A/N - thanks again for the reviews, I've loved reading them. Well, this is the second to last chapter but still a last dash of angst before the fluff. I hope you enjoy.
Chapter 7
The news of Hermione and Dan's break-up didn't take long to go around the group of friends. Hermione had shut herself off after her visit to Harry, but he heard that things had been a bit tense after her birthday, Dan upset at how close she was to both Harry and Ron. He then confronted her, saying they had been dating for nearly a year now and he thought it was time he became more important. She told him that he was but Harry and Ron were important to her too; he said it wasn't good enough and she'd have to choose.
Neville had found this out, he being one of the few from the wizarding world she would see. Luna had also been allowed a visit but Harry and Ron were told to stay away until she was ready.
It was near Halloween when she walked into the Owlery, where Harry and Ron were having a few quiet beers. Harry's heart swelled at the sight of her and after a moment or two of uncomfortable ness, the three began to chat and soon things returned to normal.
Both Ron and Neville started giving Harry advice on what he could do to get together with Hermione, Paul even adding his two pence in. But Harry was ignoring all their comments and just enjoyed his time with her. He wanted to be sure about everything before he said or did anything - he didn't want to hurt her in any way.
As his final Auror exams approached, the more Harry thought he was in the wrong profession. He enjoyed the comradery of his workmates, the bond that they all had - but he hated the job. He hated the uncertainty of surviving the missions they were sent on, he hated the people he was dealing with - and he hated being apart from his friends.
Which was why he was in a foul mood, hunched in a tiny room with Paul, another Auror, Carlson, and their boss, McKinnon, not sure if this was one of the many secret 'assessments' the recruits were now getting or a real stake-out. Either way, it had been five hours of sitting in the dark, damp, smelly place watching a supposedly warded building and waiting for a sign of their foe.
It had been deadly quiet and Harry was bored out of his brain. Another reason he hated the job - hours of sitting still and waiting, something he wasn't particularly good at.
"Longbottom?" Carlson's voice broke the silence from his vantage point at the window overlooking the street, "what the hell is he doing here?"
"The idiot," McKinnon growled, going over to Carlson and looking out into the street, "this isn't his assignment. He'll ruin everything!" But Harry's mind went into overtime. Neville took his job very seriously, and was brilliant at it - he wouldn't risk everything without a reason. Harry quickly turned his omnioculars to the street and onto his friend, noticing he was carrying a book and looking as casual as all the other people wandering pass. Focusing on the book, Harry's heart stopped as he saw the title - 'Hogwart's: A History'.
Something was wrong with Hermione.
Dropping the omnioculars to the ground and ignoring everyone around him, he scrounged through his pockets until he found the coin that Hermione had formulated for the DA meetings. Using a spell that he and Neville had worked out in case one of them was in trouble and needed the other, the coin glowed.
"He's stopping," Carlson told them, "he's coming this way!" McKinnon swore as Harry stood to face Neville when he entered the room, releasing the wards to allow him entry. As soon as Neville came in, Harry was at him.
"What's wrong?" he asked frantically, "where's Hermione?"
"Susan Bones is working with Muggle relations at the Ministry and overheard news that a witch had been taken to hospital in Oxford," Neville told him quickly, "when she heard Hermione's name, she came to find you but found me instead. It sounds like she's hurt quite badly."
"I…I need to go," Harry stammered, the thought that Hermione was badly hurt stunning him somewhat.
"You can't leave, Potter," McKinnon snapped, standing in front of the door, "you're in the middle of a mission."
"I don't care. You lot can do this," Harry snarled, ready to push his way out, "I'm going to see Hermione, let's go Neville."
"If both of you leave, your careers are over," McKinnon continued harshly, "you will have failed the course and will not be Auror's! Is she worth that?"
Harry paused and thought. After a few moments, he turned to Neville.
"Nev, stay," he told his friend, "you're good at this, you want this. Don't give it up now."
"But…"
"I let you know what's happening as soon as I can," Harry interrupted, "but she'd be right pissed off if she finds out that you've given up your dream because of her."
"What about you?"
"This isn't my dream anymore," Harry answered with a smile, knowing it was the truth. Neville thought for a moment, then nodded, handing Harry a small piece of parchment.
"Here's the name of the hospital," he instructed quickly, "I owled Ron and told him to meet us at the Granger house. He should be there."
"Thanks," Harry said then glanced at Paul, who had stood by Harry's side, "sorry to let you down, mate," he told his partner.
"You haven't, Harry," the older man smiled, "good luck, son."
Harry just nodded then faced his boss.
"You've just lost the 'Famous Harry Potter' from your squad," he snipped, daring the man to restrain him, "I don't think it would pay to lose your top recruit as well. Neville can take my place here and any penalty for him coming here with this message should be taken up with me. Do you understand?"
McKinnon didn't answer, just glared back at Harry. With a final glance to Paul and Neville, Harry ignored his now ex-boss and Apparated to Oxford.
He found Ron pacing around the front garden, pale and worried. The redhead looked up at Harry's approach, following Harry when he didn't go up the driveway and instead continued walking down the road.
"What do you know?" Ron asked briskly, easily keeping up with Harry.
"Just that it sound's like she's badly hurt and that she's in hospital," Harry replied, glancing at Ron, "you?"
"Same," Ron frowned, "do you know where this hospital is? Can we Apparate?"
"No," Harry informed him, checking the traffic before crossing the road, "but I know where the taxi stand is. Come on, let's go."
With that, Harry started to jog, then run, determined to get to Hermione as soon as he could. Though he was fitter than Ron, Ron kept up easily with his long strides and it wasn't long before they found a taxi and was on their way to the hospital.
"Neville said he had to find you," Ron panted, catching his breath, "were you out on a mission?"
"Yeah."
"And you just left?" Ron continued, "bloody hell, Harry - it could've been an assessment!"
"It probably was," Harry shrugged, "McKinnon was there. Though, he's been at a lot of my missions so who knows."
"You're gonna be in serious shit, mate," Ron told him worriedly.
"No, I'm not," Harry shrugged again, "because he fired me. If anyone's going to be in serious shit, it's gonna be McKinnon. Still, he's always treated me like all the other recruits, I've gotta give him that. If it was anyone else, they would've been fired too."
"But fired?" Ron repeated, "blimey, Harry…"
"I don't care," Harry snapped, "this is Hermione, Ron."
"I know, I know," Ron agreed, leaning back heavily in the seat, "I left the store in the hands of Sharon bloody Fingerwort. If she had a brain cell, it'd be lonely. Trustworthy though…"
"Here you are gents," the taxi driver interrupted and as he paid the fare, Harry started to panic. He wanted to see Hermione, to find out what had happened, what was wrong with her. But the idea of her hurt badly terrified him and he wasn't sure if he could handle it.
"Harry?" Ron called out, breaking into Harry thoughts. Seeing his friend's worried face, Harry's resolve returned and breaking once more into a jog, they entered the busy hospital and after asking for directions, found themselves at the intensive care unit.
The first person Harry saw was Dan standing to the side, talking to a couple of policemen. Harry felt himself stumble slightly as he noticed the front of Dan's shirt - it was covered in blood.
"Mr Potter, Mr Weasley," both boys turned to the sound of a familiar voice and saw Professor McGonagall making her way towards them, Mr and Mrs Granger with her, "I wish it was in better circumstances to see you again…"
"Where's Hermione?" Harry asked, looking past his old teacher, at that point not really caring why she was there, and instead looked at the Grangers for answers, noting the tears in Mrs Granger's eyes, "what happened? How is she?"
"Hermione's in surgery," Mr Granger explained, hugging his wife to him, "she was rushed there the moment they brought her in. She has massive internal injuries but…but they won't tell us more at this stage."
"What happened?" Ron asked quietly.
"She…she got hit by a car," Mr Granger told them, "one of those huge SUV things. The driver was on his cell phone and didn't see her…"
Harry couldn't believe it. After everything they'd been through, after all the dangers they had faced, it was a Muggle accident that could take her from him. Taking a few deep breaths to get himself under control, he looked at Professor McGonagall.
"Why are you here, Professor?" he asked her briskly.
"Our contact here recognised Miss Granger the moment she entered the emergency room," the professor answered, "the Ministry were notified and then she contacted myself, thinking that Madam Pomfrey would be able to help as she knows Miss Granger's medical history the best."
"So, are we transferring Hermione to St Mungo's?" Ron questioned his old teacher.
"No," Mrs Granger replied before Professor McGonagall could.
"It would be better for her there," Ron carried on, glancing at Mrs Granger as he did so, "they could heal her much faster…"
"No!" Mrs Granger repeated firmly, "we will not let you take our daughter from us again! She is my baby, my little girl and I will not be pushed aside like an insignificant…thing. We are her parents and she needs us!"
"But…"
"She stays here, Ron," Harry interjected softly.
"Harry," Ron objected just as softly, "our Healers could…"
"She stays here," Harry interrupted firmly, giving Ron a look that told him to stop. His friend got the message, nodded in understanding and stayed silent.
"Thank you," Mrs Granger said tiredly, "and thank you for both being here. We really appreciate it."
Harry wanted to say something supportive, something comforting, but couldn't think of anything that could remotely make things better. Instead, he noticed Dan had finished with the police and had gone and sat alone on one of the hospital chairs, his head in his hands. Excusing himself, he went over to Hermione's friend and sat at his side.
"Hey," he ventured. Dan looked up, saw it was Harry and gave a wry smile.
"Hi Harry," he greeted with a weariness that oozed from every pore.
"What did the police want?" Harry asked with what he hoped was casualness.
"I saw it all happen," Dan answered, leaning back in his chair, "they needed a statement. It seems they caught the bastard that hit her."
"He didn't stop?"
"No," Dan growled, "evidently he had had a few beers at lunchtime as well as deciding to have a phone conversation while driving. Tried to deny that he'd done anything wrong even though there were at least ten other witnesses and his car had damage. Unbelievable."
"You…you helped her?" Harry asked, awkwardly indicating to Dan's bloody shirt.
"I tried," Dan snorted as he run a hand through his hair, "not that I could do much. There was so much…she was pretty bad." His voice cracked and he quickly turned away from Harry.
"You were with her," Harry reasoned quietly, "at least she wasn't alone."
Dan didn't reply and instead nodded sadly. The two of them then sat in silence as they waited, Ron joining them after a while. The minutes grew into an hour and a half with Harry's worry growing the longer Hermione's fate was kept from them - and he could tell that he wasn't alone with his increasing concern.
It was close to two hours before the doors opened and a group of people walked towards them; two in surgical scrubs, one that could only be the Healer from St Mungo's and Madam Pomfrey, her face sombre and drawn.
As one, Dan, Harry and Ron stood while Mr and Mrs Granger went to the doctors, Professor McGonagall a respectful few paces behind them.
"Mr and Mrs Granger," the man in the surgical scrubs greeted, "I'm Doctor Stephens, I am the head surgeon with your daughter's treatment. Perhaps we could go somewhere more private to talk?"
"No, no, you can tell us all," Mr Granger instructed nervously, holding onto his wife tightly.
Harry listened to this stranger talk about Hermione in numb silence. He didn't take in many of the details, as phrases like 'massive internal injuries' and 'drugged induced coma' over took everything else. When they were told that Hermione only had, at this stage, a thirty five percent chance of survival he was sure the world stopped. He vaguely heard Mrs Granger's sobs and vaguely was aware that Ron had draped an arm across his shoulders in an unusual attempt of comfort but other than that there was just numbness.
There was a good chance that Hermione could die. He could lose her forever.
He blinked when he heard his name, realising that the Granger's were telling the doctors that himself and Ron were family and they could visit. He glanced at Dan, saw the look of realisation on the man's face, the knowledge that he was no longer part of Hermione's life, and whether the Granger's meant to be insensitive or not, he realised he had been cut off.
Harry knew that the Granger's concern was solely for their daughter and what was right for her, not really thinking of much else. Dan knew it too, and with a small sad, smile at Harry, turned and walked away.
Hearing his name once more, he realised he was being asked whether he wanted to see her. He noted that the Healer, Madam Pomfrey, Professor McGonagall and the woman in surgical scrubs had grouped together while the Grangers were with Doctor Stephens. Decisions were being made on Hermione's future and he wanted to be part of that. Telling the Grangers they'd be there soon, he indicated to Ron and together they went over to the other group.
"She should be transferred to St Mungo's immediately," the Healer proclaimed, "if she is to survive, she needs to be under magical care!"
"I'm afraid I agree with Syril," Madam Pomfrey added, "Miss Granger is in terrible danger. Her best chance is with our care."
"Adam and Helen prefer her to stay here…" Professor McGonagall put forth.
"Would they prefer their daughter to die?" the Healer spat.
"Of course not," the professor snapped, "your comment is uncalled for, Healer Stopic."
"I am just speaking the truth," Healer Stopic replied haughtily.
"Hermione stays here," Harry spoke up, glaring at the Healer, "unless you can guarantee that Mr and Mrs Granger can visit their daughter at St Mungo's?"
"Well, that cannot happen," Healer Stopic grumbled, "if we let in Muggles then the whole of the defences would collapse!"
"Then she stays here," Harry emphasised, "we'll find a compromise. Hermione needs her parents and we're not denying them anymore."
"Mr Potter," Healer Stopic began, standing up to his full height (and still only coming up to Harry's shoulders), "I appreciate your position, but this is a medical matter and you may not have Miss Granger's full condition…"
"Healer Stopic," Harry cut in, now scowling, "I am fully aware of the facts but I need you to understand this. Hermione's parents are Muggle born. They want to be with their daughter, who they've been told may not last the night. Hermione and her family have given the wizarding world a lot, so the wizarding world is giving them this. She stays here, we find a compromise that uses both the Muggle technology of this hospital and the magical expertise that you can provide and we will not let Hermione die."
"I agree with Mr Potter," the woman in the surgical scrubs said in the silence that followed Harry's statement. Harry turned to the stranger with interest.
"I'm sorry," Professor McGonagall quickly said, coming up to the stranger, "Mr Potter, Mr Weasley, this is Doctor Trembath. She is the Chief of Surgery here and is our contact. She is also an old friend."
"Keeping Miss Granger here while still getting magical care can be organised," Doctor Trembath instructed as she took off her surgical scrubs to reveal a smart business suit, "we just need to plan things."
"How?" Ron questioned, "I mean, how are you going to explain if she suddenly makes a remarkable recovery because of a potion or something?"
"At this stage, Doctor Stephens is the only other person with an extensive knowledge on Miss Granger's condition," the Professor continued, "I have already told him that I have a personal interest in this case and will take over primary care. He will hand over her charts after this meeting with her parents. We can hand select the ICU nurses that know the meaning of discretion which would mean we can keep the number of staff aware of her progress quite limited."
"You can really do all of that?" Ron asked, frowning.
"I am the head of this department, Mr Weasley," Professor Trembath told him, "I can do all of that."
"There are certain procedures that will need to be performed that cannot be witnessed by Muggles," Healer Stopic warned, "she will need to be in a private ward."
"That can be arranged," Professor Trembath nodded thoughtfully, "however, it does cost extra than if she stayed on a public ward. I'm not sure whether the Granger's…"
"I can cover all expenses," Harry interrupted, "don't worry Mr and Mrs Granger with talk of money. Shift Hermione into a private ward. If the nurses need to be paid to stay silent, let me know. She is to get the best of care."
"I understand," Professor Trembath smiled.
"I am sure the Ministry will also help cover costs," Professor McGonagall added, "considering the service this young lady has given to us all."
"We will also need someone to liaise with the family, staff here and staff at St Mungo's," Professor Trembath continued, "ensuring that all parties are kept informed and decisions are made with the knowledge of all."
"I'm afraid both myself and Poppy must return to Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall informed them, "term has started and I must be there. In fact, we must get back rather soon."
"I…I can't," Ron advised hesitantly, "I can't leave the shop for too long and it's the busiest time of the year for us. I'm sorry, but this is our first year and…"
"It's okay Ron," Harry cut in, "I'm unemployed now and I'm planning to stay here until she's fine to leave anyway. You need to make sure the shop works."
"You sure?" Ron tried to confirm and Harry could see his conflict.
"Yes," Harry acknowledged, "and I know Hermione will understand."
"She's gonna kill you, though," Ron tried to joke, "losing your job like that!"
"Yeah, I know," Harry smiled weakly, before quickly sobering up, "you'll come in with me, to see her now, I mean. You'll…you'll be with me, right?"
"Of course, mate," Ron assured with a weak smile of his own.
"How about I take you two into see Miss Granger now," Professor Trembath suggested gently, "Minerva, if you could spare Poppy for a little bit longer so she, I and Healer Stopic can discuss her care more fully, I would be grateful."
"Of course, Kate," Professor McGonagall agreed, "though I must get going. Poppy - a quick word? Mr Potter and Mr Weasley, I will stay in touch and please don't hesitate to contact me if you require any assistance you think I could offer."
Harry nodded and watched as his old professor turned and walked away, the school nurse in her wake. Realising just how nervous he was, he started when Professor Trembath asked if they were ready and then led them to the doors Doctor Stephens and the Granger's disappeared through before.
The stray thought that in the past, every time he had gone to face something emotionally scary that he had held onto Hermione's hand in for support, that she had been the one with him, knowing he would need comfort and giving him that strength by a simple touch.
Hermione wasn't by his side this time and he knew reaching out for comfort from Ron wouldn't be the same on so many levels. He felt alone and scared.
They walked down a corridor of bustling nurses and glass walled rooms containing sick people connected to tubes and wires. When they finally came to Hermione's room, Harry didn't recognise her and thought they had stopped at the wrong bed.
He heard Ron swear and saw Mr Granger look up at them with watery eyes. Professor Trembath began explaining what all the machines were, what they did and how they either kept Hermione alive or monitored that she was still alive. Harry listened because part of him knew he needed to know so he could help take care of her.
But he couldn't believe the tiny, fragile girl lying in the bed was the strong, vibrant woman he was in love with.
"I…I gotta go, Harry," Ron whispered and Harry could hear the fear in his friend's voice. He just nodded to let Ron know he heard and understood before making his way to the bedside and sitting down. Her parents were holding onto the hand that was free of needles - that hand lay at the side Harry was sitting at. Gently, he took the cold, lifeless, wounded hand in his own and stroked the small piece of skin that didn't have any sign of medical intervention.
The following days were surreal for Harry. He and the Granger's were constantly by Hermione's side, only leaving to use the toilet. The plans the medical staff had made went into action, and although there were no outward signs of improvement, there were assurances that because she was still alive, what they was doing was working.
Harry found himself listening to Mr and Mrs Granger's stories with genuine interest as they reminisced about their time with their daughter, telling him of tales of a Hermione Harry didn't know. Sometime the stories were told with tears but most of the time it was with humour and Hermione was always included, asked for confirmation of details even though there was no expectation of an answer.
He and the Granger's became close and he could see how Hermione's sometime's stubborn desire to do what is right and need to look out for those less fortunate came from the ideals of her parents. He also learnt that Hermione had shared a lot of her time at Hogwarts with her mum and dad, but they had been unaware of the true nature of some of their adventures until they had been over.
By the third day, when Hermione was taken off the ventilator and was now breathing on her own, Harry was calling her parents Adam and Helen and their routine at the hospital was set.
Ron visited most evenings, once with his father, but was uncomfortable and awkward so rarely stayed long. Neville also visited, telling Harry of the fall-out from his dismissal, but his main concern was solely for Hermione and Harry felt a rush of gratitude for his friend.
On the fourth day, Hermione gained consciousness for a brilliant, brief moment, giving the first real indication that she was going to live. By the fifth day, she woke again when Harry had been sent home to have a shower and change his clothes (which, by even his standards, were getting rather smelly). By the time he returned, she had fallen back to sleep leaving her tearful parents to tell him the news.
It wasn't until day six that he got to speak to her for the first time. Mrs Granger had gone home to have a nap leaving Mr Granger and Harry with Hermione. Harry had just gone to the toilet to return to find Hermione talking to her father. She heard him enter the room and turned and looked at him, her brown eyes once more full of life.
"Hey you," he managed to choke out, trying to stop the emotion that was threatening to engulf him.
"Aren't you supposed to be at work?" she asked in response and Harry laughed, the first time for a long while.
"Well," he began as he sat down in his chair, smiling at Mr Granger, "there has been some complications with regards to that..."
"I see," she answered thoughtfully, "let me guess - you got fired."
"You know me so well," he joked but stopped smiling when she didn't return his laugh.
"Oh Harry," she gushed instead, "why?"
"They made me choose," he shrugged and he saw the recognition of his words cross her face. She didn't say anything and after a few moments, talk resumed about other things and the miracle that was Hermione being alive.
The next few days saw Hermione being moved from one private room to another where the focus was more on rehabilitation and getting Hermione home now it was clear she was going to make a full recovery. Harry was there every step of the way, welcoming friends into her room (making a point of telling Hermione Dan's part in her survival). Within a week, she was given the all clear to go home.
Discussion about her care once she got home happened both with and without Hermione until a final solution had been agreed upon. Now they just had to sell it to the reluctant patient.
"I found a new job," Harry told her the day before she was due to leave, smiling when her eyes lit up with anticipation at his news.
"That's wonderful Harry!" she exclaimed, including her parents in her gaze, "what is it? Are you back at the Ministry?"
"Well, no, actually," Harry started, inwardly cringing at what he knew was to come, "something much more important than working for the Ministry."
"Really?" she said, puzzled, "oh, come on Harry - tell me!"
"Okay," he took a deep breath, "I'm going to be looking after you, be your nurse, so to speak."
"What?"
"I'm going to look after you," Harry repeated, not liking the frown that was sitting on Hermione's brow, "your parents have agreed to let me stay in the spare room and I'll be there to keep you company and help with your rehab while they're at work…"
"You're going to look after me?"
"Yeah," he continued on enthusiastically, "of course, you'll get a real nurse to help you shower and dress every morning, and Helen will help you get to bed - until you can do it on your own. But everything else…"
"Harry," Hermione interrupted, "you can't look after me - that's ridiculous! You can't go from being an Auror to a baby sitter! It's totally absurd!"
"No it's not," Harry told her seriously, leaning forward and taking her hands in his, "this is what I want to do. Please let me."
She looked at him intently for a few moments before uttering an exasperated "honestly" and Harry knew he had won.
It was the first of December when Hermione was wheeled into the hallway of her home. For the weeks that followed, Harry got her meals, took her out shopping, helped her with her exercises and made her smile. He was having fun and every day made him realise how much he loved her and knew that he needed to tell her and tell her soon.
Christmas was just around the corner and Hermione was now walking and, according to her last check up at St Mungo's, was one hundred percent cured. Harry had no excuse to stay at the Grangers any longer but remained silent as no-one else mentioned him leaving. He liked it there and knew that when he would eventually have to go back to Grimmauld Place, he would miss the Granger's terribly.
It was Christmas Eve and the couple were walking towards the now familiar graveyard at Godric's Hollow. They walked hand in hand, like the first time they had visited, their breaths coming out in cold puffs although both were respectfully silent.
"I can't believe it was two years ago when we came here for the first time," Harry whispered as they stood at his parents graves.
"I know," Hermione replied just as quietly, "it seems like a lifetime ago. So much has happened…"
"And things have changed," Harry cut in, looking down at Hermione as he did so, catching her gaze. Something in his heart gave a twitch - she looked absolutely beautiful. Her cheeks were tinted red by the winter chill and there was a depth in her eyes that just blew him away. He could see her love for him on her face, a tenderness that he had only ever seen coming from her.
She quickly looked away from him, her eyes fixed on the snow at her feet.
"I don't think I've ever said sorry to you," she said after a moment or two.
"Sorry?" Harry repeated confused, "what for?"
"For how I handled everything," she explained, looking back at him, "after the war. I was so selfish, doing things because I wanted to and not really considering how they would affect others. I put you in a very awkward situation and I treated Dan terribly. I…I had a long chat with Daniel and apologised. And I also owe you an apology as well. I made such a mess of everything and I'm so sorry."
"You have nothing to be sorry for," Harry smiled at her, "I mean, I've spent most of our friendship taking you for granted, just expecting you to always be there for me without even thinking of what that meant for you. What's happened this past year and a half has made me see what's always been there but I've never really noticed before."
"What's that?"
"How important you are to me and that I can't lose you."
Before she could say anything, he bent down towards her and kissed her, softly at first until he felt her respond to him, giving him permission to intensify the kiss. Her arms wrapped around him, as did his around her, and it felt wonderful. It felt so natural, so real, as if this is where he was supposed to be. She was all he needed. She was home.
He felt the emotion bubble up inside of him, and it made him pull away. She looked at him with surprise though a small smile told him she was alright. He moved his hands from her waist to frame her face, holding it gently so he could remember how she looked right now forever.
"I love you," he told her, his voice thick as he tried not to cry. Hermione pulled back slightly, her smile faltering under his intensity.
"What?" she choked out and Harry was sure he could read all the emotions that crossed her face - hope, fear, happiness.
"I love you, Hermione," he repeated, more strongly this time, "I think I have for a very long time but I'm a bit slow about these sort of things."
"Oh, Harry," she sighed, now smiling broadly as she reached up and ran a gloved finger down the side of his face, "I have to say that you have been rather dense."
"Yeah, I know," Harry chuckled before asking her seriously, "so, do you still love me?"
"I've never stopped," she replied, accentuating her statement with a kiss.
"Do you want to go somewhere warmer?" he asked her when they came up for air, his desire for her growing with every kiss.
"We're visiting your parents," she answered with a small smile.
"I'm sure they'll understand if this visit isn't a long one," Harry smiled back, and he noticed the glint in her eye, "Hermione, I've wanted you for so long now, and after that last kiss, I don't think I can wait too much longer."
"You're complaining about me keeping you waiting," she chided, "have you got any idea, Mr Potter, how long I've waited for you?"
"You don't have to wait for me any more," Harry whispered to her, his voice low and husky as he bent towards her and kissed her once again.
"Take me home," she groaned into his mouth and when he pulled back in surprise, thinking she meant Oxford, she clarified by adding a throaty "your home," before returning her lips to his.
Later that night, as he held Hermione to him, her head resting on his chest as she dozed, he realised how different their love making had been this time around. Before, the aftermath had only brought confusion and uncertainty. Now, he felt complete as if being with Hermione had finally filled that need that had been with him all his life.
Before, he had known Hermione loved him. Now, he could feel her love and the fact that it was returned made everything more amazing.
"We should get back to my place," Hermione muttered tiredly, "my parents will start to worry."
"Perhaps I shouldn't go back," Harry ventured as he wrapped one of her curls around his finger, released it and found another to repeat the action, "things have changed," he began, "and your parents entrusted me being in their house with their daughter with the knowledge that we weren't together therefore there was no risk of me sneaking into your bedroom at night and doing what we've just done."
"And now you will?" she asked, fully awake and looking at him with a quizzical quirk of an eyebrow.
"Well…" he joked, pretending to think about the option seriously.
"Honestly Harry," she sniffed, "as if I would let you. My parents sleep right next door, for goodness sake!"
"True," he carried on, thoughtfully, "still, there are spells to stop any noise, and…"
"Harry!"
"I'm kidding," he laughed before quickly sobering up, "though I don't want to do things wrong by your mum and dad."
"You won't," Hermione assured, leaning on an elbow so she could look him in the eye, "you have to be there for Christmas day, Harry. It'd be strange if you weren't."
"Yeah, you're right," he grinned, kissing her gently, "and I've been looking forward to waking up Christmas morning with you for so long."
"So have I," she breathed, "and maybe next Christmas we will be able to sleep in the same bed."
He smiled at her, hoping that that would be the case.
It was the best Christmas he had ever had. He could tell Adam and Helen knew his relationship with their daughter had changed even before they told them and was truly touched when they welcomed him to their family. It seemed the idea that had been festering in his mind for the last few weeks was written across his face for all to see - everyone who saw him asked him when he would be asking Hermione to marry him.
It was only a matter of time.
A/N2 - poetic licence with the hospital stuff. Not really sure if what I wrote would actually work but, hey - it's fiction. Sorry if there are any glaring 'now, that just wouldn't be the case' with the whole accident thing. Thanks for reading and only one more chapter left.