Part 2:
Harry Potter awoke feeling utterly drained. He tried to make out his surroundings, but found his vision quite blurry. He attempted to reach out for his glasses - which he usually left on a nearby nightstand - but found his arms not responding. Then he remembered what had happened. Memories of being hit by the killing curse flowed into his mind and the quite eerie feeling of being on death's bed because of that same curse came back to him.
He dismissed the thoughts from his brain, trying to rise and wipe his eyes clean of slumber, but yet again he found that his body wouldn't respond.
"Uhh …" he attempted to say out loud, but finding no voice coming from his throat. "Where am I?" A soft gasp of fright made him on edge, he knew that voice. "Hermione?"
A pause, a very, very, long pause. "H-Harry…?" She seemed to whisper but it came quite clear to Harry. "Harry, where are you?"
"I don't know!" He said defensively, and telling the truth. "That's what I was asking you!"
Another pause and then Hermione spoke once more, this time in fevered mumbles. "Oh no … no…. This can't be happening…."
"What can't be?" Harry asked curiously, but was only answered by a squeak of fright from Hermione. "What, Hermione?!"
"Umm … Harry? I think … I think…." For some reason, Harry could now feel his lips moving and his tongue contracting as if he were talking. It felt very strange to Harry. "I think you're inside of me."
Well, he thought wryly, that would explain the contracti- wait … INSIDE OF HER?!
"Yes, Harry…." Well, it seemed as if Hermione could actually read his mind now. "I - I think … when you were hit by the killing curse from V-Voldemort…. You apparated away somewhere. I - I have Scrimgeour looking all over the world for you right now! But - But … it seems you're right here…. You apparated inside of me…."
Wait … HOLD ON A SECOND! Harry's mind was in jumbles right now, but for some unknown reason, this all made clear sense to him, though he remembered he was sharing Hermione's mind and, at the same time, she was piecing things together…. I've got a headache…. A really bad headache….
Hermione chuckled and Harry felt one of his hands move up to his head on its own accord. "I know what you're talking about…." Alright, so she can read my mind…. Well, not really, I'm technically in her mind right now. "You could put it that way, Harry, I guess…." She said, confirming his assumptions.
"This is painfully awkward you know?" Harry said rather bluntly after - what seemed like to him - a long moment of silence. Harry felt his head nod agreeably. And, to his displeasure, that declaration didn't seem to help at all.
~*~
"Ms. Granger, I have a family you know!" Healer Frocks wasn't very enthusiastic about checking on Harry and Hermione's … combined condition. Or so it seemed to them. "Look at them!" He pointed to - what seemed like to the both of them - a beautiful photograph of a seemingly simple family of three. "You-know-who's finally dead, and … and well, the Minister's decided to let us all have a break. Merlin knows we all deserve it." He added, rising from his seat and retrieving his cloak from a nearby coat hanger with a simple wave of his wand.
"Look, Mr. Frocks." Hermione said urgently as Harry continued to babble in her mind.
Hermione…. HER - MIONE!
The seemingly old - yet experienced - Healer looked up looking mildly interested. "I know the … the … condition is qui - quite…"
"Original?" He supplied wryly. Hermione looked flabbergasted. "You see, one of my close friends happened to be a Death Eater, quite strange I must say, I'm worried that those boys down at the Law Enforcement will charge me for treason. Between you and me, I did tell him about some of the people attending our funerals, so … so I feel responsible for…. For, well…" he stopped, but Hermione couldn't ignore her, and Harry's, growing fury inside of them. "And he spoke of the Malfoys quite often you know. All of them were convinced that you and your late friend Mr. Potte-"
"He's not dead!" Hermione shouted, slamming her fists on the table angrily and rising slightly from her chair. From the look on Frocks' face, Harry assumed that he was thoroughly frightened. No doubt he could feel the fury imbedded magical waves pulsating from Hermione's clenched fists. "He's … in … my freakin' body, Mr. Frocks." She said through gritted teeth.
Yet they kept it in check. Merlin knew they needed a Healer right now. "As I was saying," he continued, attempting to ignore Hermione's outburst. "The Malfoys firmly believe the both of you are … are stirring up tr-"
"Stirring up trouble?!" Oh no, Harry thought, he's screwed. "STIRRING UP TROUBLE?!" Now, Harry was starting to enjoy this. Ron knew nothing about shouting until he felt the angry pulses erupt all over Hermione's body, though … no one else could feel that, really…. Other than the two of th-
"Ms. Gran-"
"NO, NO NO NO! I'm so bloody tired of this, Brocks. You are accusing Harry, who saved the entire world's arse from the greatest antagonist of all time, of stirring up trouble?! That is … that is …"
Pathetic?
"PATHETIC!" Thank you, Harry, she thought, knowing that he could hear it. "I've found the Ministry lacking in the gratefulness department. All his freakin' life, Harry has been going from one place to another, saving people from death and all - you - can - do is turn him … turn him…."
Err … a walking advertisement?
No … no, Harry that doesn't work…. "A standing joke? You think it's funny that he was made famous because his parents were killed and he was branded a bloody HORCRUX?!"
The old healer was beginning to back away slowly. "Ms. Granger…. Please, I - I meant no offe-"
"Oh, oh that is rich!" Hermione began to howl with laugh, sarcasm dripping from every breath that left her mouth. "You're just glad you don't have to kiss his shoes because he's, apparently, dead, when you know I'm telling the bloody truth.
"The bloody truth that he's right - here!" She pointed at her skull. "And right now, he is droning about Quidditch which, while being an enjoyably competitive sport, is quite boring because I have heard the same conversations relay around my peers a thousand times ov-"
"Alright, Ms. Granger!" He held up his hands in defeat, taking off his cloak. "Alright! You win! I just want to say that I'm hesitant to do this, after all … I can't ruin my reputation you know?"
Hermione stared at him blankly, as if she couldn't believe this guy achieved the necessary grades to become a Healer. "You are going to be helping the two most talked about magical folk in the entire world … why, in the name of bloody Merlin, would you lose reputation?!"
Realization dawned upon the Healer as he sucked in her words. Leaning back in his magically enhanced, leather seated, ergonomically correct, swivel chair, the Healer looked at her report that the secretary had her fill out.
Patient(s) names:
Harry James Potter - son of James Marvin Potter and Lily Regina Farina Evans
Hermione Jane Granger - daughter of Daryn Keith Granger and Mia Edlima Huntley
Symptoms:
- Signs of thought communication
- Conversations with "deceased" individuals
- Brain intrusion
- Seemingly harmless brain intrusion
- Lack of energy for both recipients after small amounts of exercise.
It seemed to the Healer that the list kept going, from brain intrusions to thought convulsions. In thirty years of working as a Healer, he had never even heard of thought convulsions, let alone anything like this. Taking a deep sigh, he tossed the paper into the nearby wastebasket, which gobbled it up.
"I - I honestly do not think I am the person suitable for this." He said sadly as he watched the wastebasket wolf down the insane document. "I don't think anyone is really, not even the Death Eaters know anyth-" he cleared his throat, suddenly looking away from the wastebasket.
He's one of em', I know it. Harry thought firmly, feeling his head nod on its own accord.
We'll get him once this has all been settled, Harry. She thought with a soothing tone. Just be patient.
"I'd … I'd try…." The Healer said after he thought the uncomfortable silence elapsed. "The Department of Mysteries, no one knows what they do there … but there's bound to be something similar to your case there!"
"Thank you, Mr. Brocks. Thank you." Hermione rose from her chair, her anger dismissed entirely as she held out her hand and shook the - what both Harry and Hermione thought - ex-De's hand.
You know, Hermione. Harry thought as she shut the door behind her and strolled down the white tiled hallways of St.Mungos, I'm really starting to like this.
Yeah, Harry … me too. It's nice having a half dead lunatic in your head.
HEY!
Just kidding, Harry. Hermione smiled and giggled as she waved to the secretary she had booked the appointment with Brocks with.
All the while, even after a long week of this, Harry could not dismiss the eerie feeling of smiling when he didn't feel like smiling and … actually … giggling. He was a man! Men don't giggle.
Of course they don't, Harry.
Bloody hell…
~*~
Harry had tried not thinking about it, but not having a body to do anything kind of hindered the attempts. The entire experience was quite magical to Harry. Another reason to love magic! But, honestly, he was beginning to grow bored of it. Actually, he was already bored with it! He had been bored of the entire endeavour since he had landed himself inside of her!
Honestly, Hermione wasn't the problem. She, in Harry's books, was a pleasant girl, a seeker of knowledge and an admirably loyal companion. But one could only take so much of her! One could only take so much of anyone, really!
Harry longed for the ability to wield his arms once more, to be able to step around the house and place food in his own mouth. He found it quite disturbing every time he ate, seeing as he tasted stuff that he didn't really like.
Hermione kept with the routines at Hogwarts. For snacks, she produced a load of sugar-free candies which her parents had presented her that Harry found not only as far from scrumptious one could get, but utterly … disgusting. He had hated Hagrid's rock candies for a reason! And to him, these tasted the same … except they were a lot easier to chew….
Though Harry could only take Hermione for so long, not because of those candies or because she was bothering him … the two of them had great conversations all the time, whether they are dripping with sarcastic, flirtatious, tones or downright furious tones didn't matter, he had always enjoyed the friendship that he had shared with Hermione.
Many had actually commented on their ability to speak silently, portray their thoughts with merely their eyes while the rest of the company was oblivious to their mute conversation. It was a gift really, between the two of them; that this encounter only magnified.
No, Harry was becoming obsessed with Hermione. That was the problem.
Harry Potter, the Boy-who-lived, was not good with girls. That was a firm fact. His history with them is outrageous. First was Cho Chang, and that lasted … what? Did it even start really? Then there was Ginny, who Harry had dumped on the pretences that they would get back together … but … due to these … err … circumstances….
And, of course, Hermione had to end any threat of further spouses during their hunting for Horcruxes by just existing; girls didn't seem to understand the whole "choices" issue which involved Harry picking either the "girlfriend" or Hermione. Now, anyone who knew Harry would know that he would choose Hermione instead.
Now why would he, really? I mean, isn't she that bratty, annoying, snotty and, of course, know-it-all bitch that Ron and him merely used during their school years for academic purposes? No, in fact, Harry was outraged when the Daily Prophet claimed he had quoted that on the day that he died.
Apparently Mr. Potter, writes Gregory Gory (what a name eh?), was not in the least fond of his, supposed, best friend. New sources have detailed that the Boy-who-lived actually called young, frail, Hermione Granger an obnoxious know-it-all, a title that is usually reserved for the ex-Potions Master and ex-Defence against the Dark Arts teacher, Severus Snape, who was unavailable for comment on the subject of this feud between Harry Potter and Hermione Granger that goes on even after death.
"Professor Snape would always taunt her in classes." Said a timed Neville Longbottom, who was a classmate of the two heroes of the world. "Hermione helped me out a great deal in the class, she helped everyone really… Especially Harry, though he nev - never really noticed…."
So has Harry under appreciated the abilities of Hermione Jane Granger? To everyone, especially viewers of her after-the-defeat speech (as we at the Daily Prophet have deemed it) who have called her "brave" "loyal" "the best friend one can get." All in all, all of us can be quite glad that the Boy-who-lived is no more, all his life, as Ms. Granger reminded us all, he has lived through tragedy after tragedy and yet, that didn't stop him from becoming a pompous show-off.
Hermione had thoroughly burnt the paper and unsubscribed to the Daily Prophet with a little note saying "Harry's not dead, if any of you were even paying the slightest bit of attention to my speech you would have digested that information thoroughly enough so that I wouldn't have to wake up to this garbage every morning."
Harry had commented on her bluntness with humour in his tone, but Hermione had merely slammed her mug of coffee quite firmly on the seemingly crude wooden kitchen table to make him shut his trap.
But Harry could not believe people could think of Hermione Granger in this way. He found her presence comforting, while the rest of the world continued to endlessly debate whether he was a fake or not; she firmly believed everything he said. Not counting the Malfoy stuff, that was just a bad year … according to her. She, and Ron of course, had apologized for their outrageous behaviour throughout the year, what, with all the hormones flying in every which direction, striking even the first years quite badly. Harry remembered, with a cringe of course, the crush that … that Romilda Vane had on him. It seemed bad enough that she had it in the first place, but to send caldron cakes laced with love potion was just going beyond any conscious thought.
It seemed Harry was trying rather hard to avoid the topic of Hermione Granger and his … developments concerning her. Even in this retelling, Harry continued to avoid his confession. A procrastinator once, a procrastinator for life!
Harry Potter, as stated before, was becoming obsessed with Hermione Granger. He was beginning to realize how structured and organized her daily routine was when he was apart of it, even if he was half asleep or fully asleep at the time, he could still feel his - or rather: her body - move about the kitchen, preparing some morning tea for the both of them. They listed "extra helpings of food required for full satisfaction" as one of the many symptoms on the document the secretary had presented them at St. Mungos. And it was quite justified, seeing as Hermione was gobbling down heavy loads of food, more so than even Ron would take on because of fear of stomach implosions.
He was also beginning to realize how amazing it felt to be apart of her, to be hear her amazing brain tick. Harry had heard Snape criticize Hermione's "know-it-all" attitude numerous times in the many classes he had shared with him and had found it quite justified, though he had never told Hermione that.
"I mean," he said to himself one day whilst Hermione snored contently. "Its one thing memorizing the text and it's another thing entirely too actually learn something from it right?" Of course he was right! But now that he was hearing the ticks, whistles and bells of Hermione's brain working all the hours of the day, he could believe the intelligence of his best friend.
No, no, blackcurrant isn't suitable in the morning….
They got it wrong! It was a growth spur charm that the Weasleys' used in their Ton-Tongue Toffees! It was an engorgement charm!
Clearly the PERUvian Vipertooth is native to bloody Australia…
Honestly, it clearly states in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find them that Hippogriefs are NOT dangerous UNLESS they are untamed and wild!
How sad Mr. Thruston would be if he read this… Apparently he died last year of over exposure to the music he plays and the … deals he provokes. He actually lives in an apartment in London along with the rest of his band.
Why in the name of Merlin himself would clocks be healthy for your immune system?!
VerITAserum! Not Vertaserum you bloody morons!
NO! There is NO WAY what-so-ever a metamorphagus can be made in a bloody lab! Just ask Tonks!
Even I know there's only two bludgers in a Quidditch game even when Quidditch was being developed and they were using rocks and lead as the bludgers there were still only two on the field at once!
Wow, I thought the bluebottle upgraded to a thief-countermeasure system a long time ago! I guess they only just got news of this today, eh?
Now why would Hitler have any involvement with World War One? Actually … he did if I recall, though he was merely a solider in the German army, an exceptional one if I recall.
And this is just a sample of what his brain was filled with every day. Maybe killing Voldemort was a good thing, it made the world a better place to live in, no more threats of seeing the Dark Mark lurking above your house after you come back from a party or something, it made Harry realize that he had missed a lot about Hermione Granger; a bit too much if you ask him.
But really, must he suffer with this all the time? It was slowly driving him mad…. Though now Harry had a new admiration for her, not only had she thought up stuff like that all the time, disproving people wrong, bringing new facts to people, but she had to put up with Ron's stubborn and frail attitude, with Harry's every day conflicts involving the Dark Lord, taking care of Crookshanks, homework and looking out for herself. Harry knew that she could hold her own in any fight (though the memory of her being hit by that still unfamiliar purple cloud curse sent by Dolohov still haunted Harry).
Harry couldn't understand how Hermione could deal with all of this and not turn out … neurotic. Totally … neurotic….
He sighed in discontent as he tried to roll over, but remembered it was Hermione's body… How he wished for control…. How he longed to move his feet.
And then it happened.
First of all, the eyes opened, while was odd because Harry could still hear Hermione's soft, yet oddly pleasant, snores, then he felt tingles in his little fingers. He lifted them up and stared at them, suddenly aware of the control he possessed.
"I'm free…" he said, but it came out in Hermione's … feminine voice. All in all, it sound downright crazy to Harry as he attempted to rise from the bed, trying to not to awaken Hermione by any sudden movements. When he could hear her soft snores even after the squeaking of the springy mattress that was her bed had subsided, he knew the coast was clear.
"Time … to go for a run!"