Hermione Granger, Florence Nightingale
Author's Note: Okay, so midweek didn't work quite as well as I had hoped. I was reading through the chapter, and decided that I really wasn't happy with the end of the chapter at all, and when I'm not happy with something I write, nobody's allowed to see it. Sooooooo, I had to rewrite the end of this chapter, and it took me longer than I expected. Sorry, all. But here it is now, and I must say, thanks muchly for all of the reviews! I really love hearing that people are enjoying my story.
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The next day, Hermione had just sat down by Harry's bed when she heard a loud crash in the kitchen. She picked up her wand and stood up. She had decided when she had first come home for the summer that it would be best if she kept her wand with her at all times. Death Eaters were getting bolder and bolder, and she was determined not to be caught unprepared. She made her way downstairs as quietly as possible, and, upon reaching the bottom of the staircase, whirled around, to find Madame Pomfrey standing in her kitchen.
"Miss Granger, put your wand away," she said, waving her hand in dismissal of the danger that Hermione had obviously perceived. "Here, drink this now." She thrust a flask of a potion at Hermione. Hermione took it and drank it. "If you contracted it from him, that'll kill it. If you didn't, it will make sure you won't. Now, take me to him."
"You could have given me some warning you were coming, you know." Hermione was a bit irritated. Nevertheless, she led Madame Pomfrey up the stairs.
"There was no time," said Madame Pomfrey, sounding every bit as irritated as Hermione. "If I'm correct, Mister Potter has the Wizard's Flu, and it is certainly not something to be trifled with. I had to come as soon as I heard." As soon as they entered Harry's room, and Madame Pomfrey saw Harry, she rushed to his side, scowling. "And why didn't you call me sooner? This is not a game, Miss Granger. This is a very serious illness."
If there was one thing that Hermione couldn't stand, it was having her intelligence questioned, especially in a situation in which she had done everything that was in her power, even by a teacher.
"I had no owl, I'm not connected to the Floo network, and nobody who lives anywhere around me does, to the best of my knowledge. With all due respect, Madame Pomfrey, how exactly was I supposed to call you sooner?" Hermione was fuming. "I never once thought that this was a game. Harry means the world to me, and I did everything I could think of to help him, every step of the way. I'm sorry, but teacher or not, I will not listen to you question my devotion to Harry."
"Yes, well, it appears that you did do something that was very helpful to Mister Potter. You were the one keeping him cool, I suppose?"
"Yes." Hermione was beginning to cool down herself, realizing that she had probably just gotten as close to an apology as she was going to get.
"Well, I can give him something to help, but there's not much I can do at this stage. It'll have to run it's course. If I were to give him what I gave you, it would kill him. The virus is already too prolific." She gave Hermione a potion. "Give this to him as soon as he wakes up. If he doesn't wake up in an hour, wake him up. It would be best if he awoke of his own volition, but he needs this soon. After you give it to him, keep giving him cool rags, and let him sleep. He should recover without a problem." She handed Hermione a small bag. "You have been temporarily connected with the Floo network. If he gets worse, contact me immediately." And with a crack, she disappeared.
Harry woke up about half an hour later, and Hermione gave him the potion. From the look on his face when he drank it, Hermione concluded that it didn't taste very good. Still, he drank it without complaint. Soon, he was asleep again.
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That night, after Hermione's parents were asleep, she crept back into Harry's room, and sat by his bed. He was tossing and turning, still asleep, but not any kind of restful sleep.
"Mione, no," he mumbled, and Hermione's eyes widened. Suddenly, his back arched, and he bolted upright, his eyes wide open. She put her hand on his shoulder, and he whirled around.
"Hermione, where am I?"
"You mean you don't remember?"
Harry shook his head.
"You're at my house. You were very sick. You just showed up, asking me for help. You've been out for quite awhile. How do you feel?"
"Better, now that I'm awake. I mean, I don't feel all that sick anymore, just a little weak." He ran his fingers through his hair. "I just had the most horrible dream though. It started out okay. We were at Hogwarts, in the Gryffindor common room, and we were sitting together on the couch. We were…" He blushed momentarily. "We were talking. Then Ron comes in and tells us we have to get outside. When we get outside, Voldemort ambushes us, and he…he…" Harry buried his face in his hands.
"It's okay, Harry," said Hermione as she put her arms around him. "Everything's going to be fine. I'm right here."
"I…I just don't think I could go on if I lost you," he said softly.
"You'll never lose me, Harry. I'll always be with you."
Harry wrapped his arms around Hermione. Fighting to hold back her surprise, Hermione silently put her arms around Harry.
When he pulled back, his face was red.
"I'm sorry," he said.
"Don't be sorry, Harry," said Hermione in what she hoped was a nonchalant tone. "Everybody needs support sometimes."
Harry's eyes were beginning to droop, and Hermione smiled.
"Sleep, Harry. I'll see you tomorrow." Without thinking, she kissed him on the forehead and left.
Harry watched her go, in a state of dazed shock.
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Harry awoke to the touch of Hermione's hand on his shoulder.
"I brought you some breakfast," she said, setting a tray down next to him.
"You don't need to do that," said Harry, pushing himself into a sitting position with obvious effort. "I could have come down."
"Harry, you're still weak. You need to stay in bed."
"I'm fine," he said impatiently. He started to move to stand up, but Hermione restrained him.
"Harry, you're really going to hurt yourself if you try to stand up now."
"I'll be fine," he insisted. "How about if you hold onto my arm? Will that make you feel better?"
"I suppose." Hermione took hold of Harry's arm uneasily.
Harry laboriously swung his feet over the edge of the bed. Shakily, he stood up, and promptly toppled over onto Hermione.
"Sorry." Harry turned bright red.
"It's okay," she breathed. "You can get up now, Harry."
"No, I really can't," said Harry softly.
"Here, let me help." Hermione put her hands on Harry's shoulders, and rolled them both over, so that she was on top of him. She promptly scrambled off of him, and offered her hand. He took it, and Hermione helped him back up into bed.
"Guess I should have listened to you," said Harry, blushing.
"It's okay," shrugged Hermione, although her flushed face showed she wasn't quite as comfortable as she would have had Harry believe.
"I really appreciate everything you've done for me, Hermione," said Harry, as he started to eat the food she had brought him.
"No problem, Harry." Hermione smiled. "I know you'd have done the same for me." Harry smiled back at her, and they sat in silence for awhile while Harry ate.
That day, Hermione was suspiciously absent from Harry's bedside. She had, however, left him several books, including Animal Farm, which Harry quickly discovered he enjoyed quite a bit. By the time lunchtime came around, and Hermione brought in a tray with food on it, Harry didn't even notice her presence until she set the tray down on the bedside table. He then realized he had been reading all morning.
"Enjoying the book?" Hermione smiled as she sat down next to the bed.
"It's excellent," he replied, setting it down.
"Here," she said, handing him a bookmark from the bedside table. "Putting books down face down like that when they're open can damage the spine. None of that in this house." Harry smiled, and put the bookmark into the book, closing it and setting it down next to him.
"I guess I'm not surprised that you have such reverence for books in this house," he said with a smile.
"About as much as there is for Quidditch at the Burrow." She grinned back at him, and handed him the tray with lunch. "I'm sorry I haven't been around much today."
"It's okay," said Harry, as he swallowed his first bite. "I don't expect to be the center of your attention. I can deal with being by myself."
"No," insisted Hermione sternly. "I refuse to treat you anything like that horrid family of yours. I'll be around more this afternoon, I promise."
"Well, it'll be nice to have company," he said, eating happily. Although it was really just a sandwich, Harry couldn't really remember ever enjoying lunch quite as much as he was at that moment.
After lunch was over, Hermione disappeared again, and Harry went back to Animal Farm. By the time Hermione returned, Harry was absolutely enraptured in the book, and didn't even notice her face in the door. She knocked, and still got no response from him.
"Harryyyyyyyy," she said softly, a smile on her face. "You in there somewhere?"
"Hmm?" Harry looked up from the book. "Oh, sorry, Hermione."
"You're turning into me there, Harry," she said, laughing softly. "Just can't get your attention away from a book." Harry smiled, and put the bookmark into the book, setting it down next to him.
"You really don't have to stay with me if you don't want to," he insisted.
"I want to, Harry. You're not my best friend for nothing, you know." She smiled. "Besides, I have something here I think you'll like." She entered the room, carrying a cane.
"Not sure I like that," said Harry, frowning.
"Well, after today's incident, I think you need a little more help than I can provide by myself if you're going to be moving around at all." She held up the cane. "This here is your key to the rest of the house, and if you want to get up and about and out of that bed, I insist that you use it."
"What are we waiting for," said Harry, throwing off the sheets. "Let's get started."
Author's Note (Part Two): So yeah, can anybody guess what it was Harry and Hermione were really doing in Harry's dream? (Just remember, this is a PG-13 story)