"You know you can't hold me forever
I didn't sign up with you"

            ~Elton John, "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road"

"Ms. Granger?" Dr. Boonyfetter interrupted as Hermione sat in the waiting room, which she did every day. Harry did not let her into his room, the guard posted did not her into Harry's room, and so she silently showed her dedication to her husband each and everyday by sitting in that waiting room, passing messages onto her husband through that useless rent-a-cop – occasionally shooting evil glances to MediWitch Bocagrande, who scurried around for her husband, and attempted to ignore her in the process.

Just one word from her, and she would be let into his room. She could bend the rules, move Carl the Guarddog, but no, it seemed that Nurse Bocagrande would not acquiesce her despite her pleadings to see her husband, talk to her husband, be with her husband. Dr. Boonyfetter had removed himself from the situation, saying that he had already exceeded his authority by letting Hermione in that first time, it would up to Bocagrande now.

And it was up to Bocagrande now.

"Ms. Granger?" Dr. Boonyfetter attempted again, pulling Hermione off her train of thought – that piece of evil situated conveniently behind the MediWitch's Station.

"Yes?" she asked, responding to the elderly doctor's hand on her shoulder.

"We need to talk about your husband," he said quietly.

"What? Will he be released soon?" she said enthusiastically, a smile spreading on her lips.

"No, no, he will not be released anytime in the near future. It would be unproductive for him to face the real world right now, and I doubt his body could take it. As it is, he is still adapting to real life – freedom, three square meals, the hospital staff. It's been ages, I know, Ms. Granger, but it will take his mind ages longer than his body to recover from the horrors he's seen."

"I see," she whispered, disappointed.

"There, there, dear. Just a little while more, and you'll have your old Potter back. Right now, he's experiencing a problem reconnecting with life. He's afraid of forming new connections with you especially because he knows what being Harry Potter means to your relationship. If he was to disappear again, he doesn't know if you can handle it. Well, it's that among other things."

"Other things?"

"Your husband's violent dreams have been getting more and more frequent. The medication, the new serums are not working anymore. Quite frankly, we're running out of ways to sedate your husband, and he no longer wants to be here. We think that the troubling atmosphere – the hospital, the intrusive examinations and questions by the Mind Specialist – it's slowly driving his mind to react in ways that his body cannot, being constrained."

"W-what is happening in these dreams?"

"We don't know. He's been yelling your name over and over in his dreams, jerking every part of his body, clawing at his own face – you can see the fingernail marks and blood on his pillow in the morning – and perhaps the most disturbing, Ms. Granger, he yells the Killing Curse loud and often. Mr. Longbottom down the hall gets very agitated at the constant yelling. He refractured his healing arm last night from his violent body jerks – and remember, he was strapped down at the time. We just don't know what to do. We have one of the most renowned Mind Specialists in all of wizarding Britain here just for Mr. Potter – he refuses to speak to her. We attempted hypnotism – Mr. Potter fought it. We attempted a mild Truth Serum – Mr. Potter fought it. He won't talk, but he gets more and more serious every day. I can't release him until he's cured of these physical ailments."

"When he's awake, though, he's perfectly coherent?"

"If not a little aggressive and hostile to the MediWitches, and of course, to me and the Mind Specialist. Other than that, nothing you wouldn't expect from a wizarding savior strapped to a bed. Its his actions when he's asleep that scare me. It's the fact that he won't talk. It's the fact that he seems unwilling to help me help him."

*****

Hermione realized she could do no good today at the hospital, she'd simply return tomorrow. Amongst the other things she had to complete today, job one was stopping by Remus and Severus' flat.

Well, Remus' flat now.

She knocked hesitantly on the door, before a thin, graying obviously blonde man opened the door, haggard, back bent, looking like Atlas himself after a thousand years of holding the world on his shoulders.

"Hermione," he said in that way he often said things, softly and a little too happily. "What a nice surprise."

"Remus, how are you doing?" she asked, following Remus into the small flat on the outskirts of Hogwarts.

"As good as I can be, considering the circumstances." His yellowed eyes softened. "They think I'm quite nutty for not signing Severus' death cert."

"They, meaning?" Hermione questioned.

"Just the free world," he chuckled softly. "No one that really matters or anything. You know how it is, it took you months to sign. That's what I heard the last time Percy was here – and that was – what? – three, four months ago? I haven't seen anyone in ages," he gestured towards his tattered robes that had not been changed in ages, "as you can obviously see."

"Harry's alive, Remus," she revealed quietly, fearing a heart attack might strike this blighted man who had taught her so much.

"Really? Is he now? Goodness gracious, I really haven't been in contact with the outside world, have I? That is excellent news!" His clapped his hands together, a twinkle in his eye, somehow for a moment regaining that spark of life he was famous for. "This deserves a drink!" He went to the cupboard. "So tell me about him."

Hermione told him the happier details, of which there were few. How they had talked a few times, of his fatigue but iron will. She used vague words – she did not want to ruin this very rare moment of happiness for Remus. Snape's death had ruined him something awful, perhaps Harry's miraculous find might help full him out of his funk.

"I am really quite happy for you," he said honestly, looking her in the eye. "Harry, alive. That is a wonderful miracle. I need to go see him. I need to go see a lot of people." Remus' eyes teared up a bit, and Hermione knew – she knew ­– that Remus was not thinking of Harry.

He was doing the same exact thing she had done every time a new prisoner had been released from Death Eater Headquarters. She had silently hoped that because one prisoner had been released, another prisoner – her husband – would be released. It was a conjoined dream, a vicarious dream from Remus channeled to Hermione as she held her beloved and kissed him the morning.

And sadly, Hermione just did not have the heart to tell him that she – in her heart of hearts, as did the rest of the Ministry and wizarding Britain – believed that Professor Severus Snape, master of Potions at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, ex-Death Eater, life partner of ex-Professor Remus Lupin, was actually quite dead.