A/N - so here's my new fic. It won't be as long as the others, I don't think, but I hope you enjoy it.
Chapter 1
Hermione shut the door of her flat and wearily leant back on it, closing her eyes with relief.
Thank Merlin that's over, she thought to herself as she switched on the lights and chucked her keys and handbag onto the empty armchair.
It was ten at night and she had just ended the most boring date of her life…
No, Stuart Udderling was more boring, she countered, causing a small chuckle to escape from her lips.
Kicking off the high heel shoes (that she only ever wears when she goes out on dates), she made her way to her room, slipped out of her pretty little summer dress, pulled on some jeans and a t-shirt then returned to the living room. There, she put on her favourite comfortable flat shoes, grabbed her bag and keys once more and left her tiny little flat.
Although it was late and dark, it was London - summer London - and for Hermione, it was a city that always seemed to be buzzing with life. It took her only minutes to walk from her flat to the entrance way of St Mungo's (which is why she was renting the small, one bedroom place) and without a second glance, she entered the wizarding hospital.
Acknowledging one or two mediwitches as she made her way through the wards, she began to relax in the familiar comfort of the corridors, though not quite able to ignore the clump of dread that sat in the centre of her heart. Tonight she was going to tell him.
"Hermione! Bit later this evening!"
Hermione turned and smiled as Healer Stephens made her way to meet her, hugging the young woman fondly.
"Big date," Hermione said as way of explanation; Healer Stephens laughed.
"Who set you up this time?" she asked as they both walked to the end of the hall.
"Ginny," Hermione stated with a hint of annoyance, "it was a guy who supplies to the shops. He loves Shakespeare and fishing…"
"Fishing?"
"Yeah, fishing," Hermione sighed, "it's a Muggle thing."
"Not a good night then," the Healer chuckled, stopping outside the last door on the ward.
"No, not at all." Hermione sighed again.
"Well, I think Anna has left the gear for you by the bed," Healer Stephens informed her, "and don't stay too late, young lady. I don't want to have to fix your back again like last time!"
"Yes Healer," Hermione said obediently, and with a parting wave, entered the room that had easily become the most important place in the world to her.
It was just like it usually was, the way it had been for the last three years. A soft light lit the room that housed one bed, a small bedside cabinet, some chairs, a couch and a pile of boxed possessions. The walls were covered with Quidditch posters that zoomed around relentlessly, and there was a lone shelf covered with photos of family and friends.
Hermione went over to the bed and looked down at the figure laying there, still and silent. She gently reached out and moved a strand of black hair on his forehead, exposing the lightening bolt scar that had caused his life so much pain. Taking a deep breath, she sat down in her chair that was next to his bed and took his lifeless hand in her own.
"Hey Harry," she started, her thumb automatically rubbing the top of his hand, "sorry I'm late but - and I know I told you I would never go on another blind date as long as I live - but, I went on another blind date. Can you believe it?"
No answer.
"Anyway, his name was Kenneth Boomer, he makes deliveries to Fred and George's stores and because he enjoys Shakespeare, Ginny thought we'd hit it off. Guess what, we didn't. I mean, he was nice enough, but…he fishes! Ugh! I swear I could smell fish on him. And it seems that reading Shakespeare doesn't automatically make you intelligent."
Hermione paused and bowed her head in resignation. These visits were getting more and more difficult - but not for much longer. Taking a deep breath, she looked back at Harry.
"I don't even know why I agreed to go, considering everything. I guess Ginny was just so sure this bloke was 'the one'."
Pause.
"But that's enough about that. No more about my love life, or lack thereof, I…I have some other news."
Pause.
"I quit my job yesterday so no more working at Kew for me! Shocked? Well, that's not the half of it."
Pause.
"I'm leaving Harry. I…I can't do this anymore, come here and see you like this. I know I'm supposed to move on like everyone else, but I can't. As long as I'm close, part of me will always be here, with you. I…I need to leave, go away, try and forget."
Dropping her eyes to her lap, Hermione paused again, fighting back the tears that were threatening to fall.
"Though, I don't think I can ever forget you," she whispered softly before looking back at his still, pale face, "but you understand, don't you Harry? Everyone else has managed to have a life but me. Even Ginny..."
Pause.
"Don't hate me Harry. I've tried, I really have but I think this is the only way for me. Every time I come here, a part of me dies and I just can't…"
Hermione stopped again, took a deep breath and swiped away the few tears that had escaped. After another deep breath, she felt she was back in control, and decided she needed to do something normal. Standing, she looked at the bedside cabinet where a bowl, some fresh towels and a shaving kit sat.
From the moment they knew Harry's injuries from the Final Battle were severe and the initial estimate that his comatose state would only be for days was wrong, Hermione had made it her job to see that Harry was well…groomed.
It was her that trimmed his hair when it got too long, her that cut his nails and her that gave him his daily shave. After all this time, a routine had formed between the mediwitches and Hermione - they bathed him and kept him clean, and every evening Hermione would come and give him a shave. The Muggle way.
Although a slight shadow would be visible by the morning, it was always at night she came, caring for him and updating him on her day. Sometimes she would fall asleep on the couch (one time, leaning onto his bed, Healer Stephens having to correct the crink in her back afterwards) or be there until very late. But she was always there.
Beginning her ritual, with a swish of her wand, she filled the bowl with warm water then took two of the towels, laying them on his shoulders, around his face.
"Anyway," she continued her conversation while she worked, her voice strong once more, "because I have so much holiday leave owing to me, I only have two weeks to go at the Library. And my landlord has let me break my lease early because I've been such a good tenant. Isn't that great? It means I'll be able to leave sooner."
She began to spread the shaving foam over Harry's lower face, enjoying the feeling of his slightly rough skin under her touch and steadfastly ignoring the coolness and lack of response. Once finished, she wiped her hands then got the shaver. With the sureness that comes from experience, she began to shave his face.
"I haven't told Ron yet, I don't know how he'll take it. Or anyone else, really. I hope they understand. I think Ginny and Luna will but I don't know about Ron. His life is going so well what with his job at the Ministry and Luna…I'm going to miss the birth of their baby."
Pause.
"I'm going to miss them so much but…"
She stopped and sighed. Seeing that she'd finished her task, she took one of the towels from around his face and wiped off the excess foam and moisture.
"There you go, all done," she smiled sadly, collapsing wearily back down in her chair, "one of the girls here will take over from me and do this for you, I'm sure.
"I…I won't be here as much the next few weeks, there's so much I need to do. But, don't worry, I will come and say good-bye."
Pause.
"I…I don't know if I'll come back Harry, back to England. There's too many memories. I'm sorry I'm leaving you like this, but, well, the Healers tests they did last week - the results, they cam back yesterday. Did they tell you? Probably not, they don't talk to you like I do."
Pause.
"The tests show that they don't think you'll ever come back to us Harry, that you'll be like this forever. Now do you understand? Now do you see why I have to leave?"
Hermione harshly swiped at her face, trying to remove the now steady flow of tears but failing miserably. She sat there gripping his cold, pale hand as she cried, her head bowed with the weight of her grief. She missed him, missed him so much and knowing that he would never wake was tearing her apart. It wasn't fair, he had done what had been asked of him, yet he was paying with his life. And she was paying with hers.
The tears stopped eventually, and with the strength that had kept her going for the last three years, Hermione stood to leave. Wiping her face with one of the towels before folding it and putting it back on the cabinet, she once more looked down onto the still face.
"I better get going," she said softly, "I don't know when I'll be back, I have so much to do. I love you Harry." She gently kissed him on the forehead, moved his hair to recover his scar, and with a deep breath, left him lying there as she went in search for someone to tell about the change in the care of Harry Potter - the boy who rid the world of Lord Voldemort.