Disclaimer: I may own copies of JK Rowling's books but alas I do not own the characters in them. The only thing to my name is this fluffy plot bunny.
A firm hand dabbed her forehead with a cold compress. Instinctively, Hermione moved her hand through the fog around her to swipe it away. Her subconscious had instilled in her the reflexes to reject all touch, realizing vaguely after awhile who was doing the touching. Most of the time such behavior earned her a muttered curse with a swift slap, yet this time only the motherly click of the tongue.
Confused by the new reaction, Hermione's brain clumsily grasped through the thinning haze that either the person was different or the place was. Or both. Thoughts started to arrive at a much faster pace than before. It was as if she was surfacing from a deep dive and taking her first breath. Sounds began to filter in. A chair scraping as it was dragged across the floor. The swish of fabric as the person left her side. Hurried whispered voices across the room. Familiar voices, Hermione's mind cried with a joy she had not felt in ages.
With a start, Hermione did something she had not been able to do for quite sometime. She properly opened her eyes and saw the world around her.
The sound of a body crinkling sheets alerted the rest of the room's occupants to the awakened patient. Both a man and woman rushed around the crisp white divider curtain to Hermione's bedside. The old man, who Hermione instantly recognized as Dumbledore and felt her heart lift at the sight, studied her with a slightly grim expression, causing the good feeling to falter. Madam Pomfrey, unmistakable with her bun and already overbearing nature, did not waste time with looks, but instead launched into questions.
"How are you feeling, Miss Granger?" Before an answer could be given, the nurse put her hand to Hermione's forehead and then promptly began taking her pulse. Hermione found her voice none to eager to be of any use. She struggled to force any sound from her dry throat. Panicking a bit, she pointed to her mouth then made a motion to demonstrate drinking. Madam Pomfrey understood the gist of it and handed Hermione a glass of water from the side table. She proceeded to gulp the entire thing down, suddenly feeling her thirst and hunger return. The now empty glass returned to its former spot and two pairs of eyes looked on expectantly.
"I'm feeling a bit sore and hungry but I don't think I'm dire," Hermione said hoarsely. Her mind, now fully functioning, whirled and spun in a frenzied activity. How had she ended up in the Hospital Wing with Professor Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey both looking like the she was going to burst apart at any second? She shook her head, attempting to organize the thoughts running rampant. Why were all her memories so blurred and hazed? Hermione raised her eyes to look at both of them, it being her turn to look expectant.
"Some food for the girl, Poppy," Dumbledore said. He almost seemed to be avoiding her gaze. As Pomfrey walked off behind the curtain and out sight, Dumbledore took the seat next to Hermione's bed. A tired, haunted look in his stunning blue eyes gave away the feeling behind the calm face laid before Hermione.
"Professor?" she inquired gently.
"Miss Granger," he began, pausing to stroke his beard then gave her a softened look before continuing, "no doubt that you are more than a little confused at waking here. Even I am lost as to the precise reason for what has happened."
Dumbledore stopped to look at her, giving her a chance to add anything. A word or phrase to help explain the mystery that had unfolded before them. Hermione bit her lower lip and quickly went through the mess that had once been her brain.
"I-...I can't really remember much... everything is so clouded. I do recall there were hands th-that took care of me, but I didn't see anything," she stopped and bit her lip a bit harder than she meant to. The pain aroused a deep memory, one that had been carefully cloaked. Chanting voices, numbing cold, and the burst of pain. Hermione's hands instantly went to her abdomen where the hot force had been the worse. Pressing down slightly, she noticed that it felt a little hard underneath her skin. Her eyes flew back to Dumbledore's, their cinnamon irises wide and searching.
His face seemed to become more lined as he sighed and said softly, "Yes, Miss Granger, I'm afraid...you're pregnant."