Chapter Fifty-Three: In The Wake
After Harry awoke the third time from yet another nightmare about Voldemort, he relented and took the sleeping potion Augustus had left for him.
Hours later, Harry was dragged from sleep to the sounds of someone in his room. His eyes opened slowly, and he felt his body tense up; he wondered for a moment if someone were about to attack him, and realized that trying to fend off an attack in his groggy condition would be hopeless, anyway. But as his vision focused, he saw a pretty young medi-witch placing a tray of food on his bed table.
'Oh, you're awake!' she said, blushing.
'Yeah,' Harry mumbled, pulling himself to a sitting position; every muscle in his body felt stiff. He looked out his window and saw that it was now night, with a half-moon glowing soft silver light into the room.
'Are you hungry at all? I can always do a Warming Charm on this if you'd rather sleep.'
'No, thanks,' said Harry, shaking his head to clear it, and just then, his stomach growled. The medi-witch pursed her lips as though to stop herself from laughing, and Harry smiled. 'I guess I am hungry.'
'Well, that's a good sign,' said the medi-witch. 'For your recovery, I mean.'
Harry nodded, and for a moment, he and the witch looked at each other awkwardly.
'You missed quite a scene while you were out,' said the witch. 'Reporters came. They were determined to talk to you, but Healer Smethwyck and some Aurors chucked them out.'
Harry smirked, but then smiled again at the witch. 'That's good to know. I don't much fancy dealing with that lot--reporters, I mean.'
'No, I imagine you don't,' said the witch. 'Anyway, you must be famished. I'll leave you alone.'
The witch started out, but Harry called out to her.
'Yes?' she said.
'What's your name?'
'Sophie,' said the witch. 'Sophie Dobbs.'
'Dobbs...' said Harry. 'That name...sounds familiar.'
'My sister Emma goes to Hogwarts,' said Sophie. 'She's in fourth year, a Hufflepuff.'
'And...and she's okay?'
'She's fine,' said Sophie. 'Thanks to you...and your friends.'
Harry swallowed. 'I had a lot of help.'
'I know,' said Sophie. She gave him a sad smile and started out again.
'Sophie!' Harry called.
'Yes?'
'Is Ginny Weasley okay?' he asked. 'And Ron...what about Ron?'
Sophie shook her head. 'I don't know anything about them, my shift only started an hour ago. I can find out for you if you'd like.'
'No,' said Harry, 'that's okay. I'm sure they're fine...I can find out tomorrow.'
Sophie gave him one last smile and a nod, and left the room. Harry contemplated his meal that rested on the table beside him. His stomach gave another insistent growl, and yet Harry had never felt less like eating.
Eat something anyway. You have to keep your strength up.
He forced himself to eat the overcooked chicken and mushy mashed potatoes and carrots, but didn't touch the Brussels sprouts. He gulped down the glass of pumpkin juice—which was thankfully chilled—and then put the tray back down on the table beside his bed. He felt sleep pulling at him again, and lay back against his pillows, closing his eyes...
Harry!
He sat up as a burst of pain sizzled through his bloodstream.
Ginny...
He felt another rush of pain. Something was very wrong.
He swung his legs around and got up from the bed. The floor was freezing; he slid his feet into his slippers and pulled on the dressing gown provided to him. He'd probably get in trouble again, being up and about and out of his room, but he didn't care. Ginny was hurting...he had to get to her...
He double-checked that Ginny's wand was in his dressing gown pocket and quietly left his room. The corridors were dimly lit, and Harry realized it must be rather late at night by now, which would also explain why he hadn't yet bumped into anyone.
He checked his watch—the one Ginny had given him for Christmas—before remembering that it didn't have numbers on it or even tell the time, because it was a miniaturized replica of the Weasley clock. Harry's eyes did stray to Ginny's name, and the tightening in his abdomen brought on by Ginny's pain was eased, if only slightly, when he saw that her name was positioned beneath "In Hospital."
There was another surge of pain as Harry climbed down the staircase from his room, and still another as he entered the main lobby, which was, surprisingly, empty.
Harry felt another sizzle of pain in his body and with a burst of adrenaline, he ran to the reception desk, flipping open the register, frantically scanning for Ginny's name...
Room 107, which was just down the corridor. Ron, meanwhile, was only two doors down.
Harry rushed down the corridor, skidding to a stop in front of Room 107; without preamble, he opened the door.
'NO! Help me...please help me!'
Ginny was screaming, and she was struggling. Harry's whole body sang with her pain, and she flailed about in the throes of a nightmare.
'Ginny...Ginny, wake up!'
Harry saw that two people were trying to subdue Ginny's flailing limbs. One was a medi-wizard, and another was Andromeda Tonks.
'Come on, Ginny...' said the medi-wizard.
I'm here, Ginny!
A moment after Harry reached out, Ginny seemed to snap awake, and dissolve at once into tears.
'Harry...' she whimpered, and she collapsed against Mrs. Tonks, who wrapped her arms about her.
Harry started towards her bed, but at that moment, Mrs. Tonks and the medi-wizard turned.
'Oi, what are you doing in here?' the medi-wizard snapped.
Ginny was sobbing hard, clinging to Mrs. Tonks. Her eyes met Harry's and she gave a small cry of pain, and Harry recoiled.
'Harry,' said Mrs. Tonks urgently, 'you can't be here.'
Harry didn't move; he was struck dumb, his body seemed to burn with Ginny's pain, but every time he tried to send her a calming thought, she reacted as though he was hurting her.
'Harry, you have to leave!' Mrs. Tonks ordered. 'Right now!'
Harry backed away, horrified at himself, at the scene. Ginny wept inconsolably, her tears soaking Mrs. Tonks's robes, but her eyes wouldn't leave Harry's face.
'I'm sorry, Ginny...' he said, stricken.
'Go, Harry!' Mrs. Tonks snapped.
Harry ran from the room. Once outside, he closed the door and leaned up against the wall. He was panting and felt suddenly exhausted, and then sensed another rush of pain. He moved away from Ginny's room, his heart splitting in two.
I can't even get close to her. She's in so much pain...it's...it's like when she first found out...
Harry moved further down the corridor and suddenly found himself in front of Ron's room. He looked inside, desperate for something, anything to quell the ache in his heart. Ron seemed to be bandaged almost from head to toe, with one bandage stretching over his eye. But the moonlight that softly struck his face showed him to be sleeping; he looked pale and haggard, but peaceful. Harry focused all his feelings on Ron, trying to ease the clenching of his heart at seeing Ginny...
Don't think about Ginny. Thinking about her hurts both of you!
Harry knew he shouldn't, knew he was being selfish, knew there'd be hell to pay if he were caught, but he slowly opened the door to Ron's room.
It was only when Harry was inside the room that he saw its second occupant. Hermione was there, sitting in a chair next to Ron; her head rested on her arms, which rested on Ron's bed. Harry couldn't tell if she was asleep at first. She must have heard him come in--the door creaked horribly--but she didn't stir.
'Hermione?' Harry whispered, crossing the room. He came to the other side of Ron's bed, and saw that she was, indeed, awake, and staring at Ron with an inscrutable expression on her face.
'Hey, Hermione,' Harry whispered.
'Wha--oh!' she said, looking up. 'Harry. What are you doing here?'
'I should ask you that,' said Harry, sitting down in the chair opposite. 'I thought you were with your parents.'
'I was,' said Hermione, 'but I had to come back here and check on him. They let me come. I Flooed here...their house is on the network now. They...understood I needed to be here.' She turned her eyes back on Ron, who slept on, undisturbed. Her jaw looked to have been fully healed; she seemed able to talk without much difficulty.
'How long have you been sitting here?' Harry asked.
'Three or four hours, I think,' said Hermione; her gaze on Ron was almost trance-like, unblinking.
'Hermione, you should get some sleep,' Harry whispered.
'You're up and about,' Hermione pointed out.
'Couldn't sleep,' said Harry. 'Did you just hear...Ginny?'
Hermione shook her head; she wouldn't stop looking at Ron. 'No,' she said. 'The sound-proofing in this place is quite good.'
'Oh,' said Harry heavily, and again, he forced himself to drive thoughts of Ginny from his mind. He couldn't, he wouldn't let himself contribute to her pain. Instead he looked at Ron.
'He looks better,' said Harry.
'Yes, he does,' said Hermione. 'He's a bit pale but...the Healers said he'll make it for sure. They said...he's very strong...he fought really hard...to live, I mean...that's what they said...they'd never seen anyone fight so hard...'
Her eyes filled with tears. 'He's been through a lot, hasn't he?'
Harry reached across Ron and took her hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. She squeezed back, and wiped her eyes with her free hand.
'His eye,' she said, 'is damaged. He's not...he's not blind or anything, but...but when the wall fell on him, he was hit in the head and it damaged some of his nerves...his peripheral vision in his eye is mostly destroyed...that's what the Healers said...but...but if that's the worst of it...'
She broke off and looked up at Harry; her chin was trembling.
Harry did the only thing he could think to do; he moved around the foot of Ron's bed and came to Hermione, kneeling down and pulling her into his arms. She sobbed on his shoulder, clinging to him tightly.
Harry had never really embraced Hermione like this; he'd never been the one she'd leaned on. It had always been Ron; he'd always been the one to engage her, the first to show concern for her, the first to offer his strength. Harry thought with a pang of all the times he'd failed her in the past, all the times he'd been mean to her and pushed her away, when all she'd ever wanted was to help him. He clung to her more tightly, hoping that, by holding her now, he could at least start to make it up to her, to be the brother she'd never had. At the same time, he tried not to think about how he wished he could hold Ginny like this again...
Don't think about Ginny. Don't hurt her. Think about Hermione. Be there for Hermione.
He held Hermione close to him, letting her cry, as Ron slept on peacefully.
It was nearly dawn when they left Ron's room. They had both fallen asleep in chairs next to Ron's bed. Harry awoke when sunlight pierced the room and a beam of it landed on his face. He woke Hermione gently.
'Hermione,' he whispered, tapping her on the hand. 'We should go. We'll get in trouble if we're found in here.'
'What?' she murmured, blinking sleepily. 'Oh, yes.'
She stood up slowly, but as she put weight on her left leg, she gave a little whimper and staggered slightly.
'Hey...' Harry said urgently, rushing to her side. 'You okay?'
'I'm fine,' Hermione insisted. 'It's just the burn on my leg. The muscles hurt and it stings when I move it.'
She tried to take a step but faltered again, and Harry put an arm around her waist.
'Harry, I don't need--'
'Yes, you do,' Harry said, giving her a stern but fond look. She sighed and leaned against him, and they moved slowly from Ron's room.
'You came here on this bad leg? By Floo Powder? Are you mad?' Harry asked her, when she winced again as they moved out of Ron's room.
'It's no big deal, Harry,' Hermione said softly.
'And you lecture me about taking risks,' said Harry, shaking his head and smiling.
She laughed then, a real laugh, and it warmed Harry's heart to hear it. He clung to her laughter as they moved down the corridor, past Ginny's room. He forced himself not to look through the window on her door, for fear of hurting her again with his presence, but Hermione caught the anguished look in his eyes.
'Harry...' she said softly, stopping them just before they came into the lobby. 'You're worried about Ginny.'
Harry started to say something, but he realized lying would be pointless. The only thing he could do was try to contain the emotions that were suddenly bursting to come out.
'Yeah,' he said.
'Do you want to talk about it?' said Hermione.
'Not really,' said Harry. He waited for Hermione to argue, to insist he open up, but instead she hugged him.
'Okay,' she said. 'But...if you ever want to...I'm here.'
He hugged her back, feeling absurdly grateful to her just then.
'Thanks,' he said. They broke apart.
'I should go back to my room,' said Harry. 'Augustus'll kill me if he catches me out of bed.'
'My parents are probably still waiting up for me,' said Hermione, smiling.
'Are you coming back later?' Harry asked. He suddenly realized how alone he felt. Ron was unconscious and Ginny...he couldn't even go near her. Hermione was all he had left.
'Yes,' said Hermione, and Harry felt another wave of relief. She kissed him quickly on the cheek. 'If he wakes up...you'll make sure someone tells me?'
'I'll Apparate to you myself,' said Harry, grinning at her.
They parted ways, with Hermione going to the fireplace in the lobby and Harry heading down the corridor to his room. He heard the whoosh! of Hermione's departure, and felt immediately bereft again. He also decided, right then and there, that he despised hospitals, especially in the moments just before dawn. Things would be busy soon enough, but now, it was quiet as a grave.
There's a cheerful thought, Harry thought glumly.
As he moved into his bedroom, he suddenly became aware of the many aches and pains in his body. Soreness, no doubt, from everything he'd gone through, and sleeping in a chair in Ron's room hadn't helped matters.
But the physical aches were nothing compared to the increasing feeling of hollowness inside Harry's chest. He felt adrift, unanchored, and he was floating on a grey sea, surrounded by mist. Alone.
His whole life could be defined by that word, he thought. It was a selfish, petty, and not altogether true thought, of course. Harry wasn't alone: he knew that. And yet, he was alone anyway. His parents were dead. His only blood relatives couldn't stand him, and the feeling was mutual. He thought of Hermione, at home with her parents, and of the Weasleys, that big, messy family he'd come to love as his own. And yet, they weren't his own, not really. It seemed so...small of Harry to dwell on something as insignificant as a blood tie, and yet he couldn't help it. He didn't share the Weasleys' blood, or Hermione's, or anyone else's he wanted to be around. Their blood had saved his life, had helped him save everyone, but it wasn't truly his.
He pulled of his dressing gown, tossing it over a chair, with Ginny's wand still inside the pocket, and climbed into bed. All the while, he reflected on the familial connection of blood.
Harry's blood ties were dead and gone. His parents' sacrifice was a sacrifice of love, but it was Lily's blood that had sealed the magic. Petunia's blood that had protected Harry all these years. He closed his eyes and suddenly wanted to sleep again. For a month...
His mother and father were watching him. They were smiling, but they looked sad at the same time. They always seemed to look like that: as if they were so happy he was alive, but so sad that they couldn't be with him. And then Sirius joined them, and he was nothing like he'd been in the years Harry had known him. He was younger, handsome, and he was smiling, too, but like James and Lily, Sirius wore an expression of bittersweet regret, like he'd missed something. Dumbledore was also there, smiling, though a tear trickled down his cheek into his silver-white beard.
Harry reached out to them. He just wanted them back...if he could just have his parents...his godfather...his blood ties...
Blood was flowing. Rivers of it. Adriana Marvolo was lying in it, and nearby a baby was screaming...
'Harry!'
The baby's screams became Ginny's screams. She was reaching out to him, begging him to get her away, to take her away...Harry reached for her, closing his hands over hers...
She screamed as her flesh burned at his touch, and shrank back.
'Ginny! Don't go!'
'You cannot be here, Harry,' said Andromeda Tonks, and she closed a door--where had the door come from?--in Harry's face, and he was alone on the grey sea, in a ship with no rudder, no anchor, no sails...
But there were people on this ship. Swarms of them, all of them with cameras and notepads, they were surrounding him, asking him questions...
'How does it feel to have killed You-Know-Who?'
'Can you describe the battle?'
'Tell us about You-Know-Who's last moments, Harry!'
'You're not just the Boy Who Lived anymore, Harry! Can we call you the Boy Who Saved Us All?'
'The Boy Who Killed He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?'
'The Boy Who Beat Lord Thingy?'
'The Boy Who--'
'SHUT UP!' Harry screamed, clapping his hands over his ears as he squeezed his eyes shut. 'Shut up!'
Silence. Harry opened his eyes. The ship was empty, and there was mist all around him, and a soft breeze. The mist was moving...or was it the boat? Harry couldn't tell, but suddenly the mist cleared, and he saw, in the distant, an island. It was shrouded in fog and sorrow, and a lone red-headed girl stood on the shore, a beautiful red-headed girl with brown eyes that sparkled with tears. She reached out to him again.
'Harry...'
'Ginny...'
But the ship was moving away from her, from the shore. Harry scanned frantically for something, anything to steer the boat back, but there was nothing. He didn't even have a wand...his wand was in pieces...
'Ginny!'
She wasn't reaching out to him anymore. She was just staring at him sadly. Harry couldn't stand it; the ship was getting further away; she was fading into the mist...
He leapt off the boat and into the water. It was freezing, and Harry remembered, too late, that he wasn't a very good swimmer. He wiped the front of his glasses and began to paddle clumsily toward Ginny, who cried silently. He looked up at her and kept his eyes on her face, paddling forward frantically...
Ginny shook her head sadly at him, and Harry stopped swimming...
He was pulled under. Something had pulled him under. A snake. An enormous snake with red eyes...it hissed at him...it spoke to him...in Parseltongue...how was a snake able to talk underwater...?
'She's mine...and so are you...'
Harry struggled, but the snake had wrapped itself around him...it began to squeeze him...he couldn't breathe...he looked up in the water and saw the blurred shape of Ginny on the shore...
And then there were people all around him, floating in the water, with eyes wide open and dead. Daphne Greengrass...Ernie MacMillan...Padma Patil...Kenneth Towler...Pansy Parkinson...they were grasping at him, pulling him down, with the snake...
'Harry? Harry, wake up!'
Harry's eyes flew open and he jerked in his bed. Augustus Pye was standing over him with a worried expression on his face.
'Are you all right?' he asked.
'Fine,' Harry lied. 'Just...a bad dream.'
Augustus pursed his lips. 'You sure?'
'Yeah,' said Harry, and he grimaced. 'I guess I'll be having a lot of those for a while.'
Augustus nodded. 'Muggles call it Post-Traumatic Stress Syndrome.'
'I have a syndrome?' said Harry.
'Most likely,' said Augustus. 'I think a lot of people who lived through that night have it.'
'Ginny?'
'Most definitely,' said Augustus. 'For her, it's magnified because of the Empathy. She'd experience real physical pain in addition to the emotional trauma.'
Harry swallowed painfully. 'When does it...go away? The Post Traumatic thing?'
'It varies from person to person,' said Augustus, 'and it depends on the level of the trauma witnessed. Some people bounce right back; others...take weeks or even months, and some...some take years.'
'And others don't recover at all, do they?' said Harry heavily.
'Occasionally, yes,' said Augustus. 'One can a suffer a complete mental and emotional breakdown.'
Harry felt his eyes begin to burn. 'That's what happened with Ginny, isn't it?'
'I don't know,' said Augustus. 'I'm not treating her. But Empaths...typically have the hardest time recovering from extreme trauma, yes.'
Harry put his head in his hands. 'Dammit,' he whispered.
'Harry, what happened to Ginny--'
'--isn't my fault,' said Harry dully. 'That's what everyone's been saying.'
Augustus paused. He seemed at a loss for anything else to say on this subject, but Harry was grateful. He liked the Healer but he didn't want to talk about Ginny to him anymore. He didn't really want to talk about Ginny at all, or think about the possibility of her never recovering from what she'd been through. If that happened...she was lost to Harry forever. The very notion made his heart ache.
'I came by to check on you,' Augustus said, changing the subject. 'I just wanted to run a few quick tests on your vital signs, check on that leg. If things look good you can go back to Hogwarts today, get away from this place.'
Harry looked up at Augustus, his emotions splitting in two.
Leave here? Leave Ginny alone?
You can't see her, anyway.
But go back to Hogwarts? Where...where people will be crying over their dead...Daphne, Ernie, Padma...Pansy?
You can't help Ginny here. They might need your bed for someone else. It's best to leave...
'Okay,' said Harry. 'What do I have to do?'
'Just lie back,' said Augustus, and he proceeded to hover his wand up and down Harry; his wand glowed various colors, and Augustus paused frequently to make a note on his clipboard. He spent a good few minutes examining Harry's leg, and then Harry's skull. Harry didn't need to guess why.
He's making sure my mind hasn't cracked.
After another few minutes, it was over.
'Well, Harry, the good news is from a physical standpoint, you're fully recovered,' said Augustus, his voice tinged with a sad kind of sarcasm. 'You're free to check out at any time.' He put his hand on Harry's shoulder. 'I've left you some extra sleeping potion,' he added. 'Please take it with you.'
Harry nodded, and hardly noticed the Healer leave the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click.
Harry closed his eyes, but he could still see Ginny; he could still see the ones who'd died...
He had to get out of here. Even if Hogwarts was a pile of rubble, it was better than being here, with Ginny nearby, and yet so far away from him.
Resolved, Harry threw the covers off his bed. He ignored the tray of food on the side table, and went to the closet; in it he found a clean pair of jeans, a t-shirt, a pair of boxer shorts, and his old trainers. He wondered who would have supplied them, but then decided Mrs. Weasley probably had had the foresight to bring him fresh clothes. Thinking of Mrs. Weasley only made Harry think about Ron, and then about Ginny...
The knock at his door interrupted his dark thoughts.
'Come in,' he called, as he laced up his trainers.
The door opened, and Andromeda Tonks entered.
She looked exhausted; her hair was coming out of its bun, her eyes were bloodshot and had dark circles beneath. She moved gingerly, as if her whole body was sore, and she looked older and more haggard than Harry had ever seen her. She had clearly been up all night.
Trying to help Ginny...
Harry bit back a wince as he felt a distant twinge of Ginny's pain.
'Hello, Harry,' said Mrs. Tonks tiredly.
'Hi,' he said, his throat working against a lump.
'You're leaving?' said Mrs. Tonks, noting Harry's state of dress.
'Yeah, they said I was all recovered, I could check out,' Harry replied.
There was a moment of strained silence before Mrs. Tonks took a deep breath.
'I wanted to apologize,' she said, 'for what happened early this morning. For throwing you out of Ginny's room.'
Harry felt his Adam's apple bobbing against that awful lump.
'It's okay,' he managed. 'I know why you did it.'
'Yes, I imagine you do,' said Mrs. Tonks sadly.
'How is she?' Harry asked, unable to hide his eagerness to know something, anything about Ginny.
'She's very...very bad off,' said Mrs. Tonks, and she sat down wearily in a chair next to the closet. She rubbed her eyes, and looked up at Harry.
'She was in shock when she was brought in,' said Mrs. Tonks. 'Very, very serious shock. What you saw last night...'
Harry looked away.
'...that was Ginny coming out of her shock...that was Ginny experiencing the realization of everything that had happened to her. The nightmare she had triggered a breakdown.'
Harry couldn't look at Mrs. Tonks. He bit his lip to fight the urge to scream, to cry.
'Will she...will she ever recover?' he whispered.
'If she's as strong as I think she is, then yes,' said Mrs. Tonks.
Harry looked up, seized by a sudden glimmer of hope. 'Really?'
'Really,' said Mrs. Tonks. 'But I won't lie to you Harry, just as I couldn't lie to her parents. Ginny's recovery could take a very long time.'
'How long?'
'I don't know,' said Mrs. Tonks. 'Anytime an Empath experiences a traumatic event, or a series of traumatic events, she faces a tremendous uphill battle coming back from it, much more so than most. Ginny's scars run very deep, Harry. They go back to when she was a little girl and Tom Riddle possessed her with that diary.'
'But I thought she'd gotten over that,' said Harry, feeling his glimmer of hope evaporate.
'Nobody ever gets over a trauma,' said Mrs. Tonks. 'One only learns to accept what has happened, to learn from it, and to move on. Ginny will carry her experience with Riddle around with her for the rest of her life. Just as she'll carry what's happened in the past few days with her for the rest of her life.'
'What happened to her?' Harry asked.
'I don't know that yet,' said Mrs. Tonks. 'At least, not in any detail, and it wouldn't be my place to tell you if I did. All I do know, and all I can tell you is that she can't run from her pain, Harry. She will face it, and it will be hell for her, and there is nothing anyone can do to protect her from it.'
'Not even me,' Harry murmured. He felt like his heart was cracking.
'Especially not you,' said Mrs. Tonks, and she laid her hand over Harry's. 'Harry, the bond you have with Ginny...it comes with a price. I think you know what that is.'
Harry finally met Mrs. Tonks's eyes: they were heavy-lidded and utterly sad.
'I can't see her for a while, can I?' he said.
'No, you can't,' said Mrs. Tonks. 'Just being near to her will be too much for her to handle. She is starting at rock-bottom now, Harry. She has to rebuild herself and push through all the pain she's feeling, but she won't be able to do that if you're with her. You share too many hard experiences. You're a reminder to her of everything terrible that's happened these past few days.'
Her words lanced Harry's heart.
'She...she only thinks of bad things when she thinks of me?' he said, the hurt in his heart threatening to overwhelm him. 'But...but we were happy together, sometimes...can't she think of those things?'
'Not yet,' said Mrs. Tonks. 'Harry, I'm so sorry. I know you care for her--'
'I love her,' Harry said fiercely, tears forming in his eyes.
'Then let her be,' said Mrs. Tonks. 'I know this is hard for you, Harry, believe me. I wouldn't wish this on either of you. If there is anyone who deserves to be happy, it's you, and Ginny. But the bond you share wasn't just between the two of you. Voldemort was inside both of you. He's gone from this world, but not from your minds. He's infected every good feeling about you that Ginny has, to the point that she can't separate her good memories with you from the horrible ones with him. The associations are simply too close.'
Harry felt Mrs. Tonks's words sink in, and then felt a sudden flash of fury. He stood up and began to pace the room, willing himself not to completely blow up.
'Damn him,' he muttered, through clenched teeth. 'I...I killed him...and he's still here...he's still taking...'
Mrs. Tonks stood up and put a hand on his arm; he felt a flow of her powers inside him, and his muscles relaxed slightly, his anger faded somewhat, but he was left only with that horrible, hollow ache inside.
'How long?' Harry asked. 'How long do I...do I have to be away from her?'
'For as long as it takes,' said Mrs. Tonks. 'Only Ginny can make that determination.'
Harry nodded, and felt the tears burning in his eyes again. He pushed them down.
'I can't even go to the Burrow this summer, can I?'
'You can,' said Mrs. Tonks. 'Ginny's going to be staying with me this summer, so I can work with her full-time.'
'She'll go back to school in the autumn?' Harry asked.
'If we both think she can handle it, yes,' said Mrs. Tonks.
'I won't be there,' Harry said bitterly. 'I suppose that's a good thing.'
Mrs. Tonks was silent for a moment, but then she said again, 'I'm so sorry, Harry.'
Harry let out a breath, and then another awful realization struck.
'I can't say good-bye to her, can I?'
'It wouldn't be wise,' said Mrs. Tonks.
It was too much. This wasn't supposed to be happening. Voldemort was dead. He was supposed to be relieved, he was supposed to be holding Ginny, they were supposed to be planning some kind of future.
'I need to be alone,' Harry said.
Always alone.
'I understand,' said Mrs. Tonks. He wasn't looking at her; he heard her pad softly to his door. She opened it, but then, without looking at her, he sensed her turn back to him.
'You'll need help, too, Harry,' she said gently. 'You've shared a bond with an Empath, and that bond is unbreakable, and you have a bit of the gift now. You'll need...help.'
Harry snorted.
The 'gift.' Some gift. This gift was ruining his life, ruining everything...
'I know an Empath,' she said. 'She's in Switzerland. Geneva. She's very skilled. She could help you, if you like.'
Harry nodded dully.
Mrs. Tonks pulled a small piece of parchment from her robes and laid it gently on the chair in which she'd just been sitting. 'This is her name and contact information. I've already spoken with her. She's agreed to see you whenever you like, for as long as you like. She won't charge you anything, either...she's retired and has quite a fortune left over.'
Harry nodded again.
'Oh,' said Mrs. Tonks, 'I'll...be needing Ginny's wand, if you still have it.'
Harry pulled the wand from the pocket of his dressing gown, which was still thrown over the chair. He handed the wand to her, and she thanked him as she pocketed it.
'Please take care of yourself, Harry,' she said.
He listened to Mrs. Tonks' soft footfalls; she paused by the door, and he looked up.
'She'll get through this,' said Mrs. Tonks. 'She's very, very strong. She just needs time.' Mrs. Tonks paused. 'I don't want you to have any unrealistic expectations, but...please, don't give up hope.'
Hope.What hope was there? Ginny might come through this eventually, but would it be too late for them?
The door shut, and Harry looked up. Mrs. Tonks was gone. He was alone again. He stood in the center of the room, staring after Mrs. Tonks, his emotions swirling around him, threatening to drown him, like the snake in his dream. The snake that was Voldemort...that owned him, and Ginny...
Harry picked up the closest thing he could find: the flask of sleeping potion Augustus Pye had left him. He hurled it against the wall with a roar of anguish, where it shattered and sent potion flying, and he sank to the floor, the tears finally pouring out of him in great, hot torrents.
Harry wasn't sure how long he'd sat on the floor. It was only when there was another knock on the door that he looked up.
'Come in,' he croaked, picking himself up wearily off the floor and wiping his face quickly.
Remus Lupin entered, and his face was tight with emotion.
'Harry,' he said urgently. 'Come with me. It's Ron. He's awake.'
Harry staggered as though he'd been punched. He felt like he'd been punched.
'Harry, are you okay?' said Lupin, going quickly to his side and putting an arm around his shoulder.
'Yeah,' Harry lied, trying to process Lupin's news. Ron was awake. 'Is Ron...is he okay?'
'He's talking,' said Lupin. 'He's asking for you, and Hermione.'
'Hermione...' said Harry. 'I told her I'd tell her--'
'Tonks just went to her parents' house,' said Lupin. 'Are you sure you're all right?'
'Yeah,' Harry repeated. 'I want to see Ron.'
Ron. Ron was awake. Harry latched onto this single bit of happy news; it was the only thing that kept his legs under him, allowed him to walk quickly out of his room, everything else momentarily forgotten.
Until he and Lupin passed room 107. Harry couldn't stop himself from looking inside, and felt his heart drop in his chest. The room was empty. Ginny was gone, with Mrs. Tonks, no doubt.
Ron. Think about Ron!
Room 109 was busy.
'Let's wait out here for a moment,' Lupin urged. 'Give Molly and Arthur and his brothers a bit of time with him.'
Harry nodded, noting that Lupin hadn't mentioned Ginny. Was she thus to be separated from her entire family for the course of her treatments?
A few minutes passed, and Harry began to pace impatiently. Hermione wasn't here yet, and he wondered at this, but then, finally, the door opened, and Charlie, Bill, Percy and Fred hobbled out, followed by Healer Smethwyck and Sophie Dobbs. Harry forgot about Hermione.
'Hey, guys,' said Harry urgently, nodding quickly at the Healers as he headed straight for Ron's brothers. 'How is he?'
It was Bill who spoke; Bill's arm was in a sling and his head had been shaved, and there was an ugly gash that stretched from his right temple around to the back of his skull.
'He's okay,' said Bill huskily. 'Talking. He's groggy, tired, of course. And sore, very sore. But he's okay.'
'The Healers said it was the most amazing recovery they'd ever seen,' said Fred, trying hard to sound jaunty and not quite succeeding because of the emotion in his voice.
Harry swallowed. 'What about his eye?'
At this, the Weasley brothers exchanged looks.
'His eye's pretty messed up,' said Charlie. 'He's got no real peripheral vision in it, and Healer Smethwyck said his night vision would be really impaired, too. Something about his pupil not being able to dilate properly, I think.'
Harry felt his shoulders sag. 'That's...that's not good. For Ron, you know, going to the Auror training.'
'No, it's not,' said Bill heavily. 'You need near-perfect vision for it.'
Harry snorted. 'Oh, right, like I have perfect vision,' he said hotly. 'I got into the programs and I wear these things!' He indicated his glasses.
'You're Harry Potter, mate,' said Fred. 'No Auror program in its right mind would turn you down.'
Harry let out a frustrated sigh. In the end, it always came down that: he was Famous Harry Potter, and Ron, no matter how hard he tried, would always be Just Ron. It wasn't fair.
'There has to be something they can do,' Harry protested. 'Can't they, I dunno, operate on the eye? Or...what about a magical eye? Mad-Eye Moody has one. And...and hey, he doesn't even have both legs!'
'Moody went into the program fit as a fiddle,' said Bill. 'By the time he lost those body parts he'd been at it for a good while, and he was one of the best.'
'Healer Smethwyck says Ron will recover completely everywhere else,' said Percy, leaning on his cane. 'He'd be fit enough to go to training, by the time it comes around, but...the eye.'
'He can't play Quidditch, either,' said Charlie. 'Same problem.'
'And we can't...' said Fred uncomfortably. 'Well...we talked about it, see? With Mum and Dad, before Ron woke up. We thought we could maybe, you know, pool our money and buy Ron a new eye. They've got these new ones out now, look just like real eyes--you can even match the color perfectly--but they do all this cool stuff. You know, like Moody's? Only better...but they're really expensive. We...we just don't have the money for it. Not since the store got blown to bits, and not since the Burrow...'
Fred blushed and broke off, looking ashamed. All the Weasley brothers looked ashamed.
'We didn't know how expensive it would be to rebuild the Burrow,' said Charlie sadly. 'And Fleur's going to have the baby any second, so...there goes Bill's bit. Fleur's money is gone--it was in a bank in France and the bank got blown up by Death Eaters yesterday. One of those magical eyes costs a few hundred Galleons at least. There's nothing left...to help Ron.'
'I've got money,' said Harry. 'Lots of it. I'll pay for it.'
'We're not asking you to--' Bill began.
'I know you're not,' said Harry. 'I'm offering.'
Fred licked his lips. 'That's...that's right spiffing of you, Harry,' he said, 'but, you know Ron. He'd never accept it.'
'Well, he'll just have to,' said Harry. 'That's all there is to it.'
Any further discussion was cut off when the door opened. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley came out; both of them had tears in their eyes, but they were smiling. Mrs. Weasley crushed Harry in her arms.
'Oh, Harry,' she whispered, and that seemed to be all she could say. Mr. Weasley gave Harry a quick hug when Harry and Mrs. Weasley broke apart. Harry looked at both of them, and asked the one question he was burning to ask.
'What about...Ginny?'
It was a purely selfish question to ask, and Harry hated himself at once for asking it. Could he not allow the Weasleys a chance for a little celebration? Did he have to go bringing up such a painful subject? The looks on all the Weasleys' faces were suddenly sad.
'I'm sorry,' Harry said quickly.
'It's all right,' said Mr. Weasley. 'Ginny is with Mrs. Tonks. She left about half an hour ago. It's just...too bad she wasn't here when Ron woke up, but...perhaps that's for the best. Ginny needs...some time.'
Harry nodded.
'Well, Harry,' said Mrs. Weasley bracingly, 'I think Ron's more than ready to see you. Only...where's Hermione?'
'She'll be along shortly,' said Lupin, but for a moment, his face twitched. Harry thought about Hermione, and wondered why on earth she wasn't here yet, considering her parents' house had been hooked up to the Floo network. Surely...
'You go on ahead, Harry,' said Mrs. Weasley, giving him a gentle push. 'I'm sure Hermione will be here any minute.'
Harry nodded and headed into Ron's room, closing the door softly behind him, and his heart immediately went into his throat.
Ron was sitting up, taking a tentative sip of water from a glass. Most of his bandages had been either changed or removed altogether, and he now wore a patch over his eye, that made him look like some big, strapping Celtic pirate. His hair was unkempt and a bit too long, hanging in his blue eyes. His skin was pale and his freckles seemed to stand out more starkly against it. But when he saw Harry, his face brightened with a slow grin.
'Hiya, Harry,' he said, in a hoarse voice.
Harry opened his mouth to speak, but no words would come out. He felt like crying again, but this time, the tears that threatened were not tears of despair. Ron was alive. Damaged, perhaps, but alive, and grinning. In that instant Harry's mind retraced every moment he'd shared with Ron, his best mate and the brother he'd never had, and he felt a tear escape and trail down his cheek.
Crikey, when did I turn into such a hosepipe?
'You don't look too happy to see me,' Ron joked, shrugging.
Harry's mouth suddenly broke into a grin, and he wiped the tear away.
'You stupid fuck,' he said, and he crossed the room and pulled Ron into a tight hug.
'Ow,' Ron groaned. 'Shit, Harry, ease up; half my ribs were broken.'
'Shut it,' said Harry, still holding on, and Ron put his arms around Harry. They hugged for a moment, and finally Harry let go of Ron and sat down on the bed beside him.
'Is "stupid fuck" my new nickname?' said Ron, smirking.
'Yeah, get used to it,' said Harry.
Ron put a hand to his chin. 'Hmm,' he mused. 'Well, I've been called worse, I guess.'
'How're you feeling?' Harry asked.
'Sore,' said Ron. 'Everywhere. Tired. You know, the usual when you get totally fucked up in battle.'
Harry bit his lip. 'Don't joke about that,' he said. 'You scared the shit out of us.'
Ron's good eye softened, and then looked sad. 'Where's Hermione?'
'She's on her way,' said Harry, pushing down his own nagging concern at Hermione's whereabouts. Why on earth wasn't she here already? Something hadn't happened to her? Ron looked worried, so Harry immediately made something up to reassure him.
'She's with her parents,' said Harry. 'They're probably trying to spend as much time together as they can. You know.'
Even as he said it, the excuse sounded lame to him. Hermione should be here. She'd said she would come back the minute she heard news of Ron. Harry felt a flash of anger at her. She was the one Ron really wanted to see, so where the hell was she?
'I'm sorry I scared you,' said Ron, as though searching for something to talk about.
'Don't do it again, okay?' said Harry.
'I'll try not to,' said Ron, smiling, but then his face went sad again. 'I don't think I'll be doing anything dangerous, really. Not with...' He indicated his damaged eye.
'Ron, listen--'
'I know what you're going to say, Harry, and the answer is no,' said Ron.
'Dammit, Ron stop being so stubborn,' said Harry.
'I'm a Weasley, it's physically impossible for me not to be stubborn,' Ron retorted.
'And proud,' said Harry, rolling his eyes.
'That, too,' said Ron. He paused, and sighed. 'Look, Harry, I appreciate it. I do. But...but I've been thinking. Maybe it's better this way. Hermione never really wanted me to be an Auror. She never wanted me to do anything dangerous, in fact. And...and I don't want to make her worry, you know?'
'But Ron, being an Auror, that's what you really want, isn't it?' said Harry. 'You've busted your arse these past two years, you've got the marks, you're going to ace the N.E.W.Ts. You'd be a really good Auror and you know it.'
Ron swallowed. 'I know,' he said softly.
Those two words cut Harry to the quick. Ron had never, ever had any confidence in himself. He'd always thought of himself as second best. Ron had long since gotten past his jealousy of Harry; Harry knew that. Ron had long since accepted that Harry was Harry, Harry was famous, Harry would always be in the spotlight. Even with the Head Boy badge, Ron didn't think too highly of himself.
And yet, Ron finally knew he was good at something, something bigger than wizard's chess. He was good at something and he'd gotten that way on his own steam. Even with Hermione's constant nagging and pushing, Ron wouldn't have made it this far unless he'd found the will and the drive to do it, and he had. He was proud of his accomplishments, finally, and with good reason. And now...all that hard work would go to waste. Harry couldn't understand why Ron would settle, why he would relegate himself to a boring desk job when the solution to his problems lay in Harry's vault at Gringott's.
'Ron,' said Harry. 'Come on, mate. Let me help you here, okay? I mean...shit. You saved my life. You saved everyone, you know that?'
'No, I didn't, that was you,' said Ron. 'I wasn't the one who took down Voldemort.'
'I couldn't have done it without you,' said Harry, 'and you know it. Your...your blood...it did save me.'
Ron blushed and looked down at his hands.
'Yeah, well,' he said, shrugging, 'we're mates. You needed it.' He looked up and smiled. 'Don't think I'm going to go getting sliced up for you all the time, though.'
Harry couldn't help but laugh for a moment. Typical Ron, always trying to inject humor into a situation. But then Ron's face became morose again.
'Hermione's still not here,' he said.
'She'll be here,' Harry insisted, silently cursing Hermione with the Bat Bogey Hex. 'Maybe she's just waiting to get you alone.'
Ron shrugged again, and nodded.
'Are you sure, Ron, you won't let me--'
'It's okay, Harry,' said Ron. 'I mean it. This is probably for the best. I mean...if Hermione and I are going have kids someday...it's probably better for me not to be out there doing dangerous stuff, you know?'
Harry pursed his lips. The mention of Ron and Hermione's future was painful to him, if only because it reminded him of his own situation with Ginny.
Don't think about that. This is about Ron now. Be strong for Ron.
Where the hell is Hermione?
'You really have thought about that, haven't you?' said Harry. 'You and Hermione, I mean? Getting married and stuff?'
Ron looked at Harry with his good eye, and said, 'Yeah. I have. A lot. Actually...'
There was a pause, as Ron seemed to struggle with something.
'What?' Harry prodded.
'I had this vision,' said Ron. 'Or a dream. I'm not sure. Actually...it was two visions. Hermione and I were in hospital. Not like this. I mean, we were older...and married.'
He smiled wistfully at this, and Harry found himself unconsciously taking Ron's hand.
'She had a baby,' said Ron, now lost in his vision. He smiled. 'She was on a hospital bed screaming and cursing at me, calling me names...she was scared and in so much pain...I mean, hell, Harry, I'm really glad I'm a bloke, you know, not to have to go through that...and she was squeezing the hell out of my 't feel anything...but she was so brave...I just wish I could have taken a little pain from her, you know? But the Healers, they were calling her Mrs. Weasley...I really liked the sound of it...and...and then the Healer--it was Healer Smethwyck--he said it was a girl. We had a daughter. She was perfect. Red hair, even...and we held her together...and we called her Miranda Jane...'
Harry stared at Ron, as Ron's eyes glazed over with unshed tears.
'When did you see this?' he asked.
'A while ago,' said Ron. 'Well, the first time I saw it, it was just the two of us holding the baby, but...that longer vision...that happened in the Department of Mysteries. I think it must have been after the wall came down on me...I must have been knocked out. But that's all I thought about...I was dead, Harry...I was gone, but I kept seeing that baby...and Hermione...I knew I couldn't go anywhere yet, you know?'
Harry gripped Ron's hand harder. 'I know,' said Harry. 'The Healers said they'd seen anyone fight so hard to survive.'
Ron smiled. 'Yeah, well...' He didn't have to say anything else. Harry let out another breath. Ron had fought everything, every hurt and injury and pain, to come back, to be with Hermione, because he'd known that was where he was supposed to be. Harry felt a wave of envy for Ron, that he could be so sure, that he could know his place in life.
And yet, Hermione still wasn't here.
'Anyway,' said Ron, 'that's...that's sort of why I want to see Hermione. I mean, not just for that, of course, but...I wanted to tell her before, only I couldn't...but I think I could tell her now...only, she's not here...but...I want her to know, she's more important to me than some job, you know? I mean...yeah, being an Auror would be good, but...not as good as...you don't think something's happened to her, do you?'
'She'll be here, Ron,' said Harry firmly, and then he had an idea. 'Do you want me to go check on her? I've been released, I can leave whenever I want.'
'Yeah,' said Ron. 'Do you mind?'
'No,' said Harry. 'I'll go now.'
'Thanks, mate,' said Ron, his eyes glistening again.
Harry hugged him tightly for a moment, and then got up and crossed the room.
'Harry?' said Ron, his voice wavering.
'Yeah?'
'Is this...is this how you felt last year, with Susan?' Ron asked, biting his lip.
Yes. It's exactly how I felt. I'm going to hex Hermione into a million pieces for putting Ron through this.
'She'll be here,' Harry said instead. 'I promise.'
Ron nodded, and suddenly Harry was seized with the urge to find Hermione right then and there, to knock some sense into her for daring to leave Ron like this, wondering where she was, if she was ever going to come to him.
He gave Ron a quick, encouraging grin that he didn't himself feel, and left the room. The Weasleys were all outside, looking anxious. Clearly, Hermione hadn't turned up.
'I'll find her,' said Harry. 'Where's the fireplace?' He didn't think he could Apparate.
'I'll take you,' said Lupin.
Harry stepped out of the Grangers' fireplace, brushing off soot as he went. He realized he'd never been inside this house before--he noted that it had a very new look to it, as if everything had recently been restored, which of course it had.
'Harry!' said Mrs. Granger, startled. 'What on earth--'
'Sorry, Mrs. Granger,' said Harry, 'but I really need to speak with Hermione. It's about Ron.'
'We know,' said Mrs. Granger. 'He's awake.'
Harry let out a frustrated sigh. 'Why hasn't Hermione come to hospital?'
'I don't know, Harry,' said Mrs. Granger heavily. 'She got the news from Tonks and just...closed up. Tonks offered to take her right then and there, but she said she needed time to get ready.'
'Is she here?'
'In her room,' said Mrs. Granger. 'Can you speak with her, Harry? I...well, I know she really cares for Ron, but she's just so upset, and her father and I can't seem to get through to her. Warren had to go into the office...her door is second on the right.'
'I'll go,' said Harry, and he headed up the stairs with determined, angry strides. Quite honestly, he didn't care if Hermione was upset. Ron needed her, and she was ignoring him. It was unthinkable. It was wrong.
Just because my love life is shot to hell, just because Ginny and I can't...that doesn't mean Ron and Hermione are going to fall apart, too. I'm not going to let that happen.
He knocked sharply on Hermione's door.
'Not now, Mum,' came a tired, strained voice. Harry snorted to himself and tried the knob, but it didn't budge. He clenched his teeth. He had no wand now, but he realized he didn't need it, nor did he care if what he was about to do broke a million Ministry laws.
'Alohomora!' he snapped, and the door clicked open.
'Harry!' said Hermione indignantly when he barged into her room. She was sitting on her bed holding a pillow to her chest, her legs under the covers. 'What are you doing?'
'Looking for you,' said Harry hotly. 'What the hell is going on, Hermione? Ron's been awake for an hour, he's asking for you--no, he's about to bloody cry because you're not there.'
Hermione started to protest, but then her chin began to tremble. She didn't get up.
'I can't go see him,' she whispered.
Harry's anger at her only increased. He shut the door behind him, keen not to let Mrs. Granger hear what he was about to say to her only daughter.
'Don't,' he growled, struggling to keep his fury in check. 'Don't you dare do this to him, Hermione. Don't you fucking dare cop out the way Susan did to me!'
'I...I'm not!' Hermione protested, the tears falling from her eyes.
'Then why haven't you gone to see him?' Harry demanded, crossing to her bed and leaning forward, putting his hands on either side of her, trapping her. 'If you leave him, Hermione, after everything he's been through...if you break his heart...'
'Harry, please,' Hermione begged, and she buried her face in the pillow she held. 'You don't understand.'
Harry brutally yanked the pillow away from her. 'Bullshit,' he said. 'Look at me. You tell me why, Hermione. Tell me why I've had to make excuses to Ron for you.'
'I'm...I'm ashamed...' she whispered.
This revelation was news to Harry. He'd expected her to make some lame excuse. He hadn't actually expected the truth.
'Of what?' he asked incredulously.
'My leg,' she said, and she shifted and yanked back the covers. She was wearing shorts, which revealed both legs. The left one was wrapped in a loose bandage, which she opened.
'Look at it,' she whimpered. 'It's disgusting.'
The flesh of her left thigh was puckered and scarred and shiny with burn salve.
Harry swallowed a small wave of revulsion, but couldn't help the simultaneous wave of pity. He looked up at her, and she was crying silently, and suddenly he tried to comfort her.
'Ron won't care about that,' he insisted. 'You know he won't. He's mad for you Hermione, he loves you.'
'I know,' she whispered, and then Harry knew she wasn't telling him everything.
'Your leg's not the only reason,' said Harry. 'In fact, it's not the reason at all, is it?'
Hermione hesitated, but then she shook her head.
'What is it?' Harry asked, no longer angry, so much as desperate. 'You're...you haven't...fallen out of love with him, have you?'
'No!' Hermione cried, and her chin began to shake again. 'That's not it...I love him so much, Harry, it scares me. When I thought he was dead--'
'He didn't die, Hermione,' Harry interjected. 'He's alive, he's here. And he wants to see you. If you love him so much why aren't you with him?'
'I'm ashamed,' she repeated.
'Don't give me that--'
'I'm ashamed,' she said, 'because I was glad.'
'Glad?' Harry said, now confused. 'You're ashamed of being glad Ron's alive?'
'No!' Hermione snapped. 'I was glad that his eye got all messed up, okay? I was glad, because it meant there was no way he could be an Auror! Don't you get it, Harry? I don't want him to be an Auror! I don't want him risking himself like that all the time. I was glad when the Healers said his eye was damaged!' She shoved Harry back and climbed from her bed, wincing as she put weight on her damaged leg.
'How can I look at him?' she asked. 'He'll know. He'll know I'm happy he can't be an Auror.'
'He can be an Auror, Hermione,' Harry protested. 'He can. He just needs a new eye. His family can't afford it but I can!'
'I don't want him to get a new eye!' Hermione sobbed. 'I just want...I just want him here, and safe and not doing anything heroic...'
She broke down. Harry was tempted, for a moment, to leave her there. Let her hurt as much as Ron was hurting, wondering where she was, wondering, no doubt, whether she still loved him. But the sight of her looking so desperate pierced Harry's heart, and he got up and pulled her into his arms.
'It's okay,' he whispered against her frizzy hair.
'It's not,' Hermione said. 'I don't know how I can even look at him. I don't want him to be an Auror, Harry.'
'What about what he wants?' said Harry, stepping back from her and gripping her shoulders. 'You would let him give up something he's worked so hard for? He's never believed in himself until now, and you know it. You'd let him give that up, just to make you feel a bit better?'
'That's just it,' said Hermione. 'I can't make him give it up. That's what kills me. I don't know what to do.'
Harry saw the conflict in her eyes, and he knew it at once: it was the same expression Susan had given him, in the moments before she'd broken up with him, and broken his heart.
No. I can't let Hermione do this to Ron.
'Hermione,' said Harry, in a strangled voice, 'Ron would give up being an Auror for you. He told me he would. I offered to get him that new eye and he wouldn't accept it, because of you. But that's not the only thing he said. He...he told me something and maybe you shouldn't hear this from me but...fine. You'll hear it from me. He had a couple of visions about you. You and him. One of them he had a while ago, but another one--he had it that night at the Ministry, when he was out...it was before he...he stopped breathing, I guess...'
'What sort of vision?' said Hermione tearfully.
'A good one,' said Harry fiercely. 'A really, really good one, Hermione. He saw you and him in hospital, and you...you were having his baby. You were married and you gave birth to his baby and he was right there the whole time...'
Hermione's face went white, and her eyes turned to saucers.
'We...we had a baby?' she said. 'We were married?'
'Yes,' said Harry, struggling to remember the details of Ron's dream or vision or whatever it was. 'A baby girl. She had red hair...you called her...Miranda Jane, I think...'
Hermione put a hand over her mouth and gave a sob. 'Oh, my god...' she whispered. 'Why didn't he tell me?'
'I don't know,' said Harry. 'He said he tried to a couple of times, but--'
'He did,' said Hermione, her eyes widening again. 'Two nights ago, right before he stopped breathing...he must have been trying to tell me...oh, god...and one time...'
'One time what?'
'He told me he'd always fight like hell to get back to me,' she said, more tears leaking from her eyes.
'That's it, then,' said Harry, his own eyes burning, his heart aching. 'He fought to survive for you, so you two could have a future together. And maybe that's why Fawkes came. Because Fawkes knew I needed him to come, and save Ron's life.'
'I can't make him give up being an Auror,' Hermione whimpered.
'Then don't,' said Harry. 'Ron knows what's at stake, Hermione. He doesn't want to die, he doesn't want to be reckless anymore. You should have seen him, Hermione. You're the thing he wants, more than anything; he'd take a desk job in a heartbeat if you asked him to, but...but I don't think he deserves that. And I know you don't. He's wanted this forever. Don't make him give it up. You know damn well he'd never stand in your way. He might argue with you but he'd never stand in your way.'
Hermione gave another sob. 'I know,' she said. 'I know.'
'Come with me to hospital,' Harry urged, taking her hands in his. 'Please. Please just be there for him. He needs you, and you need him.'
Hermione let out yet another sob, nodded, and collapsed against Harry's chest. Harry clutched her tightly.
'I'm sorry...' she whispered. 'I'm so sorry...'
'Tell Ron,' said Harry.
She pulled back, and nodded, wiping her eyes. 'I'm ready to go,' she said. 'I just...I want to change into jeans.'
Harry nodded.
'I'll wait outside.'
'Wait,' said Hermione. 'Harry...before we go to St. Mungo's...I want...I want to stop somewhere first.'
'Hermione,' Harry warned.
'I want to stop at Gringott's,' she said, before he could start in on her.
'Gringott's?' said Harry, and then he understood, and he felt a small part of the weight on his chest ease, and a surge of warmth for the girl who'd come to be like a sister to him. 'Okay, we'll go to Gringott's first.'
They Flooed back to St. Mungo's. Hermione was struggling to keep herself together, and she wouldn't let go of Harry's hand as they walked down the corridor to Ron's room. A faint clanking issued from her jacket pocket with every step she took.
The corridor was empty now; the Weasleys must have gone home, or perhaps they'd gone to the tea shop. Harry peeked into Ron's room and saw him sleeping.
'Should we wake him?' Hermione asked.
'Yes,' said Harry. 'Come on, Hermione, don't chicken out now.'
Hermione nodded quickly, but then she grabbed his arm as he started to open the door to room 109.
'I don't know what I'm going to say to him,' she said.
'Hermione,' said Harry, giving her a look. 'Come on. He's waited long enough.'
She nodded again, and let him open the door; Harry could feel how tense she was. She seemed half-ready to flee, and he gripped her hand more tightly as they came towards Ron's bed.
Hermione made a soft sound and bit her lip.
'It's okay,' Harry whispered, but then she let go of his hand.
'I just need...to stand here,' she said. Harry gave her another look. 'I'm not going anywhere, I promise,' she added.
'I'm going to wake him up,' said Harry. 'You'd better not move.'
Hermione nodded yet again, her frizzy hair bobbing, as Harry gently prodded Ron in the shoulder.
'Ron, mate, wake up,' he said.
Ron moaned and shifted in his sleep, but and Harry couldn't help but smile and shake his head.
'Typical,' he muttered, and Hermione stifled a giggle.
The giggle, Harry decided, was a very good sign.
'Ron, wake up!' Harry said, loudly. 'Someone's here to see you.'
Ron groaned and muttered, 'Jeez, Harry, I'm trying to...'
As his blue eyes fluttered open, Ron's mouth stopped moving. His eyes were fixed on Hermione.
For a moment, neither of them said a word. Harry tensed. What if Hermione fled? Ron pulled himself into a sitting position, his eyes still locked with Hermione's.
'Hi,' he said.
'Hi,' she said.
Both of them suddenly seemed to have trouble breathing; both opened their mouths to speak. Hermione's eyes welled up; so did Ron's.
Harry stepped back from the bed as the dam broke. Hermione leapt forward and crashed into Ron, who stifled a groan of pain and threw his arms around her. She sobbed freely into his chest and he held onto her for dear life.
Harry watched them and felt a squeezing in his heart, and the inevitable jealousy that erupted from watching his two best friends share something that he himself knew he couldn't have with Ginny. Not now, and perhaps never again. All Harry had to sustain him was the memory of holding Ginny like that, like he'd never let go.
He swallowed against yet another lump in his throat, and knew he had to leave. This was what he wanted for Ron and Hermione--for them to stay together, to be together--and yet it pierced his heart to see it.
'I'll leave you guys alone,' he said, but he was sure neither Ron nor Hermione really heard him. He backed away from Ron's bed and started from the room, telling himself that he wouldn't cry, that he was sick of crying, he was turning into a bloody girl, with all this crying.
'Harry,' Ron called. Harry stopped and looked back. Hermione was still in Ron's arms, but they were both facing him. Both had tears on their cheeks.
'Thanks,' said Ron, and Hermione smiled at him. Harry forced himself to smile back.
'Any time,' he said. He waited until they hugged again, until they stopped looking at him, to make his escape.
He found the nearest loo and shut himself into a cubicle, and cried for what felt like the hundredth time in as many hours.
A/N: I was going to split this one into two chapters but I decided to spare everyone the agony of a cliffhanger for Ron and Hermione. As such, there will be one more chapter--probably quite long--and an epilogue.
I know many of you will protest my decision regarding Harry and Ginny, but this is simply how things had to go. Harry and Ginny are not the same people as Ron and Hermione; they can't have the same ending as Ron and Hermione. Both Harry and Ginny have tremendous baggage that they must work through, but after the trauma of that final battle, and Ginny's kidnapping, they can't work through it together. They must go their separate ways and heal on their own before they can ever be together in a way that is healthy and happy.
The next chapter will answer what I am sure are a lot of open questions. We will learn about Draco and his father; about how George is doing--I left him out of this chapter on purpose, in case anyone was wondering; about Harry's plans; and of course, about what's been happening at the school, and what's going on with the other students. Please note that a few things will be left open-ended. I have done this to allow myself the option--an option I have absolutely no plans to explore in the immediate future, mind you--of possibly doing a sequel to this story sometime down the road. Given the energy and time and mental stress this story has brought, I am not going to make any promises about a sequel, but if one does happen, it won't be for a while. I will need to step away from this universe and, I don't know, write something happy and fluffy for a change.
My hearty thanks, as always, to lina, whose advice I hold in the highest esteem, and to Buckbeaky, who kept this story alive over the summer. Both betas have just been invaluable to me, and I can never really repay them for their help. Thanks, also, to MissBrooke06 for the title suggestion.