The next few years passed with a few changes for Harry and the Weasleys. Ginny got a job at Quality Quidditch Supplies, allowing her frequent visits to see Fred and George at their shop in her spare time. She and Ron moved out of the Burrow and got a place together, which made their mother worry about them constantly, but it was better than the alternative of her and Dean living together. That indeed would have driven their mother mad, not to mention that Ron would have gotten all upset too with his over protectiveness. Mr. Weasley had been given a promotion at the Ministry. Everyone was very glad to see him finally get some recognition. Harry still worked as a bartender and continued his duties with the Order of the Phoenix. Although many of the Death Eaters had been captured, Voldemort was still gaining new recruits. Things were plenty busy for the Order, but fairly uneventful for Harry. He hadn't had a girlfriend in a while; he'd been busy and had gotten rather discouraged besides. He and Hermione saw each other only around birthdays and other special occasions. She was happy. She'd told him that she and Bret were trying to have a baby.
Bret had just left to go out, and Hermione was absorbed in a book when Ginny's head appeared in the fire.
"I'm glad you're here," Ginny said, her voice shaking.
Hermione jumped. "What is it? You scared me!"
"Don't get mad, Hermione. It's important. I couldn't wait for an owl to arrive."
The urgency in Ginny's voice and her expression made the color suddenly drain from Hermione's face.
"Ginny," she began, almost afraid to hear more, "What's happened?"
"It's Harry. He…he's not doing so well."
"What do you mean?" Hermione was almost in a panic now. "Where is he? What happened to him?"
"He faced you-know-who. Harry won, though; he defeated him. Gone for good he is now, but…let's just say Harry didn't get away as easily as we'd have hoped. He's in St. Mungo's right now."
"Oh…oh no, this can't be…not Harry," Hermione said weakly and put her hand over her mouth in horror.
"Dumbledore thought you'd want to know," Ginny said, looking at Hermione sadly, "in case…"
"No, don't say it. Please, don't say it," Hermione pleaded, now reduced to tears and shaking.
"You'll come then?" Ginny asked pleadingly.
"Of course I'll come. I'll be right there. I have to be with him," she said, and without even telling Ginny good-bye, Hermione rushed from the room to change faster than she'd ever done before.
A minute later, she had apparated at the hospital. Once inside she was desperate to find out what room Harry was in. Luckily the line at the inquiries desk wasn't long.
Hermione was still shaking when it was her turn to talk to the welcome witch. "I'm here to see Harry Potter," she said, feeling as if it had been an eternity since Ginny had appeared in the fire to tell her what had happened.
"Harry Potter…yes, fourth floor all the way down on the right," the woman replied with a business-as-usual tone of voice.
The other people around Hermione were annoyed when she took off at a run, one woman shouting after her, "You're in a hospital, you know!"
Oblivious to everything else around her, she ran all the way up the flights of stairs and didn't stop until reaching Harry's room. Ron, the twins, Mr. Weasley, Tonks, and Moody were outside in the hallway looking very somber. Hermione looked at Ron with an expression of what could only be described as desperation. She didn't have the courage to speak or simply didn't know what to say.
He hugged her. "It's alright. Go on in. They're expecting you."
She pushed the door open carefully and went inside to find a teary-eyed Mrs. Weasley in a chair next to Harry's bed, Dumbledore and Lupin standing around the side with their backs to her. There were no other patients. Harry had been given a room to himself. This was unusual at St. Mungo's, and Hermione realized just how serious his condition must be. Both men turned to face her and Lupin came closer to talk to her. He put his hands on her shoulders and spoke in a voice barely above a whisper.
"I must warn you, Hermione, that he doesn't look good. You must be strong."
"I can handle it, sir. Just please, let me get close to him," she said earnestly.
Lupin nodded and with a hand still on her shoulder, ushered her nearer Harry's bed. She took one look at him and silent tears came again, flowing even more freely than before. He lay unconscious, his hands bandaged up. His handsome face was badly scraped and cut like he had been dragged on the ground, and his scar…Hermione couldn't believe her eyes - it looked fresh and was slowly oozing blood. It was just too terrible. She was in shock, but didn't turn away.
"Is he going to be alright?" she asked weakly. There was a brief silence and then Dumbledore answered.
"That remains to be seen," he said gently. "We have hope."
"No one really knows what kind of curse or combination of curses he's been hit with or what else might have happened. He went off on his own to face Voldemort and only left a note. Later on, Moody and a few others from the Order went to look for him and found him in this state. All the Healers know is that his temperature has been dropping slowly ever since he got here." Lupin added, "They're doing the best they can."
Mrs. Weasley gave a little sob and wiped her eyes.
"I wonder if he can hear us," Hermione said thoughtfully as she looked at him with affection.
"We don't know, but if he can, he has no way of responding," answered Lupin.
Hermione sat on the bed and took Harry's bandaged hand. "I'm here," she said, stroking it tenderly.
Lupin and Dumbledore exchanged knowing glances. She would do well to be alone with him.
"Remus, I think I would like a bit of tea. Perhaps Molly would care to join us," he said kindly.
Clearly not wanting to leave Harry, but unable to refuse Dumbledore, Mrs. Weasley got up. She hugged Hermione.
"Take care of him now, will you?" she asked.
"Yes, yes, I will," Hermione assured her before they left the room.
For a long while she just sat there, looking at him and crying. She touched his closed eyes and wondered if she'd ever see them open again. What if he didn't wake up or ended up in a vegetative state that he couldn't come out of? Carefully, Hermione ran her fingers over his scraped cheek and down to his lips - those lips that used to smile at her so often and had met her own when they'd kissed so long ago. All the while she still held his hand. There was no way she could leave him like this. It didn't matter if he could sense her presence or not. Then she remembered something…something someone had said three years before and was all but forgotten.
"Evil will bring the one you love to death's door… you can save him..."
Hermione had always assumed until now that the Seer had been talking about Bret. His job was fairly dangerous, and he was the one she loved…wasn't he?
Oh think, Hermione, think, she said to herself. What was it that Ruby had told her to do? Then it came to her - "You must lie down beside him so that the cold of death can't enter his body and claim him."
The cold of death - she shuddered at the thought. Lupin had said his temperature had been dropping, and when she'd been caressing his face, he actually was quite cold. Feeling helpless, Hermione did the only thing that she could do and followed Ruby's instructions. She stretched out on the bed beside Harry and placed her arm across his chest. Horrified, she nestled close as if her own life depended on it and hoping that it wasn't too late. Soon, she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
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