Wake Up to the One You Love
Hermione's eyes popped open.
The light blinded her and it took several moments for them to adjust. It was only then that she was able to take in her surroundings. She realized with a wave of horror that she was in hospital and had no clue as to how she had got there.
Hermione was lying down in one of those narrow beds with the railings, and the room carried that unmistakable smell of hospital. She struggled to remember, tried to force her mind to grasp on to something solid. She kept drawing a blank.
The door opened suddenly, catching her completely unawares. In walked Harry, munching rather loudly on a bag of crisps.
"You're awake!" he said in a pleasantly surprised voice. He smiled and plopped down on the chair that sat next to the bed. "How are you feeling?"
"Confused," Hermione answered truthfully. "How did I get here? Why am I here? How long have I been out?"
"You don't remember? Well, the Healer said I should probably expect that. It's likely you'll regain your memory in a few days at the most. But how's the rest of you feeling?" he asked, reaching into the bag and tossing some more crisps into his mouth.
"My head is pounding," she said as she slowly tried to sit up.
"Maybe you should take it easy," he said pointedly, and adjusted her pillow for her.
Hermione was becoming more bewildered by the moment. Nothing was fitting together. Why was only Harry here? And why was he so different? In fact…
"Shouldn't you be in a bed yourself?"
"You're starting to remember then?" he asked happily.
"A little," she said, though it still wasn't making sense.
The images in her mind were hazy, but they were slowly coming together. She, Ron and Harry had been fighting Death Eaters at the Riddle House. Voldemort showed up, and that's when things became even more confused. She knew at some point members of the Order showed up. The last thing she could remember seeing was a spell coming right towards her, and then everything went black.
Harry had been hurt quite badly at the time, but he showed no sign of it before. He looked very healthy and maybe just a little tired. But that wasn't all. He looked content and…older. Like he no longer had the weight of the world on his shoulders and was just an ordinary person. It was all those things combined and more that she couldn't put her finger on. She was starting to feel very unsettled.
"Well I did break a rib, but they mended that up straight away and I didn't even have to stay. You, on the other hand…"
"What?"
"What were you thinking?
"I don't know," she answered without a clue as to what he was talking about.
"You couldn't have been. No offense, but you haven't always been the most – er – athletic of people. I don't know what could have possessed you to fly my broom to the roof to try and fix it. I mean, I know you feel as if you don't do enough because Dobby and Kreacher clean and I do the repairs, but…"
Harry kept going on, oblivious to Hermione's stunned face. What was he talking about? Nothing he was saying was making sense to her and it all flew over her head. She hated the feeling of not being completely in the know.
With a fair amount of trepidation she interrupted, "How long have I been unconscious?"
"Have you been listening to a word I've been saying?" he asked with a scowl on his face.
"How long?" she asked, gritting her teeth slightly.
"Around two days, I suppose," he huffed.
"That's impossible," she muttered.
Harry shrugged. "I assure you it's not. The Healer said it's normal to feel disoriented and—"
"I don't care what the damned Healer had to say!" Hermione exclaimed, suddenly feeling angry. "And where's Ron? Or better yet, Mrs. Weasley? She'll tell me what's been going on."
Hermione was surprised at how suddenly Harry's whole demeanor changed. He looked dejected and he slumped down in the chair. His face was entirely unreadable and she had the feeling she had just crossed the line, though she was baffled as to how or why.
"What is it?" she asked tentatively.
"Exactly what is the last thing you remember?" His voice was quiet and almost strained. She told him everything she could think of and watched him slowly slip into another time and place. Harry was silent for a long time. Hermione said nothing and waited.
Finally, with some visible difficulty, he said, "That was almost two years ago, Hermione. The war is over now."
"Over," she whispered incredulously. "But how…what…?"
Harry looked at her sadly. "I'm sorry."
"For what? What could you possibly be sorry for?"
He shook his head and stood up. "I can't tell you now. I need to speak with the Healer first and let you take this all in. And I'm sorry for how I reacted. It's just that we haven't talked about it for so long. I wasn't expecting it," he said, and shrugged half-heartedly.
"But—"
"Just rest for a few moments until I get back."
Hermione sighed. "Fine."
Harry left and closed the door behind him. Not even two seconds later, however, he popped his head back in. She raised an eyebrow in question at him.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
"You will accept my apology, won't you? I feel like saying more, but I don't want to ruin the 'surprise,'" he finished sarcastically.
"What surprise?" She didn't think she could handle any more surprises for the day, and yet she somehow knew the worst was still to come.
"You're not going to like what I have to say," he said cryptically. Or perhaps it just sounded that way to her.
"Okay," she said, more confused than ever. However, she could tell it was something he needed to hear so she said it.
Hermione waited anxiously for him to return, but before she knew it she was drifting to sleep. She dreamed of the oddest things: being chased by dragons on a broom, getting lost in a maze with a crying child, and Ron. Ron absolutely haunted her dreams, and when she woke up, it was with a most sickening realization.
"Ron's dead," she said to the dark room. She must have been asleep for hours.
"Yes," said a quiet voice that she knew to be Harry. He was back in the chair again.
"How?"
There was a pause.
"How?" she repeated again, more firmly this time.
"It was Lucius Malfoy. He sent a Killing Curse at you and Ron—"
"—sacrificed himself for me," she finished for him. She didn't need him to say it because she knew it instinctively. Hermione knew it was because Ron loved her with everything he had and she loved him just as equally, if not more so. Because, during one of their long nights together, he had told her he would if it came down to it. She knew it because maybe she wouldn't be feeling quite as horrible if Ron hadn't died so she, Hermione, could live.
She felt as if her heart was being violently ripped from her chest and put through absolute hell, all while she was watching. How could life be so cruel as to take one of the best people who ever lived, and so young and suddenly at that?
"I know what you're feeling. I felt it too. He was my best mate, you know? I needed him; I didn't know how to make a life for myself or to put things together. I didn't think I would be able to go on without him," Harry said softly, taking one of her hands in his and wiping her brow with the other. It was odd to receive such open affection from him, but also extremely comforting.
"How did you?" Hermione whispered, hot tears rolling down her face.
"You needed me," Harry said simply. "You loved Ron too, in the same way that I did and more. As much as I missed him, as much as I wanted to scream and cry out at the world, I couldn't. Well, I could have, but I didn't. And eventually, we came to the point where we had to accept his death and move on."
"Are you saying that you didn't grieve because of me?" Hermione said, feeling immensely guilty.
"Don't be ridiculous," he said, waving his hand. "Of course I grieved; I just chose to handle it silently. Not to mention you were there for me just as much as I was there for you."
"Where's everyone else?" Hermione burst out suddenly. She had almost forgotten for a moment about all of her other burning questions. It hurt too much to talk about Ron anymore.
Harry sighed. "Most everyone was killed in an attack at The Burrow a few days after I defeated Voldemort by the remaining Death Eaters. They've been caught by now, of course."
"Most everyone?" she asked him, noticing how vague he was being.
Harry nodded tersely. "Bill and Fleur live in France, and as far as I know haven't been back to England since. Charlie is still in Romania. Fred runs the shop at Diagon Alley and is thinking of opening up another in Hogsmeade. We see him from time to time. Percy hasn't been found yet." He said this all matter-of-factly.
"I see," Hermione said quietly, taking it all in. It was a lot to handle and she felt drained. Mr. Weasley, Mrs. Weasley, Percy, George, Ron, Ginny…gone. All gone. She clutched Harry's hand even tighter.
"And us?" she asked tentatively.
"What about us?" he said, giving her a grim smile.
"Where do we work? Where do we live?"
"Oh, you're really going to like this," Harry said sardonically. "We're married."
"What!" Hermione exclaimed, instinctively examining her finger. It was bare. He had to have been lying! But why would he say such a thing?
"Calm down," he said. And despite the situation he was chuckling. Chuckling! It was then that she noticed a plain gold band on his finger and a matching one on the bedside table. Hers.
"Why on earth would you and I ever get married?"
"Nice to know you find me so repulsive," he said in a light and mocking tone. "Relax, it was just a marriage of convenience. You and I were constantly all over the papers."
"Why?"
"Everyone saw us as heroes," he said and shrugged. "And I suppose in a sense we were. We were barely legal and had almost single-handedly taken down one of the darkest and most evil wizards known to man."
"You must have loved that," Hermione remarked, leaning back against the pillows again.
"Yeah, well, you didn't exactly eat it up either. Anyway, we were both still trying to cope with all the changes and the last thing we needed was the press asking us about who we were dating. Don't worry, it was with the understanding we could back out at anytime."
"But we don't want to," she said, not really knowing if she was asking a question or not.
"Not really," Harry said nonchalantly. "We're pretty comfortable with our lives. I'm an Auror and you work for the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad."
"Really?" Hermione asked, surprised. That hardly sounded like anything she would ever do.
"Yes, really. You're also writing a book."
"On what?" Her eyes lit up.
"What else but spew?" Harry rolled his eyes.
"Not 'spew'!" she said indignantly. "It's the Society of—"
"Spare me," he said as he held a hand up in protest. "Let me have some peace with that while you at least have no memory. I hear enough about it at home."
Hermione would have been affronted, but didn't have the chance since the Healer walked in at that moment.
Harry left the room and the Healer asked her a few questions as he examined her. Not long after he declared her healthy and said she would be able to go home the next day. He also said that her memory should be coming back shortly.
Harry left soon after that and promised he would be back early in the morning. She didn't mind too much as she wanted to be left alone.
Hermione's heart constricted painfully whenever she thought of Ron and how she would never see him again. She reflected on the turn her life had taken and how she never in a million years could have imagined it. Harry was so different, they were married…Those two things in themselves weren't exactly horrible, but they weren't great either.
When Hermione went to bed that night, she dreamed again of Ron. She dreamed that none of this was real and that everything Harry said tonight was just some sort of cruel trick. Everyone she loved was still alive, and best of all, Ron was there to share a life with her.
And then she woke up.
Hermione's eyes popped open.
The light blinded her and it took several moments for them to adjust. It was only then that she was able to take in her surroundings. She realized with a wave of horror that she was in hospital and had no clue as to how she had got there.
Hermione was lying down in one of those narrow beds with the railings, and the room carried that unmistakable smell of hospital. She struggled to remember, tried to force her mind to grasp on to something solid. She kept drawing a blank.
Hermione also began to recognize a terrible feeling of déjà vu. She knew she had lived this already, thought these exact same thoughts before.
"You're awake," came a soft voice from the chair next to her. Hermione glanced over in anxiousness, hoping against hope that she was right.
There sat Ron. He was smiling at her warmly and with love in his eyes. She threw her arms around him and kissed him fiercely on the mouth, blatantly ignoring the pain in her head.
"We should fight wars more often," Ron mumbled when she finally let him go. He looked surprised but pleased
"I had the most terrible dream," she started, her voice scratchy.
"Shh," he said. "Save it for later. We're free now and we have all the time in the world.
Hermione gave him a watery smile. "I love you," she whispered.
"I love you too."
"Aw, you guys," came another voice, this time in the bed to her left. Harry was barely sitting up, but he had an evil grin on his face. He would never let them live this down. Hermione didn't even care enough to be embarrassed, at least not at the moment.
The door suddenly opened and in walked all the people she cared about. Even her parents followed the Weasleys in and rushed to her side. The room was practically bursting with all the people and the Healers were looking in with worried faces. She could barely make out what anyone was saying, and it made her head pound even worse. Ron was quickly whisked away to another room to be treated; apparently he had refused to leave until he was sure she was okay.
And this time, when Hermione finally drifted to sleep, it was with the secure knowledge that the ones she loved would be at her side when she woke.
Author's Note: Thanks so much to my beta, anewhope. My line was "You will accept my apology, won't you? I feel like saying more, but I don't want to ruin the surprise." Hope you enjoyed!
