A/N: I think a small fluff warning may be in order here. Fluff, you say? Well, I think Hermione and Ron deserve it. (Kidding! Kidding!). It's H/Hr fluff, of course.
Harry could do nothing but stare stupidly at Professor McGonagall. "She's… she's what?"
"Awake, Potter. Madam Pomfrey just told me." McGonagall frowned. "Sounded quite shaken up, actually. I told her to get back down there and make sure Miss Granger wasn't in any pain."
Harry wasn't listening. Hermione was awake. Hermione had woken up. And he was just standing calmly in Dumbledore's office, like he'd just received word that a tree had fallen over or that it might rain later.
Hermione was awake.
His heart began pounding. "I have to… I have to…" he looked at Dumbledore. "Sorry, Professor," he said, before bolting.
Once again, he found himself running at top speed towards the hospital wing. Hermione had woken up and he hadn't been there. She was in pain and he wasn't there and how could he possibly be a good boyfriend when Hermione needed him and he wasn't there. He ran faster, only knowing that he had to get there because she was in pain and he had to do his best to make it go away.
He burst through the doors, ran through the infirmary's long corridor, passed the empty beds and came to a screeching halt outside Hermione's room. He stared. Ron was wiping down her forehead, one of her hands clutched tightly in his, his face near hers so that he could whisper soothing words.
Harry hadn't been aware that Ron knew how to be soothing.
He tried to swallow the lump that gathered in his throat. 'Just walk in,' a voice told him. 'He's her best friend, of course he'd do anything to make her feel better.' Harry continued to stare at them, feeling like he was witnessing something terribly intimate.
"HARRY!"
Harry started. Ron stood up, his face deathly pale. He looked hysterical.
"You're here," he said breathlessly. When Harry just stared at him, he yelled, "DO SOMETHING!"
Harry blinked, eyes traveling to Hermione. Her face was flushed, her breathing was ragged, but she was awake. He ran to her, feeling her forehead. "She's heating up!" he whispered urgently.
"I KNOW!" Ron wailed. "I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO!"
"Okay," Harry swallowed, trying to seem calm. "It's okay."
"THAT'S WHAT I'VE BEEN TYRING TO SAY!"
Harry shot him a look, before bending down, focusing on Hermione. He slid his palm down her cheek, feeling the heat under his hand. "Hermione," he said quietly. "Don't pass out again, okay? I need you to be strong."
Her eyes fluttered open in hope. "Harry?"
"It's me," he said, his voice cracking. "I'm here. I'm going to protect you."
She clutched at his hands. "I don't feel very well…"
"You're fine," Harry whispered. "Remember that. I'm going to take care of you."
She nodded. "I missed you."
Ron made a slight hissing noise.
Harry ignored him, staring at Hermione intently. "I wasn't ever far…"
"I know. I just… I wanted so badly to tell you… it would be okay. That I would wake up. But I couldn't…."
"Shhh," he said. He turned to Ron, who was looking at him rather heatedly. "Find Madam Pomfrey."
Ron glared at him and then glanced at Hermione. "Fine," he muttered. "But I'm doing this for her."
Harry grasped the abandoned washcloth and smoothed it over Hermione's forehead. "Is this even working at all?" he asked, slightly baffled.
"It feels nice… cool…"
She closed her eyes and Harry felt rising panic. "Don't, Hermione. Don't close your eyes."
"But I'm so tired…"
"I know!" he said, frustrated. "But you'll fall into a coma again and… I need you to stay awake."
"Tell me something. Quidditch. Your Quidditch game… you broke all kinds of records…"
Quidditch seemed like a hundred years ago. "Well," he said. "It was, um, Quidditch."
She smiled faintly. "Ron said your dive would have given me a heart attack."
"You could hear that?"
"I heard almost everything."
"Good. I was afraid Ron and I were doing all that homework for nothing."
"You two are talking again."
Eager to keep her awake, Harry squeezed her hand. "Yeah, he's been…. I nearly lost it when you came in here. I think he was the only one who wouldn't let me dig myself a hole of self-pity."
Harry looked up hopefully when Ron, Madam Pomfrey, Dumbledore, and Professor McGonagall entered. "She has a fever," he said hoarsely. "And she's in a lot of pain. She needs something…"
"Who are you, Potter, a Healer?" Madame Pomfrey sniffed, going to her cabinet. She unlocked it and took down a large purple bottle. Pouring the liquid into a teaspoon, she crouched down by Hermione's bedside. "Open!" Hermione opened her mouth obediently, and Madame Pomfrey dumped the liquid down her throat.
Hermione coughed violently, but swallowed. Harry felt a pang of fear, watching her eyes close.
"It's a pain blocker and a fever reducer," Madame Pomfrey shared. "I don't believe that it will send her back into a coma."
"BELIEVE?" Ron repeated, in mild horror.
Harry wasn't all that comforted himself. He glanced down at Hermione, who had drifted off. He was slightly amused to hear her snoring softly. "She's fine."
"Yes, but how do you KNOW?" Ron demanded.
Harry shrugged. "I just do."
Ron's mouth fell open. "Just because you and she are snogging, doesn't mean you can suddenly read her mind!"
Dumbledore coughed slightly. "If I may suggest, Ron, it might be a good idea if you went up to your dorm. You've been through a very trying day, rest might do you some good."
"If Harry's staying with Hermione overnight, then I am, too."
Professor McGonagall cleared her throat. "I believe," she said icily. "That certain Heads of Houses need to give permission for that to happen."
"She seems fine… a little dazed maybe, but fine." Harry said, completely oblivious to everything going on around him. "She talked about… stuff that happened while she was unconscious and… I think she'll be fine."
Dumbledore not so subtly nudged Ron towards the exit. He grumbled but went, distinctly muttering, "Oh, Harry gets special treatment for snogging. Surprised Harry isn't shitting out gold or something…"
Harry barely noticed. "He's just a little angry with me," Harry explained, not seeming all that upset. "At least she's not in any more pain, right?"
Madam Pomfrey sniffed. "After the soother I just gave her? I would think not."
Harry nodded, feeling slightly relieved. He glanced accusingly at Madam Pomfrey. "You didn't think she'd wake up," he said quietly.
"Mr. Potter, if I had known what would happen, I would not be a school nurse. I'd be teaching Divination. And doing quite a good job of it."
Harry stopped listening. He held Hermione's hand and listened to her snore. He felt her forehead again. He was relieved to feel that it had cooled down significantly. He studied her face, trying to determine if she would have any lasting side effects.
He heard Dumbledore shoo everyone out the door. Madam Pomfrey gave him a reproachful look before leaving. "No sharing beds!"
Harry barely shrugged. He shut off the light in the room and kneeled down next to Hermione again, planning on staying right where he was. He rested his head on the bed, closing his eyes. Though he was bone tired, he knew he'd stay awake until she needed him.
----
It was the early hours of the morning when Hermione awoke. Harry, who had yet to fall asleep, watched in horror as she let out a dull screech of pain and thrashed around.
"No… no… no…" she whimpered. "Not again…"
Harry felt a lump gather in his throat. "Hermione…" he whispered.
"What's happening?" she said.
Harry swallowed. "It's just a dream," he said, soothingly. "You're only dreaming…" He found her hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "Wake up…"
She opened her eyes, trembling and sweating. Her eyes lit up hopefully when she saw him. She threw her arms around his neck, pulling him down on top of her. "I don't understand… what's happening to me…"
He held her tightly. "Nothing. You're safe. No one is hurting you."
She trembled slightly, pressing her face into the hollow of his neck. "It's seems so real…"
"I know. I know. It's not, though. It's just a nightmare. You're safe, you're with me, and that's all that matters." Suddenly worried that he might be crushing her, Harry rolled over. Hermione whimpered and Harry quickly propped himself on his elbow so he could stare down into her face. "Shhh… I'm here."
She clutched at him weakly. "Harry?"
"Shhh…" he said again, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Everything's okay."
She took a deep breath and Harry could visibly see her will her body to calm down. He watched her in admiration and she slowly stopped trembling and her breathing returned to normal. She even smiled slightly. "This wasn't how I was planning on getting you in bed," she said, weakly.
Harry blushed. "You… ah… what was that, exactly?"
She smiled, curling up into his arms. "Nothing. I just feel a little silly, that's all."
He pressed her closer, her head resting on his chest. "Don't feel silly. Hermione… I understand."
She nodded. "I suppose you do."
Harry yawned sleepily. "Madam Pomfrey is going to kill me."
She grasped his shirt in one hand. "Don't leave."
"I'm not. I'm just saying… this might be the last night that we're together."
She looked up at him. "Well, if that's the case, do you think that maybe you could kiss me? It's been a while and I think that…"
"I would love to," Harry said with a grin, bending down.
Harry felt his knees weaken when their lips met. The kiss was tender and he closed his eyes, desperate to reassure himself that she was alive. He cupped her cheek, deepening the kiss. Her hands gripped the back of his neck, almost painfully. Their noses brushed slightly and Harry smiled against her lips. He pulled away, pressing kisses to her cheeks and the tip of her nose as her skin heated up under his touch.
"Oh, Harry…" she whispered.
He lifted his head up to peer at her. "What?"
"Don't stop!" she yelped.
"Oh… okay…" a lazy smiled spread across his face, as he bent down, peppering kisses across her brow.
Her hands somehow managed to find their way into his hair, tickling his head and making him feel slightly giddy. She turned her face, meeting his lips again and they shared another long, lingering kiss.
"Oh… that was… that was…" she said breathlessly, when they parted.
Harry didn't say anything, as her hands were still in his hair and he found it very distracting. Bending down again, he trailed kisses down her neck, grinning slightly when she arched against him. His hands moved down her sides, resting on her hips. She squealed slightly, dissolving into laughter again.
"Harry… that tickles…"
Harry kissed her again, partly in an attempt to make her shut up, and partly because she tasted so good. He wondered, vaguely, if all girls tasted this good or if it was just Hermione and if it was just Hermione, why had he spent five years not kissing her every day?
He studied her as he pulled away. Her eyes were shinning slightly in the darkness, her pose much more relaxed. Though she still pressed herself against him, she wasn't holding on like he might disappear at any moment. And, Harry discovered, she was grinning happily at him.
"You're such a guy," she said, sounding almost disappointed.
"I am not!" he cried, insulted, though not quite sure why he was insulted.
Her hands left his hair and traced over his face, her fingers tracing small patterns over his nose and cheeks. "You are, too."
Harry really wished she'd stop touching him so. It made him want to kiss her again. And though he could hardly see that as bad, he was fairly certain she was ready to talk. "Oh?" he managed.
"Yeah. You care more about snogging than… well… anything else, really."
Harry was forced to admit that she had a point. Her fingers were still tracing his face and he was trying very hard to pay attention to what she was saying. "It's because you're very kissable," he said, slightly breathless.
Her eyes twinkled happily at him. She finally lowered her hands to his shoulders so she could cuddle up to him. "You're very kissable, too," she replied, a smile on her lips.
Harry flushed and tried to make his head stop spinning. He wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her forehead. "When did I get taller than you?"
She shifted slightly. Harry found the move very distracting. "You've been taller than me for ages."
"Yes, but now I'm a full head taller than you and wider, too. And you fit really well against me, have you noticed that?"
She giggled. Hermione giggled. Harry had an inexplicable urge to make her giggle again. "It's called puberty. We mature, grow out of our childhood bodies…"
"Yeah," Harry said, grinning. "Puberty's all well and good if it means I'm allowed to kiss you."
Hermione giggled again and Harry felt an odd sense of victory. "See? Snogging. That's all you guys ever think about."
She was, as she most often was, right. He tried to ignore the way that she kept shifting against him and settled for running his hand up and down her arm. He shut his eyes, content at having her near, alive, and awake.
"Harry?" she asked, her tone hesitant.
He opened his eyes. "You want to know what it was like for me after Voldermort…"
She nodded. "I know… I heard you telling Ron about it, but I was just wondering… the nightmares, do they ever stop?"
"I don't know, Hermione."
She glanced up at him, her face thin and desperate for answers. "But for you… do you still have nightmares about…"
He shrugged. "I have lots of nightmares. Some of them are about Voldermort and when he tortured me. Some are about him killing Cedric. Some of them are about the night Voldermort killed my parents. Most of them are of Sirius dying…" he trailed off. "Recently they've been about you."
"Oh," Hermione whispered, faintly.
He tightened his hold on her. "It will never go away. You will always have to live with what happened. But you don't have to do it alone."
Hermione shivered slightly. "I can still… feel it. I've never felt anything more horrible. Why would someone want to inflict that kind of pain on another human being?"
Harry couldn't quite meet her eyes. "Hate, I guess. Hate that we can't even imagine."
Hermione pondered that quietly for a moment. "Then, I think it'd almost be worse, being the person using the Unforgivable Curse. Especially… understanding the pain that it causes…"
Harry tensed. "I did," he said softly.
She blinked at him in incomprehension. "What are you…." Harry met her eyes. "Oh, I see," she whispered, faintly. "When?"
"After Sirius…" Harry looked away from her, ashamed. "There was a moment when I wanted more than anything for Bellatrix to suffer for what she'd done. It didn't really work, though. It sort of sputtered out…"
"Look at me," Hermione said sharply.
Harry slowly met her gaze. Instead of the blame he expected to see, he saw her lips curve into a small, sad smile.
"So let me get this straight," Hermione said. "After you saw your godfather murdered in front of you, you were angry enough to use the cruciatus curse on his murderer. His murderer being someone that would have eagerly killed you, given the chance. But, most importantly, you're saying that it didn't work. That you tried the curse and that it didn't work."
Harry just nodded.
"Well, I don't think that has anything to do with your abilities, Harry," she said seriously. "You just don't have it in you to use the Cruciatus curse, that's all. Despite all the hate you were feeling at the moment… you still couldn't make it effective. That tells me a lot about you."
Harry buried his face in her hair and breathed deeply. "Thank you," he said, hoarsely.
She swallowed. "Do you blame yourself very much for what happened to me?"
He thought about lying to her, but he figured she would see right through it anyway. "Yes," he replied, tersely.
"Well, don't," she said, sounding irritated. "It's certainly not your fault that people are hateful."
"Hermione," he whispered, "this wouldn't have happened if you hadn't gone out with me. It might not have been my fault, but it was still because of me."
She pressed her cheek against his chest. "I don't blame you."
"I don't think I would be able to stand it, if you did."
"Well, it's not your fault," she said again. "And I wouldn't change what happened between us that night in the common room for anything."
"Yeah, that part was pretty good," Harry said with a grin. "Though, lying to Ron probably wasn't very smart. Passing notes in Snape's class was just downright stupid. And leaving you alone after that article came out was the most idiot thing I have ever done… and I've done a lot of really idiotic things."
"Harry," she said softly. "You can't protect me every minute of every day."
"Yes, I can," he replied stubbornly.
"No, you can't," she said witheringly. "And I wouldn't want you to, either. I'm more than capable of taking care of myself. I'm not completely stupid when it comes to defensive magic."
"I know," Harry said quietly. "Madam Pomfrey said that the only Noxon didn't…." He swallowed with difficult. "She said that your shielding charm probably saved your life."
"You taught it to me. Last year… in D.A, you taught it to me."
"Well…" he said, with difficulty. "It just goes to show… I can and will protect you."
She smiled sweetly. "Really, Harry, you don't have to go for the whole 'protective male' thing. It's sort of… insulting, honestly. Like you think I'm not capable of taking care of myself."
Harry stared at her for a long time, all traces of good humour gone from his face. "You don't understand."
She blinked at him. "Don't understand what?"
"When I thought that…" Harry trailed off and started again. "If I thought about losing you… it was… terrifying. You don't… you didn't see what I went through when you were in here. It's not that I don't think you can't take care of yourself. I know you can. I just…"
"I understand," she said, interrupting him. "I do."
Harry wrapped her in his arms tightly and gently touched his lips to her forehead. "You can protect me, too," he finally said.
She snickered. "Merlin knows, you probably need more protection than I do."
"Haha," Harry muttered.
"We'll protect each other."
Her words sent a pleasurable warm feeling through Harry. "Hermione, that was so sappy. But… yeah, let's do that."
"Hey, Harry?" she asked, her tone slightly teasing. "Would you really have killed Jane Noxon had I never awoken?"
"Yes."
"That's very sweet. I mean, in an 'I'm Crazy and I Need to Enact Revenge' kind of way. Still… it's kind of sweet."
Harry sighed. "I dunno if I would've, Hermione. I'm trying not to think about what I would have done if she'd killed you, okay?"
She nodded seriously and relaxed into his arms, closing her eyes. "Good idea."
Harry enjoyed the way she felt in his arms. She was warm and so very soft, and he marveled again at how perfectly her body seemed to melt against his. He felt relaxed and peaceful, perfectly content to stay right where he was. Suddenly, Hermione burst out laughing and Harry gave a small start of surprise.
"I get it!" she said, laughing. "Why it doesn't make any sense! That I would end up with you…"
Harry frowned, totally bewildered. "Hermione, really… that's not very… nice."
"No!" she said, still laughing. "I mean, me! I understand, why people think it's so weird that we've ended up together. I mean, you're a hero and internationally famous and I'm just… plain, old, Muggle-born Hermione. The greatest thing I ever did was pass all my O.W.L.'s with flying colours. And you… you're Harry Potter. Well, it's just funny."
Harry didn't think it was very funny. "Hermione, what are you talking about? You're exactly who should be with me."
She suddenly went still. "Not according to most of the wizarding world."
Harry frowned. "Don't give me that," he said in a low voice. "You know me, you understand me. You're the only one who can see past the fame and the scar on my forehead. You see me for what I am… not the image. You're going out with Harry, just Harry. Not bloody Harry Potter."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Don't take that tone with me. I'm not stupid, I'm well aware of how I view you."
Harry felt frustrated. "Hermione, I'm telling you the truth," he said, quietly. "You know me better than anyone. Sometimes I think you are the only one that knows me."
He kissed her softly, driving the point home. He tangled his hands in her hair, gently nursing her mouth with his own. The kiss was slow and deliberate and Harry quickly lost himself in the warm taste of her mouth. He felt her heart thumping in her chest and she let out a tiny moan of pleasure. When Harry pulled away, he was hoping that she would let the subject drop.
It almost seemed as if she would. She leaned against him after the kiss, her eyes slightly glazed over and breathing harshly. Just when Harry thought he was free, she said. "I know. I guess I just understand how other people would look at us. And it is slightly ridiculous."
"It is not!"
She smiled charmingly. "It doesn't really matter what others think."
Harry, certain that he already knew that, and becoming increasingly confused, just nodded.
She yawned. "Don't listen to me, I'm just tired."
Harry didn't have the faintest bloody idea what she was talking about. He rubbed her back soothingly. "Hermione… would you please just… tell me what's wrong."
She just shook her head, leaning up to peck him on the chin. "Nothing. Nothing is wrong."
"Okay…" he replied uncertainly.
She frowned, closing her eyes. "How are things going with Ron?"
"Oh, well, they're, um… getting better… I think…"
"He was really wonderful to me when I first woke up. I think I terrified him slightly, but…."
Harry frowned. "Yeah, he's been fairly, well, mature… all things considered. He stuck by me, us, when you were in here. I know it hurts him to see us together."
"He'd do anything for either of us, Harry."
Harry smiled. "He would. I think it's just going to take him some…"
"Time?"
"Yeah."
Hermione sounded half-asleep when she said. "I thought I heard you guys getting along like normal."
Harry sighed. "Well, we would do our homework, or talk about what's wrong with you, or he would tell me that he thought I was going insane, but… besides our one match, we never really talked about Quidditch."
Hermione's eyes opened drowsily. "Quidditch? What does that have to do with anything?"
"If Ron and I can talk about Quidditch, then things are okay. Do you know how long it's been since he's asked me about the Chudley Canons?" Harry's voice tinged with regret. "If he can't ask me about his favourite Quidditch team it means my opinion means nothing to him."
Hermione contemplated that for a moment before frowning. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."
"Shut up," Harry said half-heartedly. "And go to sleep. You're exhausted."
"So are you."
"Fine," he replied. "I'll go to sleep, too."
"Well, if you really are going to be killed in the morning, I just want to say that I think Quidditch is an awfully stupid thing to hold back your friendship with Ron."
Harry knew she was right and that annoyed him. "Hermione, go to sleep," he said again.
She pressed herself tighter against him, closing her eyes. Within seconds, the sounds of her light snoring filled the room again and he smiled a little. Closing his eyes himself, he felt safer and more relaxed than he could ever remember being.