Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter
A/N: Hmm'kay. I have a giant apology due to my very wonderful and gorgeous friend… Sapphire Water Elf Princess! God, I'm such a bitch… she was the one who's pushed me through writing it! And I think she helped me come up with the title… or something. I'm so sorry you weren't mentioned first sweetie! I love you heaps! Thank you!
Thanks again to talianne for her betaing… StarAngel613, email me when you're back or something.
Mm'kay this chapter Harry and Mark meet. Everyone must keep in mind that he is a reporter… this will be relevant later. I'm sure all you wonderful people can figure out why. I hope you like and please review!
The Return
Chapter Two: Healing
Last chapter…
CRACK!
Hermione jumped and frowned, "Mark? I thought you were supposed to be with your mother tonight?"
No response.
She frowned and set the glass down on the bench and drew her wand from her pocket, "Mark?" she called, peering carefully around the corner of the kitchen to look in at the living room.
But it wasn't Mark who was collapsed in the middle of her living room. No, it was someone she hadn't seen for five years.
"Harry," she breathed, her eyes widening. She dropped her wand and her hands flew to her mouth. "Oh, Harry," she whispered, not being able to speak any louder.
She wanted to scream, to jump for joy and she wanted to hug him to death. She wanted to press her lips to his, like she'd been dreaming about for five long years. She wanted to smack him for leaving her for so long, without ever owling her or coming to see her to tell her he was alright. She wanted to shout at him until she had no voice left, and then collapse into tears while he held her, telling her it was all alright and that he was back for good. Such a conflict of emotions made her chest feel rather tight and she felt like she wanted to scream, to let go of all emotion.
But that would have to wait.
She crossed the room to him and knelt down next to him to find he was shaking uncontrollably with cold, and he was bleeding rather badly in his side and across his torso. His clothes and hair were soaking wet and smelt like fresh mud and she realised that his eyes were rolled into the back of his head.
"H-Her-Hermione," Harry stuttered, almost at a whisper.
"I'm here," she said immediately, not sure whether or not she should move him or just try to make him comfortable where he was.
"Hermione," Harry whispered, closing his eyes and gritting his teeth. "Hermione."
He kept on repeating her name and she soon realised that he probably didn't know where he was. This meant he probably couldn't move himself or do anything for himself.
"Alright, I have to get you to my bedroom," she muttered, half to herself and half to Harry. She stood up and frowned slightly. "Wingardium Leviosa!" she exclaimed, swishing and flicking her wand at his curled up form.
Harry rose slowly, still in the foetal position and Hermione slowly moved him through her apartment to her bedroom. Her arm was shaking slightly as she finally was able to lower him down on the bed, and she cast a quick drying spell on his robes and hair. She removed his shoes and socks and gently pulled his arms out of his torn robes. She cautiously undid the buttons on his shirt, to get a better look at his wounds. Once the shirt was open she found herself gazing down at his torso in horror.
On his chest was a healed burn scar in the shape of a handprint, and across his abdomen were knife slashes. Most weren't too deep and Hermione simply cleaned them before healing them. But there was one wound that was rather deep and it was still bleeding, trailing diagonally from the right side of his ribcage to the top of his left hipbone. Hermione then noticed a long wound trailing from just under his right armpit, down to the top of his hip bone. She frowned and tugged his shirt off him, turning him around on his front. His back was almost unblemished, apart from a mirror image of the handprint on his chest, in the exact same place.
She turned him back over and set to healing his deep wounds, cleaning them carefully before pouring her magic in from her wand to slowly, but surely close the wounds up. Harry had fallen unconscious on the bed, tossing his head every now and then and muttering Hermione's name. She picked up a blanket from the foot of her bed and spread it across him, making sure it covered his bare feet as well as up to the centre of his chest. Once she'd done that she began to leave the room.
"Hermione!"
She was called back by a strangled shout from Harry, who had opened his eyes wide, gazing around for her.
"I'm here," she said quickly, running back to him.
"Hermione," he whispered, his eyes finally focusing on her.
"It's alright." She sat down next to him on the bed and held his hand in hers.
He didn't say anything else; he just gazed up at her until he finally fell asleep. Hermione sighed tiredly and stood up off the bed when he was asleep, and made her way into her kitchen.
'He's back,' her mind told her.
She suddenly found her knees were shaking and quickly sat down on one of the kitchen stools. Crookshanks jumped up on the kitchen table in front of her and pawed her shoulder softly. She didn't notice him, staring at the pale brown tiles of her kitchen.
'Harry's back.'
"Ouch!" she exclaimed as Crookshanks scratched her.
The cat jumped onto her lap and sniffed in the direction of his food.
"Alright," she muttered, standing up as he jumped off her to fetch his dinner. Once Crookshanks was happily eating his dinner, she sat back down and rubbed her eyes, breathing hard through her nose. "Where have you been?" she whispered, opening her eyes and gazing down at Crookshanks' back.
---
Hermione had planned to spend the night out in the living room on a freshly transfigured bed. Crookshanks would have very happily curled up next to his mistress that night, for the extra warmth. But he had to settle for sleeping on his own in the middle of the bed, because Harry had woken up in the middle of the night, yelling out incomprehensible words. She had sprinted back into her bedroom to find Harry hovering two feet above the surface of the bed, writhing as though he were in pain.
"Harry!" she exclaimed, moving forward, not touching him for fear he would lash out at her.
Her voice seemed to bring him out of his nightmare, or whatever it was, because his eyes suddenly opened and he fell back to the bed. He was sweating terribly and Hermione quickly ran into her bathroom for a wet cloth. When she sat down on the bed, Harry had calmed down a little, but was still breathing hard.
"It's okay," Hermione said softly, dabbing at his forehead with the damp cloth. Harry gazed up at her and his hand moved up to his forehead, to clutch at her hand. "What is it?" she asked absentmindedly as he pulled her hand down.
He opened his mouth to say something, but then looked as though he couldn't say anything. He sighed heavily and moved her hand to the centre of his chest, to the scar. She raised an eyebrow and he said softly,
"Hermione."
Hermione glanced down at their hands and then back up at his face. "I can't," she whispered, watching him move his other hand to her cheek to cup it softly.
He frowned and cocked his head on one side, a confused look on his face.
She blushed slightly and said, "I'm… involved."
He frowned again and then raised one eyebrow.
"His name is Mark," she said, the blush darkening in her cheeks. "We've been going out for a few months."
Harry raised his other eyebrow and said, rather possessively, "Hermione."
"I'm sorry," she said softly, sighing and taking her hand away from his. She stood to leave to the room but he called her back,
"Hermione!"
She turned around to see him looking rather fearful and sighed, "Do you want me to sleep with you tonight?"
He nodded rather enthusiastically and she couldn't help but smile, "Not in that way Harry."
He shrugged and patted the other side of the bed. She crossed the room to him and climbed under the covers with him, feeling him slip an arm around her shoulders as she did so. She smiled and leaned into him, careful not to lean upon his freshly healed wounds.
"Good night Harry," she said softly, closing her eyes as she slid down into the bed with him.
"Hermione," he murmured sleepily.
---
Hermione woke up the next morning feeling very comfortable and warm. She felt Harry pull her closer to him and she obliged, sliding one of her hands up and onto his torso, beginning to trace small circles there. He sighed happily and looked down at her.
"This is how it was supposed to be," she said softly, looking up at him.
He nodded.
She sighed and sat up off him. "I need to owl St Mungo's to tell them I'm taking my holiday leave," she said, standing up off the bed.
Once she had sent an owl to Mary saying that she'd finally decided to take her holiday leave and to send her patients and charges to the healers in the offices next to hers, she went back into her bedroom. Harry was still sitting where she'd left him, frowning.
"What's wrong?" she asked worriedly, sitting down on the bed.
There was suddenly a loud cracking sound and Mark's voice sounded through the apartment, "Hermione?!"
"In here!" she called back, still looking at Harry worriedly. "You knew he was coming," she said softly to Harry.
Harry frowned and glared at the doorway as Mark appeared in it. "Hermione," he said, nodding in Mark's direction.
Hermione turned around to see Mark looking rather suspicious, if not, cross.
"Who is this?" he asked, raising both eyebrows at her.
She sighed and stood up off the bed to walk to him, "Harry."
"Harry who?"
"Potter, you ass," she said exasperatedly.
"Isn't he dead?" Mark asked, looking past Hermione at the irritated form of Harry Potter.
"Obviously not," she said, turning back to look at Harry. She crossed the room back to Harry and sat down next to him, "I'll be back in a minute Harry," she told him, squeezing his hand softly. Harry nodded solemnly and glanced behind her at Mark. She stood up and walked out of the room, pushing Mark along with her.
"How long has he been back?" Mark asked, raising his eyebrows at her again. "And why is he in your bed?"
"He… appeared in my living room last night," Hermione replied, rubbing her eyes. "And he's in my bed because I have no other place to put him and he wouldn't let go of me last night -"
"You slept with him?"
Hermione glared at him, "Thin ice, Mark."
He sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, seeming to regain his composure, "Where has he been?"
"I don't know," she said softly, breathing hard through her nose with her hands over her mouth as she felt tears come to the corners of her eyes.
"Hasn't he said anything?" he asked, looking over Hermione's head at Harry. Harry narrowed his eyes at Mark as if to say, "Get away from my Hermione."
"He's only been able to say my name," she said, sniffing slightly.
"Hey, don't cry," he said, pulling her into a hug. "There's no need to cry."
"I know," she said in a shaky voice, burying her face into his chest. "It's just… finally seeing him brings everything back. I feel so terribly relieved that I finally know where he is. And I'm just so angry that he was gone for so long," she added pulling back to turn and look back at Harry. "I can't leave him," she added to Mark, "Not now. I've already taken all of my holiday leave to nurse him back to health."
Mark nodded and said quickly, "I won't come over as often then. I don't think he likes me very much. I'll spend the next couple of weeks with my mother."
"Thank you. When he starts to talk and do things for himself I'll be able to come back to work and we'll go out," she said, turning back and hugging him tightly.
"I'll talk to you later then," he said, leaning down and kissing her lips softly.
"Just please don't tell anyone though," she said quickly as the kiss ended.
"I won't, don't worry Hermione," he said reassuringly. "See you."
"Bye," she said, sighing as he disapparated. She looked back at Harry and moved back into the room. She sighed again as she noticed him looking rather disgruntled, with his arms crossed. "Don't look at me like that," she scolded him, crossing the room to sit down next to him on the bed.
"Hermione," he grumbled, glancing at her lips.
"Harry," she replied, "You can't have expected me to wait for five years. I thought you died."
Harry sighed heavily and uncrossed his arms to reach over and touch her hands. He squeezed them and tried to move closer, only succeeding in making his ribs hurt. He winced and Hermione moved forward at once, laying her hands on his rib cage, checking to see if he had done anymore damage to himself.
"You shouldn't move so much," she said, frowning as she traced the bottom bones of his ribs. "Your wounds might open again."
He placed his hands on hers and rubbed her skin softly. "Hermione," he said softly.
She smiled slightly and took her hand from his. "Are you hungry?" she asked suddenly, feeling her stomach growl faintly.
He shrugged, looking away from her and out the window.
"Alright. I'll be back soon," she said, standing up off the bed.
---
To be continued…