The final battle is over, and Harry has won. But now he has another challenge facing him. A challenge where magic can't help him. He has to be brave for her. H/Hr.
I own nothing, and I'm not making any money from this. Please don't sue.
White.
It was the first thing he saw. The white blankness of the hospital ward. He sat up and looked around, searching for some type of reminder that would tell him what day it was. How long he'd been here.
May 23, 2006.
Only one day, he thought to himself. But that one day had made the difference. He could hardly believe that it had just been yesterday that he had met his fate. It felt distant, yet burned painfully in his mind. Voldemort was gone. It didn't feel real. But as Harry James Potter recalled the events of the previous night, he felt all the pain all over again. He remembered.
Hermione.
Harry laid back down slowly at the thought. He remembered how bravely she'd fought. He remembered how she had been there the whole time. He remembered how she had thrown herself in front of the black light, to save him. To give him one last chance. Tears clouded his vision. But somehow, he felt that she wasn't gone. He still could somehow feel her presence.
He knew she was there.
Though his mind was cloudy, thoughts began racing through his head. Hermione got hit with black light. My parents, Cedric, everyone I saw die was hit with green light. Avada Kedavra is green.
Could she possibly still be alive?
He sat up again, quickly this time. He was hit with a sudden dizziness and fell back. But the noise had been heard, and Madame Pomfrey was on her way.
"Well," she said as she bustled around, taking Harry's vitals. "We're awake, now are we. You're going to be fine, but there were some nasty curses you got hit with. I wanted to give you a memory erasement charm, but nooo, Dumbledore wants you to remember, to know, to understand..."
She continued, talking more to herself than to Harry.
"But all that trauma, I wouldn't be surprised if you didn't remember anything anyway. You'll need to get over the stress, you won't be able to convey feelings, you probably don't remember any..."
"Hermione."
Madame Pomfrey turned with a start. She looked at Harry as though he had just sprouted six more heads.
"Hermione," he insisted.
"Now Harry, you need to rest and not worry your head, you'll have enough to worry about once you regain your rational thought."
Much to her surprise, he sat up determinedly, and spoke in an unexpectedly even, steady tone.
"I have my rational thought. And I remember everything. I remember the battle. I remember when he died. And I remember Hermione jumping in front of a black stream of light from his wand. A curse. I remember everything. Now I just want to know. Is Hermione alive?"
Madame Pomfrey looked at Harry again. She absentmindedly began checking his vitals again. But he refused to give up.
"Is. Hermione. Dead."
Madame Pomfrey sighed. She went over to the fireplace, and kneeled next to it.
"Professor Dumbledore," she called into the fire.
A very old, tired, yet still very alive Dumbledore appeared in the flames.
"Yes, Poppy?"
"It's Harry Potter. He's awake, and speaking. He's asking for Miss Granger."
There was a pop, and the fireplace flames burst forth higher than ever. Professor Dumbledore stepped out into the hospital wing, his face gray but his eyes sparkling. Madame Pomfrey pointed toward the bed where Harry sat very stiffly.
"Harry," Dumbledore declared. "Madame Pomfrey seems to believe that you are awake. I find that quite obvious myself. Although it is surprising that you are speaking so soon, many people in situations as precarious as yours was..."
"Professor. I know how precarious my situation was. I remember everything. I don't care how surprising it is that I'm speaking! The point is that I am, and nobody is listening! I just want to know whether Hermione Granger is alive or dead. Please."
Dumbledore sighed, and sat down on the bed. He looked at Harry with understanding eyes. Harry sat up straighter, and used his last bit of resolve to reiterate.
"Please."
"Headmaster, the boy is fragile-"
"I am NOT FRAGILE!!! And don't talk about me like I'm not here! I'm here! My head is working fine! And I asked a simple question! And the answer means everything to me! Please tell me. IS SHE ALIVE OR NOT!!!" Harry sounded furious, and his voice was filled with desperation. "Headmaster. I need to know. After everything I've been through. After everything that she went through that was my fault. Please tell me. I can take it. I need to know, Professor."
Professor Dumbledore looked at Harry, and then at Madame Pomfrey.
"Poppy, the boy needs to know. He has every right. Would you please excuse us for a minute? I want to talk to Harry, alone."
Madame Pomfrey, defeated and frustrated, threw up her hands and left the room, mumbling to herself. Dumbledore watched her leave, and then turned his attention back to Harry, who was still stiffly sitting on the bed.
"Hermione." Harry wasted no time. Dumbledore would tell him, he just knew.
"I know that you are very concerned about Hermione. Madame Pomfrey had her reasons for not wanting to tell you, but it is not because Hermione is dead. Much to the contrary, in fact. Hermione Granger is alive, but barely. She is unconscious. The curse that she was hit with was extremely strong Dark magic, and its long-term effects are unknown. We do not know when or if she will wake, and if she does, we have no idea in what mental or emotional state she will be. Most of the curse's victims do not live past the initial hit to tell the tale."
Tears once again welled up in Harry's eyes. Tears of happiness, because she wasn't dead, but tears of grief, because he had no idea how she was. Would she ever wake up? Would she recognize him? Would she ever have the ability to think like she once had? Was it possible that she would still die? Harry, overtaken with feeling, could not speak.
"Hermione survived the blast, however. She was protected by devotion. You didn't want her to die, and Fawkes felt that devotion. He died in her place, but was not able to protect her from the rest of the curse. Now, Harry, the possibility still exists that she may not live. But Madame Pomfrey believes that she will. What we are most worried about, however, is in what condition she will be when she awakes. Madame Pomfrey did not want to tell you, because she did not want you to become depressed during your own recovery. I am very sorry to say that Miss Granger may not ever be able to think in the same way again. She may have lost her ability to speak. This is the worst case, however. I am trying to prepare you, because I know that the next thing out of your mouth will be "when can I see her". She may be able to recover, but to do that, she needs positive energy. The effects of this type of curse can be lessened by love. Dark wizards have no love, and no defense against it. The most important thing for us to do for her, if anything, is to love her. Still, she may never be the way she once was. But Harry, it was you who saved her. Your devotion to her brought Fawkes."
Harry felt a huge lump in his throat. "No, I didn't! I didn't save her. I put her in that situation. If it wasn't for me, she wouldn't be almost dead. It is my fault that she isn't up in the common room right now, reading Hogwarts, A History for the 16 thousandth time! It is all my fault!" He took in a shaky sigh. He fought back the tears that were stinging his eyes. "I want to see her. I want to tell her I'm sorry. I need her to know. If she dies before I get to say I'm sorry..." His body racked him with sobs.
"She won't, Harry. You may see her, but remember, love is the only thing that has a chance at saving her. You have to be there for her. She may be competent in mind. We don't know. If she can think, hearing your voice will give her the strength to fight. If she cannot, it will still help her. And you. You may see her." With that, he stood up, a tiny crystal tear in his eye. He helped Harry up, and led him into another room. Madame Pomfrey stood by, clicking her tongue in displeasure.
"Are you sure, Headmaster? I don't think-"
"Poppy, Harry needs to see her. And she needs him. You and I both know that. He needs to go."
Weakly, Harry followed Professor Dumbledore into a slightly darker room. There, on a bed, laying very still, was Hermione.