Authors Note: I'm glad I was able to provide you with another fairly quick update, however my school work is now starting to pick up again so it looks like I will be producing about a chapter a week from now on. I hope you enjoy it.
Hermione stumbled into her flat and although it was only around seven thirty at night, she was worn and exhausted. She quickly performed a heating charm on the roast beef that was left in the fridge earlier that day, and when she was finished with her dinner, she changed into her pyjamas and climbed into bed.
As tired as she was, she couldn't seem to fall asleep. Plagued with guilt and the pain of losing Ron, she began to cry again. She finally cried herself to sleep past ten o'clock.
She woke around eleven the next morning, got up, and put on a pot of coffee, one of several muggle appliances she insisted on having in the wizarding world, while she picked up the Daily Prophet. On the cover was the following headline:
The Passing of a Hero
By Rita Skeeter
Underneath the title was a photograph of Ron.
Hermione threw down the paper; she had no desire to read what Rita Skeeter had written, even if it was about Ron. She shut off the coffee pot, went into her bedroom, changed into a pair of jeans and a shirt, and then put on her favourite casual robe, which was very similar to the robes worn at Hogwarts.
She walked down the two flights of stairs and headed out the doors into Diagon Alley. Once there, she sat down at a small café and ordered bacon and eggs with toast and coffee. When her breakfast arrived, she ate quickly and paid the bill to leave, then apparated directly to St Mungo's.
As she walked into Harry's room, she saw Mr. Weasley sleeping in a chair. She walked over and gently shook him awake.
"Mr. Weasley, go home and get some sleep. It's been a rough couple of days, you need to rest."
Mr. Weasley rose and bid Hermione goodbye. She then took Mr. Weasley's seat and pulled out her favourite book: Hogwarts A History.
Even though she had read it so many times she was as engrossed in it as ever, and almost jumped out of her skin when she heard a familiar voice say
"You're reading that again?"
Hermione slammed her book shut and looked over at the bed and saw Harry trying to prop himself up. Just then, two healers ran into the room; the sensor charms had sent a signal to the front desk when Harry had woken from his coma.
While Harry was being examined, he kept asking Hermione questions.
"How long have I been out of it?" Harry asked
"Over two months," one of the Healers answered.
Harry was astounded, he couldn't believe he had been unconscious for so long.
"Hermione, I need to know something; was I successful?" He was wracking his brain trying to remember, but the last thing he could remember was being surrounded by the spirits and sending the light at Voldemort.
"Yes Harry, you were. Voldemort's gone for good." At the sound of that name, both Healers shuddered.
After one of the Healers stepped out of the way, Hermione was in Harry's view again; she had tears streaming down her face. What he didn't know was that these tears were a combination of joy for Harry being awake, and Ron being gone.
"Mr. Potter, you seem to be of excellent health. The time you spent in a coma appears to have strengthened you. We would like you to stay for a few more observations, but then you are free to go," the senior of the two Healers explained.
"Harry, I'll be back in a few minutes, I'm going to go floo the Weasleys and let them know you're awake," Hermione said.
"Great, I'd love to see Ron!"
Hermione paused, the tears welling up in her eyes once again.
"Harry, Ron didn't make it." Before she continued, she vowed she would never tell Harry about the Fates, or about her meeting with Ron, she would try to keep a happy face on the outside, hiding her guilt and depression for when she was in private. "They don't know what spell hit him, he too was in St. Mungo's but he passed away a few days ago. His funeral was yesterday, I'm sorry."
Harry was stunned, he began to join Hermione in crying while Hermione came over and sat on the edge of Harry's bed. Together, they cried for Ron and for everyone else they had lost.
Hermione sat there and told him everything she knew about the battle; who was killed, who was injured, and how Draco seemed to have changed sides, even attending Ron's funeral. Harry told Hermione of the final moments of the battle which astounded her, and she vowed to do research on what had occurred. They talked for several hours, and didn't even notice Mrs. Weasley walk in.
"Harry! You're awake!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed with mixed emotions, which were once again joy for Harry and sorrow for Ron.
Not one minute after Mrs. Weasley arrived, a healer came in and told Harry he was free to go.
"Harry, you must come to stay at the Burrow," Mrs. Weasley offered.
Although Harry loved the Burrow, he wasn't sure he would be comfortable staying there knowing Ron had just passed away.
"Mrs. Weasley, I love your offer, I really do, but in light of what happened, I find it might be too much for me to handle. I think I'll get a room at The Leaky Cauldron," Harry responded.
Mrs. Weasley nodded, "I thought that might have been the case, but I thought I should extend the invitation anyway."
"Harry, I have a flat in Diagon Alley not too far from the Leaky Cauldron. It has a spare bedroom. Why don't you come stay with me? There are no memories there," Hermione said.
"Hermione, I think that is an excellent idea, that way he won't be alone," Mrs. Weasley responded.
Harry thought about it for a moment and then agreed.
Hermione and Mrs. Weasley left the room while Harry changed. His clothing had all been in the dormitory at Hogwarts; he took it there before the final battle and had been transferred to St. Mungo's several days after he had been taken in.
Half an hour later, after promising Mrs. Weasley that they would have dinner as soon as they arrived, Harry and Hermione apparated to her flat, using side along apparation because she insisted that Harry was not fit to do so himself.
She showed him his room, which was rather plain. It had a double bed, a small table with a lamp on it and a dresser. After he deposited his trunk in the room, Hermione showed him around the rest of the flat.
"Harry, I'm going to cook dinner now, go have a shower and relax. You need your rest."
"Hermione, I've been asleep for over two months. I think I've had enough rest. You're the one who looks like you need some, you look a wreck. Go take a nap, I'll take a shower and then I'll prepare the dinner," Harry replied.
Hermione relented and agreed Harry would cook dinner, but she refused to go take a nap. Instead, she sat down on her couch. Thoughts of Ron ran through her head and she felt incredibly guilty. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that she, Hermione Jane Granger, was a murderer; she had killed a good person. Not only was he a good person, but he was her fiancé.
Harry walked out of the bathroom and went over to the refrigerator and looked at its contents. He decided to grab a tomato, some peppers and feta cheese. He then looked in the cupboards and gathered some pasta. After he set the pasta on to boil, he sat down next to Hermione on the couch. Tears were silently falling down her face.
"I miss him too Hermione, I miss him too," he soothed.
After dinner, Harry convinced Hermione to play a game of exploding snap with him. After several rounds, Hermione announced that she was tired and was going to bed. She bid Harry goodnight, walked into her room and changed into her pyjamas. She wasn't really all that tired yet and although she loved Harry's company, she wanted to be alone for a while. She knew he needed sleep but she knew it wouldn't come for several hours. She then remembered that her mother had given her some sleeping pills; they were in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom.
The bathroom had two entrances, one from her bedroom and one from the hallway. Hermione opened the cabinet, but as she reached for the bottle of pills, she knocked her razor off of the shelf. It fell and as she reached to pick it up she cut her finger on the blade. She watched the blood begin to gently flow out of her finger. It hurt, but it also felt like a great release. She picked up the razor and began to stare at it. She got a sudden urge to feel that pain again, and as she lowered the blade towards her arm, the bathroom door opened.
Harry stood there in shock.
"Hermione, please don't do what I think you were about to do."
She began to shake in shock as the rational part of her mind returned. She dropped the razor into the sink and began to cry. Harry walked up to her and gave her a hug.
"Hermione, no pain is worth you hurting yourself. Promise me. Promise me that you won't even think about doing that again."
Hermione nodded.
"Come on, let's go have a mug of hot chocolate."
Harry went into the kitchen while Hermione followed. They ended up sitting in there for about a half an hour. In that time, Hermione filled Harry in on the last two months as well as her plan to return to Hogwarts at the start of term.
"I want to go back to Hogwarts too," Harry said at the end.
"Harry, I think it is time we both turn in now," Hermione responded.
Harry realised he was much more tired than he thought, and agreed.
"Goodnight Hermione."
"Goodnight Harry."
Harry was asleep by the time his head hit the pillow so he didn't hear Hermione cry herself to sleep.
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