape the last bit of porridge out of the bowl.

“No, she asks if Harry eats enough,” Ginny replied loudly.

“Why? I’m her friend, too.” He put his bowl back on the table and started to eye the full one in
front of Harry. It didn't take long before Harry had had enough of Ron’s longing look and
pushed the bowl to him.

“Because she knows you. If I ate as much as you do, I would explode.” Ginny's worried eyes
were fixed on Harry. “You look tired,” she said finally.

“Sorry, but I have to side with Ginny there.” Ron’s voice sounded only half as cheerful as
before.

“There's no reason to worry. I’m fine.” Harry tried to smile, but it was more of a
grimace.

“You’re not, mate. Even Parvati keeps asking me if you're all right. Mind you, she still
stops to corner me even after I told her you and Hermione are fine. True, Hermione is still
recovering, but there is no reason to keep asking. Really, I’m tired of this.” Ron shook his head
in disbelief.

“Ron, she has every reason to ask,” Ginny muttered half aloud so that only Harry and Ron could
hear her. “Hermione has been in the hospital wing for weeks. I can’t remember a student who was
ever there so long. Madam Pomfrey said there's no potion or spell that can help her; that’s why
it's taking such a long time for her to recover.”

Slowly, Harry closed his eyes and tried not to think what this could mean. Of course, he had
already known that there was no potion capable of helping Hermione. He had been there as Madam
Pomfrey told her. She hadn’t argued or made any comments; instead, her face had remained tense,
without any emotions showing. Somehow he wished she had cried, or argued, or done just about
anything other than keep that awful silence, as if in acceptance of her fate. How foolish had Harry
been to promise her to search through the entire library to find a solution? But he hadn’t found
anything -- it was hopeless.

“Come off it,” said Ron. “Hermione will be fine. Last week she couldn’t move her fingers or
hands, but now she's able to hold one of her books and read. Who would've thought the first
thing she'd do was read a book?” He laughed loudly.

*.*

“Yeah, but do you know how hard this was? How painful? She’s torturing herself. By Merlin, but I
don’t know where she gets her willpower.” Harry sighed deeply at Ginny’s words but remained
silent.

“Anyway, what time is it?” she asked.

“Enough time 'til classes, Ginny. Lucky for us that we don’t have them anymore, eh, Harry?
No more Snape and his one-eyed looks. Couldn’t they leave at least have found him a fake eye? I’m
really sorry that you have to put up with him for one year longer,” Ron said gleefully as he
scratched with his spoon.

“Thanks, but I still want to know what time it is,” replied Ginny.

“It's half past nine in the morning,” Harry answered, annoyed. This was how every day
started. It was driving him crazy. Why couldn’t they just shut up? It was already enough to feel
the fixed stares on him every day as he went through the Great Hall to sit down at the Gryffindor
table. Why did he still bother going into the noisy hall anymore? Here it was visible like no place
else that some people were no longer alive. Harry didn’t dare to look up to the staff table
anymore, unwilling to see that Dumbledore was no longer sitting there. Instead it was McGonagall,
and at her side Snape, with his one remaining eye.

At the Gryffindor table, too, there were some places left empty. Dean had been one of the first
who died in the sixth year. He hadn’t come back from summer. His place at the table remained, just
like in the dormitory. It had been a hard year for all of them. Still, Harry could remember how
Hermione got the news about her parents ….

“It's time for us to go to the hospital wing!” Ginny's shout knocked Harry out his
reverie. Ron gave his sister a questioning look, but Harry just glared at her. He wasn’t in a good
mood.

“I – I can’t!” he growled.

“You have to go! Hermione asked, and she’s expecting us. I promised her I'd bring you
along,” Ginny retorted, glaring right back at Harry.

Without warning, he slammed his fist on the table. “Damn it! What possessed you to do such a
thing? Why?”

Every one of the Gryffindors was watching them now. Suddenly, the table had gone very quiet, the
usual noise gone as the other students leaned in to hear. “You don’t want to visit Hermione?” Ginny
hissed angrily.

“Of course I want but not now. Not like this,” he snapped back.

“Well, you're just going to have to swallow your bad mood. It's not that difficult. If
you don’t want to do it for yourself, then do it for her!”

Harry stood up straight at that and saw Ginny and Ron looking at him as if they expected him to
start yelling. “Shall we?” he inquired, in a voice unlike his own. Surprised, Ron goggled at him
for a moment before standing up silently.

With great self-control, Harry left the table. He started to walk quickly, not caring that it
was difficult for Ron and Ginny to keep up with him. The portraits and corridors blew past him, as
interesting now as when he had first come to Hogwarts. But today he didn't have the will to
take a look around. It seemed his own emotions were betraying him. It wasn’t fear about his future
that made him so moody. It wasn’t even the fact that he was haunted by the past. He wished it were
so easy. Since his last visit to Hermione, he had been very confused. At this very moment, though,
he finally understood his own feelings. Why, then, was he more lost than before? There was a reason
why he only felt good if he was with her, but at the same time so lost if he left her. A reason why
it hurt so to see the possibility that she might not recover, hurt more than anything he'd
faced in the past seven years. His worst fears were realised -- he was in love.

Harry Potter felt like someone who didn’t know how to be in love. As he reached the door to the
hospital wing, he took a deep breath at the sight that greeted him. There was Luna Lovegood gazing
dreamily around and waiting for them. This wasn’t a normal visit anymore, it was planned and that
made him angry. “What are you doing here?” he shot out as he reached her.

“A good morning to you too, Harry!” was her not unexpected response. She was smiling and only
barely looking at him; her gaze was rather aimed at Ron, who reached both of them at this moment,
Ginny at his side. “Exactly on time.”

Puzzled, Harry glanced at Ginny, but she kept ignoring him and opened the door. He gave up on
trying to get her to divulge what was going on here.

A familiar smell emerged from the hospital wing, which he knew quite well by now. Madam Pomfrey
was nowhere to be seen as they entered the wing; she was probably with Snape or just out on the
grounds. Through the large windows, daylight lurked lightly into the room, illuminating the scene
before him. Harry held his breath as he saw her. This wasn’t possible. There she was, standing on
her own feet far away from any bed. Hermione was wearing normal Muggle clothing, a pair of crutches
held at her sides. Harry was speechless, truly speechless. There was no thought in his mind at this
sight, only an unbelievable warm glowing feeling spreading throughout his body as if someone was
hugging, holding him. A broad smile appeared on his face. It nearly hurt, so much did he smile at
this, and she was beaming back at him. Her face showed that she was concentrating hard, as it was
tense, but there was also a slight glow to it. “Wait! I'm coming to you,” she said, as Ron was
about to rush to her.

Everyone was strangely quiet at this. It had been weeks since they had seen her on her feet, and
Harry feared they might not see it again. Slowly, but certainly Hermione was walking with the help
of crutches, step by step. It was an amazing sight that would have made him cry if he hadn't
been so happy. Nothing in his entire life could compare with this happiness that kept washing over
his heart as she came closer and closer. Her eyes had been fixed on the floor, but as there were
only a few steps left, she raised her eyes to him. As her eyes met his, her face softened, the
tense look melting away. On her next step, however, she put her foot down differently, causing her
to lose her balance. As if in slow motion, one of the crutches fell to the floor with a loud crash
and she staggered, trying desperately to stay on her own feet. Everyone seemed too shocked to
react, Ginny putting her hands over her mouth and Luna forming a large “No!” with her lips. Harry
was the first to move, dashing towards her, but was too late -- she was already falling. As he
reached her, Ron on his heels, she was already on the floor.

Hermione was lying on her stomach. “Are you all right? Did you hurt yourself?” Harry was on his
knees beside her.

“I’m fine,” came a muffled answer.

He could tell she was crying, her head buried in her arms so he couldn’t see her. It hurt Harry
immensely to see her like that, but slowly he started to feel annoyed that Ginny, Luna and Ron were
still goggling at Hermione like the statues in the hallways. “Get out! Go!” Harry yelled at
them.

“What?” Ron asked doubtfully.

“Leave her alone. Go!” Harry replied in a sharp tone as he saw how Hermione’s shoulders had
started to shake. To his relief, Ron nodded and turned around. Seconds later Harry heard the door
close. Carefully, he touched her back and before he quite knew what he was doing, he had gathered
her into his arms.

“I can’t-” Hermione started to say, but he interrupted her as he ended the hug and looked at her
intensely. Tears were still streaming down her face as he brought his hands up to hold it tenderly.
“Hermione, it's all right. You hear me, it's all right. Don’t make yourself crazy!” he
whispered, as he tried to wipe away her tears.

Still, her eyes were shining. “But – but --“

“No buts. All that counts is that you are here. You're alive, and that's everything
I'll ever need. Just to know that you didn’t leave me makes me so incredibly happy.” Harry
smiled at her.

“You don’t know how happy you make me,” Hermione said slowly as she touched his hands.

“I have an idea, though,” he laughed as he bent down and kissed her forehead.

Author note: The second chapter of this story and I’m still not really happy with it. I guess
one of those day I can’t satisfied myself with anything I’m doing or have done so far. Anyway give
me your feedback and I try to be a better writer.

**~Phoenixwriter**



3. Catch for a Lifetime
-----------------------

**Back to Life**

**Chapter 3 - Catch for a Lifetime**

All he needed to do was concentrate, as Ron had said again and again. But Harry was so far away
from concentrating that at times he felt a elbow in his ribs because he wasn’t listening to Ron’s
great plan. Today was the day of the final, and there was already a great deal of noise from the
pitch and the stands. This noise sent chills all over his body, because this would be his last game
and his first without Hermione watching. All the previous years, she was always in the stands
watching him. He had always known she was there and it gave him a secure feeling. This time it was
different -- he felt insecure. Afraid of failing or even falling from his broomstick. His hands
felt clumsy, as if he wasn’t able to hold onto or catch anything, especially not the Snitch.

When Harry had woken up, it had been raining heavily; now, it was only slightly raining but
still cold for June. Not the weather he had wished for today, but he had wished for so much this
day, and it couldn’t all happen. How much had he wished to see her on the stands? But although he
tried to find her, against his better knowledge, he hadn’t seen her. Just to see her would give him
what he needed to play a good game -- probably the best game of his life. But Harry knew she
wouldn’t be there. She was still in the hospital wing, learning to walk again. It was amazing to
him that she hadn’t given up. Time and time again she had fallen to the floor, but every time she
stood up and kept trying. Shortly after he had seen her on her own feet again for the first time,
she had insisted that he had to help her to stand up again. In his mind, Harry had since accepted
that he was in love. He had to be -- there was no denying the fact. It freaked him out to an
extent, making him temperamental and confused. “What am I going to do?” Harry heard again, Ginny
muttering aloud the same question that was plaguing Harry's mind. True, the Gryffindor team
wouldn’t be the same next year without a Keeper, Seeker and a Beater. Neville had turned out to be
a very good Beater at the tryouts in sixth year, surprising everyone. Also, who would have thought
that the Weasley twin's replacements would be Neville and Dennis? Absently, Harry touched his
old Firebolt. He didn’t even notice as it suddenly went very silent around him, and only the
singing from the stands was audible.

‘Weasley is our King,

Weasley is our King,

He won’t let the Quaffle in,

Weasley is our King…’

“Harry!” Ron’s angry voice interrupted Harry’s thoughts. Surprised that he was being addressed,
he lifted his eyes from his broom to meet Ron’s glare. “Did you hear anything what I said?” Nobody
else on the team dared to speak.

“All that I have to do is catch the Snitch while we are in the lead. I don’t foresee a problem,”
Harry answered simply.

“The Slytherins won’t make it that easy for you. I expect that both beaters will go after you
and you know how unfair they play.”

“That’s why I don’t see any problems. Malfoy needs me to find the snitch. He will always be
right on my tail, and I doubt any bludger will hunt me if he's nearly on my broom.” A huge
smile appeared on Ron’s face at this response. “You’re right. Come on, it's time.” He winked at
them as they followed him on the pitch. Harry mounted his broom at last, and kicked off.

“…Longbottom…Weasley…Creevy…and Potter.” Lee Jordan roared. Though he had left Hogwarts two
years ago, he had insisted to Professor McGonagall that he needed to do the commentary for this
match. It was the last match of the best seeker who had ever flown at Hogwarts. She had had give
in. Harry landed right behind Ron who faced a sneering Draco Malfoy, the captain of the Slytherin
team. Ron was much taller than Malfoy, but they were both still glaring at each other.

“Weasley, Malfoy, shake hands,” Madam Hooch said briskly, and Ron shook hand with the Slytherin
captain, a disgusted look at his face. The weather couldn’t have been more different than this
morning. It was no longer raining, and there the sun was lurking behind clouds. It was still a cool
day, with a very light breeze.

“Mount your brooms…on my whistle…three – two – one – “ Madam Hooch let the Bludgers free shortly
after, and then the golden Snitch left her hands and flew straight past Malfoy's head.

Harry kicked off into the air and took his Firebolt up to his usual cruising height. He soared
around the stadium and began to look out for the Snitch while Malfoy tailed him closely. It was
just as he had expected.

All the while, Harry was listening to the commentary by Lee Jordan. “They’re off, and the last
match of Harry Potter at Hogwarts is on. For all Gryffindors is this a very happy but at the same
time a sad day. Its an open question if we will ever see him play Quidditch again. Still on his
superb Firebolt and still - "

“Jordan, would you mind telling us what’s going on in the match?” interrupted Professor
McGonagall’s voice. “Right you are, Professor – just giving a bit of background information. Ginny
Weasley of Gryffindor heading for goal…” Harry soared higher and higher so he could overlook the
stadium better. Behind him still was Malfoy, who tried to follow him on his old Nimbus 2001. Harry
suspected that the Malfoys hadn’t had so much money to keep buying expensive brooms anymore.
Suddenly, Harry spotted a golden gleam by the stands.

Harry threw his broom into a sharp dive, the ground coming up fast. The wind was roaring in his
ears and he held on tightly to his Firebolt. Behind him was Malfoy. He tried desperately to follow
Harry but couldn't keep up. Harry stretched out his hand, but suddenly he caught sight of
something unbelievable. His jaw dropped and his eyes were no longer fixed on the Snitch; instead,
he stared incredulously towards the stands. There, right beside Lavender and Parvati, stood
Hermione Granger. Without realising it, he slowed down and Malfoy closed up on him.

“Come on, Harry!” Hermione screamed.

But he was no longer thinking nor looking for the Snitch. Malfoy passed by with an outstretched
hand and fixed stare. This time he would beat Scarhead. A Bludger soared right at Malfoy who had to
dive before it hit him on the head. The Snitch had vanished, but Harry didn't even notice.

His stare was fixed at the stands, a huge, stupid grin on his face.

“Harry! Are you listening? What do you think you're doing?” Someone was yelling at him and
shaking him. Ron's yelling gradually cut through his haze of joy, causing Harry to break his
eyes away from Hermione and bring himself back to the game at hand. “Harry, damn it. You did nearly
let Malfoy get the Snitch.” Ron’s voice was full of anger.

Ron should've been at the rings, Harry thought, but instead Neville was there. Harry blinked
as he snapped out of a daze.

“Sorry.” He murmured absently.

“Its our last game. Don’t mess it up!” Ron said and turned around sharply without noticing
Hermione.

Harry was back to his senses and he soared higher again, though it wasn't long before Malfoy
was by his side again. Truth be told, Harry didn't care much about the game anymore. He had a
difficult time concentrating on his surroundings, as there were too many questions floating in his
mind. The image of Hermione just standing there, without crutches or other support, was burned into
Harry's mind. She was just watching the game as if it was perfectly ordinary that she was
there. As he absently glanced around, trying to sort his thoughts, he caught a glint of gold. The
Snitch was flying around in one of the Gryffindor rings behind Ron’s back.

Hastily, Harry leaned forward and picked up the pace. Once again, the wind blew his hair out of
his face and he heard a roaring in his ears. He was moving fast, so fast that he needed to hold on
tight to his Firebolt as it started to shake. Behind him, he could hear Malfoy cursing his broom,
but Harry’s gaze was fixed upon the golden Snitch. A Bludger soared in his direction but missed his
back. With full speed, Harry blew by Ron, missing him by only inches and forcing him into a dive to
avoid being knocked aside. Harry reached out his hand once more and –

“YES!” Harry pulled out of his dive, his hands in the air, and the stadium exploded. He soared
above the pitch right to the stands. The tiny golden ball was held tight in his fist, beating its
wings hopelessly against his fingers.

Frantically, he looked around 'till he found those brown eyes in the stands. Everybody
around her was screaming and yelling, but she was looking directly into his eyes. On her face was
the broadest smile he ever saw, her eyes shining and full of emotion. It was as if the Firebolt had
read his mind because it was flying right at the stands. He slowed down as he reached her, a fresh
breeze hitting his face. Getting closer and closer to Hermione, his mind went blank as she bent
over the stands to him. Her hands were framing his face and her eyes locked with his. Ever so
slowly her lips touched his. His eyes closed and he just felt.

“Oh Merlin! Just look,” whispered Parvati to Lavender who stared at the scene too. She didn’t
respond to that, rendered speechless.

A flash of light came from from Colin Creevy's camera, as the moment was recorded for
posterity. Harry opened his eyes again just to see once more that brown eyes were looking back at
him. It hadn’t been a dream. Suddenly very aware of the golden Snitch in his fist and where he was,
a blush rose into his cheeks.

“This is for you, Hermione,” he whispered.

She looked startled at that, her eyes going from his face to his left hand, which was now in
front of him. Carefully, Harry took her right hand and placed it on the Snitch. With big eyes,
Hermione watched his actions. She couldn’t believe her eyes or what she felt at that moment. Never
before had she held a Snitch in her hands, and she found it was like holding Harry’s very heart.
Once more, Hermione kissed him.

“Come with me!” she heard him say. Though all the Gryffindors were singing and cheering, she
could hear him very clearly, as if they were the only people there.

For a second she looked scared before she did the craziest thing of her life. Slightly shaking,
she climbed over the railing and mounted the flying broom. Harry held her tightly until she was
sitting safely in front of him. She was shaking violently as she saw how far away the ground
was.

“I have you. I won't let you go, Hermione,” Harry said soothingly as he held her around her
waist, "I won't ever let you go."

She turned around slightly to see him.

“I love you.” His voice was quivering “I – I love you - ” Hermione interrupted him as she laid a
finger on his mouth.

“I know. I know, Harry,” she just said with tears shining eyes. "I love you, too"

**I need to hear that you’d die for me**

**Again and again and again**

**So tell me when you look in my eyes**

**Can you share all the pain and happy times**

**‘Cause I will love you for the rest of my life**

**love song by** **P!nk**

**Authornote:** I would like to thank **spencer** for his betaing. That’s the end of this
story. I know you probably think there should be more but I think its like that just right. You
have to know this was a challenge and this was what came into my head. I really enjoyed this. After
some thinking and some struggling I did decide to write a sequel to this. It will be based on a
challenge I did post by myself and I think it fit’s to this very well.

Title is still not really clear because I do not want to call it after my own challenge. I have
there two title’s in mind like: Back To Life II - Life While You Can or Can you share all the pain
and happy times?.

But this one might be to long though it fits perfectly because BTL II will feature Harry’s and
Hermione’s life together after Graduation. For the first time ever I plan a OC. This said it will
take some time before I can present this story. Thank you for your time and reading this fic and
reviewing.

At this point I like to answer **Kinsfire’s** question: I was myself once in such a situation
to walk on crutches though I never had the bad fortune to be injured like that I certainly can
relate to such a situation to be down because you just don’t see fast changes so you can walk fine
again. Time is in such a situation a nasty thing and I think I was in that case just as impatient
as Hermione, I just wanted to run again and still want this. In fact I wrote this fic as I wasn’t
able to walk without crutches myself, as I didn’t know if I’ll be fully healthy again. So you see
in the sequel I’ll come back to this and the after life. In this fic I never did answer if Hermione
is all fine again or not.

If she were do you think I did plan a sequel?

All the best

**~Phoenixwriter**