A/N - This chapter is a little shorter than the previous ones, but I believe there's a good bit of stuff packed into it. Quite enough to start some ideas forming on the direction I'm going in and probably just little enough to make you hate me. Sorry about that.
I'm likely to be, er, indisposed over the next couple days, so I might not have another chapter up until I've sobered up. I've already written the end, though, so it's only a matter of getting there ;)
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"Hermione," Harry said in an odd voice. She looked up quickly from the potion she was brewing. "Did you heal one of my scars?"
"What?"
"Here," Harry pointed at his mutilated arm. "There was a big one, running down through the rest of them. But it's gone. I thought that, maybe, over the last couple days you got rid of it."
Hermione stepped over quickly and ran a gentle hand over the raised white scar tissue that dominated Harry's arm. She was never far from him these days. Harry wondered idly when she went home or slept. She always had been a bit of a mother hen.
"No... I'm sorry, but I can't get rid of scars," Hermione bit her lip. "I know, it sounds like it would be so easy, especially with everything else we can do. But, well- scars are more than physical sometimes."
"Then how come it's gone?"
"Are you, um, sure there was a scar there?" Hermione asked awkwardly.
"Yes," Harry replied coldly. "I know all my scars. D'you think I'm making it up? Or maybe you think I'm mental?"
"No!" Hermione denied quickly. "Of course not! It's just that... there are so many! I know I wouldn't be able to keep track of them all." As always, her voice broke a little when touching on the subject of his arm.
Harry stared at her distrustfully for a minute then, incredibly, his expression cleared.
"I shouldn'ta told yeh that! Forget I said it!" he joked, imitating Hagrid perfectly. For some reason, he felt a little bit lighter, a little bit brighter, than he had in a very long time. Instead of being completely black, the landscape of his mind was a midnight gray.
Hermione wore a startled look on her face, like a fish caught out of water. He almost laughed. Almost.
* * *
Hermione felt her mouth fall open; that kind of response was so unlikely with this new Harry. It was much more in line with the old Harry; MY Harry. Unable to help it, she giggled.
"That was perfect, Harry! You sounded just like him."
"How is he?" Harry asked casually. "I, uh, never got a chance to find out what happened with him in the final battle."
"Oh! Oh, he's fine, Harry!" Hermione responded. "What could hurt Hagrid? Especially with Grawp looming over him!"
"Does Grawp still call you 'Hermy'?"
"Um... well, yeah. But he's loads better behaved now."
"He would have to be," Harry remarked dryly.
Hermione glowed. This was the best she had seen Harry yet. She felt absurdly elated and extra nervous at the same time. She didn't want to do anything to break the mome-
A knock at the door interrupted them. A shadow passed over Harry's face and he said tonelessly, "Don't forget. My name is No One."
"Yes, I know," Hermione replied, crestfallen. A dozen steps carried her to the door and her spirit lifted slightly when she saw who it was.
"No One, look!" she called. "This is Healer Swift. She's the eldest and best healer here! I asked her if she could come take a look at you."
* * *
Healer Swift couldn't have resembled her name less. She was tall and heavy, but with muscle, not fat. She had a broad, no-nonsense face and a shock of close-cropped iron gray hair and beamed at Hermione, rather like an Aunt surveying a precocious niece.
"No One, is it?" she asked briskly, glancing at the clipboard in her hands. "Is that your true name?"
"Yes," Harry replied defensively.
"Hmmmmmm," Swift made a thoughtful noise.
"Well, no doubt you'll let us know when you're ready. I'm sure you have your reasons."
"I told you, I'm No One!" Harry retorted angrily.
"Of course, dear," Swift replied, not unkindly, discarding the clipboard on a low table. "Now, Hermione told me the results of her scan, but I'm just going to double check, ok? Just relax, it'll take but a moment."
Harry scowled and bunched up his shoulders, but didn't say anything. He was expecting her to reach out her hand like Hermione had done, but the old healer merely looked at him. A tingling sensation swept through Harry, but nothing like what had happened with Hermione.
"Hmmmm, yes," Swift said thoughtfully. "I believe your diagnosis was correct, Hermione."
Hermione colored, but looked quite pleased with herself.
"What, you're done?" Harry blurted.
"Of course."
"But- it wasn't anything like when Hermione did it! It felt like I was being plunged in hot and cold water then, but this time it was only a tingling sensation."
"That's-," Hermione whispered, looking down, "that's because I'm not very good yet."
"Nonsense," Swift admonished her sternly.
"Healer Hermione," she continued to Harry, "is exceptionally good. You're lucky she found you. She just needs practice. She tends to overdo it a bit when she gets excited."
Hermione blushed again.
"Healer Swift," she said quickly, changing the subject. "I thought maybe I could take No One outside and he could get some fresh air. A walk, you know?"
"Yes," Swift said, now peering into Harry's eyes. "Yes, I think that would do him good. Be sure you check out and back in with Helga."
"I will," promised Hermione.
"Good, good... now, if I could, a private word with you please."
"O-Ok."
"Well, come along then," Swift shuttled Hermione towards the door.
"Don't you worry, young man," Swift called back over her shoulder as she exited the room with Hermione. "You're going to be just fine."
* * *
Outside the door, Hermione stood twisting her hands nervously as Swift regarded her.
"So," Swift started, fixing Hermione with a beady eye. "You found this, No One, in Hogsmeade in his current wretched condition?"
"Y-yeah. I couldn't just leave him there like that."
"Mmmhmmm. I understand. Do you know what happened to that man? I've never seen such trauma; any other human being I've ever treated would already been dead."
"I, um, no," Hermione looked away. "I just found him like that."
"Mmmmmm."
"He is going to be ok, right?" Hermione asked in a panicked voice, looking up at Swift.
"Oh, yes. I'm sure he will. He's the toughest person I've ever seen. If he made it this far, he'll certainly make it the rest of the way. But he's definitely quite... brittle, in other ways."
"Yes," Hermione whispered. "I noticed."
Swift gave Hermione another piercing look. It was characteristic of the gaze Dumbledore used to give people, like he could see right through you.
"Now, would you mind telling me exactly what's going on?"
Hermione opened her mouth.
"Don't bother lying to me. You're a terrible liar. I've seen you the last few days. I know you've spent every one of them sleeping in the nurse's quarters here, when you sleep at all. If I need you for anything, I know exactly where to find you," Swift glanced meaningfully to the door to Harry's room.
Hermione said nothing.
"Now, listen up here young lady," Swift continued. "There's no shame if you're in love with this young man, but you know our policies about that."
"Love?" Hermione repeated, dumbstruck. "Love? No, no. I mean, yes, but-!"
Hermione took a deep breath.
"Ok, I lied, I'm sorry. I do know him. I do love him; he's a very good friend. The best. He never would have come here if I hadn't bullied him into it. I couldn't stand it i-if something happened to him. It would be like losing my other half!"
The old healer just smiled tolerantly at her.
"The best?" she raised her eyebrows. "I was under the impression that your best friend was one Ronald Weasley."
"Oh, yes! Him too!"
"Now, correct me if I'm mistaken, but haven't you told us all about your two great friends while you were at Hogwarts?"
Hermione's breath caught. Was Healer Swift saying what she thought she was saying?
"Well, as far as I'm concerned, the young man in that room is No One, who you found in Hogsmeade and kindly brought here. There's nothing extraordinary about him at all, aside from that quite magnificent collection of scars he has."
"Y-yeah," Hermione said unsteadily. "I think- I think we'll go for that walk now."
"Yes, you do that. And don't give me any reason to regret it," warned Swift.
"I won't. I swear!"
"And here," added Swift, conjuring a hairbrush out of thin air, "you hair's a fright."
* * *
"Hermione?" Harry asked as she returned. "Are you ok?"
"Oh, yeah. I'm fine, Harry. Just fine. Come on, let's go for that walk."
Harry got the distinct feeling that there was something Hermione wasn't telling him.
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