A/N - This chapter we introduce a rare creature: the CAPSLOCK!Hermione. Enjoy =) I apologize to everyone who's going to hate me for there not being as much action in this chapter as you probably want. This is turning out to be longer than I had ever imagined and this chapter sets up a lot of stuff. There's some H/Hr goodness, though. 1000 bonus points to anyone who can spot the semi-cleverly hidden H/Hr moment (as opposed to all the blatant clues) =)
Ok, I just read through it again. You are going to hate me. I think I may have overdone it with the angst. Sigh. It wrote itself that way. Think of this as the HBP chapter of my story ;) Take heart; I'm on the chapter a day schedule still.
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As Harry struck the last note, Healer Swift gave a silent signal and the crowd began to disperse, though she remained. Hermione had slumped sideways and lay peacefully asleep on the bed, clutching her otter. She must have taken it out while he played. Swift walked quietly over and made as if to wake Hermione, but Harry waved her off, a protective look on his face.
"Don't," he commanded softly. Carefully, he shifted Hermione enough to pull the covers back and then cover her up snuggly, managing to do so without waking her. She curled up on her side and happily burrowed further under the covers. She slumbered with a contented little smile on her face, bushy- no, curly, brown hair spilling over the pillow and softly framing her face.
A touch on his arm caused Harry to look up from his study. Swift motioned him towards the door.
"She cares for you a great deal, No One," Swift said once they were out in the hall. "But I have to tell you it's very much against policy for a healer to spend the night in a patient's room. Especially one of the opposite gender."
"Are you trying to imply something?" Harry asked bluntly.
"Not at all. I merely feel compelled to inform you of the regulations of this hospital. I have already stretched them a great deal for you."
"Well, I don't give a rat's ass about your regulations," Harry said roughly. "Hermione is the best friend I've ever had and she's proved it a hundred times over the last week. I'd die before I let anything hurt her."
"Even you?" Swift asked softly.
"Especially me. You think I don't know what I am?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. I'm sure you don't know what you are. Hermione does, though."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Swift cocked her head to one side and regarded him dispassionately.
"Some would say you already did die," she said finally.
Harry's breath hissed inward sharply. A dangerous light came into his eyes.
"You shouldn't have said that."
"Why? Are you going to kill me, Harry?"
"I could," Harry snarled. "You couldn't stop me."
"That's something Voldemort would have said," Swift responded calmly. "But you're right; I couldn't. So, are you going to do it?"
Harry stood very still.
"I thought not. Well, a good night to you."
"What?" Harry blurted out incredulously at the retreating Healer's back. "You're not going to take Hermione?"
Swift looked over her shoulder at him. "If you couldn't even bring yourself to curse me, you certainly won't hurt Hermione, no matter how bad you think you are."
* * *
Hermione woke up very confused. She wasn't sure where she was at first, but it looked like one of the rooms at St. Mungo's! A thick blanket was tucked right up to her chin and the bed was warm and extremely comfortable. From the corner of the room a subdued but consistent fluting sound brought her fully into wakefulness.
Sitting up abruptly, she spied Harry sitting near the window and blowing softly into a handmade wooden flute. His eyes met her's over it and then he hit a note so sour they both winced.
"I haven't learned to play this one yet," he apologized. Sunlight streamed through the window straight onto Harry.
"What time is it?" Hermione yawned hugely. "How did I get here?"
"It's about ten and you fell asleep while I was playing. I didn't want to move you."
"Wait... this is your room? Where did you sleep?"
Harry smiled and shook his head.
"What! You sat up all night because I was in your bed?" Hermione gasped, appalled. "You should have woken me up!"
"No, no, it's ok," Harry said soothingly. "I wasn't tired. And I needed some time alone to think anyway."
An agitated Hermione jumped out of the bed and rushed forward to lay her hand on Harry's forehead. A tingle ran through him.
"How are you supposed to get better if you don't get any rest, you stubborn man? Though you do seem alrig-" At that point Hermione realized she was in a rather short sleeping gown. She had fallen asleep fully clothed. Oh my god! she thought, going beet red.
"Another healer came in and swapped you into that," Harry said quickly. "A woman. I was in the loo."
Hermione nodded, still blushing a deep red.
"Your clothes are over there if you want to change back into them," Harry pointed, carefully studying the floor. "They must have washed them right away."
"Yeah, I think I will," Hermione said, still slightly pink. She scurried over to the little table and scooped up her clothes. "Turn around, Harry. I'm not walking half-clothed down the hall."
Harry obediently turned and gazed out the window. It was a funny feeling to know that he could look at the streets of London from her, but the Muggles out there couldn't see this building. A faint rustling sound behind him informed him Hermione was changing.
"Don't even think about peeking," came her muffled voice. "Or I'll hex your eyelids shut!"
"Wouldn't even dream of it."
A forbidding silence followed.
"Ok, you can look now," informed Hermione a minute later, her voice a bit frosty. She glared at Harry as he turned.
You could at least pretend you wouldn't mind seeing me without clothes on, Hermione thought, offended. I'm not that ugly! A moment later shock ran through her at her thoughts. What am I thinking??
"What?" said Harry infuriatingly. Boys were so dense! "Hey, your shirt's on backwards."
Hermione glanced down her front automatically and emitted a horrified little squeak. Pulling her arms inside like a turtle, she spun the shirt around and went red again.
"You need to go to bed right this instant!" she ordered, trying to get back in control of the situation. I'm such an idiot!
"Really, Hermione, I feel great," he insisted.
"I'll be the judge of that. Lie down on the bed, I'm going to take a look at you."
She stared lasers into his face and he wisely did as bidden. She ran through the scan again. This time, Harry gasped and shuddered uncontrollably as the sensation ran through him worse than ever.
"Wow, Harry!" Hermione said, pleased. "You really are doing better. I think we can take you off a couple more of the potions."
"Hey..." she said suddenly and began patting her pockets frantically.
Not finding what she was looking for, Hermione dropped to her knees and began looking under the furniture, but it was nowhere to be found. Dismayed, she scrambled back to her feet to find Harry standing once again and holding her otter in his outstretched hand. She snatched it back.
"Oh, thank goodness!" She thrust it inside her robes and looked up to find Harry studying her with a strange expression.
"Hey," she changed subjects at the speed of light, "did you ever make anything for Ron?"
To her surprise, Harry actually snickered.
"Yeah. Yeah, I did." He waved his wand, and the trunk opened. Out soared a- well, it looked like a wooden leg. It was extremely detailed (hairy, too) and the foot in particular was quite large and heavy looking, wearing what seemed to be one of Hagrid's boots.
"Um... what on Earth-?" Hermione started. Harry snickered again and waved his wand. The leg sprang into action and Hermione squealed as it delivered a swift kick to her rear.
"You big git!"
"Oh, come on now, little witch," Harry said as she surreptitiously rubbed her rump. "You can't tell me it wouldn't be funny seeing that happen to Ron."
On the verge of an angry retort Hermione paused and thought about it for a moment. The situation played itself out in her mind's eye; the kick, Ron's freckly wide-mouthed look of shock and outrage, and Ron dancing up and down grabbing his bottom. She started to giggle.
"Ok, that would be pretty funny," she admitted, starting to laugh in earnest. "But you could have just told me!"
"Oh, where's the fun in that?" Harry countered. "Besides, I had to test it and make sure it worked. Maybe I'll sell the idea to Fred and George..."
"They don't need any help," Hermione snorted, still chortling. It was undoubtedly the first time Harry had really resembled his old self. He even chuckled briefly.
"Harry," Hermione asked once she mastered her mirth. "Why do you keep calling me that?"
"Calling you what?"
"Little witch."
"I did?" he blinked.
"Yes... at least twice now."
"I, um, didn't even notice," Harry scratched his head. "Maybe... because you're..?" He held his hands a little ways hands apart as if measuring something small.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Hermione flared.
"Nothing," Harry stared. "Honestly. You're just tiny."
"No, I'm not, you overgrown ape!"
"Now now, children," came an amused voice from the door. Hermione spun and flushed as Healer Swift studied her.
"How's our patient doing this morning?"
"He's doing really well!" Hermione brightened. "I just scanned him and I think we can take him of the Blood Replenishing Potion!"
"Well, let me take a look, then."
Harry watched Swift warily as she approached the bed. Swift looked serene as always. Hermione frowned as she watched them. Something was off.
"Hmmm, yes," Swift affirmed as she scanned Harry. "He is doing well. Very well. I think we can actually take him off all of the potions."
"What?" Hermione said in surprise. "Are you sure?"
"Quite sure," Swift replied. Harry was watching Swift, even warier than ever.
"What's going on?" Hermione said slowly.
"Hermione, dear, come with me for a moment. I have some last minute instructions for Mr. No One's health."
* * *
Harry watched the women disappear out the door apprehensively. He wasn't sure what to make of Swift. The woman had guessed who he was, but didn't seem to be telling anyone. He could barely hear them murmuring until-
"You did WHAT!?" Hermione's shrill voice carried clearly through the door. "You're mental!"
Swift said something too softly to make out followed by another outburst from Hermione.
"I am NOT!"
The conference lasted a few minutes longer, during which Harry sifted idly through his trunk. He felt like working on one of his projects, but he wasn't sure which one.
"Harry!" said Hermione's voice right behind him. He jumped.
"Harry, that's the third time I called your name."
"Oh, sorry. I was thinking."
"Right. Well, I've got some good news." She didn't look very happy, though, Harry noticed.
"Are you sure it's good news? You look like you just swallowed a lemon whole."
"Don't be silly. Anyway, Healer Swift says you're healed."
"I'm healed?" Harry repeated, surprised.
"Yes," Hermione said, looking at her feet. "You're free to go."
"Oh. Right."
"Do you know what else the wretched woman said?" Hermione burst out suddenly. She didn't give him a chance to answer.
"She said that now you can accept Ron's invitation. And she told me I should go too. That nosy woman was eavesdropping on us! She's trying to se-" Hermione cut off abruptly.
"Yeah..." Harry wasn't really paying attention. "Hermione... where am I going to go?"
"Oh... um..." Hermione prevaricated.
"I don't have anywhere to go anymore," Harry said dully. "I can't go back to where I was, and nobody would take me in."
Hermione looked desperately anxious.
"Well," she offered tentatively, "there's a flat open next to mine. It's a little bigger, two bedrooms, so it'll be more expensive..."
"You'd be ok with living next door to a murderer?" Harry asked.
"... but you could easily afford it if you sold even one of your- HARRY, WILL YOU STOP!!" Hermione shouted suddenly.
"HAVEN'T YOU BEEN PAYING ANY ATTENTION AT ALL?" she shrieked at a stunned Harry. "OR DO YOU REALLY THINK I'D SPEND ALL MY TIME WITH SOMEONE I THOUGHT WAS AN EVIL, REMORSELESS KILLER!"
"I, uh-" Harry didn't know what to say. He was an evil killer. There was just no getting around that.
"You're so stupid!" Hermione turned away as tears started forming in her eyes. They stood there awkwardly for a long time, her back turned to Harry.
"Hermione..." Harry tried to step in front of her, but she resolutely kept her back to him, shoulders shaking slightly. He finally gave it up as a bad job.
"Listen, Hermione... I'd- I'd like nothing better to live in the next flat over from you. I really would."
Hermione finally turned to look at him with puffy eyes. There had been an unmistakable note of sincerity in Harry's voice.
"Would... would you visit me sometimes if I was?" Harry asked uncertainly.
"Yes, you stupid boy!" Hermione hiccoughed, pummeling his chest with her tiny fists. "Yes! Are you that dense? Do I have to spell it out for you? Y-E-S. And probably more than 'sometimes'."
"Spell what out?"
"Oh, Harry..." Hermione shook her head sadly. "You were my best friend for seven years. SEVEN years! We've faced more stuff together than any other ten people combined face in their whole lives! And then, at the very moment we finally won, you were gone. It was like losing a part of myself. I never gave up hope, but it was five years... I thought you were dead. And then I found you! Of course I want to be around you!"
"Oh... I missed you too, Hermione," Harry said lamely. That's not very eloquent... he thought.
"It's settled, then," Hermione decided, taking Harry's hand and leading him out of the room. "Let's go get you a flat."
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