The Meeting of Men and Mountains

Title: The Meeting of Men and Mountains

Author: diggingupophelia/sapphiretragedy

Beta: You know who you are. Thanks for the hard work.

Rating: Teen

Pairings: Harry/Hermione (implied), Tonks, Ron, and various Weasleys.

Summary: Hermione's not going to get better. Harry decides to care for her anyway.

Warnings: Character trauma. Language. Mentions of violence.

Note: This story fits into the Exquisite Corpse story arc. You don't need to read that story in order for this one to make sense. This story occurs before the events in Exquisite Corpse.

Great things are done when men and mountains meet.-William

Blake.

The Meeting of Men and Mountains

*

Harry crossed his arms defiantly over his chest and looked away from the group of people attacking him. His jaw was set and angry words were struggling to fly out of his tightly clamped mouth. These newly established enemies were meant to be his friends - no, his family - and they were all against him. Molly, Arthur, Remus, Minerva, and even Ron were trying to force him to make a decision he knew was wrong.

“Harry,” Ron coaxed. “Listen to reason. We all want what's best for her.” Ron moved around Harry and stood directly in his line of sight. Harry turned away with an irritated sigh. “She's our best friend, Harry. Her parents are gone and she's no one left to make these decisions for her aside from us.”

“Ron's right, dear,” Molly Weasley interrupted. “Hermione's not going to get better. No one recovers from a dementor's kiss - it's not possible.”

Harry licked his lips as he breathed heavily. He spoke slowly while choosing his words carefully. “Anything is possible, Molly. If I've learned nothing from the war - I've learned that. It's possible, for example, to keep the woman you love safe through the most violent and turbulent times of war only to have her fall at the moment of your victory. She is my responsibility and I am not going to lock her up in some place where strangers will care for her.”

“Mate, you're being bloody unreasonable. You can't take care of all her needs,” Ron started. “She wouldn't want you to waste your life …”

“Don't finish that sentence, Ron. Just stop. She's our friend. She would never send us away like that and I refuse to do it to her. She left me in charge of her affairs in the event she was unable to speak for herself. And I'm doing what I believe is best. Now you lot can help me figure out a way to care for her or you can go hang!”

The room was silent for a long time. Harry had moved from his hard wooden chair near the window to Hermione's bedside. He picked up a hairbrush and ran it through her shorn locks of hair. It was growing back quickly enough but it was not as long as he liked. When he finished brushing her hair he kissed her softly on the top of her head. “Feel better when you look pretty, Hermione?”

“She can't hear you, Harry,” Ron argued. “And even if she can hear you, she can't bloody well understand you!”

“That's enough Ron,” Remus whispered from his corner. “Harry's got to do what he believes to be in Hermione's best interest. Even if we disagree it is Harry's choice.”

“Thank you, Remus,” Harry said smugly.

“Just because he's standing up for you doesn't mean he agrees with you, Harry,” Minerva whispered. “Are you sure you are able to handle all her needs?”

Harry nodded. “We'll be fine. Would you please stop trying to change my mind? Our energies would be better spent trying to find a way to get her back.”

“It just isn't possible,” Arthur repeated. “We've told you a thousand times. No one truly understands how the process works. And even if we did … we don't know what happened to the dementor that did this to her.”

“Hermione would have found a way. We owe it to her to try - to never give up.” Harry was insistent on this course of action. Over the past two months he'd lugged half of Hogwarts' library into Hermione's hospital room. He read all the tomes aloud hoping that the recitation of words and fragments of information would spark some kind of resurrection in her sensibilities. Nothing had worked much to Harry's severe disappointment.

Harry summoned a book and caught it in his open hand. “Hermione and I have work to do, if you don't mind,” he said. He looked toward the door making clear his desire to have them leave the room.

One by one the traitors filed out. They cast him frustrated glares, clapped him on the shoulder reassuringly, or offered to lend an ear should he find the need to talk about it. Not one of them said a word to Hermione. He hated that they treated her as though she were dead - she wasn't. She was sitting in a hospital bed, breathing on her own and alive, thank you very much.

Harry ignored their insensitivity and began to read to Hermione. When he finished, he gently set the book aside and picked up her hand. He held it gently in his hand and kissed it. “I love you. No matter what.” He stared into her eyes - hoping to see a flicker of recognition but expecting none. He kissed her hand again and set it down over her chest.

He pulled the chair closer to her bed and rested his head on her shoulder. He couldn't help but notice the stench of sterility as it clung to her body - it was the only real proof that she was sick. Harry didn't like to think of her as ill - just on holiday from all the thinking she'd one over the past seven years.

He had the urge to bolt upright and shake her. He just wanted to wake her up and yell at her. He wanted to hear her yell back. He missed the sound of her voice - all prim and tight while she lectured, or when she whispered `I love you' into his ear.

He couldn't take the silence any more. “I'm going to take a short walk. Stretch my legs and a fizzy drink. I'll be back in a bit.”

Harry walked out of the room and looked back at Hermione lying on the bed. He banished the thought that maybe his traitorous enemies might be right.

*

It had been three days since Harry had made his decision and none of the traitors had been back to visit. He was disgusted at how they treated war heroes. He was thankful he didn't have to leave his life in their hands.

Harry was serving tea and biscuits. He made small talk with Hermione about the weather and Ron's horrible behavior while he poured the tea. After her poured the tea, he adjusted Hermione's pillows so she could sit up properly in the bed. “There. Now you can enjoy your tea. Are you comfortable enough?”

He waited for a response. He willed her to speak, to blink, to twitch a hand - anything that would signal that she was still in there somewhere. But, there was nothing.

“Good then. I'm going to put your tea in front of you,” he explained. Harry carefully put down the hot beverage in front of her. He placed her hand on the table a few inches from the tea and stroked her hand. “Go on and drink it. Be careful it's hot.”

Hermione's hand didn't move. A week ago, she would drink the tea on her own. All he'd had to do was ask. She was getting steadily worse.

“Hermione, you can drink the tea. It's alright, love,” he urged. He lifted her hand and moved it a bit closer to the cup. “You need to drink this Hermione.”

Harry picked up his own cup, in slow over exaggerated motions, to show her how it was done. Her eyes stared ahead seemingly seeing nothing. “Just like this,” he whispered.

Hermione's thumb twitched.

Harry cried out, “That's it - keep going, Hermione.”

But Hermione's hand didn't move on its own anymore. Finally he picked up the cup and held it to her lips. He carefully tipped the liquid into her mouth a little bit at a time and she swallowed without any trouble.

“Today's a hard day,” he said to her as he wiped her face. “Tomorrow will be better,” he reassured. “You did great today, Hermione. A lot of hard work I'm sure.”

“Every day's a hard day for the both of you,” Tonks said from the doorframe.

Harry jumped, startled, as she spoke. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Since she moved her thumb,” Tonks admitted.

“Have they sent you to talk me out of this, too?” Harry asked, not bothering to conceal the bitterness in his voice.

“No. I just came for a visit,” she replied cheerily. Tonks edged her way toward Hermione's bed. She bumped into the table holding the tea service on her way, spilling hot water onto the floor. “Bugger,” she swore under her breath.

Harry smiled softly. “Don't worry about it. It was just an accident.” He drew his wand and vanished the spilled water.

Tonks turned to Hermione. “He's so considerate. I would have left the water to dry on it's own!” She stood close to Hermione's bed and picked up Hermione's hand. “Don't you worry about a thing - save getting better - Harry's got it all under control. He's right, Hermione. Tomorrow will be better.”

Harry was surprised. “You're the first person to say that. Everyone else traipses in here telling me off for making her suffer. One bloody healer even told me I should consider the humanity of the Killing Curse!”

“You should use it on him. Do the world a favor.”

Harry quirked an eyebrow at her. “Is this some kind of dark and twisted plan to get me to “commit” her to the care of those who supposedly know better?”

“Harry I am a lot of things - clumsy and old and mad as hell at Remus - but I am not a person who knows when to keep her mouth shut, as you know.”

“So then - you really think she'll get better?”

“I think there's hope, Harry. As long as you love her and keep trying there's hope.”

“Oh,” he said, defeated.

“Don't sound so sad,” she whispered. “There's one thing I do know. I know that if you lock her away and forget her - if you stop trying to save her, then it's certain she'll be stuck like this forever.”

Harry watched as Tonks smoothed Hermione's blankets as gently as she could. He grimaced when Tonks' elbow bumped the bedrail and it fell open.

“Can I really do this?” he asked.

“Yes.”

For Harry, that simple one word reply was enough. That had been the firs time someone actually thought he wasn't crazy for wanting to care for her.

*

“Mr. Potter,” the frustrated Healer clipped. “I don't think you're aware of the level of care she will require. She's not able to do anything for herself. She's like an infant.”

“Really? Because I was sure she was up and walking around a few minutes ago.”

“There's no need to take that tone. We're only trying to help. Your family -“

Harry cut the woman off. “Those people are not my family. They've practically abandoned her.”

“Well,” the Healer said gently, “it is very difficult to see loved ones in this state. Most victims wind up locked away in a special wing of Azkaban. But since the war a nice center has been established …”

“I know all about it. And I'm not going to lock her away. She's not a curiosity to be studied. She's my … she's going to be my wife one day, I assure you.”

“Fine. It seems your mind is made up. Have you a place to take her?”

“Not yet. I haven't been able to leave to look,” he replied.

“She's going to be discharged at the inside of two weeks, Mr. Potter. If you have no place to take her … then we'll have to send her off.”

Harry nodded tightly in understanding. “It will work out.”

After the Healer left Harry sat next to Hermione. He read to her from <I>Hogwarts, A History</I> making sure to read every word. Then he exercised her legs and arms - it wouldn't do for her to get well only to have lost use of her muscles. Then he recited long lists of spells and wand movements to her. “It's important to keep your mind sharp, love,” he repeated to her. “I know I seem silly and I don't mean to patronize - but I'm doing my best.”

He was in the middle of reviewing complex levitation spells when Tonks came for a visit.

“Wotcher, Harry! How's she doing today?” Tonks carefully walked across the room and sat in the empty chair on the far side of Hermione's bed across from Harry.

“No worse,” he admitted. “That's the best news we've had in months. She can't be led to the loo or the shower any more though. And only eats if she's fed. It seems that this is as bad as it gets. That's what the ruddy Healer's tell me, anyway.”

“Well at least we know what we've got to work with,” Tonks added hopefully. “Did they say when she can go?” she tried her best to stay positive. “It'll do her good to get out of this place - too much negative energy.”

“In two weeks time,” he replied. He turned to Hermione. “And we need to find a place, don't we, love?”

“What about Grimmauld Place - at least for the time being?” Tonks suggested.

“No - too dreary. There's no light and … well, it's too depressing for me.”

“Well, mate, there's a cottage for sale near the Burrow,” Ron's voice cut in. He stood in the doorway, hesitant and uncertain.

“You're helping me then?” Harry asked - angry and hurt all at the same time.

“Hello Tonks,” Ron smiled at her.

“Ron,” Tonks acknowledged. She turned her attention to Hermione. “Harry why don't you and Ron take a walk. Hermione and I need to have a chat.”

Harry looked from Ron to Hermione and then to Tonks. “All right. I'll be back in a few minutes.”

Harry stalked across the room and walked past Ron. Ron followed after Harry, his head down, and his gait shortened to stay one step behind his best friend.

“You'd better have a good reason, Ron. Tonks is the only one who's supported me. It should have been you!” Harry sniped. “Hermione would be disappointed. But she wouldn't be surprised.”

“Harry, I know I was a prat. But you can't get angry with me for wanting to do what I thought was right. We don't want to put her in some home.”

“Then why are you lot pushing it?”

“Because I … we … think you deserve a real go at life, Harry. Hermione wouldn't have wanted you to care for her like she was a baby. She would want you to enjoy your life a little.”

“It's no use, Ron. Without her … well life can't be enjoyed anyway.”

“Tonks comes to see you every day,” Ron started.

“As a friend,” Harry said. “She understands. And she still loves Remus. She's just very upset with him.”

“Are you sure? It's not going to get better, Harry. She'll stay the way she is for a while and then … then one day she'll just stop breathing or she'll fall off the bed and break her neck, or any number of equally horrible things.”

Harry took three paces away from Ron. He slid his glasses up his nose and ran a hand through his hair. He sighed. “I'd do anything for her Ron. I know it won't be easy. But I'm sure I am taking her home.”

Ron nodded. “We might not agree, Harry. But we'll all be there to help any way we can.”

Harry smiled. He was glad they offered to help. He just wasn't sure he was able to accept it yet. “That's kind.”

“Don't do that Harry. Don't brush me off like I'm some stranger. I love her, too,” Ron argued.

“Fine. Stay with her while I take Tonks to look at this cottage.”

“Really?” Ron asked, surprised. “I thought you'd keep me from her forever.”

“No. Read to her - we're reading <I>Advanced Potions</I> today,” Harry supplied. “And don't go skipping parts. Ask her questions. We've got to keep her mind sharp for when she wakes up.”

Ron smiled softly and nodded. “Right. Would you be upset if I asked Luna to come by tonight. You could really use a shower and some time for yourself.”

“I'll think about it.”

“That's all I ask, mate.”

*

“Well when Ron said it was near the Burrow I didn't think he meant inches away,” Tonks commented.

“Did you know about this?” Harry asked as he walked through the cottage. It looked tiny from the outside. But it seemed that wizard space had been fully utilized. Harry was quite impressed with the set up.

“No - well, Remus hinted … but … it is a very nice gesture.”

“They've thought of everything,” Harry said, amazed. “Her every need anticipated.”

“I guess when they're sorry you can tell they mean it.”

Harry stopped walking through the house. “I don't know if I ever thank you properly, Tonks. I've been preoccupied lately and … well thanks for standing behind me when no one else did. It means a lot.”

“Harry,” she began tentatively, “can I ask you how you're doing? You haven't stopped to think of yourself at all and …”

“I'm fine,” Harry answered tightly. “Really - I'm fine.”

Tonks closed the gap between herself and Harry, pulling him into a hug. “It's ok to be a wreck. At least in front of me. I won't tell. And if you're not sure you can do a memory charm,” she offered.

“I … it's difficult to talk about. I miss her,” Harry admitted. “She's there in front of me all the time, but not.” He looked away from Tonks, but didn't step back out of the hug just yet. “Like when I'm researching - I read bits aloud and ask her opinion … I wait for her to answer for ages and she doesn't. That's really hard.”

Tonks loosed her hold on him. “You're grieving, Harry. Don't pretend you're not. You've lost someone - even if it's only temporarily.”

Harry stepped back. “I should be used to this by now. No one I love ever stays forever. I shouldn't have loved her. Then she would have been safe.”

“You didn't do this, Harry.”

“I should have insisted that she stay behind.”

“She wouldn't have listened.”

“I should have watched her better.”

“You couldn't have done anything differently.”

Harry looked at Tonks. His eyes were bright with tears. “I just stood there and watched her fall to the ground. She was standing when I first looked, big black dementor hovering over her - reaching for her face. Bellatrix Lestrange cackled behind it and I just watched.”

“There was nothing you could do, Harry. Nothing,” Tonks whispered.

“I could have killed that bitch for what she did to Hermione. But I let her get away. I ran to Hermione's side and blubbered all over her. I forgot my duty.”

By this point, Harry had turned his back to Tonks and had started walking away from her. Tonks reached out for him and walked to him. She tripped over her own shoes and nearly fell into Harry. She grabbed at him frantically and it startled him. “Harry. Listen to me. Are you listening?”

Harry nodded.

“You did your duty - you stuck by Hermione when no one else did. You were there when no one else was. You'll always be there for her and that is what matters. Mark my words - Aunt Bella's day will come …”

“It really creeps me out when you call her that,” Harry added, twisting his face up in a grimace. “I don't like to think of my friends tangled up in that craziness.”

“You of all people should know we can't choose our blood relations -“ she teased.

“I know. But, it's still creepy,” he shuddered playfully, lightening the mood.

The pair was silent for a moment.

“Are you going to take it?” Tonks asked. “It is a beautiful place. They did it for you.”

Harry stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets. He looked up at the ceiling and noticed, once again, the skylight. “I am going to take it. But I really think I should make them sweat a bit - they deserve it.”

Tonks didn't reply to that.

“Well,” Harry yawned. “I should get back to the hospital. Ron's been there long enough.”

“You should go home and take a shower and fly your broom, Harry.”

Harry hesitated. He didn't want to admit he was grateful for this time away from the hospital. He didn't want to admit he needed time away from Hermione. “Do you think Ron will mind?”

“Not at all. You go home and I'll go keep Hermione and Ron company,” she smiled. “You deserve the rest, Harry.”

“Right. I need a shower, then. I'll come back as soon as I'm done.” Harry waved and Disapparated. Tonks followed suit and returned to St. Mungo's.

*

Hermione was discharged a week sooner than expected. Harry moved them into the cottage so graciously provided from their friends.

Harry carried Hermione like a child and placed her in a large squashy chair near the fire. “That's nice isn't it? Just like Hogwarts,” he said.

It was frustrating that Hermione, of all people, didn't respond to him when he spoke.

“One day she's going to answer you and scare the living hell out of you,” Tonks laughed. “And I hope I'm here to see it.”

“Me too,” Harry replied, truly sincere.

“Is everyone else coming?”

“Later - I thought it would be best if you got things settled first. I hope you don't mind.”

“No. No, it's good,” Harry replied absently. “I guess,” he stood up from where he had stooped next to Hermione. “I guess I should … get some tea. It's always the right thing to do.”

Tonks smiled warmly. “I'll get it. You sit and have a chat with Hermione. Tell her about the house.”

Harry sat down in the chair next to Hermione's. Tonks went to the kitchen to make tea. She took her time rummaging through cupboards and drawers for the proper supplies. She had only got the water into the kettle when she heard the distinct sound of sobbing. For an instant her heart leapt into her throat. Hermione was crying! She was responding. She dropped the kettle, water and all, to the floor with a loud, echoing clatter. She got to the door of the kitchen before she realized it was Harry she heard sobbing - not Hermione.

“Dammit - please answer me, Hermione,” Harry pleaded through sobs. “I miss you.”

Tonks disappeared back into the kitchen to give Harry his privacy. She didn't feel right intruding on such a private moment. But she was glad she didn't hear Harry blaming himself anymore.

Tonks waited for the kettle to whistle. She fixed a pot of tea and set it on the tea tray next to three cups and a small plate of vanilla biscuits. She cleared her throat before she entered the living room, giving Harry a second to pull himself together.

Harry stood up and turned his back to Tonks. “Are you sure you should be carrying that around?” As he spoke he wiped his face with the sleeves of his shirt.

“Levitation charm,” she replied. “I learned my lesson about tea trays when I was seven. Nearly scalded my pet kneazle to death when I dropped the whole service.”

“Right,” Harry sniffled. “So - what kind of biscuits do we have then?”

“You don't need to hide from me, Harry. I understand if you want to … but you don't have to.”

“Vanilla! That's perfect,” he said, ignoring Tonks' plea. “I'll take my tea then I'll help Hermione with hers.”

Tonks nodded. She poured her own cup of tea and took a biscuit from the plate. She sat down on the arm of Harry's chair and waited for him to sit before she started speaking.

“These aren't bad for store bought.”

“No. They are - were - Hermione's favorite. Muggle brand,” he shrugged as he took a bite.

“Are,” Tonks correct. “They are her favorite.”

“She's only been home for half an hour and already I don't know what to do with her,” Harry gave an empty laugh. “I'm mad. I need to be committed.”

Harry set his tea down on the small end table to his left. He let his head fall into his open palms and he shook his head.

“Harry,” Tonks called as she got to her feet. “Harry let it out. You can't deal with all this if you don't grieve properly.” She set her tea down next to Harry's and began to rub reassuring circles on his back.

She looked to Hermione who stared ahead, blankly. “Don't worry, Hermione. He'll be fine. It's just a bit of stress. I say he's entitled, don't you?”

Harry's head snapped up. “Stop talking to her. Just stop. These one-way conversations are driving me mad! She can't hear. She can't talk. She can't understand. She's … oh god … she's gone! My Hermione is gone,” he spoke rapidly and his tone was frantic with the realization.

Tonks backed away from the chair and let Harry get up. He started to pace in front of the fire.

“She's … I'm so bloody selfish. I can't keep her here. I'm no good for her. I let this happen. I let her get caught. I …,” Harry fell to his knees sobbing uncontrollably. His whole body convulsed with the weight of his newfound loss. “I … can't … make … this … normal. No matter how much I try … I can't.”

“You can only do your best,” Tonks whispered. “Your best is good enough,” her voice was firmer this time.

“I thought if I … set up house … if I gave her parts of the life … we wanted … she would … wake up. Like Sleeping Beauty.”

Harry continued to sob. Tonks didn't try to speak until his breathing evened out and the tears stopped.

“Miracles happen all the time. Who's to say she won't wake up?”

“I've already tried the kiss - it didn't work. I figured one got her into this mess one could get her out,” he admitted. His voice was so soft Tonks could barely hear it. “Should I just take her to that home? Should I leave her?”

“Harry - you have to do what you think is best. But -,” and she was careful, “if you want to help her, I believe you can.”

Harry swiped at the tearstains on his face. He cleared his throat. “Can you hand me my wand? I want to clean up before the rest of them get here.”

Instead Tonks reached for her own wand. She spelled Harry's tears away. “Brilliant, you've still got eyebrows,” she teased.

“Thank Merlin!” he said touching his face to make sure it was still in tact.

“Everyday it will get easier. You're at the bottom now, Harry. It can't get any worse.”

“Today's the first time I realized that,” he said. “Thanks, again - for everything.”

Tonks shrugged. “Why don't you get Hermione her tea? Just take things one step at a time.”

Harry pulled himself up off the floor using the hand Tonks extended as leverage. It was a new beginning - not the one he'd planned, but the one life gave him. Hermione was depending on him to find a way out of this mess. And he learned, for the first time, that it was okay to depend on others to help him find his way through, too.

*

-- Fin

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