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Hermione Granger, Florence Nightingale by haljordan
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Hermione Granger, Florence Nightingale

haljordan

Hermione Granger, Florence Nightingale

Author's Note: This is a short chapter, but I really wanted to get this out for you, my faithful readers. I'm wrapping it up now, there should only be one more chapter after this one. Enjoy, all.

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When they arrived back at Hermione's house, they both showered and changed. Harry walked into the sitting room, where Hermione was already sitting, her hair still wet from her shower, but not quite dripping. Harry thought it made her look adorable. She was sitting quietly, her hands folded in her lap, her eyes focused on her hands determinedly.

"Hermione, are you okay?"

"Hmm?" She looked up at him. "Oh. Yeah. I was just thinking."

"About what?" Harry sat down on the sofa next to Hermione.

"Nothing." Her cheeks turned pink, and she looked away.

"Are you sure everything's okay?" While it wasn't unlike Hermione to lose herself in her thoughts, it most often occurred when she was in the middle of a homework assignment. She rarely got lost in her thoughts when she was just sitting around.

"I'm fine." She stood up suddenly and stuck her hands in her pockets. "Do you want some lunch?" Harry eyed her suspiciously. "What?" She asked, her cheeks turning pink again.

"Hermione, this isn't like you," said Harry. "Something's wrong, I know it. I may not be the most observant guy in the world, but I know you well enough to know that this is not how you act." He stood up and looked her in the eyes.

"It's nothing," she said quickly, although certainly not convincingly. Harry thought for a moment, then decided that if she didn't want to tell him what was wrong, he wasn't going to force the issue.

"If you insist," he said, shrugging. He followed Hermione into the kitchen, and they had a quiet lunch.

Dinner that night with Hermione's parents was also quiet, and Harry noticed they kept shooting each other quick glances. No questions were asked, however, so Harry was more or less left to his own thoughts. Trying to figure out Hermione's bizarre behavior of the day, he found himself concluding it had something to do with what happened at the pool. She had only started acting oddly after they had returned. Daft as he could be at times, Harry Potter was not always a moron, and he soon concluded that the kiss had had quite the effect on his best friend.

That night, Harry lay in bed, unable to sleep. All he could think about was Hermione. How cute she was with her hair wet. How much he loved to see her lost in thought. How beautiful her voice sounded when she sang. How soft her lips were.

Her lips really are soft, he thought, amazed. This is Hermione I'm thinking about. Hermione. My best friend. And I can't stop thinking about her lips. He marveled at the fact that he was not freaked out about the concept at all. This is amazing. He laughed to himself. Hermione.

It was a long time before Harry fell asleep, but he slept better than he had for years. His dreams were of Hermione.

Harry sat up. It was morning. Earlier than he had been waking up, but there was no way he was falling asleep again. The promise of seeing Hermione was too great. He had finally come to a decision. He was going to tell her. He was scared to death of what she might say, terrified that she would turn out to feel nothing but friendship for him. Nevertheless, he knew he had to try.

"This is why I'm a Gryffindor," he said to himself. "I was made a Gryffindor so I could do this." He ran his fingers through his hair. Looking at the clock, he realized that Hermione's parents were already at work. They were alone in the house. Suddenly, he had an overwhelming urge to see Hermione. Starting to reach for the cane at the side of the bed, he was struck with a sharp desire to be rid of it. He wasn't crippled. He was getting stronger every day. It was high time he started walking on his own.

He stood up, a bit shaky, but stable enough to stand reliably. He moved slowly down the hall towards Hermione's bedroom. He tapped on the door, too lightly to wake her up if she was asleep, but hard enough so that she would hear it if she was awake, to make sure he didn't walk in at a time when it would be…embarrassing. When no reply was forthcoming, he pushed the door open slowly. He peeked in to see Hermione lying in bed, fast asleep, her back to him. As he continued to push the door open, it creaked. Hermione stirred, and the breath caught in Harry's throat. She turned over, but did not open her eyes. Harry was then treated to a sight he never expected to see. Hermione was clutching a teddy bear. Leaning against the doorway, Harry smiled. She was so cute when she was asleep, and the teddy bear made the picture even more innocent. Harry couldn't help but smile. More than anything else, he wished he could hold that moment forever.

It was not meant to be, however. Harry's decision to try walking around without the cane was a bit premature, especially considering he was still a bit unstable from having just woken up. To his horror, his knees gave out from under him, and he tumbled to the floor with a crash.

Seconds later, he found himself staring down the business end of a wand, held by Hermione. She had bolted up in bed, and grabbed her wand, which she had kept between her mattress and the head of her bed. When she saw it was Harry, she threw her covers off, and was almost instantly at his side.

"Harry, are you okay?" She dropped her wand next to her. "What's the matter? What are you doing here?"

"I…I woke up early," he said slowly.

Wow, that was intelligent, he mentally berated himself. If you expect her to think you're any kind of intelligent person, and not, say, a moron, you'd better come up with something better than that pretty damn quickly.

"I wanted to see you." Hermione gave him a quizzical sideways look.

Oh sure, that was so much better, he thought. Because creepy is so much better than stupid. Way to go, Potter. Small wonder you weren't put in Ravenclaw.

"You…you wanted to see me?" She bit her lip softly, looking for all the world like she wanted to say something else, but couldn't bring herself to do it.

Okay, quick recovery time, Potter. Better make it good.

"Yeah. I know, that sounded a lot creepier than it did in my head."

Oh, sure, blame me.

"It's just that I…I had a dream about you last night, and it wasn't a good dream, and I just wanted to be sure you were okay."

Bold-faced lie time then. Better tell her about one of the old ones and hope she buys it.

He proceeded to tell her about a dream he had had, in fact, months before, a dream which had ended rather badly for her. He saw tears well up in her eyes, and instantly felt horrible, not only for lying to her, but for having made her cry.

"It's okay, Harry. I'm fine." She wrapped her arms around him and brought him close to her.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"It's okay," she whispered.

Neither of them moved for quite awhile. Harry realized he felt horrible about enjoying the feel of Hermione's arms wrapped around him. He felt like he was taking advantage of her, and so pulled away. He flashed a feeble smile at her, and tried to change the subject.

"So," he said. "That's a cute teddy bear you have there."

She blushed a bright red.

"I've had Marvin for longer than I can remember," she said softly. "When I was really little, Daddy used to make him talk, and he'd always be so sad, I always wanted to cheer him up. Apparently, Marvin was some kind of depressed robot on a radio show my parents loved."

"That's cute," said Harry, smiling.

"I didn't want to bring him to Hogwarts, but I always sleep with him when I come home."

"Well, I'm sure that cheers him up," Harry said, but stopped abrubtly. He paled when he realized what he had said. Hermione was staring at him, wide-eyed.

"I mean…I…uh…" He smacked his forehead. See, now that was just plain stupid.

Hermione laughed. The sound of her laughter was almost intoxicating to Harry.

"It's okay, Harry," she said softly. "I know you didn't mean it like that." She smiled at him and touched his arm. "Now, would you like some help getting up?" Harry nodded.

Hermione helped him up and together they walked down to the sitting room. Hermione was about to go back up to get Harry's cane, but he stopped her.

"I'm sick of that cane," he said, frowning. "I want to try getting around without it."

"Are you sure you're strong enough?" Hermione sat down next to him. "I don't want you to hurt yourself."

"I'm sure. I managed to get to your room, didn't I?"

"That's true. Just let me help, okay?"

"Okay," Harry reluctantly agreed, knowing that he probably wouldn't be able to make it very far without help of some kind.