Hermione didn't want to wake up. Well, she did but she was in enough pain as it was and if she woke then she'd have to move and that would only make things worse. She'd actually been awake for at least ten minutes, listening to the chatter in whatever room she was in. That she could handle. But opening her eyes? There was no way in hell she was going to do that. First of all, the pain thing was number one on her mind. Secondly she'd heard Mrs. Weasley talking and while she loved the older woman, she couldn't handle being fussed over like she was sure Mrs. Weasley would do. And finally, she hadn't heard Draco. Hermione had no idea how long she'd been wherever she was-she assumed St. Mungo's-but she knew that he would have come. If it was actually serious like it seemed to be then he would have come. He hadn't, and Hermione was terrified of what that meant.

She knew she couldn't stay like this forever though, but Hermione really didn't want to deal with what she would see when she opened her eyes. Especially not her father. She didn't know how he'd gotten into the hospital but she knew that it was him who was sitting next to her, holding her hand like it was all he had left in the world. Sooner or later she would do it. But now just didn't feel like the right time.

Suddenly there was a presence by her ear and Hermione wanted to sigh as she heard a quiet voice speak. "You're going to have to open those eyes of yours sometime, Hermione," her father said, before sitting back in his chair. She should have known that he would notice she wasn't unconscious any longer; he could always tell when she was feigning sleep. He'd become quite good at that when she was only five and trying to hide the fact that she'd stayed up past her bedtime to read a book. "You promised to come home that night, and now you've kept me waiting another week longer. I'd like to see your eyes again," he continued in a whisper. Hermione wasn't sure if anyone else had heard the words, but she knew they made her feel incredibly guilty. She had promised to come home the night of Draco's trial, but she hadn't had much control over what had happened in Diagon Alley.

A deep sigh sounded from her father before Hermione made the decision to agree with him and open her eyes. She noticed almost immediately that the simple act made her head pound and she couldn't imagine what would happen if she moved much more. She took a calming breath and immediately had to put a hand to her chest; that hurt too. It definitely hadn't been this bad in her fifth year. Then again, the curse hadn't been at its fullest then, as it had been when it was used against her in Diagon Alley.

Hermione glanced at her father, who was looking at her with wide, relieved eyes, before looking at everyone else in the room. Mrs. Weasley was sitting on her other side though she hadn't seemed to notice that Hermione had opened her eyes yet. She was slightly surprised to see Ron standing in the corner, talking quietly to Ginny. Hermione nearly began to panic when she realized that Harry wasn't there. She began to doubt her assessment of his condition at Diagon Alley. What if it had been serious? What if he'd been horribly hurt? What if-

The door opened and Hermione heard glass shatter. She didn't even get the chance to turn her head and look at who was entering when she was pulled into a hug that hurt, yes, but also made her give off a sigh of content. After a moment she realized that it was Harry's black hair that was preventing her from seeing anything anymore. "Harry," she breathed, her hands gripping his shirt tightly as she hugged him back. "I'm glad you're okay,"

He gave a short laugh and pulled away, raising an eyebrow. "Honestly, Hermione, I'm glad you're okay," he said before Mrs. Weasley gave a gentle hug of her own.

"You gave us a right scare, Hermione," the older woman scolded, though Hermione knew she wasn't mad at her. "Honestly, to get that news and hear that both you and Harry had been hurt...I've been losing my mind with worry!"

Hermione's face warmed at the words and she nodded, trying not to wince as something twisted painfully in her chest. She half listened to the adults then as they spoke to her and called the healers in to look her over. Her eyes kept getting stuck on Ron, who continued to offer her a nervous smile. Eventually, once the healers had left and Hermione had been allowed to sit up in bed, she managed to convince her father, Mrs. Weasley, Harry, and Ginny to leave the room so she could have a word with Ron. Harry had promised to get more tea, which explained the shattering glass she'd heard when he first entered the room.

Ron stood cautiously next to her bed and Hermione's eyes narrowed slightly. "I know I shouldn't be surprised that you're here, but for some reason I am," she said, her voice slightly cold. "Ron can you just say something to me instead of standing there and staring?"

"Hermione I-"

"I'm sorry," she interrupted quickly, sighing and pressing a hand to her ribs so they would stop aching. "That was harsh. I'm glad you're here, Ron,"

He offered her a nervous smile before looking down at his feet and sighing. "I was really worried, you know. When I heard what had happened," Hermione simply nodded in reply and continued staring at him. There wasn't another response she could give him; if he wanted the conversation to continue then he would have to continue it himself. "I'm sick of fighting with you, Hermione,"

"I'm tired of the fighting as well," she said quietly.

"I should have been happy for you, when I found out what was going on with you and Malfoy,"

"Actually I think you had every right to be frustrated and hurt," Hermione said, sighing again. "However I wish you would have just talked to me instead of just ignoring me for the rest of the year,"

"Well I'm a jerk, aren't I?"

"Yes, you are,"

There was an awkward silence in the room for a few moments before Ron chuckled softly and offered Hermione a genuine smile. "Can we get past this?"

"Of course we can," Hermione said immediately, not regretting the words for an instant. "You're one of my best friends, Ron, I couldn't be without you for too long,"

"Well I feel a little better now," he said, nodding and letting out a sigh of relief. "To be honest I thought you were going to throw me out of here,"

Hermione laughed but quickly stopped, as that hurt as well. "I wouldn't dream of it," she said quietly, watching concern flicker on her friend's face. "Don't worry, Ron, I'll be up and running in no time,"

"Just don't strain yourself. Granted with the way you father and my parents have been talking lately, I doubt you'll be allowed out of the house for the next ten years,"

"They can't be that bad, can they?"

"Dad's a bit more level headed; he suggested keeping you inside for five," Ron joked, smiling at her.

Hermione fought to keep herself from laughing at that as well, and to her relief she succeeded. "I suppose I should talk to them, right? Try and get the sentence lessened," Ron cringed at the words and Hermione frowned immediately. "What?"

"Nothing,"

"Don't lie to me, Ronald,"

"Hermione it's not really my place to say. Harry should be the one to tell you, or maybe Ginny. They'd be the best at delivering the news,"

"Ron what are you talking about?"

"I'll just go get them then," he said, ignoring her question and hurrying out of the room.

For a moment Hermione was left alone in the room and she couldn't help but frown at her feet, but then the door opened again and Harry came in looking sheepish. He was clutching the Daily Prophet tightly in his hands and he couldn't hold her gaze, though every few seconds he would glance at her and sigh. "I'm sure you're wondering about Malfoy," he said slowly.

Hermione was sure her heart dropped at the sound of his voice, though if it had she knew that would have hurt a lot more. "Of course I am. He would be here, if he knew exactly what had happened. I'm sure of it. Has no one told him? Didn't I hear my father say that it's been a week?"

"He-He did come, Hermione, but he couldn't stay long,"

"Harry please just spit it out. What's going on?"

Instead of speaking he chose to hand her the Dailey Prophet and he tapped the front page. "It-It was front page news, apparently," he mumbled, frowning.

The headline of the article he obviously wanted her to read nearly made color rush to her cheeks again. Death Eater Falls for Muggleborn Hero was the title, and the contents of the article surprised her as well. It talked about how Draco's trial had been interrupted to try and get him to St. Mungo's. It also gave that fact that he'd been sentenced to Azkaban for five years, a fact that made Hermione feel even sicker than she always was. But what surprised her the most was the outburst he'd had, where the phrase I think I love her had escaped his lips twice. Hermione hadn't even known he was thinking thoughts like that. They could barely even talk about what their relationship was and he just went and shouted that in front of the entire Wizengamot? Despite that fact she still felt slightly pleased that he'd said it.

"Five years?"

"Well that's what it originally was. From what I've heard Draco's mother is trying to get it reduced,"

"But what about everything I found? I thought it would-"

"Hermione, I talked to some people at the ministry. They said the only reason he isn't spending the rest of his life in Azkaban was because of what you found. And, of course, the obvious change when he heard that you were hurt,"

"So there's nothing I can do?"

"I'm sorry," was the only response he gave. "But look on the bright side; in five years you can see him again and things will go back to normal,"

Hermione opened her mouth to protest; five years was far too long to go without seeing him and she knew it would be hard to just stay away. Her mouth fell shut though, because she knew that no matter how much she protested and how she yelled at Harry nothing would change. It wasn't his fault, what had happened. It wasn't her fault either. She'd known that her information might not be enough and she'd known that Draco would be punished for his actions in some way, but five years just seemed like too much. In her silence Harry had decided to hug her again, but gently this time. He seemed to have realized that the hug from earlier, while appreciated, had not felt good.

After a while Hermione's day fell into an irritating pattern. Every hour a healer would come in to check on her and give her a potion that was supposed to help, but it only frustrated her. She listened to her father talking to Mr. Weasley about muggle things, which excited Mr. Weasley to no end. Mrs. Weasley would fuss over her and ask questions about how she was feeling. Harry, Ron, and Ginny were doing their best to distract her by engaging her in conversation about what they were going to do with their summer. Harry and Ron wanted to go into Auror training and Hermione had told them she was thinking about a job in the ministry, which they'd laughed at.

She knew that this would be her life for the next few days, or however long it would take for her to recover from the curse she'd been hit with. Hermione knew she would try and convince her father to bring her books to occupy her time. It would be the only thing to stop her from becoming irreversibly bored while in the hospital. Her friends would be irritated that she would ignore them for her books, but Hermione didn't care. What she cared about was- "Miss Granger?" Hermione blinked and looked toward the door. There was a healer standing there and Hermione frowned; she could have sworn there was still fifteen minutes before she had to take her next potion. "Miss Granger, Narcissa Malfoy is downstairs and she would like to have a word with you. Is it all right if she comes up?"

Hermione blinked in surprise and looked to Harry, who was smirking. "You can talk to Malfoy's mother, can't you? From what I heard you two kissed in front of her at the platform,"

Her cheeks warmed at the words and her father raised an eyebrow, chuckling softly. "Shut up, Harry," she mumbled. "That's fine," she said addressing the healer. The healer nodded and quickly walked away. "What could she possibly want with me?"

"She asked us to let her know when you were awake," Mrs. Weasley said. "Considering what Harry's told us about your relationship with her son I thought it would be fine,"

"It is, I just..." Hermione trailed off. A guilty feeling made her stomach queasy; what if Draco's mother blamed her for him going to Azkaban? Hermione didn't know if she'd be able to handle that; she already felt bad enough without anyone else's blame on her.

"It'll be okay, Hermione," her father said with a comforting smile.

Moments later Narcissa Malfoy walked into the room, and Hermione could tell how much she'd been affected by her son going to prison. She looked very different than she had on the platform. She looked tired and worn, while before she'd looked very well put together yet slightly worried. "Miss Granger," she said, nodding slightly as Hermione struggled to sit up a little taller. When pain flared at the motion she took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment, collecting herself. She was starting to think she wouldn't complain if the potion came a little early. "I wanted to offer my thanks for what you've done for my son,"

"It was my pleasure," Hermione said, nodding slightly. It really was; she hadn't done it for Draco's mother. The act had actually been rather selfish; she hadn't wanted Draco to go to prison because she hadn't wanted to be without him.

"I still appreciate it," the older woman said, shifting slightly in her stance. Hermione could tell that being in the room was making her uncomfortable, but she was pleased that Narcissa was making an effort. "Secondly, I wanted to inform you that I was able to get the ministry to reduce his sentence by a year. I thought you would want to know,"

"How did you manage that?" Hermione asked quickly, becoming excited by the news. Even if she hadn't done it herself she was still thrilled that she would get to see Draco sooner.

"It's hard to say no to a mother," she said quietly, her eyes flickering to Mrs. Weasley. "I simply-"

Hermione was surprised by the door opening again, and the room fell to silence. Narcissa Malfoy's eyes went wide with disbelief as Andromeda Tonks walked into the room, being led by Teddy who was struggling to get his grandmother to release his hand. "Ne!" Teddy said excitedly, finally getting his hand free and running to her bed. "Ne, you hurt?" he asked, concern filling his eyes faster than Hermione had ever seen before. "I make better," he smiled, climbing on to the bed and settling himself by her side. "Story," he said before he began babbling excitedly with a tale Hermione could barely follow.

Her eyes were stuck on Andromeda and Narcissa. The two sisters who, Hermione guessed, hadn't seen or spoken to each other in years were currently wide eyed. "Narcissa," Andromeda said, the first to recover. "What are you doing here?"

Narcissa blinked and struggled to recover from the shock of seeing her sister. "I came to see Miss Granger. I wanted to tell her about Draco,"

"I'm sorry about him," Andromeda said, managing a small smile that looked apologetic.

"I'm sorry about your daughter as well,"

Andromeda nodded, her eyes going misty for a moment before she smiled. "It's good to see you again," she said, watching Narcissa nod with hope clear on her face.

"It is. Miss Granger," Narcissa said, turning to look at her once more, "I expect I will have more to say to you later. The ministry says I will be allowed to visit Draco at Christmas. I will contact you then," With another nod the woman left the room and Hermione focused her attention on Teddy, who was still talking despite the tension that was beginning to evaporate.

After getting another potion, Hermione fell asleep to the sound of Teddy's small voice. She didn't know how long this recovery would take but she could only hope it wouldn't be too long. She'd made a promise to Draco that she wouldn't just sit around waiting for him, and she intended to keep it. Which meant that once she was out of St. Mungo's, she would find a job and try to get her life on track until he was out of Azkaban. And even though it was four years away, Hermione knew that was the day she was looking forward to the most.