Author Note: Imogen, Hermione's older sister, makes her first appearance in this chapter. She was mentioned briefly before, in Chapter 12 (The Third Day, Part 2).
A slight flush crossed Hermione's face and Harry noticed small movements in her fingers. Her eyelashes flickered, then her eyes blinked, once, twice, three times. A sudden shaft of sunlight caught her hair in its golden light. Her eyes were fully open now, and she was looking at him.
"Harry," Hermione whispered.
"Hermione." Harry's heart was so full he had no words. He grabbed her hand in both of his and kissed it over and over in joy and relief.
The Third Day - Part 5
"Hermione, are you okay?"
"I'm so thirsty," she said in a raspy whisper. Next to the bed was a glass of water that had been charmed to remain cool. Harry picked it up and offered it to her.
Feebly, Hermione lifted her head, but she quickly fell back on the pillow. Harry reached his arm around her shoulders and supported her so she could sit up. She swallowed eagerly, draining the entire contents.
"I'm so cold," she said. "Why is it so cold?"
"Do you want some cocoa? Looks like Madam Pomfrey left you a huge mug full. Maybe it'll thaw you out."
Hermione took a few sips, then paused. "You melted me, Harry, only you..."
Harry's smile was so broad it reached his ears. It was now or never. "I love you, Hermione," he said with all the power of his heart. He had never said those words to anyone before.
"I know," she replied, her eyes shining. "I heard you last night. I heard everything." She took another sip of cocoa then gave the mug back to Harry. "But I couldn't move. I couldn't speak. I tried--so hard--but it was as if I was imprisoned in a sheet of ice. But I heard you." She took Harry's hand in both of hers. "I felt the heat of your breath, like a warm fire melting the ice. Then I felt you draw the poison out of me. That was very brave, Harry. And very rash."
"How could I live without my soul?" Harry asked, turning his eyes to the book of engravings, still open to the image of the stag and the unicorn. Hermione smiled, and a tinge of palest pink blushed her cheeks.
"I love you, Harry," she said, turning slightly so she could look into his soft green eyes. She raised her hand to his face and timidly brushed his cheek with the tips of her fingers. Harry grasped her hand and kissed it, her fingers, her palm, her wrist. He looked up at her pale white face and, tangling his fingers in her hair, he drew her to him and pressed his lips gently against hers. Her lips were still cold, but soft and yielding, and with a lingering taste of chocolate.
"We have to get you warm. Let's get you to the fire." Harry stood and half-carried, half dragged Hermione to the chesterfield. He sat down and pulled her onto his lap, wrapping his arms tightly around her so her back was pressed firmly against his chest. He tried to keep as much contact with her body as possible, to give her his warmth from her shoulders to her ankles.
"I think we can do better than this, don't you?" Harry asked, motioning toward the modest pile of embers smoldering in the ancient fireplace.
"Yes, indeed," Hermione said, releasing her right arm from Harry's grasp. Before she could extend her hand and speak the spell, the embers blazed up in huge tongues of flame, sending a wave of warmth into the room. "Wow. I never did that before," she said.
"That's not exactly true, Hermione. Remember the bluebell flames you conjured back in Second Year? These are just a different colour-and hotter. You've always been a master of fire," he teased.
"Ah yes," Hermione laughed, as she leaned back into his embrace. As Harry warmed the back of her neck with soft breaths and kisses, she interleaved her fingers in his and clasped and unclasped their hands. As she drew her finger along the back of his right hand her nail caught in a deep scratch.
Harry winced.
"What's this, Harry?" Hermione asked, grasping his hand. "I looked you all over after the battle and you were uninjured. What happened?"
"It's a long story and don't worry--I'll tell you everything, but…well…Viktor and Draco and I had to go to Malfoy Manor. . . and we had a bit of a run in with Fenrir Greyback. And he scratched me."
Hermione gasped.
"But it's fine. We captured him and tied him up. Draco got the worst of it actually. But he's going to be fine too. Truly." Harry was not going to sacrifice an instant of his moment of happiness with Hermione, so he quickly changed the subject. "Did you know that Viktor has an otter Patronus? I saw it. Very impressive. Had me worried for a while. You know, because of my mother and Snape-both having Does, remember?"
"So you thought I might be in love with Viktor? Harry…" she said, turning in his arms and kissing him firmly, leaving him in no doubt about her feelings. "You know, Ron was right about one thing this year. I did choose you. I just didn't realize what it meant at the time. I could never leave you."
Lost in joy and happiness, Harry and Hermione did not notice when Crookshanks padded silently back into the room. They startled and let go of each other when he jumped onto the chesterfield and climbed into Hermione's lap. She laughed and began scratching him between the ears. Crookshanks purred loudly, in deep contentment.
"Am I always going to have to share you with him?" Harry asked.
"Do you mind?"
"No. So long as he's the only one."
Harry suddenly heard the squeaky soles of Madam Pomfrey's shoes behind them, entering the infirmary. As he turned to look, he heard a sharp gasp and the clatter of a metal tray hitting the stone floor. A dozen steaming hot towels scattered to the ground. Crookshanks jumped off Hermione's lap and ran out the door.
"Miss Granger! Hermione! You're awake!"
"Yes, thanks to Harry," Hermione replied. Harry tightened his arms around her as she tried to wriggle out of his lap.
"She's still terribly cold. I'm warming her up," Harry explained defiantly.
Before Madam Pomfrey could suggest a more conventional remedy, the fire in the grate flared emerald green and a young woman tumbled out onto the floor. She had bushy dark auburn hair, and a thin crease between her pale blue eyes, which seemed dazed and out of focus as she looked around the room.
In the next moment the green flames flared again and Viktor Krum stepped out. He went immediately to the woman still crouched on the floor and helped her to her feet, holding his arm firmly around her waist to steady her.
"Imogen, are you all right?" he asked.
"Yes, thank you, Viktor. I'm fine." With his free hand Viktor carefully brushed a smudge of soot from her cheek.
"Hermione!" she cried. "Are you okay? Viktor said that….he said…"
This time Harry released Hermione, who stood up just in time to receive a bone-crushing hug from her sister. Viktor's face shone with joy as he watched the happy reunion. "God be thanked," he said fervently, as he took a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped at the corner of his eye. He stuffed the handkerchief back in his pocket, drew himself up, and looked directly at Harry. "You did this Harry. You saved her. I knew it would be you." He jerked his head in a quick nod.
"I was so worried," Imogen said, still holding tightly on to her sister. "Viktor tried to keep up a brave front, but I could tell he wasn't telling me everything."
"We don't know how exactly, but Harry was able to draw out and neutralize the poison," Hermione explained.
"So this is Harry, then?" Imogen asked, a smile crossing her face for the first time.
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