Reawakening
It was one of those moments that Harry wished that he could simply forget. It was one of those times so painful that Harry felt as though he would die if he had to relive it. But he couldn't forget as it plays over and over, time and time again in the deepest corners of his conscience. He was guilty.
He could still see quite clearly, those dark brown eyes, shining brightly, sending him a brief, precious, and intimate message of cheerfulness and delight, before widening in a horrible shock, and fluttered shut. He could still see her fierce expression during their battle against the Death Eaters, her anger visible, her determination palpable. Colorful spells flashed in every direction; the Death Eater had sent Harry and himself plummeting towards the hard wooden floor, with both of their wands, flying towards the other side of the room, leaving them bare and defenseless against each other.
He fought bravely against the Death Eater, trying to reach his weapon before his attacker reached his own. It was no use. The Death Eater was older, stronger, faster, and closer to their destination. At that moment, he had given up all hope. It was then, he felt his passion cooling and a sinking feeling of dejection settling decidedly in his stomach.
The other Death Eater had reached his wand; he raised his wand at Harry. Harry closed his eyes, knowing that his death was imminent; it was no use. He had tried, and failed. He lunged forward, hiding like the true hero he was, behind a desk, awaiting his punishment. Shame flowed through him, along with fear, as he grudgingly admitted. He had lost his weapon, his pride, now his freedom, and eventually, his life.
"STUP—" he heard the Death Eater yell gleefully, before collapsing heavily onto the floor like a petrified stone tablet.
Harry looked up in wonder and saw her with her wand arm raised high, her countenance firm and determined. Her tangled heedful of brown bushy hair tossed wildly about her head. She panted slightly, with her chest heaving and her cheeks flushing from running. Her dark brown eyes, reflecting the bright light from the ceiling, shined at him with blatant relief. Her lips curled into a small smile, almost smirking at his bemused and grateful expression.
"Accio Wand!" she flicked her wand gracefully.
His wand flew easily into her waiting hand.
She tossed his wand to him. "Thanks…"
He looked into her eyes briefly before looking away sheepishly with embarrassment, "Let's get out of here…"
They ran as if their lives depended on it; at that moment, they did. He slammed into a door, ushering them in and shut the door firmly behind. Synchronizing his movement, Hermione raised her wand yet again, prepared to conjure a clever sealing charm until the Death Eaters burst into the room, and sent them flying forcefully into the wall with a well-aimed impedimenta curse. The back of Harry's head slammed into the stone wall behind him, tiny lights burst in front of his eyes, and for one moment he was too dizzy and bewildered to react.
"WE'VE GOT HIM!" Harry heard one of the Death Eater's yell.
"IN AN OFFICE OFF—" before a flash of light flew by Harry's eyes, and the Death Eater was silenced abruptly.
Confused and disoriented, Harry looked towards the direction of the light. His vision landed on a smashed bookcase and saw Hermione already on her feet, with her wand held confidently before her, and her hardened gaze penetrating the silenced Death Eater. The Death Eater continued to mouth through the hole in his mask, but no sound came out; he was thrust aside by his fellow, who from Harry's perspective, glared at Hermione with a murderous glint in his eyes. The Death Eater trained his wand at Hermione—
"Petrificus Totalus" Harry roared in anger, shocking everyone around him as well as himself with his stunning speed and agility.
The second Death Eater's arms and legs snapped together and he fell forward, facedown onto the rug at Harry's feet, stiff as a board and unable to move at all.
He looked at her again, with the same smile and smirk she had given him before. They were even now. They had saved each other's lives too many times before to count. Yet each time, the lingering gratitude and pride cultivated something between them, something mysterious and untouchable—something fascinating yet cryptic.
He felt this feeling build inside his chest as she flashed that special smile of gratefulness and pride, as if he had been longing for her smile all this time. Everything had been worth it. For a brief moment, he had forgotten his guilt, his burdens, his purpose, and his current surroundings. He was completely captivated by her smile and the aura that had enveloped him.
"Well done, Ha—"
He heard her say as he leaned forward, hoping to capture every word in the compliment she was about to give him. She never finished her sentence, as a jet of bright purple light slashed across her chest. Her deep brown eyes, which moments before had been trained into his, widened in fear. Her smile disappeared abruptly replaced by a small "oh" of surprise as she fell, collapsing slowly before his very eyes.
He stood there, watching her sink onto the floor, her eyes dulled and fluttered shut. He watched stolidly, as her robes billow out away from her slender form. She was still; her eyes shut seamlessly; her mangled hair formed a halo around her pale face. Her lips lost their color, and her cheeks were ashen white. The room darkened, as Harry shivered internally, as if the room had suddenly became a few degrees cooler.
"HERMIONE!"
He felt himself scream as his throat constricted painfully. He too collapsed onto the floor, falling with a dull thud onto his knees. The pain crawled steadily up his legs, but he couldn't possibly care less. If fact, at that moment, nothing mattered anymore. All had been lost.
He kneeled by her, afraid to touch her, afraid to even look at her properly.
Please don't let her be dead, don't let her be dead….
He repeated to himself in his mind. A whine of panic inside his head was preventing him from thinking properly.
Don't let her be dead, don't let her be dead…it's my fault if she's dead…don't let her be dead…don't let her….don't….don't…….
He stood before her bed, watching her sleep as her breath rise and fall steadily.
It has been three days and four nights since the incident. Every single night, as he lay alone in his four-poster bed, his mind becomes clouded by the images of her—her fierce expression where she's battling, the way she cleverly flickers her wand, her sweet and infectious smile, her deep magnificent dark brown eyes smoldering into his…the way she looked at him when he performed the body-binding spell…the way her mouth formed that small "oh" before she flutters lightly onto the floor.
He would always jerk awake from his unsettling sleep, with cold sweat sheathing his face, chest, and back. Night after night, it had been the same.
On this particular night, after another intense recollection of the incident, he had decided against going back to sleep. Instead, he leaped from his bed, grabbed his invisibility cloak from his trunk, and rushed towards the hospital wing with vigor he never knew he possessed.
He had to see her again.
The others had one by one began to recover from their injuries. He, Neville, Luna and Ginny had returned to their dormitories after a thorough check up by Madam Pomfrey. Ron after arguing fiercely with Madam Pomfrey was allowed to leave the hospital wing that prior morning. Only, Hermione…his Hermione, had remained still and motionless on her bed, without a sign of improvement.
Madam Pomfrey had reassured him repeatedly that "Miss Granger is in the process of recovery and would soon be able to reawaken."
But Harry knew otherwise. He had noticed the tension and anxiety on Madam Pomfrey's face when she thought no one was looking. Dumbledore and McGonagall too, had become regular visitors in the hospital ward, other than Harry himself of course.
As he stood before her in his invisibility cloak, he thought of nothing but her, hoping that she will recover…hoping that she will be able to open her beautiful brown eyes again…and look into his own…He lifted his hand slowly and lightly touched her hand. Her skin was so pale, so soft, and so smooth. He rubbed her palm slowly, relishing the fact that he was holding her hand for the first time, and perhaps the only time. Her forehead crinkled slightly…(or was it his imagination?)…
Her nose scrunched up as she took a deep breath of air. Her eyelids fluttered…(no, it was definitely not his imagination). Surprised, he immediately released her hand, and stood still, hoping to avoid an awkward confrontation. Her eyes opened slowly as she gazed into the empty air above her as if she can see through his cloak. Her hand caught his retreating one, and she smiled slightly. He blushed, grateful all of the sudden for his father's invisibility cloak.
"Harry?" She murmured softly.
He stood frozen, gazing at her with a sort of incredible joy and lightheartedness he hadn't felt for ages. With her right hand still holding his, she lifted her left hand and gently clasped the front of his cloak.
Slowly and deliberately, she lifted the silvery material away from his body. His messy hair protruded from the cloak, then his head emerged, followed by his torso, his arms, his chest, and his legs. The silvery cloak landed gracefully and pooled around his feet.
His emerald green orbs reached her deep amber brown eyes once again. He stood motionless, his eyes trained onto her own, her hand enveloped in his. He swallowed painfully, not knowing what to say. She too gazed at him in a look of wonder and delight. She smiled slowly, to which he returned with equal fervor. They seemed to have reached an understanding without words. Together, they held each other, neither willing to let go.
As she lay quietly on her bed, he stood before her like a guardian, shielding her from their plethora of worries and burdens. For once, just for one moment, he wanted to experience the inner peace that he had been seeking, for as long as he could remember; and he realized that being with her, he found it.
fin