Disclaimer-- I don't own JK's characters, clearly
Hermione Granger paced the floor of her flat endlessly. Ron was beginning to wonder if she wasn't wearing a rut in the thick carpeting in the process.
"We're going to find him Hermione; it's only a matter of time."
"I know," she said, wringing her hands. "But what's being done to him in the meantime?"
"It doesn't help to worry, Hermione," he said gently.
She came to an abrupt stop and stared at him. "He was kidnapped a week ago by two former Death Eaters and I'm not supposed to worry?" She fell ungracefully to the couch, her head in her hands. "For all I know he could be dead already."
"No, he's not dead, we would know if he was dead."
She nodded. "I know, I know. I'm terrified Ron, what if I never get him back?"
"Don't think about it. We'll keep looking, and we'll find him.
When she raised her eyes to his again they were overflowing with tears. "I just hope that he's still alive when we do."
Hours later Ron had fallen asleep on the couch, but Hermione couldn't rest. She sat on the window seat staring out, hoping and praying that Harry would be alright. Since the day they had met she'd known that he would most likely always be in some kind of danger, but she had never expected this. They'd been together almost four years, and one day a little over a week previous she'd come home to find the flat in shambles. Before she'd had a chance to summon anyone she'd found herself in a full body bind, watching helplessly from the floor as two of Voldemort's old followers had wrestled a beaten and bloodied Harry from the apartment even as he called out in concern for her. They had removed the bind on her just in time for her to see them apparate away. Since that day aurors and teams of civilian witches and wizards, her and Ron included, had been searching for him to no avail.
Hermione hugged her arms close around her body, feeling a chill despite the pleasantly warm air in the apartment. At this moment, her greatest fear was that they would be too late, that the teams of people would find not Harry, but his body.
"Please let him come home to me," she whispered, resting her forehead against the cool glass of the window. Slowly the cool glass soothed her to sleep
Not sure how long she'd slept she woke abruptly at the pounding that resounded through the flat. With her heart in her throat she woke Ron and they rushed to the door. When she saw Neville and Seamus with Harry between them her legs almost gave out. Weeping with gratitude she ushered them in and fell to her knees beside the couch that they settled Harry on.
"How bad is it?" Hermione asked as her hands rushed over every inch of him.
"I don't know how bad, but it isn't good," Neville said.
"He passed out cold right after we found him," Seamus added.
Hermione's head came up sharply. "And the men who had him?"
"The aurors have got them; they get what they deserve for sure."
She nodded and turned her attention back to Harry. "Get my bag Ron." As he hurried into the other room she took a deep steadying breath and tried to prepare herself for what was to come. Ron came back with the bag and she opened it quickly. "Just give me whatever I ask for." He nodded and first handed her a set of shears when she asked. With light hands she efficiently cut Harry's shirt away, trying not to look to close initially. Then she carefully lifted him to pull the shirt away and tears sprang to her eyes as she took in his ravaged torso. Only half of his body was revealed and it was riddled with sores, cuts and bruises. There were burn marks, shallow knife wounds, all of Hermione's worst fears realized. When she finally found her voice it was raw with pain. "Oh, oh baby," she keened.
"Hermione are you sure you can do this," Neville asked gently.
She nodded. "I have to." But as she worked, cleaning his wounds and healing what she could she wept silently. Ron, Neville and Seamus watched in brokenhearted silence as she worked on him. The damage was extensive and there was only so much she could do without pumping too much magic in him. He would unfortunately have to do some of the healing the muggle way, though she had fixed all of the major problems which ran to broken bones and open wounds. Emotionally and physically spent, when she had done all she could she collapsed on the floor, her head on Harry's arm and sobbed brokenly.
"What else can we do for you?" Ron asked.
"Just wait, all we can do is wait until he wakes up."
And they did wait all four of them. Hermione never budged from her position on the floor, refusing to give up the proximity to Harry. When she fell asleep the others couldn't bear to move her. In less than an hour the other three men were sleeping fitfully ranged throughout the room on various articles of furniture. While Hermione slept she dreamt of Harry's captivity, terribly vivid dreams in which her mind imagined all of the ways he had been tortured and had suffered. Sometime around five in the morning she woke up sweating and shaking when she felt someone's hand stroking over her hair. She looked up, expecting it to be Ron or Neville; instead she met clear emerald green eyes. Her breath caught in her throat and tears came again, hard and fast.
"You're okay," she whispered.
He nodded stiffly. "I'm okay."
"I'm going to wake the others."
When they were all up and moving Harry briefly recounted the tale of what had happened to him. It was fairly straightforward, two former Death Eaters, eager for revenge had carefully plotted their plan and had taken him with every intention of killing him, but not before they had a little bit of fun first. The longer they tortured him the more they enjoyed it and they decided to keep him alive a little longer. He very rarely spoke of specifics, but when he did his eyes were haunted. A group of aurors with Neville and Seamus along had found him. He'd remained conscious long enough to insist that he be taken home rather than the hospital.
When he finished his story a heavy silence fell over the room. Slowly they all began to move again and Harry insisted that everyone go home and get some decent rest. With promises of returning the next day to make sure they were both doing okay, Ron Neville and Seamus departed.
Harry shook his head against Hermione's insistence that he should probably visit St. Mungos. "All I want, all I need right now is an entire day in bed and all that time to just hold on to you."
With a sigh of acquiescence she helped him to their bedroom and they settled into the huge bed. Afraid of hurting him, she let him hold her, but she was careful to stay beside him, keeping their contact to the minimum for his comfort. Little did she know that her lack of contact hurt him even more than the weight of her body ever could have. But even though they were treading on thin ice they were both too spent to stay awake. Within minutes they had fallen into a sleep driven more by exhaustion than anything else.
They slept for hours, well into the dusk. When she finally woke Hermione stared blurry eyed at the alarm clock for a moment and then reached for Harry with a sigh. When she rolled over and found he was gone white hot panic rose to overtake her. She sat bolt upright, fearing the worst. When she saw him standing at the window she fought back the fear that had gripped her and took several deep and steadying breathes. He was safe, he was home. When she took a closer look at him the first thing she noticed was the angry bruises and cuts stark against the paleness of his skin. With a shudder the dreams from earlier in the day came back to her in a rush. Struggling to remember that the past was the past she rose from the bed and crossed the room.
Harry had heard her wake, could practically narrate the thoughts that had run through her mind in the time it took her to get up. She stopped behind him and reached out to touch him, then she pulled her hand back abruptly.
Even with his back turned he knew exactly what she'd done, and when he spoke it was with a coating of pain. "I'm not going to fall apart Hermione."
"You're body is already broken, and I can't stand the thought of causing you any more pain."
The strong muscles in his back tensed, and she recognized the anger in the set of his shoulders. "What's causing me more pain is the fact that you won't touch me. Is this how it's going to be from now on?"
She shook her head futilely. "No, I just…while you were gone I thought the worst, but now I have you back, and I can't bear the thought that I could hurt you more, that there's nothing I can do to make it better."
He whirled around angrily. "You can make it better! Touch me Hermione, let me hold you, really hold you." He spun back around to look out the window and sighed. "Don't treat me like I'm going to fall to pieces at any moment. This was a horrific experience, but what got me through it was knowing that when I finally got out I could have you in my arms again, that you'd be there. Now you're denying me that."
Hot tears poured down Hermione's cheeks as she stepped forward. "I'm so sorry Harry." With no hesitancy she wrapped her arms around him, pressing one hand to the strong beat of his heart, the other just under his ribs. When she rested her cheek against his back he felt the tears there and brought his battered hands up to cover hers. "The last thing I wanted," she told him breathlessly, "was to make it worse for you. I should have known what you needed. I'm sorry I made it worse."
He shook his head. "Don't be sorry, I understand why you would feel that way, really. But I'm here, and I'm whole, if not a little worse for the wear. I don't want what's happened to me to take away what we have together."
"It won't," she promised. "I won't treat you like an invalid any longer, I swear." She took a deep breath and the tears came faster. "I was so scared Harry, so terrified that someone would owl me and tell me they'd found you dead. It was all I could think of."
He spun around so they were face to face and pulled her tightly into his embrace. "I'm not dead, I'm here."
"When you were unconscious, I had these horrible nightmares about what was done to you, how it was done. If I had only been prepared, if I'd only had my wand out that day when I came home…"
"So that's what this is all about." He took her chin in his hand gently and raised her face so they looked each other in the eye. "Hermione what happened wasn't your fault. You had no reason to have your wand out that day, you couldn't have known any more than I could have. What happened to me isn't on your shoulders, it's on the shoulders of the two men they've got in Azkaban."
She shook her head. "I know, I do, but I can't help it…"
He brushed her tears away even as they fell, caressing her cheek lightly. "This couldn't have been prevented by anyone but a psychic or a coconspirator and you are neither. Don't let this break you Hermione and don't stop believing in yourself or what we've got, the bruises will be gone in time, and the memories from the past week will eventually fade. I'm going to be okay, and I want you to be okay too."
She nodded. "I want us to be okay, and I'm going to do everything I can to make sure we both are."
"Always the overachiever," Harry said fondly, kissing the tip of her nose.
"I love you Harry."
"I love you too."
"We're going to be okay," she said quietly, searching his eyes.
"Yeah, maybe not right away, but we will be." He bent to kiss her languidly. "We will be."
