Awakening

(Technical issues, so I'm re-posting this one)

A/N: Hello everybody! First of all, thank you for those amazing reviews... I wish I could tell you how happy I am that you like this story. I'd like to apologize for the delay in this chapter; my computer broke down because of a virus (I almost have a fit!). But here's the chapter, so... Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Alas, no... Just the plot.

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They were dead, they were dead…

Both of them were gone, gone, sucked by the Veil, and they had all allowed Sirius to fall into that limbo again. If only they hadn't said anything, if only he had never mentioned that black book!

It was his fault... There was no one else to blame but himself, he knew.

Dead, dead, dead; he'd never see Sirius again! He should have looked for Hermione, he should have talked Sirius out of it; goodness, how could he have been so selfish? Kill me, kill me too, I don't want to be alive anymore...

"Harry... Harry."

The whisper could barely reach his acknowledgement; the words had to fight and push aside the loud and relentless voices inside his head... The hand on his shoulder squeezed.

"Look, mate, look!"

Still trying to decide if his eyes were blurry because of the tears or the dizziness he was experiencing, Harry slowly looked up to the dais and saw... Saw... Them. He saw- They were there. Lupin, he was- he was kneeling next to the crumpled figure of Sirius, and there was another limp figure lying next to him. Was that...? But how could they be there, after the deadline? They were both unconscious, that was for sure.

Harry's eye twitched involuntarily, and then... Well, he never was quite sure of how it had happened, really. Maybe he ran towards them, or jumped, or fell down the benches (that could explain the pain on his chest); fact was that Harry suddenly found himself, breathless, staring into the face of his godfather. Harry touched Sirius's shoulder and shakily grinned; Harry didn't even know how he was feeling. He was torn between incommensurable happiness and deep shock, or disbelief. With his jaw open he turned to gaze at Lupin, who was also grinning.

Harry, swallowing, let his eyes fall on the other person lying next to Sirius, and felt the air shorten in his lungs. Hermione's face was just as he remembered it... She was much paler now, and her long, curly hair was messily strewn all around her head. She looked so fragile... Harry's trembling hand reached out to grab hers, and his eyes blurred when he felt her soft skin against his again- Hermione was there, right in front of him... Somewhere behind him Ron and Lupin were talking, but he paid no heed to their voices.

Harry gently left her hand on the floor and moved forwards to grab her shoulders, hoisting her up gently, and hugged her tightly. He knew that she wouldn't return the embrace, but he didn't care. Her skin was cold, but it was there; her head touching his tear strained cheek. Even if he had tried, Harry would never be able to describe what he had felt during those precious minutes in which he held her again. He didn't want to let her go, for he feared that she would fade into thin air and leave him again...

"Harry," A hoarse voice broke his train of thought, and he closed his eyes as if it could prevent him from hearing anything. "Harry, we must take them to St. Mungos," The voice Harry recognized as Ron's told him.

"No," Harry whispered. He didn't know why he was feeling the way he was feeling, but he did know that he didn't want to lose sight of Hermione again.

"We must," Another voice, this time Lupin's, retorted. "I promise you'll get to see them again, Harry, but we can't stay here." Harry looked up with a scowl and noticed Lupin's distressed semblance.

"Are they okay?" Ron asked, also noticing the look on their old professor too.

"I don't know," Lupin said barely above a whisper. "They should be awake," he added. Harry's overwhelmed brain didn't want to register what could that mean, no, not yet. He was still waiting to wake up, truth to be told.

"What about Sirius?" Harry managed to ask, still cradling Hermione in his arms. Lupin sighed.

"We have to go, Harry, come on-"

"What's wrong with him?" Harry cut him off loudly. Lupin didn't answer as he turned around and took out his wand, muttering the Mobilicorpus to lift Sirius's inanimate body into the air. Harry, still unconvinced of leaving that place, lifted Hermione in his arms like he had done when she had had the overdose, and started walking behind Lupin in silence, with Ron after him.

--

The mediwizard looked at them sternly through his glasses, frowning. He was no stranger when it came to bizarre spells, unusual rarities and every weird occurrence that came with working in St. Mungos, but it could be said that this escaped his field of expertise. A red eyed Harry Potter was holding the body of a girl which looked strangely familiar, and another man was levitating the infamous Sirius Black, while a freckled boy who looked on the edge of hysteria stared imploringly at him. "What exactly happened?" The mediwizard asked again.

"They returned from the Veil, the Veil in the Department of Mysteries," the freckled boy said.

"What Veil? I'm not an Unspeakable," The wizard replied dryly.

"It's not that complicated!" Harry Potter suddenly snapped. "The Veil is supposed to act like a sort of limbo. My best friend threw herself through it, and my godfather threw himself in, and he drank a special potion, so he could bring her back," Harry explained.

"And that's not complicated?"

"Look, could you just do your job and see what's wrong with them?" Harry asked angrily. Lupin threw Harry a warning look.

"You see, they should be awake," Lupin said, looking back at the doctor. "Neither of them responds, and they're cold," he added. The mediwizard raised his chin as he examined Sirius, and he nodded.

"We'll take them to the third floor, since they were... er... brought back by a potion," the mediwizard said, beckoning two other mediwizards with his index finger, "while we take them there, would you mind explaining this to me with some more detail?" He asked Lupin, who nodded as he lowered Sirius into the stretcher one of the mediwizards had conjured.

"Sir, I'll need you to place her on the stretcher-"

"I'll carry her there, okay?" Harry retorted with a frown, tightening his grip on Hermione's body on reflex. Ron put his hand over Harry's shoulder, biting his lower lip.

"We'll see her later, mate... As you so rightly said, let them to their job," he told him in a low voice. Harry opened his mouth to argue, but at Ron's gaze he closed it seconds after and reluctantly placed Hermione on the stretcher, smacking his lips together tightly. He saw no point in trying to hide the fact that he felt afraid (quite helpless, too) and anxious, because he knew perfectly well that if he bottled his feelings up again, he might as well take down the whole hospital for having taken Hermione and his godfather away from him once more.

For a couple of seconds he wished he was a little boy so he could scream and cry that he didn't want them to go, that they should stay with him; he wished he could have a tantrum and tell everyone that he didn't like the way he was feeling, and that someone should change the way the world was turning, if it would mean for things to fall back into place once and for all... He wanted to stamp his foot on the floor, like a three year old child.

But he would have to act his age, it seemed. Act calmly, with a sense of poise and rationality... And he hated that fact.

--

"But you must understand, miss, that the laws of nature-"

"I don't care about the laws of nature! Why haven't they woken up?" Harry smirked sadly at Ginny's commanding tone of voice, from his chair in between Sirius's bed and Hermione's. It had been a week and a half since they had returned. Currently, it was 11 p.m., and the healer was starting to tell Sirius's and Hermione's visitors out of the room, save for Harry of course.

"We are doing the best that we can; the effort involved in what Mr. Black almost killed him-"

"And what about my friend?" Ginny's voice shook at the last part. The healer apparently decided to lower the tones of his voice, because Harry couldn't hear anything but whispers after that. He hadn't eaten in days, and he had slept, what, five hours in two days now? And yet he didn't dare to fall asleep- he didn't dare to let sleep overtake him. What if one, or both, of them died and Harry slept by it idly? What if they woke up and there was no one to grasp their hands in reassurance?

The whispers and the footsteps faded away, followed by the soft sound of a door closing, and once again Harry found himself accompanied by that abysmal silence that always seemed to follow him these days. With a prolonged sigh, Harry glanced at his godfather and his pale, gaunt features. What would they do if they woke up? Would his godfather return to Hermione? And how would Harry make of that? All the issues that had seemed so insignificant when he had seen Sirius with Hermione, crumpled in front of the Veil, had finally lodged themselves in Harry's brain, tormenting him. The fact that Sirius had been in a relationship with Hermione when she was fifteen was something that he still couldn't quite swallow. Harry breathed in deeply and moved a white curtain around his godfather's bed, concealing him from view. He'd have to do the same thing with Hermione's too, soon.

So that had been the reason Hermione had had an overdose? That was why she kept entering Sirius's room? The answer to all the questions now deemed so obvious that it was almost ridiculous. How could he not see it? Harry's eyes traveled to the bed next to him, and to its occupant. On its own volition, Harry's hand entwined with Hermione's. He had been suspicious, he remembered. But the idea of her loving Sirius was just so... so far fetched... And Hermione had successfully made him consider that very idea so outraging, too. Had she been so mistaken in doing so? If Hermione had told him about Sirius and her, what would Harry have done? How would he have treated her?

With his right hand, Harry rubbed his tired eyes and, with his left squeezed Hermione's hand... And she squeezed back?! Harry immediately sat next to her on the bed, staring intently at her face with widened eyes, squeezing her hand again. His breathing got caught in his throat, and his heart was beating so fast and hard it hurt.

Hermione felt warm, comfortable, and strangely heavy. She had never felt as heavy as she did now. She wondered why that was? She felt something warm touch her hand; it felt as if a speck of warm light had made its way through the darkness that had usually surrounded her. Wherever she was, she felt comfortable, and didn't have any intention of leaving any time soon. With a small struggle she opened her eyes, trying to look around her, but it was useless- she could hardly see a thing.

"Hermione? Are you awake?" That voice, why did it sound so familiar to her? Since when she breathed again? Something wasn't right here. "Hermione?" The voice repeated.

She was suddenly blinded when the lights at the top of her bed blazed on. She hissed.

"Hermione- Can you hear me?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes, blinking, and looked upwards at the blurry face just above hers. She blinked a couple more times and slowly, the face she had least expected to ever see again came into focus. Where was she? What was Harry doing there? In a split second, everything flooded back to her with the delicacy of a rampant Hippogriff. She tore her eyes away from his and wildly gazed at the room, her chest heaving up and down rapidly and inconsistently.

"Calm down, Herm. It's okay. You're in St. Mungos," Harry said. His eyes were red.

"What- How-" Her throat felt amazingly dry. "Did Sirius return?"

"Yes, he did." Hermione nodded and tried to swallow, quickly breaking eye contact. How to tell everything to Harry? How to explain? And how had they taken her out of the Veil? She tried to sit up, but Harry had to help her do so. She still didn't meet his eyes, now knowing what to tell him. The questions she had were of no importance now. "Hermione..."

Why? Why had they brought her back? She didn't want to see the pain in Harry's eyes. She didn't want to know how much the others had suffered, if they had suffered at all, when she threw herself through the Veil. Hermione closed her eyes tightly, as her lips, trying with all of her might not to cry.

"I'm- I'm so sorry," she whispered, turned her face sideways, moving away from him by inches. "I'm so sorry, Harry... You shouldn't be here with me. Not after what I- I did to you. I don't deserve you," She added, also taking her hand away from his.

"Don't say that." Harry gently said. Hermione still avoided his gaze, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"No, don't- don't you say that!" She ordered, glaring at him. "Don't you dare- Don't put yourself below me, Harry! After all the things you gave me, all the things we did together in Hogwarts- And I repay you like this!" She added. "Why do you still care? How can you?"

"Because I love you."

"Well, you shouldn't," Hermione replied. When Harry didn't say anything, her face fell again. "I'm so sorry, so sorry... Harry... If I could explain- If I could tell you..."

"You don't need to." Hermione sharply glanced at him at this, but didn't say anything, so Harry breathed in deeply once more. "Sirius did." Hermione's mouth fell open at this.

"What?" She squeaked.

"He told me everything, a year ago." Harry said, boring his eyes into hers. Hermione's brow furrowed worriedly, and still looked quite incapable of forming a coherent sentence.

"Sirius- He told...? Is he- What did he tell you?"

"What happened between you two in fifth year," Harry retorted, and Hermione's face became parchment white. She stared at him unmoving, fearful, not knowing how to approach the news. "I hated him so much, for a couple of months. On some levels, I despised you, too," Harry started, looking away. "I couldn't understand, you know? I couldn't understand why or how it had happened- I quite simply couldn't take it in."

"I understand if you hate me, Harry. I don't blame you," Hermione said in a small voice.

"I don't hate either of you now, in any case." Harry told her with a smirk.

"Harry... About... About my birthday night..." Her voice was shaking so badly that even she could barely decipher the words. "I wish... I wish I didn't... I wish I could've avoided causing you pain," Hermione whispered.

"I wish so too," Harry said with a sigh. "But you're here now, and you're alive, and that's all that matters to me," he said, smiling at her. Hermione weakly returned it, and silence fell upon them for a couple of minutes.

"Thank you," Hermione finally said, letting her body sag on the bed. Harry arranged her pillows as she lied down again, closing her eyes.

"You're welcome," he told her. "Sirius was the one that brought you back," he informed her. Hermione widened her eyes and bit her lower lip.

"But- He's not- What potion did he drink?"

"The first one."

"But is he alright? He came back with me, didn't he?" She was obviously getting too agitated for her own good, in her present condition, again, so Harry nodded in direction of the adjacent bed.

"He's there," he whispered. Hermione's gaze flickered over the white curtain and her eyes shimmered with tears again as she looked back at Harry. With some effort she extended her arms and put them around his neck weakly, pulling him down so she could kiss his cheek, crying. Maybe she wanted to say something, maybe he wanted to kiss her, but neither of them did what they wanted to do.

Sometimes, words are overrated, and actions convey what voices and words can never archive. This was one of such times.

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A/N: Well, there it is. There's still one chapter left- The final chapter. Wow. I can hardly believe it! I hope you liked this chapter as much as I did, or at least enjoyed it. Please, leave me a review so I can know! Until next chapter...