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"How is he?"
"Still asleep."
Hermione was sitting at Harry's beside, working on some of her Transfiguration homework. In all honesty, Transfiguration was the furthest thing from her mind. It was almost a week after the Battle of Hogwarts and Harry still had not woken from his deep slumber. Madame Pomfrey called it "severe magical exhaustion." The way she explained it to the rest of the interested party, it was akin to the energy created when a new, magical baby was born. No one was able to explain the phenomena, not even Dumbledore.
"I brought you some food. Ron is going to be up in a couple of minutes," Neville sat down next to her as he looked at Harry's sleeping form.
"Thanks," she accepted the food gratefully and started digging in.
"Did Pomfrey say if there was any progress?"
"She said he'll wake up when he's ready to wake up," Hermione said in between mouthfuls of food.
As Hermione finished her food, Neville started hesitantly, "Hermione - we - I mean me and Ron -"
"Ron and I."
"Ron and I were talking," Neville sighed, "We'll take turns watching over Harry if you want. You haven't been out of here in a whole week."
Hermione's face turned blank, an expression Neville was used to nowadays, "I want to be here when he wakes up."
"We'll come get you," Neville insisted, "I promise the second he wakes up, we'll run off to get you. We just want to see you take a break for a moment."
"I'm completely fine, Neville. All of my work can get done here and I'm already ahead of schedule. You and Ron should get ahead while the Professors are giving us a little break."
"Hermione, the Professors aren't grading anything for a little while! We just got attacked by Voldemort -"
"You don't think I know that?"
Hermione's tone was icy, her face stormy as she interrupted Neville. Neville sighed and rubbed his jaw in frustration. Hermione kept her voice calm even though her eyes said everything otherwise.
"I'm completely fine here, Neville. You and Ron need not worry about me so much. I'm not the one that's in a semi-coma."
"We all care about Harry. We just want you to have some fresh air is all."
"Neville, just drop it. I'm staying."
"Dammit -"
"Don't you dare," Hermione's voice cracked, "Harry has no one. No one. His parents are dead. His godfather hates him because of his father and the only other living relatives he has hate magic so much that they wouldn't dare come close to Harry. So I'm staying and that's final."
Hermione had not moved during her tirade. Her hands were still placed firmly on her lap, but her posture was defensive, ready to lash out against anyone that dare try to breach her protective circle. Neville looked at her evenly, different emotions flickering through his face. After a moment, he stood up with his face guarded.
"The offer still stands. Come and get us if Harry wakes. Dumbledore wants to meet me, but Ron and I will come back here afterwards if you want."
Hermione did not respond and looked down at her parchment to refocus on her Transfiguration homework. Neville gave her an indiscernible look as he left the Hospital Wing. After he left, Hermione exhaled deeply, her body sagging as if a pressure was lifted off her shoulders. Neville could not understand the situation. Though he had faced Voldemort multiple times, nothing compared to watching Lily's death. To witness everything first hand only served to burn the visuals into Hermione's mind.
Hermione looked at Harry's face. He looked almost peaceful if it were not for the fact that he had fallen into some sort of a magical coma. Pomfrey had no exact time table as to when he would awake but assured everyone that he would not stay comatose forever. It was just a matter of his body recouping the magical energy he expelled during his fight with Voldemort. Hermione shuddered as she remembered the sheer, raw force that poured off of Harry as he let loose. She had never felt anything like it.
"Granger," Moody growled as he hobbled into the ward.
"Mr. Moody. Hello, sir," Hermione closed her textbook and stood up to properly greet the General, "Forgive me if I'm being rude, but what are you doing here, sir?"
"Please, Granger, none of the pleasantries. We spent enough time over the summer together to bypass this whole 'sir' business."
"I apologize -"
"Don't apologize either! I hate apologies."
Hermione simply shut her trap. Moody had a way of shutting people up; even the loquacious Hermione Granger. Moody murmured something as he ran his wand over Harry's body. The wand glowed brightly for a moment as it passed over him. Once Moody was apparently finished conducting his presumed test, Hermione hesitantly asked him what exactly was that spell.
"Mr. Moody, what was that?"
"Just a testing charm, missy, nothing to worry about it. We do it to all the new recruits just to make sure they don't got any Dark Magic on 'em," Moody said as he wrinkled his nose.
"New recruits?" Hermione probed.
"No need to worry. We're not taking him away. Just a matter of simple curiosity on my part. After all, I did witness the latter end of the display he put up in front of Voldemort," Moody explained.
"Do you know exactly what that was? I mean - what Harry did? I've never seen any magic like that," Hermione had to ask, her curiosity always getting the better of her.
"Aye - you're right about never seeing anything like that. Once upon a time - back in Voldemort's old days - he was able to conjure up fierce bouts of magic like that. It may surprise you to know that he's a bit weaker now."
"Weaker? I would have thought Voldemort would have gone stronger through all the knowledge he gained. Sort of like Dumbledore."
"In theory, you are correct, Granger. But even Wizards have a decaying lifespan. They say we reach our peak age in our eighties. Voldemort's nearing just about that age but his setbacks have cost him."
"Setbacks? You mean what Neville did to him when he was a baby?" Hermione curiously asked.
"That's one of 'em."
"One?"
Moody fixed both of his eyes on her, a slightly unnerving picture since his magical eye never seemed to focus on one area. In a voice much quieter than he was speaking at previously, Moody started to speak.
"Some magic is unspeakable, even to an old conk like me. Suffice to say that Voldemort pushed boundaries - inhumane boundaries. But everything comes at a price - take that lesson to the grave, missy."
Moody spoke no more but instead continued to look at Harry curiously. Hermione was pondering over his words in the meanwhile. What exactly did Moody mean? She knew that Voldemort was a prodigy at his age, but what did Moody mean by 'pushing boundaries.' Had Voldemort found a way to make himself stronger until Neville somehow weakened him on that fateful night?
Hermione was tempted to voice her thoughts aloud to Moody but did not know whether the ex-Auror and current General could possibly answer the question. He did not seem receptive to a response when he told her of Voldemort's supposed boundaries. His magical eye was finally moving in wide circles again as he turned to address her.
"Would ya consider yourself a good friend of Potter?"
Hermione paused, considering the question, "Yes."
At Hermione's response, Moody drew a leaf of parchments from the inside coat of his jacket. Licking one of his fingers to help separate the leaflets, he procured one of them and handed it to Hermione. Hermione took it curiously and started reading from the very top. It took her but a fraction of a second to realize that she was reading the Will of Lily Potter.
"James forgot to draw one up, I suppose. Either that or they just agreed to Lily's will. The Goblins were having a mess trying to sort out the Potter foundation. Seemed as if someone had been tampering with the vaults all the while. Anyways, I've been ordered to distribute these. I know the Weasley girl is a good friend of his but she's off on top secret orders," Moody grabbed another set of papers and laid it down next to Hermione.
"Top secret orders?" Hermione asked distractedly, reading through the Will.
"Aye. She fought tooth and nail to come back to Hogwarts and lead the charge, but she's too valuable up front to have a leave of absence."
"She's doing well then?"
"Very well."
"Glad to hear it."
Hermione did care for Ginny; she really did. Unfortunately, she was mightily distracted by Lily Potter's will. She obviously left most of the fortunes to Harry. There were slight deductions for Sirius and Remus as well. Near the bottom was a scrawl that resembled James' signature, but it looked incredibly dated. It was as if James had signed off on the Will first and then Lily filled in the blanks. For some reason, the discrepancy was bothering her. Before she could further investigate, she realized that Moody was calling for her.
"Granger. Are you paying attention?'
"No - oh - I'm sorry, Mr. Moody!"
"Moody. No more misters."
"Moody."
"Yes. As I was saying, show that to Potter when he wakes up. His blood relatives are Muggles which would have left Black to handle his proceedings - but not even death can heal everything," Moody looked uncomfortable as he shifted the topic to Harry's godfather.
"You mean to tell me that Sirius isn't going to assume the responsibility of Harry's guardian?" Hermione asked, a bit shocked.
"Technically speaking, Sirius is Potter's guardian. James and Lily never removed him as his godfather. I just assumed it would be better for you to deliver the news when Potter wakes up rather than for Sirius to tell him. Longbottom tells me that Potter didn't even know about Sirius until recently."
"Sirius and James didn't get along very well…" Hermione trailed off as she remembered some of the more awkward confrontations the pair had over the summer at Grimmauld's.
"Exactly the reason I chose you, Granger. I trust you know how to explain the Will to Potter when he wakes up. They say you're a bit smart," Moody looked like he winked at Hermione, but the girl could not tell if it was a wink or just a tick of his eye.
"I'll do it."
"Excellent. One more thing," Moody reached into his jacket, feeling around his multitude of pockets for some object. Finally finding said object, Moody pulled it out of his jacket and held it out for Hermione to see.
At the end of a silver chain hung a small and smooth pebble. The pebble was not formed in any particular shaping or glossing. For all intensive purposes, it looked to just be a regular pebble. Even Moody was eyeing it strangely as he handed it to Hermione.
"There were specific instructions to deliver this to Potter once the Will is executed. It's from Lily and James and they wished for Potter to wear it when he could. You have any explanations for that?" Moody was also curious as to the significance of the pebble.
"Not particularly," Hermione rolled the pebble in her hands, trying to find anything to ratify it's worth.
Moody humped as he gathered the rest of his belongings. Moody saluted her casually as he left the ward, the heavy thud of his wooden stump echoing for quite a while until he was out of earshot. Hermione continued to roll the pebble over in her fingers. She would have to ask Harry when he awoke what the significance of the pebble was.
Unclasping the silver chain, she leaned over Harry and scooted the chain under his neck. Reversing the chain so that she could clasp it easily within view, she completed the chain and turned it once again so the pebble was lying directly on his chest. At this proximity, Hermione could feel the soft tickle of his breath against her cheek. She looked down at him and examined him from close distance. The lack of movement behind his eyelids indicated that his eyeballs were completely still, a trait associated with deep comas.
She leaned down and kissed each of his eyelids. Pulling back, she patted his hand gently and spoke, "Stay for as long as you want, Harry. I'll be hear when you get back."
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Harry did not wake up the next day. Or the day after. On the third day, Hermione was sitting in her usual spot to Harry's right, translating some Ancient Runes. Even for Hermione, the distraction of homework was not enough to drive the over looming presence of the War out of her mind. Fudge had taken the Battle of Hogwarts as an opportunity to drum up the press and push for more drafts. Terry Boot and two other Seventh Years were called up the day before.
Strangely enough, Voldemort's forces did not intensify after the Battle. Presumably the Battle had taken a strong toll on Voldemort's forces. Around twenty Death Eaters were either captured or declared dead on site in the aftermath of the Battle. Unfortunately for Hermione, Bates was not among them. The despicable man had somehow escaped despite his missing leg.
Neville and Ron dropped by later in the afternoon with a couple of snacks for Hermione. Either Ron did not notice or did not acknowledge the coolness between Hermione and Neville as he prattled on about the injustices of Fudge.
"It's a good thing you're you, Neville. You'll never get snatched up by Fudge's death claws," Ron said through a bite of biscuits.
"Well, he doesn't particularly fancy me so it's not out of the realm of possibility."
"Puh-lease. The press would have a field day if you were chosen, you are the Chosen One after all."
Neville tensed as Ron let slip the little title. Hermione caught the tiny movement and swiveled her head over to Neville. Neville shifted uncomfortably and did not meet her eye. Hermione could tell he was hiding something from her and the easiest way to get Neville's secrets was always through Ron.
"Why do you say the Chosen One?" Hermione asked casually, not lifting her eyes so that Ron would not catch the drift.
Before Neville could stop him, Ron spoke, "Well, the prophecy of course. Neville did tell you didn't he?"
Hermione gripped her book tighter. Deep inside her, she supposed that Neville's omission was deserved to some degree. She was slightly neglecting on her duties as a friend to both Neville and Ron after a trying time. But who was she to play caretaker of them forever? At this point in time, Hermione judged Harry's needs to be greater than Neville and Ron's. Still, it did not stop the hurt of betrayal from creeping under her skin.
"What do you think of all of it? It's pretty heavy stuff," Ron commented.
"Wouldn't know. I don't know the prophecy."
"What do you mean you don't know it? Didn't Neville - oh," Ron realized his error at this point as Neville continually glared at him.
"Don't look at me like that!" Ron put his hands in front of him as a sign of innocence, "You told me you were going to tell her!"
"Well, I obviously didn't," Neville hissed back.
"Oh, I don't mind. Leave me out of the loop. See if I care," Hermione said bitterly.
"Don't play the wounded person in this Hermione. You don't even know the prophecy," Neville replied in an annoyed tone.
"I conveniently don't know because someone conveniently didn't tell me!" Hermione's voice was starting to rise, a long week of frustration threatening to burst from within her.
"Now guys, let's calm down a bit -"
"Shut up, Ron!"
Neville and Hermione were standing toe to toe as they started to really get into the argument.
"What did you expect, Hermione? You're cooped up here every single day. Harry isn't going to get any better if you're sitting there with him."
"And what if I want to be here? What if I want to stay with him until he wakes up? Did that ever occur to you, Chosen One?" she mocked his nickname.
"You want to know why I am the Chosen One?"
"Oh, please. Do tell."
"Because the prophecy says either I have to kill him or he has to kill me," Neville hissed the right part right at her, enunciating every word so she could hear it clearly.
Hermione took a step back, clearly not expecting this revelation. Different emotions battled within her. Her reluctance to lose the argument ebbed away and was replaced by shock. Following the shock was a deep sorrow for Neville. As the sorrow settled, she finally reached the analytical and sympathetically phase of her mind.
"Neville - I didn't know - I'm sorry," Hermione choked out, "Is that what Dumbledore had to tell you the other day?"
"Yes," Neville muttered, losing his steam.
"Why didn't you tell me?" she pleaded.
"You had enough on your plate without needing to worry about that as well," Neville confessed.
"Neville," she placed a hand on his shoulder, forcing him to meet her gaze, "Just because I'm here doesn't mean I've left you guys. It'll always be the three of us."
Neville nodded, his eyes lowering to his feet at her admission. Even he seemed to feel a bit guilty for pressuring her to leave. Ron looked on, his mouth agape as he was still reeling at the fact that Neville lied to him.
"I leave for one second and all hell breaks loose around here."
The voice came from near the entrance of the room. Three heads snapped around to find Ginny Weasley clad in the standard green and beige of the Minister's Army. She had her hands on her hips in a combative stance but the slight smile on her face gave her away.
"Ginny!"
They all yelled and rushed towards the girl, hugging her in one big mob. There was much laughter for a moment as the tense moment was disrupted by the arrival of their close friend. She happily hugged them back, laughing as she was reunited with her friends.
"I feel like we're at a reunion," Ginny nabbed away the fake tears, "But he always has to ruin the party."
Ginny's smile fell as she approached Harry's beside and looked down at her friend. She poked his shoulder and shook her head sadly.
"Damn. I wish he was faking it."
"He's not," Hermione softly replied as she came up from behind the girl and wrapped her arms around her.
"He'll be alright though, right?" there was only a slight waver in her voice as she held Hermione's encircled arms.
"What are you doing here, Gin? Mad-Eye said that you were on top secret stuff," Ron asked his sister.
"I am on top secret stuff; but my unit was dropping by the area and I found a way to spare some time and visit you dramatic lot," she explained.
"Moody says you've flown up the ranks," Hermione remembered from her conversation with the ex-Auror.
"That's what happens when you take down a dragon by yourself."
"You took down a dragon by yourself?" Ron and Neville simultaneously asked in awe.
"It was an accident mostly," Ginny visibly cringed, "We had a dragon attack near our sector. We don't really expect dragons most of the time; it's hard to hide them from the Muggles. But anyways, the dragon shows up and we're all caught out of sorts. They never let me do the fighting so it's the first time I've actually been in action. I aimed my Blasting curse at one of it's legs, not that it would actually do anything to it. I ended up tripping over my own feet and my Blasting curse went way up in the air. It ended up hitting a spike column that fell and killed the Dragon. I played it off well enough."
The Trio laughed at Ginny's story with Ron clapping her on the back.
"Oi, it's not that funny! I could have died!" Ginny insisted.
"We've all had a bit of that around here," Ron joked darkly.
"Yes we have."
Harry was awake.
There was an awkward pause in the conversation as Ron turned red enough to challenge a tomato for its position on the food pyramid. Hermione broke the awkwardness by rushing to Harry's bedside and grasping his hand tightly.
"Madame Pomfrey! Harry's awake! You're awake - you're back!"
"I am," Harry's voice was hoarse from misuse.
As Madame Pomfrey rushed over and started conducting her tests, Hermione kept speaking to him, rapidly firing on numerous points.
"I'm so glad you're back, Harry. We're all glad you're back; look, even Ginny's stopped by for a visit. You've been a sleep for over a week, but Madame Pomfrey said you'd be alright so I didn't need to worry. How are you? How are you feeling? Do you want some food?"
"Hermione. My parents."
Hermione's voice failed her, her mouth hanging soundlessly. She did not expect Harry to breach the topic so soon, so quickly after he had just woken up. She prepared an entire speech to console Harry; she even made highlight points to emphasize certain areas such as keeping your friends close and not pushing people away. Unfortunately, even her genius mind was drawing a blank; the shock of his sudden interrogation was too much for her.
Apparently, words had failed everyone else as well. Only Madame Pomfrey kept working through the silence. She was old enough to have seen loved ones die; it came with her profession. Harry sighed as he realized the implications of the silence. His green eyes were dull and his face expressionless as he lay still for Pomfrey's examinations.
"For a moment, I thought it was all a dream."
His words broke Hermione's heart. A long week of frustration and endless days waiting for Harry to wake caught up with her as tears seeped earnestly out of her eyes. She turned and brushed them away, wishing that she did not have to compound Harry's sadness with her own weakness. After all, she did not lose anyone in this Battle. Though she had gotten to know James and Lily better, they were not her parents. Hermione still had her parents.
"No need to cry. I'm fine."
Harry looked fine to the naked eye. There were no tears nor were there any outbursts of sadness or anger. He looked complacent as Pomfrey conducted more tests on him. His eyes did not reveal anything but maybe that was the problem. If one likened a person's eyes as the windows to their souls, then Harry's shutters were completely closed. Not an ounce of emotion flashed across his face. Hermione placed her hand over his but felt no reaction. Despite his emotional placidness, Hermione kept a tight grip on his hand nonetheless.
"You seem to be okay, Mr. Potter," Madame Pomfrey spoke up as everyone was at a lost for words, "You're a little weak and need bed rest while I give you some Strengthening Potions, but you'll be able to leave tomorrow."
"Thank you, Madame Pomfrey."
As the mediwizard took her leave, the quartet took their turns sharing troubled looks involving the strangely calm Harry Potter. It was not as if they expected him to fall into some sort of egregious crying mutiny, but the lack of emotion was unsettling to say the least. Hermione kept a firm grip on Harry's hand as if letting go would cause him to drift off into nothingness. Though he did not respond, Harry did not pull away his hand either.
"Is everyone else okay?"
It would be like Harry to think of everyone else despite the awful trauma he had to endure. Hermione thought that perhaps Harry was simply deflecting his worries by focusing on other people but answered the question regardless. It was important to keep an open dialogue lest Harry completely shutdown ala Malfoy.
"Everyone got out okay enough. Nott's going to have some nasty scarring on his back but he'll be alright. A couple of other people took some nasty bumps during the chaos but nothing severe. The Aurors seemed to have handled everything okay. The only thing that's worrying is that Malfoy's gone."
"Malfoy's gone?" Harry droned, a slight touch of curiosity inflected in his voice.
"No one could find him after the Battle. Same with Bates," Hermione hesitantly added the last part.
"I see."
The quartet exchanged glances again at Harry's casual dismissal of the situation. Harry was staring straight at the ceiling, his hand still in Hermione's as his face remained a picturesque vision of stoniness. An artist could not have asked for a better still frame.
"Hullo, Ginny. Nice to see you here. How are you?" Harry mechanically stated each sentence.
"I'm here you big prat," Ginny touched him lightly on the shoulder, "I only wish I could have been here to help your scrawny ass."
"You would have been a great help."
Harry's voice did not intend to inflict great guilt upon Ginny, but the girl felt it nonetheless. It was not as if she were standing by on the sidelines as she also was fighting a war on her front, but the helplessness of knowing that her friends were caged in Hogwarts stung at her every day the siege took place. She begged the lead in her unit to let her have a couple hours to visit her friends. Due to extenuating circumstances, she was allowed such a peace at this time.
"I heard you did just great yourself, Harry," Ginny softly complimented him.
"I suppose."
"We - um - there's a lot of stuff for you here, Harry. Mostly chocolates; everyone seems to think that makes everything better," Ron started sorting through the various gifts Harry's housemates had sent or dropped off at the Hospital Wing in an attempt to break the rather sullen mood of the conversation.
"Oh, why thank you. I'm not hungry right now though."
Ron dropped some Chocolate Frogs back into the basket as Harry voiced his dismissal. Neville struggled to find the words to console Harry. Though they shared a common bond in that they were both orphans, Neville feared that anything he might say would unbalance Harry. Thus, Neville stayed quiet and settled for giving Harry sympathetic looks.
"Madame Pomfrey? Can we take Harry outside for a bit? Just to get some fresh air?" Ginny had an idea to at least break up the overbearing mood.
"He'll have to go in a wheelchair. But yes, you can bring him out as long as he's back in an hour."
"Is that okay with you, Harry?" Ginny asked.
"I'm sure that would be lovely."
They helped pile Harry onto the conjured wheelchair as his legs were still weak from the exhausting of his magical core. After some slight fussing by Hermione, they were off to navigate the corridors of Hogwarts. The wheelchair seemed to have been charmed to levitate over steps or stairs which allowed the group to wander anywhere they wanted. Along the way, they met many of the other students of Hogwarts. Though Hermione, Neville, and Ron were already used to the congratulations, Harry was new to the process as several students congratulated him for his part in the Battle and Siege of Hogwarts.
"Potter. I'm sorry for what happened to your parents. I just wanted to let you know that should you ever need us, the Slytherin House will not let you down. Not after what we witnessed the Dark Lo - Voldemort do," Nott said as they ran into him near the boundaries of the Great Hall.
Harry nodded his thanks, his voice still a bit rusty. They continued outside until they settled underneath a comfortable tree, watching the sunset across the lake. The red and gold mixed in with the water to cast a comfortable light among them. Harry was situated underneath the tree in his wheelchair with Hermione sitting in front of him by his feet. Ginny was behind them leaning against the tree while Neville and Ron sat off to the side. They exchanged idle chit chat, mostly involving the several Death Eaters that were captured at the Battle of Hogwarts.
"I reckon it'll make your job easier, Ginny," Neville addressed the girl.
"Hopefully, it will. I told Harry that the Death Eaters don't do much of the fighting underground. They send werewolves and other creatures to do their bidding. We have noticed a decrease in some sectors since the Battle but they're still giving us a hard time. Even though they lost the Battle here, they still seem invigorated," Ginny explained.
"It's because of that bloody sword," Ron complained, "I don't know why the bugger wanted it so much."
Hermione stayed silent, careful not to broach any topics that would get too close to the death of Harry's parents. The time for confrontation would eventually ease it's way into Harry's path to recovery. She read up on several books on the several steps of depression and grief and knew that no matter what, she needed to maintain an open dialogue with Harry and not be completely shut off in any way. Harry's lack of close companions besides Ginny and family besides the wretched Muggles and Sirius left Hermione with the task of completing his recovery.
"Either way. Big blow to Voldemort," Ginny tossed an errant leaf into the air.
"So no word on Bates?" Harry suddenly interjected.
"No," Neville responded, "The bastard got away."
"I'd kill him if I got the chance. Especially for taking you, Hermione," Ron defended her honor.
"That's nice of you, Ron, but I hope you wouldn't be foolish enough to try to take him on by yourself," Hermione admonished him.
"He isn't that big. Toss our wands away and I bet I could take him," Ron kissed both of his biceps.
"I'm pretty sure you couldn't take me on, much less Bates," Ginny sarcastically responded.
Harry snorted which caused Neville to chuckle which caused Ron to chuckle which eventually led into a widespread laughter amongst the group. Even Hermione joined in on the fun as the addictive laughter spread like wildfire. Leaning back on Harry's leg, Hermione looked up and hoped to see some semblance of happiness on Harry's face. But even though Harry was laughing, his eyes were still blank. This type of callousness worried Hermione.
After a few more minutes, Ginny had to bid farewell to her friends. She took time to give Harry a hug and inform all of them that they could always write her and she would eventually find the time to write back to them. After Hermione handed Ginny the other half of the two-way mirror, the group watched her disappear the winding pathway to the gates of Hogwarts. Sensing it was time to return to Madame Pomfrey, the Trio plus Harry began the path back to Hogwarts.
As they passed the Second floor of Hogwarts, Harry suddenly laid a hand on Hermione's forearm. She was pushing the wheelchair along when she felt his pressure and looked at him questioningly. He did not look back but kept his eyes fixed on a certain spot in the hallway. It occurred to Hermione that they accidentally returned to the site of Lily's death. Hermione tensed as she realized that Harry recognized this particular passageway. Neville and Ron noticed that the other pair stopped and looked at them quizzically.
"Go on ahead, we'll meet you in the Hospital Wing in a second," Hermione assured them.
Ron and Neville looked at each other and shrugged but continued on their way. As they disappeared around the bend, Hermione walked so she was in front of Harry and bent over slightly so she could meet his eyes.
"Harry, I know this must be incredibly hard for you. I'm not going to patronize you and tell you that I understand what you're feeling or that I even empathize with you. No amount of words could possibly describe what you must feel. I just want you to know that no matter what happens. No matter what - I won't leave your side. I owe you a debt, Harry, for saving my life, but I'm not staying with you because of that debt. I'm staying with you because I want to and because I want to help you in any way possible."
Hermione finally delivered the speech she wanted to give him since he awoke. It was not perfect or exactly as how she wrote it, but she hoped it was enough to portray the lengths to which she would go for him. Harry met her eyes for the first time without looking as if he were one of those advanced Muggle robots. It was not completely devoid of emotions either as Hermione detected a flicker of sadness in his expression. Reaching up to cup her cheek softly, he simply whispered to her.
"Thank you."
Hermione leaned into his touch and smiled at him, the tears once again threatening to overflow her. Harry casually brushed a tear off of her cheek as Hermione recognized the same complacency residing in his expression once again. As turned off as she was by Harry's reticence to fall into this particular mask, she understood the need to bottle his emotions. She would be there when he needed to keep it to himself and she would also be there when he needed to let loose his grief.
"Can you just give me some time alone?" Harry croaked.
Hermione nodded, "I'll be right around the corner when you need me."
Hermione walked away and left him to muse on his own thought. She would come back for him in a couple of minutes, fearful that the locale would rear painful memories. As soon as she was gone,
Harry slowly turned his wheelchair so that he entered the room where he and Malfoy squared off with Bates. His eyes glossed over the room as a flash of memories echoed in his skull. Still keeping his calm visage, Harry stretched out his hand so that his open palm was pointing towards a chair. The chair suddenly levitated into the air, a clear meter off the ground. Harry watched it curiously, his head cocked as he examined the floating object.
Harry suddenly closed his palm, turning his hand into a fist. At that same moment, the chair exploded, the tiny splinters flying around the classroom. Harry dropped his hand, his expression never changing all the while. Satisfied, he wheeled himself out of the classroom and back to Hermione's worrying expressions.