Title: Somebody Out There (9/15)
Author: silverphoenix
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Summary: In the middle of a war, there are going to be casualties. This is inevitable. When two people lose their friends, they come to realise that death is not the end of happiness.


SOMEBODY OUT THERE
Part Nine: Anything

When you are training to be an Auror, injuries are inevitable. Those who are lucky - or unlucky as they may joke - enough to make it into the training are actually given a tour of St. Mungo's during their first week. By the end of their first year of training, they are on a first name basis with many of the Healers.

"Thanks, Mel," Hermione said, gratefully taking the scalding hot mug of tea from the Healer who was tending to Blaise. He was still unconscious.

"Are you actually going to go home tonight?" Mel asked; Hermione had long since dispensed with calling her Healer Moon.

"Tonight?" Hermione was confused, pushing back the sleeve of her robes to view her watch and slopping tea on the floor. Mel sighed, and with a wave of her wand, the offending liquid was gone. "I didn't realise what the time was. Are you going to kick me out?"

"Not until you've finished your tea. I've got a couple of other patients to check up on - I'll be back in a few minutes." She closed the curtain behind her as she left and Hermione turned back to Blaise, taking a sip of her tea.

"You know," she informed him, "if I'm moody in the morning because of my lack of sleep, I'm going to be blaming you." She watched as he shifted in his magically induced sleep, turning towards the window. His eyes flicked beneath their lids, and Hermione reached over to brush his dark hair from his eyes.

"I'm watching you dream, Blaise," she whispered to him. "Are you dreaming of me?" She paused; he was not going to wake until Healer Moon viewed his injuries as adequately healed. It was doubtful that he was listening to her.

"I'd do anything for you." She cradled her mug in her hands: they were trembling. "Whatever it takes, whatever you need. I'll be there." Setting her mug down on the table, Hermione rose from her chair and sat on his bed, taking his hand in hers. "You do realise that I'm right here in front of you, don't you? Why can't you see that you're all that matters to me anymore?"

It was not until a tear fell on her hand, wet and warm, that she realised she was crying. "You're my rock, but I'm still waiting for you to let me inside; to let me be yours and catch you if you fall."

"Are you in love with me?" she asked his sleeping form, knowing and glad that he could not reply. "Sometimes I think you are - the way you look at me, the way that when we hug, you hold on for just a moment more than is necessary."

"You talk about fate, Blaise. Do you think we were fated to be together? Am I the one thing meant for you and you for me? Is this love that I feel for you, Blaise? Because if it is, I'm terrified."