Disclaimer: All recognizable characters, places, etc. belong to the lovely JK Rowling.

As Hermione stepped out of the emerald green flames she was immediately enveloped in a warm embrace from Mrs. Weasley. She returned it readily and smiled as the familiar sights, sounds, and smells of the Burrow took over her senses. Moving into the bustling kitchen Hermione noticed that she was the last to arrive and took her seat sandwiched between Bill and Harry, with a sleeping Teddy nestled in his arms.

"All right everyone, tuck in!" Tinkling and clanking cutlery along with many conversations filled the air and Hermione slowly started feeling like herself again. Turning slightly she took up a conversation with Bill and Fleur on the curse breaking work the husband and wife pair had been doing in Egypt. Hermione found the subject fascinating and if she hadn't spent that fateful year living in a tent hunting horcruxes, she was sure she would be a cursebreaker.

"So Hermione, how's Charlie?" A nervous hush fell across the elongated table as a few pointed glares were shot towards the speaker. "What? You all want to know, I just figured it would be better to get it out in the open now." stated Ronald Weasley, a bit of food still lingering in his mouth.

Trying not to roll her eyes Hermione sighed. "Well, I was planning on bringing this up later, but as Ron so eloquently put it, you all are want to know. And you all have a right to." She paused unsure how to proceed. Hermione wasn't ready to inform the family of what might not even work. She decided to go with an abridged version of the truth. Not quite a lie, but not quite the truth. But, she reasoned, sometimes it was better to lie. At least that's what she kept telling herself.

"As I told you last Sunday, the treatment that effectively healed Harry was not completely successful on Charlie and that was a result of the sheer amount of poison in his system. Currently, the ratio of blood to venom is seventy-five to twenty-five which is much, much better. Unfortunately, Madam Pomfrey told me that I could only administer one dose of the cure every two months because the potion might react adversely and start removing his blood from the poison, not the other way round.

"I know it's a lot to take in, but in a few weeks I'll give him the second round and he should be okay." Stepping out of healer mode Hermione looked around at her second family and frowned. She hated not being able to do more to help.

Ron opened his mouth to speak but was silenced by a fierce look from Ginny. Hermione felt relieved, she wasn't sure she could handle his berating attitude today. She mouthed Ginny "thank you" across Harry. The rest of Sunday brunch passed in relative ease, mostly due to the protective barrier that was Teddy. Hermione had learned early on that as long as she held her best friend's godson, no one would provoke her.

Much to her relief, it was finally time for her to depart back to Romania. Though she was slightly reluctant to admit it, Hermione had become very fond of Romania and those who inhabited the reserve, both human and reptilian. After saying her many farewells and promising Harry, Ginny, and Teddy that she would visit for dinner next week, Hermione left through the floo once more.

Inhaling deeply as she entered her small, but homely, hut Hermione grinned happily. She had come to appreciate the peacefulness of the reserve's living quarters and relished her return after a Weasley brunch. Normally she would curl up on her small couch in front of the warm fire and catch up on some reading, but not today.

Today she had a mission.

Changing into a pair of dragon hide boots and matching vest she grabbed her gloves and made her way towards the hatchling keep. It was her favorite place on the reserve; she loved watching the baby dragons. She also loved the way fully grown dragon tamers could be reduced to roughly brushed away tears at the sight of a hatching; it warmed Hermione's heart.

The first night she ever went into the hatchling keep was three weeks after the attack. She was a mess. In her eyes, there was nothing more she could do. If Poppy was unable to cure Charlie, how would she? It was nearly one in the morning when Lucas found her bleary eyed and emotionally distraught beside Charlie. Unfamiliar in dealing with upset women, Lucas did the only thing he could think of: he hugged her. Initially Hermione had stiffened but eventually he felt her crumble into him and she began to cry in earnest. Mildly uncomfortable, Lucas let Hermione cry and gently stroked her hair.

Once she had calmed, Lucas gently tugged her upwards and took her by the hand out of the medical clinic. Hermione was too drained to protest and followed behind, her interest peaked. Once they had reached the hatchling keep and sat down beside the incubators Hermione asked why they were there.

"Well," explained Lucas, "we can all see how cut up you are about not being able to heal Charlie and since this is his favorite spot I figured you might benefit from spending some time here, you know? To get a bit of Charlie, to maybe see what he sees, understand something about him." He grinned crookedly, "And if none of that works, you can at least have something to talk about with him once he wakes up."

"I, um, thanks," muttered Hermione shyly.

"Don't worry about it." he replied. "Now, I'll leave you to get acquainted. I'll be back in a bit."

Alone, Hermione pulled herself and her thoughts together and took a look around. In front of her were twelve incubators, each housing an egg. She got up and began to walk around noting that each egg was slightly different from the others of the same breed. Some were darker than others while some had brighter colors than others. She made a note to ask Lucas when he returned. As she reached the end of the row her brown eyes were drawn to a smaller than average egg, tinted gold covered with fiery red lines and speckles that reminded her of spilled ink on parchment.

She was still mesmerized by the little dragon egg when Lucas returned. "I see you've found Firecracker, our smallest egg this year. The mother was sick, that's why it's so little. If the egg comes from a healthy dragon it's much bigger and has more gold in it. The same goes for all the eggs here, either the egg itself is sick or the mother is sick, they won't look right. That's how the keeper's know to bring them to the keep. The mother's won't care properly for their young, so we have to raise them. It's right sad actually." He looked down at Hermione and noticed she looked worse than before, "Alright, Miss. Granger, I think it's time to go to bed."

After that night Hermione and Lucas had formed a brother sister type relationship and become very close very quick.

Now though, she was on her way to visit her favorite hatchling, Firecracker. She was a small Chinese Fireball who had immediately taken to Hermione. The young dragon was slow to start the hatching process and the other keepers had assumed she was dead, but Hermione had a feeling and refused adamantly when they tried to remove the egg. She wasn't wrong. Nearly a full week after the other eggs began rolling Firecracker exhibited her first tosses and turns. Everyday Hermione would spend her break with Firecracker and then sit next to the comatose ginger and tell him all about it.

Hermione spent fifteen minutes rubbing the tiny dragon's belly and playing with the little creature before heading over to the clinic.

Walking in she felt apprehensive, she feared that Maggie would reject her modified potion. She found her boss quickly waving her wand over a grimacing tamer. An angry burn streaked across the upper part of his tan arm. She waited until the healer finished her work and sent her patient home before broaching the subject.

"I modified the cure that Madam Pomfrey gave me and I think that it will safely cure Charlie. If it doesn't wake him, I think it will at least remove the rest of the Horntail venom from his system." Hermione pushed her notes toward Maggie and watched as a small smile appeared on her face. She looked away as hazel eyes met her brown ones.

"Well Healer Granger, I think this just might work." Hermione sagged in relief. "Can it be administered now?" asked the head healer. At Hermione's nod, she rose and moved towards Charlie's bed.

Shaking nervously Hermione gave Charlie a dose of the first potion, then the second, now a much more muted green, and finally a drop of the shimmery silver liquid. Now she waited, her breath held tight inside her like the air trapped in a balloon. She felt that at the slightest moment she would pop and all the oxygen inside her would flow out of her. Her vine wand was clutched so tight in her hand that her small knuckles were a pale white.

And then it happened.

It was subtle, something only a trained healer would notice. It was a tick, a near imperceptive shudder that indicated one thing and one thing only: Charlie Weasley was breathing. On his own. Hermione's heart leapt into her throat. A strained groan erupted from Charlie as he struggled to uncover his eyes.

"Welcome back to the land of the living Mr. Weasley," said Maggie through her vibrant smile. Hermione sighed audibly, relief flooding her veins like a drug.

Pale blue eyes shifted from Maggie over to Hermione. "Who are you?"