Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

Chapter Twenty One

Recovery

Hermione looked down at Harry and Ron, lying in their hospital beds. Both had been immobile since the battle had ended, and she had somehow found herself as the Order's representative since Harry was out of it. The Ministry was in an uproar about the attack, but were all very pleased that they had managed to get a victory out of the battle, despite the losses. Nearly all the shop owners had been killed, and the Ministry were trying to find people to cover the shops until they could get things back in order. George and Aberforth had been found down an alleyway, the result of too much Dementor exposure. They would both be fine. Most of the others had superficial wounds. Ginny had to take a glass of Skele-Gro to get her hand back. Mrs Weasley had arrived earlier, frantic with concern for her family. She had been so worried about all of them that Hermione found it touching. Ginny and Fred had done their best to comfort her, while Hermione attended to other matters.

"Are they going to be all right?" Hermione asked Madam Pomfrey.

The matron surveyed her.

"I don't know. I've given Ron the antidote to the Black Flame, but I don't know if it will work. You might have taken too long in getting here."

Hermione's lip trembled.

"Harry I don't know about either. He's lost nearly half of all his blood. I don't know if he'll survive, despite the blood replenishing potion I keep giving him."

Hermione looked at the two boys, and left the hospital wing, to be face to face with Mrs Weasley.

"Why did you let him fight?" she asked hysterically.

"Mum, I told you, Harry was determined. He won't listen to anyone when he's like that." Ginny said exhaustedly.

"Mrs Weasley, do you think I wanted him to fight? Look where it's got him. And Ron." Hermione said, though she was hurt that Mrs Weasley thought she had something to do with all this.

Mrs Weasley seemed to sag.

"Sorry Hermione dear. I'm just so stressed. What if they die?"

Hermione nodded, her throat constricting. What if they died? Ron's death would affect them all, the Weasley's, Hagrid, and most especially her. She didn't doubt that.

But Harry's death? What would that do to the Weasley's? To her? To the Order? To Hogwarts? To the world?

Unbidden, an image of a possible future rose in her mind. Harry was dead. Voldemort was taking over. Order members died every other day trying to delay him. The Weasleys were killed when Voldemort barged into their safe house, none of them defending themselves. The Ministry would collapse, and Hermione and a few other Order members would be left until the very end. Then, Voldemort would just slaughter them all with one swift strike, and then he would rule. She couldn't let that happen. Steeling herself, she went to take command of the Order for the interim.

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Ginny sat by Harry's bedside. It was nice that he was finally sleeping without nightmares, but she would rather it was certain that he would wake up from it. She looked down at him sadly. If only he had gone to Hogwarts, she and Hermione could have held off Demagoth and his forces. She kissed him, and then left. Hermione would be here soon to start her three hour long vigil. She spared a glance for her brother, and shook her head. They had all known it would be dangerous. She hoped he would survive. She hated to think about what it would do to Hermione if he died, when they had finally got over themselves and worked out their feelings. She opened the hospital wing, and found herself staring at Dean Thomas, her ex boyfriend.

"Hello Dean." She said wearily.

"Hi. Potter still out of it then?"

Ginny eyed him apprehensively.

"Yes, why?"

"Just concerned about you, that's all."

She arched her eyebrow.

"Really?" she asked suspiciously.

"Yeah. Seeing as Potters not fit, I was wondering, if you wanted someone's shoulder to cry on…" he said and tailed off.

The look she had just given him could have set alight a forest.

"So, you think that just because Harry is wounded, you can get back with me?" she demanded incredulously.

Dean mumbled in embarrassment. She bristled with fury.

"You Dean Thomas, are a wart! What nerve!"

She then got out her wand and blasted him with a Bat Bogey Hex. He fell down, and she started to walk away, when a voice blared out.

"Ginny Weasley!"

Ginny turned to her mother.

"Why are you attacking him?" Mrs Weasley asked.

"He made a move on me!" she exclaimed.

Whatever Mrs Weasley had been expecting, it certainly wasn't that. She turned to Dean.

"Mr Thomas, twenty points from Gryffindor, and if I ever hear of you making a move on my daughter again, I will never let you out of detention."

Ginny grinned at Mrs Weasley, who looked furious.

"Damn cheek. He's out of it for a couple of hours, and the vulture's are already circling."

"Everyone's heard about Hogsmeade now mum." Ginny pointed out.

"I suppose."

"Why are you here anyway?" Ginny asked.

"I've swapped shifts with Hermione. She's in a meeting with McGonagall and Scrimgeour. She's hearing the tale of how dear old Umbridge got herself out of Azkaban. She's even had the brass neck to return to work! Hermione doesn't seem too pleased to say the least."

Ginny laughed lightly, then bade her mother goodnight. She headed back to her room, the one she normally shared with Harry. Looking down at the bed, she sighed. She would just need to accept she wouldn't have anything to cuddle up to tonight.

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Next morning, Hermione was in a towering temper. She had heard the previous night how Umbridge had got out of Azkaban and was now lording it over the entire Ministry. More people seemed to support her now than before! She barged into the hospital wing, waking Fred with a start.

"Hello Hermione. Good night?"

"No. I heard what Umbridge is up to. And about Dean. And it's very hard to get to sleep now that I don't have him to cuddle up to." She moaned, indicating Ron.

Fred looked at her in sympathy. This was a first.

"You doing school today?" he asked.

"McGonagall and your mum seem to think Ginny and I should. Keep our mind off things. I suppose I better."

"George is being let out later. Madam Pomfrey seems to think they should start recovering today, if they are. And Mrs Figg's funeral will be as soon as this pair wake up."

"McGonagall told me last night."

"They'll be fine, you'll see. Then you'll be wondering why you didn't spend more time working."

Hermione stared at him.

"What's got you in such a good mood? You aren't one of these horrible morning people are you who like waking up and facing the day?"

Fred giggled. Hermione smirked.

"You're in love. That's why you're so chipper. You're in love with someone, and I'm going to find out who." She warned.

Fred winked at her, and left. She shook her head. He was madly in love with someone. She had seen it before when Harry had made progress with Cho and Ginny. Shaking her head, she headed away for breakfast.

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Bella was once again listening at the door. The Dark Lord's favourites were becoming few. Now it was only her and Draco who he was fond of. He seemed to have adopted Draco as a sort of protégé. How sweet. Bella too quite liked the boy being around. It gave the Death Eaters some new blood.

Voldemort was blaring at the top of his voice to Demagoth and Pettigrew about losing the battle and Avery. He was not a happy bunny. Snape still hadn't redeemed himself either, so Bella was in quite a good mood. Looking up, she saw a beetle walking along the wall. Resisting the urge to blast it, she went back to listening at the door.

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Rita, in her beetle form, walked through a small crack, and gasped. The Dark Lord truly was a horrible sight. His hands were like white spiders, his eyes red with cat-like pupils. He had slits for nostrils and a pasty complexion, and his teeth were rotten. Not a pretty sight. Demagoth and Pettigrew were being tortured for their failure.

Rita didn't see what the point was in spying on them at the moment, but Hermione had been insistent. She had taken charge of the Order while Harry was unconscious. She was worried about him, she was afraid to say. She was actually quite fond of him, to tell the truth. He was young, and had a commanding presence, and wasn't nearly as stuffed up as most of the people in the Ministry that she interviewed. She was quite fond of all four of the kids actually, Hermione included. Despite her frequent protests, she admired the girl's fire. She didn't want to think about what would happen to the girl if her boyfriend died. She liked him too. He was the joker of the lot, but quite powerful when he put his mind to it. He was loyal, and you could wish for more in a friend. And his sister, she was also quite different. Rita admired her toughness, her fire, her skills as a witch and many other things. She was also pleased that she had managed to capture Harry's heart so thoroughly.

Down below her, Voldemort had stopped shouting, and Demagoth and Pettigrew were running for the door.

"Send in Bella!" he yelled.

As they departed, Bella entered.

"Bella, my dear. You at the moment are the most successful of my Death Eaters. So, I will tell you the next stage of the war." He said.

"Yes master?" she asked enthusiastically.

"Soon, we will attack the Ministry of Magic, and will destroy the government's leaders. Then, our lives will be so much simpler." He explained.

Bella smirked contentedly. Rita was flabbergasted. Voldemort was getting quite ambitious if he thought he would be able to take down the Ministry. What to do? The Order would need to know of this. But, the more she knew, the better off they would be. Settling herself in, she waited for the plans to be laid bare.

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"Look at her blubber! She's supposed to be a teacher!" Pansy Parkinson screeched at the top of her voice, Crabbe and Goyle snorting with laughter.

Hermione's temper, quite close to the surface today already, was already strained to the breaking point with anxiety about Harry and Ron. A slight on Mrs Weasley wasn't going to improve her mood any. Ginny was glaring daggers at the older girl. Mrs Weasley had just dissolved into tears again, frightened of her boy dying, and of her technically adopted son dying too. Mrs Weasley had stormed off by now, and people were looking to where she had run off with sympathy. Some could fully appreciate what she was going through.

"Parkinson, that's called love. Not that you would know what that is, would you? You've never loved anyone in your life." Hermione crowed.

Pansy span at Hermione.

"Shut up you filthy little mudblood! I loved Draco! And he loved me!"

"Not as much as he loves Voldemort and his new powers. He's probably forgotten you already." Hermione sneered.

She had been spoiling for a fight all day, and she was close to one now. Ginny pushed Hermione away from them. Something then whizzed past Hermione's ear, too close for her liking. She turned, her wand raised. Then, Pansy turned into a warthog and started being bounced off the walls.

"Never- attack- someone- when- they're- back- is- turned. Dirty- lowlife- scummy- thing- to- do- to- someone." Mad Eye Moody growled, bouncing Pansy off the walls.

The crowd of students were laughing. Some probably remembered when Barty Crouch Jr had done nearly the same thing to Draco Malfoy when impersonating Moody. Moody seemed to be quite enjoying himself, and threw a wink at Hermione and Ginny. Ginny never noticed this as she was keeling over in laughter.

"Alastor?" McGonagall's crisp voice cut across the entrance hall.

The Headmistress descended the stairs.

"What are you doing?" she asked in interest.

"Teaching." He answered.

"Teaching? Moody, is that a student?"

"Nah, it's a warthog." Moody answered, his lips forming a grin.

"No!"

McGonagall waved her wand and Pansy flashed back to her human form, screaming things Hermione had never heard before.

"We do not use Transfiguration as a punishment! Especially when the punisher isn't even a teacher!"

Hermione was remembering when McGonagall had rescued Malfoy from a similar fate three years ago. Moody didn't seem to care.

"We speak to the offenders Head of House!" McGonagall shouted.

"What's all this?"

Slughorn had just arrived from the dungeons, and looked at the scene.

"The girl attacked Hermione." Moody said, glaring at Pansy.

Pansy was mumbling about Draco.

"So, you're in contact with a Death Eater are you? That's an arresting offence now!" Moody said, grabbing Pansy by the arm.

"I will deal with her Alastor. Miss Parkinson, my office. Now." McGonagall snarled in a dangerous voice students hadn't heard before.

Pansy stormed off, muttering darkly.

"Professor Slughorn if you please." McGonagall said graciously, and she and Slughorn stalked off.

"Clear off, the lot of you!" Professor Sprout said, dispersing the crowd.

Moody winked at the two girls and went about his business.

Hermione and Ginny were just about to enter the Great Hall when Madam Pomfrey caught them.

"They're awake!"

The two girls shot off for the hospital wing.

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After kissing their respective boyfriends, and then slapping them for making them worry so much, Hermione and Ginny told Harry and Ron what had been going on. Harry was quite pleased with how they had managed while he had been out of it. He was still quite weak, but Madam Pomfrey said that after a good night's sleep he should be back to normal again, and the same went for Ron. It hadn't been too late to save either of them.

"Were there any deaths?" Ron asked.

Hermione nodded sadly.

"Mrs Figg. The funeral's going to be when you pair are back on your feet." Hermione said softly.

Ron looked downhearted. Harry felt it. The last person from his life before Hogwarts was gone. He had no one who had known him as a child now. Sadly, he twisted over, and went to sleep.

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That evening, the two boys were as right as rain, and were up and about. They all headed down to Mrs Figg's funeral together, and Flitwick, who had known Mrs Figg for quite some time, lead the service. Harry watched sadly as another person who had cared about him moved on, but felt Ginny supporting him emotionally. He then silently promised himself something. He would avenge Mrs Figg, his parents, Sirius, Dumbledore and everyone else, and god help anyone who got in the way.

The boys are back to normal, and poor old Mrs Figg has been laid to rest. Mind you, it was fun bouncing Parkinson around the entrance hall with Mad Eye, and most would think ironic.

Next chapter, cant remeber what happens, but please read on!