CHAPTER SIXTEEN
A/N - Thanks for the reviews! Now I want to explore the issues that Harry may have in trying to recover from a weeks-long trauma, and how that might affect the search for the two remaining Horcruxes…
It took Madam Pomfrey some twenty or so minutes to satisfy herself that Harry had been successfully revived. It was as if Harry being conscious wasn't enough of a clue, but it was only after a battery of tests and medicines and wand-waving that she returned to her office, leaving the trio alone.
Almost as soon as her office door had closed, Hermione had flung herself on Harry, hugging the life out of him. Suddenly clutched with embarrassment, Harry nevertheless appreciated the gesture, not to mention how good she felt. Ron, in spite of himself, could only grin as he stood at Harry's bedside, arms folded over his chest.
As if suddenly remembering where she was, Hermione eased off Harry only enough to cuff him round the head.
Harry recoiled, "Ow! What was that for?"
"Do you have any idea how STUPID you are?!" Hermione shouted, still straddling Harry's lap.
Harry turned to Ron, "What did I miss?" He asked groggily.
"This isn't funny, you could have been killed! And for what?"
"I…hang on…what was I…"
Hermione cuffed him again.
"OW!"
"How could you go off and fight him in a duel?! He only hit me with a cursed Full-Body Bind! I thought you were so much…"
"Look," Harry said, grabbing Hermione's wrists, "stop trying to put me in another coma and listen to me, will ya?"
Giving Harry a very disdainful look, Hermione suddenly realised where she was positioned, and slid off him, standing up. Harry closed his eyes and put a hand to his forehead, trying to block out the headache that was fast coming on.
"Okay, fine, I was stupid. But what good can I be to everyone else if I can't protect…"
"Oh, rubbish! It was a training accident!"
Harry turned his head to the right, and saw the next bed was empty, "Where is he?"
"He came out of it, six days ago," Ron said, "He's undercover somewhere, they won't say where."
"Okay," Harry said. He turned back to Hermione, "So…you're alright, then."
"Don't even…"
"Alright, I'll take that as a yes," Harry said, trying hard not to grin, "How long has it been?"
"Three weeks, one day," Hermione answered matter-of-factly.
"That long…" Harry said absently, "What's been going on?"
"Nothing really," Ron said, shaking his head, "That's what we don't get…surely Voldemort has heard about this somehow, why hasn't he made some kind of move?"
Hermione turned to face Ron, "What, are you wishing that would happen?"
"No," Ron said quickly, "it's just…weird."
"He knows he can't, at least not until I'm dead," Harry said with a remarkable calmness, "Any move he makes gives us a clue as to where he's hiding those Horcruxes."
"I hate to say it, but Ron has a point," Hermione said, "Surely he'd want to confront you before we find the others."
Ignoring Ron's look of total surprise, Harry shrugged, "I guess. But I know one thing; I'm not good to anyone laid up in bed."
"Then you'd better get your rest," Hermione said, "We'll bring you some breakfast in the morning."
"Okay," Harry said, letting a small grin pass onto his face.
Hermione turned to Ron, "Let's go, then."
Harry smiled to himself as they turned to leave, but called out as they approached the entrance, "Ron?"
Ron stopped, "I'll catch up," He said to Hermione as she left.
"How's she been?" Harry asked.
Ron leaned against the doorway, "Oh, you know, same old Hermione."
"You sure?"
"Yeah, why?"
Harry shrugged, "Well…there's bossy, and then there's that."
"You think she's over-compensating?"
"Yeah," Harry said, marvelled, "Where'd you learn…?"
"Don't start," Ron said.
"How about you, then?"
"I'm alright, been keeping busy…"
"Going out with Luna yet?"
"For the love of Merlin…"
Harry smiled, "C'mon, it's plain as day…"
"Whatever," Ron said, "but to answer your question, she's been pretty beside herself, mate. Spends all day in here, only leaves to eat and sleep…"
"Really?" Harry asked, stunned.
"Yeah," Ron nodded, "the whole duel thing cut her up bad. She blamed herself for it."
"Damn," Harry said quietly, mostly to himself.
"I'll see you in the morning," Ron said. He turned and walked out.
As Harry sat there propped up in bed, a wave of guilt hit him, harder than any of David's blows during their duel. It kept him awake for the better part of an hour, before fatigue finally overtook him.
* * * * *
The next three days passed agonisingly slowly for Harry. As he eased himself out of the hospital wing and back into normal life, more and more things that Harry had been taking for granted were becoming difficult. Even without the defence lessons, which had been put on indefinite hiatus, Harry found himself struggling to sit through even an hour in the library, or pull off the simplest Quidditch move atop his broomstick.
As more time wore on, Harry found himself more and more on edge. Despite the attentions of the remaining students, who chose to stay at school out of friendship, family wishes or concern for their own safety, Harry was starting to find all the concern and the attention irritating; half the time, he just wanted to be left alone. Little things about people, friends of his for years now, were starting to annoy him.
It had all come to a head at lunch on the third day after Harry left the hospital wing. Over lunch, Dean, Seamus and Neville had been carrying on a conversation that they had started that morning, about what they would do in a post-Voldemort world. Harry had overheard the whole thing, which was only ever in fun, and found yet another reminder of his `destiny' extremely grating. Ron had noticed Harry getting hot under the collar; he wasn't eating, his fists were clenched, his eyes were glaring down at the table. Hermione wasn't around; she had been following up on what she had thought was a promising lead at the time.
Jokingly, Dean had glanced over at Harry, "Harry mate, you need to hurry up and do your thing, we're making plans over…"
Harry had shot to his feet and turned away, storming off. As he was about halfway to the entrance to the Great Hall, he turned around, seething, "Well I'll see what I can do, hate to mess up your plans and all…" He spoke quickly and harshly, a dark undercurrent in his voice.
Dean recoiled, "I didn't mean it like that, man, just…"
"Nah, no one ever means what they say to me, do they?" Harry shot back, "It's all `how are ya Harry', `hope you're better Harry', but you don't give a crap, do you?"
"Hang on…"
"NONE OF YOU DO!" Harry shouted. Everyone in the Hall had stopped and stared as he carried on, "APART FROM RON AND HERMIONE, YOU LOT ARE JUST WAITING FOR ME TO DO YOUR DIRTY WORK!"
No one dared respond. And this only made Harry madder.
"ALL YOU DO IS PUT ME UP ON YOUR SHOULDERS THEN KNOCK ME DOWN! ALL I WANT IS A LIFE!"
Harry turned on his heel and marched right out of the Hall, anger in his every step.
* * * * *
For the rest of that afternoon, Harry had sat alone by the lake and fumed. He felt…so many things. Angry, bitter, guilty, twisted…it was like a poison that he couldn't get rid of, one that only fed on all of this anger and multiplied.
He'd lost count of how much time he'd been out here; the sun had long since passed from directly overhead, but had not yet set. He had checked his watch every now and then…he knew what was eventually going to come…
He heard the footsteps approaching. He didn't have to turn around from where he sat, perched against the base of the tree overlooking the lake. Mentally he had played this conversation out in his head several times by now…
Hermione sat down next to him, bringing her knees up to hug her body, "You want to talk?"
"No." Harry said.
Hermione paused for a few seconds, picking her words carefully, "Harry, have you ever heard of post-traumatic stress disorder?"
Harry thought about it, or at least pretended to, "Why, have I got it?"
"Harry, ever since you woke up, you've been trying to avoid dealing with what happened to you."
"What does that mean?"
"It means that until you do, you're just going to bottle up your feelings until they explode."
Harry turned to face her, "Then how should I be feeling, Hermione?"
"You should be telling me how you feel!" Hermione countered.
"You?" Harry asked incredulously.
"Well," Hermione stopped, catching herself, "unless you want to take a chance on Ron being able to understand any of it…"
"He's smarter than you give him credit for, ya know."
"I was joking," Hermione said, "but you're taking things way too seriously, Harry."
"I think you'll agree these are pretty serious times…"
"Look," Hermione said, putting her hand on Harry's arm, "just try talking to me, okay? I want to help you."
Harry blew out a breath, and put his hand on hers, looking away at the lake, "I know."
"I got Ron to have a word with Dean and the others, they're fine."
Harry shook his head, "Is there anything you haven't taken care of?"
"No," Hermione said, looking slightly pleased with herself, "that's what friends are for."
Harry let out another, more shaky breath, "I was starting to wonder…"
"Hmm?"
"I just…I dunno…" Harry said, "I feel like…" He swallowed down the tightness in his throat, tried to ignore the shakiness in his bottom lip, "I feel like all I'm doing is putting my friends at risk."
"Don't say that…"
"I mean it," Harry continued, "I mean…all I want to do is protect you…"
"Me?" Hermione blurted out.
"My friends," Harry said quickly, "…and just because you're here, around me, you're a target."
Harry angrily wiped away the beginnings of a tear from his eye; Hermione could only watch in quiet despair, "I can't…I'm nothing without you and Ron. If something happened, I'd…I'd…"
Harry broke down and began to cry. Hermione moved, kneeling in front of him. She moved Harry's hands away from his face; he didn't resist. She put her arms around his neck and hugged him to her close.
For those next couple of minutes she let him cry it out of his system. When she felt him begin to relax, she rocked him gently and spoke quietly into his ear, "Listen Harry, we're all here because we want to be. We're here to help you. And if you're a target, then we'll be targets with you."
With Harry's face buried into her shoulder, Hermione sighed and stroked his hair, "Just hang in there Harry…you'll be alright."
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