The Pride
by Jardyn39
Chapter 5 - Taking A Running Jump
Harry eventually found his way back to his bedroom and changed into the one-size-fits-all night-things that had been left out for him. It was only then that he discovered that the mattress height of the four-poster bed in the Blue Room made it almost impossible to climb up. He supposed it was the fashion years ago to sleep several feet of the ground.
He kept slipping on the silk sheets and the bed-post creaked ominously when he tried to climb it.
In the end he did a running jump from right across the room, aiming to land right in the middle of the bed. It occurred to him that jumping onto an antique might not be the wisest thing to do while he was mid-air.
In the same instant he wondered what damage he would do when he bounced off again under his own momentum.
Harry landed spread-eagled and didn't bounce.
Instead he immediately sunk down into the ancient unsprung mattress. He fought against the engulfing bedclothes for a moment but eventually just gave up and tried to get some sleep.
He woke a few hours later and was annoyed to find he needed to go and find the bathroom. He struggled and flayed about until finally he grabbed hold of one of the bedposts and hauled himself off the bed, landing with a soft thump on the floor.
Cursing softly, he grabbed his glasses and wand from the side table and headed for the door.
The bright decorations in the Queens Room made it quite easy to pass through in the soft moonlight, but the unfurnished next room was more of a challenge. Harry couldn't walk straight across because there was a scaffold in the centre of the room and great dust sheets covered the windows. He picked his way around the perimeter of the room more by memory than sight until he heard an unexpected noise.
Harry ducked down at once.
"Who's there?" he demanded loudly, his voice echoing slightly around the bare room.
He heard a soft sniff from towards the corner of the room where he was heading.
"Lumos!"
Harry stood up at once.
"Hermione? What are you doing alone in the dark? What's wrong?"
Hermione was sitting in a gap in the dust sheeting with her hands covering her face. Harry went over to the window seat at once and squatted down next to her.
"A- Are you okay?" he asked hesitantly, but she just tried to turn away.
Harry reached out and touched her shoulder, only then noticing the tears that had fallen down her front. He immediately pushed himself up to perch next to her, put his arm around her and drew her close.
Hermione lowered her hands to reveal her face. She was very red and her eyes were puffy from crying.
"Oh, Harry," she managed to say before more tears came. "I feel so embarrassed."
"There's no need," said Harry gently, wishing he had a handkerchief to hand for her.
"I'll have to tell the Ministry," she said between sobs.
"Er, why?"
"Isn't it obvious?"
"Um, no, not really."
"Harry! I've gone and splinched myself! Oh, I'll never live this down."
"Hang on," said Harry, suddenly concerned. "Which bit did you leave behind?"
He leaned forward and tugged away the dust sheeting to see.
"Is it just your leg?" he asked. "Where did to Disapparate from?"
Hermione just cried harder.
"Hermione! Get a grip, will you? Tell me where you came from!"
Hermione started at the tone of Harry's voice.
"Listen," he said more gently. "If I can go and collect your leg, the Ministry nor anyone else need know nothing about this. Please, tell me?"
"The t- tower," she said between gasps. "I Disapparated as soon as I arrived. I didn't fancy walking over here in the dark."
"Good," he said getting up and finding that Hermione was grasping the sleeve of his nightshirt. "Will you be alright on your own for just a moment?"
He waited for her to release him. It tore him up inside to leave her like this, but he knew she wouldn't calm down properly until she was whole again.
"I won't be long, I promise."
Hermione nodded and Harry Disapparated at once. He arrived an instant later at the top of the stable tower but found he wasn't alone.
Justin and Susan were standing in their bedclothes, examining a solitary lower leg standing in the middle of the room.
"Are you sure it's her shoe?" Justin was asking in a whisper.
"Of course it is," replied Susan. "I don't know why you're whispering. It's not like she can hear us!"
Harry coughed gently to announce his presence since is Apparitions tended to be quieter than most. Justin looked around with a start but Susan didn't react at all.
"The alarm went off," Susan explained without looking around. "We knew we had an unexpected visitor and came to investigate."
"Does anyone else know?" asked Harry urgently.
"No," said Justin. "We were about to notify the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad, though."
"Please don't," asked Harry. "Hermione's back at the house and she's in a bit of a state. I'm not sure splinching herself is the only thing that's upset her either."
"Goodness," said Justin. "What can we do? I don't know anyone who can perform the charm."
"Yes, you do," said Susan with a small grin.
"Just leave her to me," said Harry, stooping down and carefully lifting Hermione's leg off the floorboards. "I'll call you if I need you, but perhaps it would be best if she thought you didn't know."
"Yes, of course," said Susan at once. "Hermione would be devastated if news got out. She always prided herself on her magic."
Harry nodded sadly, looking down at the leg in his arms.
"Why did she come back at this time of night?" asked Justin. "Not that she isn't welcome at any time, of course."
None of them seemed to want to voice an answer.
"Well, I'd better be going," said Harry after a few moments.
*
Harry stepped back, the loud crack of the limb attaching spell still ringing in his ears.
"Are you okay?" he asked, although he was confident the attachment had been completed successfully.
Hermione flexed her ankle a few times and then stood before answering.
"Thanks, Harry. I'll be fine now."
"Good," he said with some relief.
"Oh, there is one thing," she said lightly.
"What?"
Hermione gave him a gentle shove and said, "You certainly took your time, and what was it with all the touching?"
"Sorry?"
"Harry, my calf may have been absent but I could still feel it!"
"Um," he said, realising that if he had remembered that particular phenomenon of splinching he might not have held her quite so tenderly.
"I was afraid I'd drop you," he said after failing to think up a plausible excuse.
"Hm."
"What are you doing here so late?" he asked, hoping to change the subject. There was a strong smell of smoke about her although her clothes looked clean if a little ruffled.
Hermione's face seemed to flinch as she apparently remembered why, so Harry said quickly, "Come through into the Blue Room. You'll be more comfortable there."
He took her hand and led her carefully around the scaffold, through the Queens Room and into his bedroom.
Then he remembered why he had got up in the first place.
Excusing himself, Harry dashed back with some urgency to find the bathroom. When he returned at a much slower pace, Hermione was sitting on the bed wearing one of his shirts. Her clothes were folded neatly and placed upon a chair in stark contrast to his own clothes which he had somehow scattered around the room.
To his annoyance, Hermione seemed to have discovered a cabinet which had neatly unfolded into a small set of steps to make climbing up much easier than his own running and jumping approach.
"Throw me down a pillow, will you?" he asked, pulling out a padded chair.
"Don't be silly, Harry."
"Well, I'm not going anywhere near that furniture next door," he said resolutely. "That stuff is priceless and I'm bound to have an accident. Justin told me that magical repairs can't be used either."
"Harry, I'm sure the furniture would be fine. Besides, I'd appreciate it if you didn't leave me alone tonight."
"So, throw me a pillow, then."
"Harry, you'll get cramp in that chair and the floor is cold, hard and has the filth of centuries; whereas this bed is massive. Look, there's plenty of room if I shift up."
Harry looked at her doubtfully as she shifted to the other edge. The bed might be big but he still didn't think it at all appropriate. Unfortunately he didn't know how to say it without upsetting her further.
"I really don't want to be alone tonight, Harry."
He sighed inaudibly and reminded himself that doing whatever Hermione wanted usually worked out in the end.
Harry nodded and Hermione said quietly, "I'm sure Luna won't mind."
"What has Luna got to do with this?"
"Nothing," Hermione said quickly, smoothing down the covers. Harry made a mental note to find out why she would have mentioned Luna just then; but he wouldn't ask her tonight.
Harry climbed up the steps and wondered how it was that Hermione hadn't just sunk beneath the covers like he had before. He hoisted himself onto the bed and lay for a moment right on the edge so that the gap between them was the maximum possible distance. Almost immediately after that he felt himself tipped into his old hole in the centre of the mattress.
Hermione stifled a cry as she too was tipped into the centre, but gave an embarrassed giggle as they found themselves pinned together and facing each other.
"I see what you mean about there being plenty of room," he said with a smile, but immediately realised he would have a problem sleeping with Hermione pressed so close.
He managed to turn over onto his other side and Hermione snuggled up to his back.
"Just like old times," she said, her breath gently brushing the back of his neck.
"Just like old times," he agreed, remembering those nights they had spent evading the Death Eaters. He hadn't got much sleep then either.
"Harry?"
"Yes, Hermione?"
"What was it you were going to say to me at the hospital?"
"Sorry?"
"You began to say something when the lift was arriving. I've been wondering what it was."
Harry's spirits fell a little at the reminder of how Ron had interrupted them again.
"I was just," he began, but found he had to stop. It took a moment for him to banish the unwelcome memory of Ron bounding out of the lift, and by the time he'd done so Hermione was fast asleep with her arm curled over his side. His hand was resting against hers.
"Just like old times," he mouthed to himself.
*
Harry woke in bright morning sunshine with Hermione sprawled out over him but beginning to stir.
"How's my leg?"
"My leg, Harry."
"Nope. It's my leg now. Finders keepers. It's the law."
"I see. Can I at least use it until I get myself a decent peg-leg? I want a nice one, not like Mad-Eye's old thing."
"I'm sure Justin's maintenance people can knock you up something, after all they're used to working with antiques."
"Hey!"
"Well, I suppose you can keep it for a while. Make sure you look after it though," he answered with a laugh as she attempted to kick him with it.
Hermione then relaxed and pulled herself back towards him.
"Thanks, Harry," she said quietly. "I don't just mean taking care of the splinching, nor not pushing me to talk about it yet."
Harry was wondering what he could say to her when she stretched up and kissed him on his cheek before rolling off sideways and jumping down off the bed. He supposed the best he could do was to just be there for her.
*
Harry hesitated before knocking on the bathroom door. It had been over an hour since Hermione had left the room and he was growing a little concerned for her.
He knocked and called gently, "Hermione?"
Harry listened intently for a moment but heard nothing.
He knocked louder and then called again. There was still no reply. Figuring that a stern reprimand would be preferable to leaving her alone and possibly hurt, he made to open the door, except it was locked.
"Alohomora!" he whispered as he pointed his wand at the lock. There was a click and the door swung open.
Hermione was sitting hunched up at the window.
"Hermione, what's wrong?" he asked, entering into the room. The bath was two-thirds full of cold and horrible looking brown coloured water.
He kneeled down right in front of her and waited for her look up. She had been crying again.
"What is it?" he asked.
"The water," she croaked helplessly.
Harry got up and turned the hot water tap on. It spluttered a moment and the same deep red water emerged stone cold. Harry turned the tap off and reached down to pull out the plug except it was already out but the drain pipe didn't want to take the water away.
Harry gave up and vanished the water with a wave of his wand leaving an unpleasant looking tide mark. He didn't think it was dangerous, but as this was Hermione's bath he performed a quick scourgify spell and was pleased to see several years worth of limescale deposits had been shifted too. Thanking Mrs Weasley's home care tuition, he then re-filled the bath with hot soapy water direct from his wand.
"I feel so helpless," complained Hermione.
"Hermione, I'd have thought you'd have figured out by now that I like nothing better than to be able to help you," he said, pulling a stack of warm towels from a cupboard.
He noticed that a complete range of toiletries had been placed on the shelves since he had used the bathroom the previous evening. He realised that Justin and Susan must have taken the rumours of Hermione's difficulties with magic seriously since otherwise they would have expected her to conjure anything she needed.
It was perhaps only a small thing but it showed a degree of thoughtfulness that touched him greatly and made his resolve to help them even stronger.
"Now, hurry up and get in before the water gets cold. I'm going to find a stool so I can sit at the door. I want to be comfortable while you tell me what's up with you."
Harry didn't wait for an answer, but closed the door after him while he went in search of something to sit on. He recalled seeing a saw-horse that might do, but he quickly decided upon an ancient looking spindly chair that had definitely seen better days.
He carried it back and made sure he heard splashing before pushing the bathroom door open.
Harry smiled seeing the small mountain of bubbles heaped over the steaming bath. There was no sight of Hermione at all.
"You do like your bubbles, don't you, Harry?" said Hermione from somewhere inside the massive bath.
He sat down at the doorway. At first he faced away from the door to respect her modesty, but then reasoned that as all anyone could see was the high bath sides, he might as well face her. The spindly chair creaked ominously as he turned.
"Right, now I'm comfortable," he began, "why don't you begin?"
Hermione didn't answer.
"Have you seen a Healer?" he prompted.
"No, of course not. I'd be suspended at once."
"Hermione, how long has this been coming on?"
"Well, I've avoided Apparition for some time now. I just didn't feel confident in myself anymore."
"Transfiguration?"
"No, that's quite recent. This morning was the first time I failed completely but my charm work has been getting progressively weaker for some time."
"How long?"
"I don't really remember. I think it started a few months ago, maybe three. I had a bad head cold and I blamed that at first."
Harry frowned. Three months?
"How have you been getting by at work?" he asked.
"My memory isn't affected," she replied a little tersely. "I still know how to diagnose people; what potions to prescribe and such. Most wand work is just for simple burns and the like, so I've been able to muddle through."
"You've been feeling much more tired than usual, lately?"
"I suppose, although I suspect the stress and worry of all this is why I've not been able to sleep properly."
"Wow," Harry muttered sarcastically. "No wonder you're such a great Healer with diagnostic powers like those."
"I heard that, Harry. Think you could do better?"
"Yes," he answered simply, making Hermione stop splashing at once. "I think you've caught something from one of your patients."
"Oh," said Hermione dismissively, resuming splashing at once. "No. I've been tested for all the possible contagious diseases that could affect my magical abilities."
"I thought you said you hadn't seen a Healer?" said Harry.
"I tested myself, obviously."
"Hermione, what would you say if you heard another trainee Healer doing exactly that rather than seeing a qualified Healer?"
"Well, perhaps I would be a little sceptical that they could see the bigger picture. However, I'm nothing if not thorough, Harry."
Harry let out a low groan of frustration.
"Who is your Head of Department?"
"Harry! You wouldn't!" cried Hermione, as a wave of water was thrown over the bath lip in her agitation.
"Are you going to see sense and consult a private Healer?" he asked seriously.
"It won't do any good, Harry. Besides, I think I might know what it is."
"Well, why not tell a Healer and get a second opinion?"
"If I'm right, there isn't a simple cure," she said miserably.
"What is it?"
"It's just something a little personal, that's all."
Harry felt Hermione's acute discomfort and wished at once that he'd been a little more tactful.
"I'm sorry, Hermione. I shouldn't have asked," he said earnestly. "I want you to be well again, but to be honest I couldn't care less if you never did magic again. I just want you to be happy again."
"That's easier said than done," she replied, the despondency heavy in her voice.
"You said there wasn't a simple cure," Harry reminded her. "Does that mean there is a not-so-simple cure?"
"It's been known, but it isn't a potion kind of fix. The solution may never present itself."
"I think you should let your Healer decide that," said Harry, but as he spoke he thought he heard Hermione mutter something further. He was about to ask her to repeat herself when she spoke again.
"Shut up, Harry," she replied in the tone of the normal mild rebuke she reserved for him. "My water's getting cold."
"Hermione?"
"Yes, Harry?"
"When will you be missed?"
There was a clang as a bar of soap slipped from her fingers and hit the side of the bath.
Deciding not to wait for an answer, Harry got up and said, "I'm going to wash. Call if you need anything."
*
Harry washed and shaved using the china hand-wash bowl he found in his room before dressing and then freshening Hermione's clothes to remove the smell of smoke which still lingered. He folded them back onto the chair as best he could but somehow the folds were not as neat as before. He hoped she wouldn't notice.
He reasoned that she must have been close to a fire or something burning but not so close that she got burned. It hadn't been a chemical burning either; definitely wood. He wondered if it could have been a cauldron fire started to brew some potion. Cauldrons were usually heated with smokeless flames, but perhaps she couldn't start a magical fire.
The idea of this made him very uneasy since home-brewed potion cures could be very dangerous if improperly made.
As soon as she came back from the bathroom Hermione, wrapped head-to-toe in white toweling, threw Harry out of the bedroom. He felt she was putting on a show of being more exuberant than she actually felt, but it was nice to see her a little brighter. Harry then went along to Justin and Susan's rooms to join them for breakfast.
It was probably as well that he met them first because they were dying to know how Hermione was. He had to remind them that Hermione's arrival ought to still be a surprise.
They quizzed him thoroughly but Harry resisted telling them any specifics, although he did vaguely say she was having problems performing magic.
He was reluctant to mention anything about her refusal to see a Healer but of course this was the first thing they thought of for her.
"Perhaps Luna's right, after all," said Justin, earning himself a dark look from Susan. Justin suddenly found the bottom of his tea-cup needed all his attention.
"What did Luna say?" Harry asked slowly, but just then Hermione arrived at the open door.
Susan put down the cup she was about to fill and walked straight over to her and embraced her. Harry knew they hadn't been exactly the best of friends but the caring concern shown was entirely honest.
"I suppose you know I arrived last night?"
Susan released her and said, "Well, yes. We've been beside ourselves with worry. If you'd thrown Harry out we'd have been there for you at once."
Harry blanched. He had told them she had slept in the Blue Room. If asked he had intended to lie and pretend he'd slept in the Queen's Room, except they hadn't asked.
"If only I'd known!" joked Hermione. "I'm fine, really. I'm just feeling a little run-down, that's all."
"Then you really must stay," said Justin at once. "A few days at the very least."