Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by JKRowling. The title, 'Your Light Sets Me Free', is a line from Meat Loaf's Blind as a Bat.
In the wards of St Mungo's, reserved for casualties of the war that had ended two years ago, a girl lay. She had a room to herself, and around her table were flowers, an Order of Merlin, First Class and Hogwarts: A History. Visiting time was coming to an end, and the black-haired boy who clutched her hand knew it full well. He lifted his gaze to the red-head opposite him.
"Nearly time, Ron," he said, anguish in his bright green eyes, framed by black glasses still held together by Sellotape. The red-head nodded, wiping a hand over his tired eyes.
"Oh Hermione," he said softly, "why won't you wake up for us? It's been two years." He gave a weak, forced chuckle. "Think of all the work you could be doing."
"All the reading," Harry grinned, his smile as forced as Ron's laugh. "There's a world full of house-elves out there that need to be freed."
"A library full of books you haven't read."
"A new generation of people for you to lecture." Sad, grief-filled laughs filled the small room, cutting off abruptly as a kindly witch opened the door.
"I'm sorry, Mr Potter," she said apologetically, "Mr Weasley. It's time for you to leave." Around the witch's legs two children peeped, one with flaming red hair and bright green eyes, the other with dishwater-blonde hair and dreamy blue eyes. Harry held out his arms for the red-haired girl, and Ron swung the dishwater-blonde into his arms.
"Come on," he said to her as she rested her head against his shoulder. "Aunty Hermione is still sleeping."
"And you need to be, too," reprimanded Harry as he left the room. In the doorway they looked back. Hermione seemed so pale on the bed, growing thinner by the day despite the work of St Mungo's finest. Her brown hair was lank, fanned out on the pillow around, and her eyes were closed. They didn't even flicker – Ron sighed.
"I wish she would just move."
"Me too, mate." Harry felt tears come to his eyes. "Me too."
The witch entered to check Hermione's vital signs, to check for any change, in the hopes she would awaken from her coma. Harry, Ron and their children hung in the doorway, watching with optimism.
"No change," the witch sighed. The three left, tears in Harry and Ron's eyes, sadness and fatigue lingering around the witch. The door closed silently, and still Hermione didn't move, as she hadn't every time visiting had ended for the past two years.
Dark.
That was what she saw when, with a jolt, as if she'd had a dream about falling and woken with a start, she sat bolt upright in bed. Darkness. Her eyes were open, she reached up to touch her eyelids and she could feel them wide, blinking, eyelashes tickling her fingertips. Panic rose within her.
"Where am I?" she screamed. "Where am I?!" There were footsteps, stampeding towards her, and she heard a door fling open and hit the wall, but still there was no light. Voices gabbled at her, she could hear individual words but nothing that made sense, and she hated it when things didn't make sense. Arms wrapped around her, and more, and she felt like she was being suffocated.
"Where am I?" she whispered, and then she was relieved because it was Harry who answered.
"You're in St Mungo's, Hermione. You've been here for ages."
"The war? Is it over?" Ron answered, and the feeling of claustrophobia left her, because now she knew who was hugging her. She lifted her arms clumsily and tried to find them, eventually settling her hands on their backs.
"Yes," he said and he laughed. "It's over, Hermione." She breathed a sigh of relief.
"Turn the lights on, you silly, so I can see you properly," she grinned. An awkward silence followed her words, and in the moments that followed she could hear the room's occupants breathing.
"Well?" she demanded teasingly. "Aren't you going to let me see you now?" Another weight was on the bed, and then a small voice broke the silence by saying "Aunty Hermione?", pronouncing it akin to how Viktor had said it in her fourth year.
"Aunty?" she asked the darkness. Harry let go of her, and took her hand instead.
"Hermione, you've been unconscious for more than two years," he said slowly. "This is Lily Hermione, my daughter." She smiled at the name.
"And this," added Ron as another weight pulled down the bed, "is my daughter, Molly Jane."
"Daughters…?" Hermione whispered wonderingly. "Two years?"
"Two years," confirmed Harry, squeezing her hand. She smiled as brightly as she could, though she could feel her face heating up with embarrassment and shock.
"All the more reason for you to turn the lights on," she grinned, "so that I can see your beautiful children." Once more an awkward silence descended, and Ron took her other hand, squeezing it tightly.
"Hermione," he said hesitantly, taking a deep breath before he continued. Hermione wondered why he was so slow in answering her. "The lights are on already."
"They've never been off," Ron supplied. "Hermione, you're looking really pale." Hermione lifted her hands to her face, touching her cheeks. They were warm, she noted.
"So…" she asked slowly, hysteria rising within her voice, "if the lights are on, why can't I see?"
"I don't know." Harry gave a sigh and she realised he was probably running his hand through his hair in frustration. "I don't know at all, Hermione."
"We'll let the nurse check you over," Ron said. "Molly's nearly falling asleep, I'd better get her back to Luna."
"Luna?" Hermione said wonderingly. "You married Luna?" She was beginning to realise just how much she had missed. Two years. There were two years of her life that she would never be getting back.
"Yeah," Ron said sheepishly. "Well. We haven't got married yet."
"Neither have me and Ginny," Harry said. Hermione shook her head.
"Ginny and I," she corrected. Harry laughed, and then ruffled her hair – at least, she thought it was him. "Why?"
"We wanted you at the wedding," Ron said quietly. Harry was silent before answering "Oh sorry, Hermione – I was nodding." More footsteps sounded, and then a female voice spoke, crisply, "May we check her over, gentlemen?"
"Oh, right." The two weights were lifted off the bed, and two kisses were dropped onto her head. "We'll be back later, Hermione. We'll bring Ginny and Luna, they'll love to see you."
"Let's just hope I can see them," she joked weakly. Matching laughs answered her, and then the room was quiet except for muttered spells. Warmth spread over her body, and she realised they were spells to investigate how she was after waking up. She lay back, and closed her eyes because there was no point in keeping them open.
Two years.
"Open your mouth," instructed the crisp voice of the nurse. Hermione opened obediently and a liquid splashed into it – tasting of cinnamon and smelling of lavender. Dreamless sleep, she noted with mild interest, and then she fell asleep.
When she awoke this time, it was to voices. There was no visible change in her – a tiny jolt, from asleep to awake. She kept her eyes shut and listened.
"I'm sorry, Mister Potter," a male voice was saying. "There's nothing we can do. We didn't detect this damage until it was far too late for us to save her optic nerves."
"Why didn't you notice?" Harry's voice, and he was angry. "Calm down, Harry." Ginny's voice, low and soothing.
"Our concentration was on her brain, Harry." Another voice, vaguely familiar but she couldn't place it. "We wanted to know why she wouldn't wake. There didn't seem to be any reason for it – we never could have connected it to neurological damage. The spells she was hit with usually cause brain damage; it must have been modified and we didn't notice."
"Neurological?" Ron. "Does this mean her other nerves have been affected?"
"There's no way of telling yet, until she's able to undergo more physical tests to investigate."
"So she might be suffering, but you don't know?" Ron again, heavily sarcastic. "And this is the best place for healing in the world!"
"Ron, you need to calm down." A softer voice. Luna, she recognised. "It can't be helped. Mistakes have been made during this war by everyone."
"We just ought to be glad she's alive and awake." Ginny again, and then a sigh.
"You're right." Harry again, sounding sad and desperate. "I just… Merlin, it feels like my fault. She was protecting me, helping me…"
"Hermione would hex you into next week for saying that," Ginny said, and Hermione could almost picture her smiling.
"I would," she said loudly, knowing that all attention was drawn to her now. "In fact, Ginny, if you put my wand into my hand and point it at him I'll do it now." Silence, and then the room exploded into laughter and she received a hug as she sat up.
"I'm glad you're awake," Ginny whispered into her ear. Hermione lifted her arms and found Ginny by patting the air until she patted Ginny's sides. She hugged her back.
"Me too," she said sincerely. "More so than you, I'll bet." Ginny laughed and let her go, and slimmer arms wrapped around her. Luna.
"Welcome back," said Luna's dreamy voice, still as detached from reality as always. Hermione swung her arms from Ginny until she bumped them into Luna, and hugged her back as best she could.
"Thank you," she said happily. "Now, is someone going to tell me what sort of neurological damage we're talking about?"
"How much did you hear?" asked Harry. Hermione shrugged.
"Pretend I didn't hear anything," she suggested. Silence, then a slap.
"She can't see you nodding, you prat," Ron commented. Harry groaned.
"That hurt, you prat," he answered teasingly. "Sorry, Hermione – this is taking some getting used to."
"Funnily enough, I had noticed that much," she said sarcastically, grinning. She could almost picture Harry's sheepish smile.
"Sorry," he said again. "From what we can gather from Healer Smith-"
"Zacharias?" she asked, recalling the familiar tone in the voice.
"Yeah, that git," Harry laughed. "He's been taking care of you. He said there's some neurological damage, your optic nerves have been destroyed." Harry was trying to sound matter-of-fact, and it helped. "He's not sure of the extent of the nerve damage, but now you're awake you can help him out. Probably show him a few things, too." Hermione grinned.
"What tests do you want to do?" she asked the air. Zacharias answered promptly.
"Just some basic ones – spell casting, treadmill, et cetera," he said quickly. "As soon as you're ready, we can get a better analysis of how you are, how you're coping, and we can get you ready for release."
Hermione nodded, turning her head in the direction of his voice. She took a deep breath – I want to go home and be better – and readied herself.
"Let's do them now."
"Are you sure?" Ron asked with concern. "I mean you've only been awake for about a day."
"And I've been sleeping for two years," she retorted, poking her tongue out and eliciting laughter from the others. "I'll be alright, Ron. You and Harry had better take your partners home, though."
"Why?" asked Harry. Hermione smiled warmly.
"You've got weddings to arrange," she commented. A loud squeal came from Ginny, and arms were thrown around her neck, squeezing her tightly.
"That's right!" she squealed again. "Harry, come on! Hermione doesn't need you to hold her hand, but I need you to come and help me organise!"
"Oh God." Harry said this with a laugh. "What have you done, Hermione?"
"Go on," she urged with a smile, feeling for the edge of the bed and swinging her legs over it. So far, everything else seemed fine. "Go home and get your weddings organised. I'll be fine, but you won't be if you don't go with Ginny right now."
"Too true," Ginny said with a snicker. "We'll come back in visiting hour, Hermione."
"See you then," Luna added, giving her another hug. "Goodbye," added Ron.
"Zacharias, keep us updated," Harry instructed. "Hermione, you know you can hex him if he annoys you," he added with a grin.
"Goodbye, Harry," Hermione said pointedly with a grin.
"See you later, Hermione." The room emptied – at least, she assumed it did, because the feeling of fullness went to one of emptiness – and then Zacharias spoke.
"We'll get you back in shape in no time," he promised. "Everything we can do, we will do."
"Thank you." Arms held hers, as if steadying her, and she tried to stand up. At first she staggered, her legs unused to the weight, but soon she was standing up, supported by those arms.
"I'm ready to go home," she said simply. "And I'll do whatever it takes."
"Very well." The arms guided her forward. "We'll have you home by the end of the week at the latest, Hermione. I promise."
"Thank you," she said again, smiling gratefully. She had two years to catch up on, and she couldn't do it whilst stuck in a bed in St Mungo's. Whatever it takes, she vowed, I will get better. I will go home.
The tests were simple, as Zacharias had promised. She had to walk, then jog, then run on a treadmill; it took a while for her to get used to it at first, since her legs were refusing to take orders from her brain, but eventually she was supporting herself, balancing, walking, running. All the while, Zacharias was making strange comments to a nurse, speaking in jargon that she didn't understand.
Then there was co-ordination. She had to show she could balance, could touch her nose, could follow simple directions, to exercise all her limbs. They still worked, though there was pain in her arms as she moved them.
"We can create a potion to make that go away," Zacharias promised. "So far, it's looking good for you." Hermione smiled. I can do this.
Then her wand was placed into her hand, and Zacharias said "Show us some magic, Hermione. Just some simple spells, don't go accioing anything or hurting yourself." She nodded.
"Lumos!" she commanded, waiting for the familiar flare of light to burst through the darkness. It never came. "Lumos!" she said again. "Lumos!"
"Hermione!" Zacharias said sharply. "It worked the first time!"
"But I can't see it," she whispered. A comforting hand was placed on her shoulder, and she whispered "Nox."
"It's okay, Hermione," he whispered back. "Your magic is working fine. Don't worry about it."
"But how can I do magic if I can't see?" she asked. Zacharias smiled.
"I don't know," he answered, honestly. "I really don't know." Hermione wanted to cry, but she wasn't even sure if she could do that any more.
"We'll figure something out," Zacharias promised, seeing how upset she was. "I promise."
Hermione only hoped they would. Even though she was now blind, things had never looked bleaker. I may as well be a Muggle, she thought as she was led back to her bed and settled down. What will happen to me now?
It seemed that all she could do was wait, and see- or rather, hear, she thought wryly – what happened next.
End of first chapter.