Disclaimer: Don't own a damn thing.

EPILOGUE

Somewhere, someone was hammering a nail in. Repeatedly. They must be missing the nail quite a bit, because the hammering went on for far longer than was strictly necessary if they were a good carpenter. She made up her mind that she would get up and go tell them to stop making such a racket and let her sleep, but when she opened her eyes to the glaring white of the hospital wing, she decided that maybe she'd rather lie there for awhile. At her groan, however, a group of people sitting in chairs near the wall all shot out of their seats.

The first face she saw staring down at her was Ron's, looking both furious and relieved at the same time.

"You twit," he said affectionately, "Why didn't you tell us it was that dangerous?"

"Well," she managed to get out, "You'd never have let me carry on, would you?"

"Of course not!"

"Well, then," she said, and promptly passed out again.

When she came round again, her headache had subsided somewhat, and she was able to smile at Professor Dumbledore. "How long have I been asleep?"

"You were in a coma for three weeks," he said solemnly.

She sat straight up, and immediately regretted it. "Three weeks! I've missed the beginning of school!"

"Lie down, Miss Granger," he told her, "We have made allowances, and you will be able to catch up on the work. The Deputy Head Girl, Padma Patil, is not quite as good as we had anticipated you would be," here he winced, "but you will be able to take on that mantle of responsibility by the time you are fully recovered."

She had to ask. "Um...sir?"

"Yes?"

"Why did I...?"

"Why did you survive?"

"Well, yes, sir."

"That," he said, polishing his glasses, "is a very interesting question. I presume that it is because the Temporal you were working with decided that he did not want the price that he had initially demanded."

She was confused. "Why was that, sir?"

He smiled. "He probably took a liking to you."

As her eyebrows shot up into her hair, he continued, "You will be moved to the school infirmary from this hospital in a few days, and will have to remain in the infirmary for a week. After that, you may begin to move around and resume your schooling."

Her expression stricken, she protested, "A whole week! I'll fall even more behind! I'll be a month behind! And we've got the N.E.W.T.s this year!"

He chuckled. "I'm sure, Miss Granger, that you'll make it up."

Arriving at the school infirmary had been like a homecoming. While her friends had been allowed to visit the hospital via Floo Powder over weekends, they had yet to see her while she was awake and coherent. Ron's greeting was, to understate it, exuberant. Harry's and Ginny's were only shades less so, and Madam Pomfrey had to take a very stern line with the visitors to prevent the infirmary from turning into a party zone. No matter how she pleaded with him, Ron stolidly refused to bring her homework to do.

"Look," she said, "I've got to get caught up."

"Not yet, you don't," he said implacably, and Harry hid a grin.

"Ron," she said, "I'm going to get angry in a minute."

"Okay," he agreed, and she turned to Harry in mute supplication.

"Oh no, you're on your own," he said, smiling. "I'm too happy you're alive to risk you on overexerting yourself now. You need to take better care of yourself, 'Mione."

"Exactly," Ron growled. Harry wasn't fooled by his gruff demeanor, however--the weeks that Hermione had been in a coma, he'd walked around school like a ghost, and was off to the hospital every Friday afternoon like a shot. Even Quidditch practice had been postponed.

"So," Hermione said, "Did Professor Dumbledore get back from meeting with the leader of the Temporals, yet?"

"Yeah," Harry grinned, "And they've agreed to help stop any of Voldemort's time travelers from changing history or anything. They want to get their people back from slavery as much as we want to stop him--so, common enemy, common cause."

"Good," she smiled, "I'm glad some good came of our little junket into time."

"Oh," Harry said softly, watching Ginny's face as she looked out of the window, "I think plenty good came out of it."

Ron made a face at Harry. "Sop."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"That is to say--well, I should probably get to class, now, shouldn't I?"

"Probably," she laughed. "You too, Harry, Ginny. I'll see you later." They ignored her parting, "Bring me homework!"

"I had a dream last night," Harry said quietly.

Ginny turned to look at him sharply. "About what?"

"Voldemort. I dreamt...never mind."

"No, tell me."

Reluctantly, "I dreamt that he killed everyone. All of you. It was horrible."

She gave him a wry smile.

"I've had that dream too, I think."

"Yeah?"

"Uh huh. But I guess we'll just have to make sure it never happens."

"Yeah," he said quietly, fingering his scar, "I guess we will."

A/N (finally): It's over! manic tap dance of glee First and foremost, an abundance of thanks to my two wonderful beta readers, both the official (Zsenya) and the unofficial (my mother, who hates fanfiction but proofread this anyway). Secondly, thanks to everyone who's reviewed and read the story and is bothering to read this right now. Thirdly, I need opinions--to write this, I sketched out an idea of what would happen in the fifth and sixth years (this one is seventh year). For those of you wondering about Prof. Silverleaf and the Elementals, she's around in my sixth year prequel that I used to have plotted out in my head--my question to all of you is, if I were to write that story (bearing in mind that it might take a while), would you be interested in reading it? Once again, thanks for reading!