Disclaimer: Yeah, I think you get the picture by now.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Hermione jolted awake with a gasp. She jerked around, her eyes darting from left to right as confusion set in. She was tucked away in a sterile white bed beneath soft white sheets, the blank walls around her serving to feed the growing panic that was building within her.

Where was she?

The last thing she could remember was… She wracked her brain for the distant memory swimming in a dark corner of her mind, something that whispered about boats and stars and playing hide and seek in the woods, a chorus of laughter echoing through her head.

Her heart thudded in her chest as it hit her—the battle, Harry's urgent voice as he told Ron to take her and find the snake to kill it no matter what happened to him, Bellatrix, the hospital wing, and—

The blood slowly drained from her face as she recalled the unambiguous, distinct image of Nagini's bloody fangs followed by the waves of pain that had overtaken her body. She didn't know where she was but she had to figure out where Cedric was to make sure he was okay.

Oh, Merlin, and Harry! What happened to him? She began panicking, helplessness crashing down so hard on her that she felt like she was going to suffocate. One of her best friends had been left all on his own to face the most powerful dark wizard in history and the other…

Ron was with her. What if something happened to him when she was down, something she didn't see because she had lost consciousness? She felt bile rising in her throat as images assaulted her mind of all three boys' lifeless bodies lined up side by side as the death toll was tallied up. If they had all died, she should have been with them.

She yanked on the blankets to free herself of the bed, hyperventilating as claustrophobia and anxiety placed an iron grip on her. "Help!" She screamed, "Someone, please help me!" She was tugging on the blankets but she couldn't get them loose and she felt tears beginning to spill over onto her cheeks.

A war was raging and she was Merlin-knew-where! She had to get out, had to find the boys, had to make sure everyone was alive, had to remind herself to breathe, but breathing was hard because her throat was constricting and oh, Merlin, why wasn't anyone there with her, and—

The door opened and she halted her efforts, breathing hard as Scott came rushing in. He looked a complete mess, his usually impeccably styled hair limp and lifeless on his head and his clothes disheveled and wrinkled. He had dark circles beneath his red, swollen eyes, his normally cheerful expression replaced by the most solemn, humorless look Hermione had ever seen.

"Scott, please—" Hermione started, her voice wobbly and thick with a mixture of grief and fear, but Scott cut her off by crossing the room in a few swift strides and crushing her to his chest. Hermione fell apart in his comforting embrace, weakly trying to push him away from her as she pleaded brokenly, "Let me go, Scott! I have to help them, I have to—"

She could feel his shoulders shaking as silent sobs overtook his body. "It's over, Hermione," he interrupted her, breathing the words into her hair. She stopped struggling against him as surprise washed over her and he pulled back enough to look into her eyes, firmly gripping her shoulders as tears streamed down his face. "Voldemort's dead."

And, while Hermione knew that his crooked smile was supposed to convince her that he was crying out of joy from the news he had just shared, her heart was slowly breaking into a million pieces as she saw the pain behind the forced expression, knowing deep in her soul that something terrible had happened.

A healer came to give her a check-up after Scott left, no evidence that he had cried besides his red, puffy eyes. The healer was nice, but Hermione didn't feel like talking, too caught up in her thoughts at the moment to pay any attention to what the woman was saying.

Dread had sucked the life right out of her as she had stared into Scott's dull, unsmiling eyes. It was something to do with Cedric, she could just tell.

She didn't want to hear the details about how the man she had risked everything for, the man she had willingly given up her magic for, had helplessly writhed in agony in some corridor far away from her as Nagini's deadly venom coursed through his veins. She didn't want to know whether or not he had cried out as the relentless torture of Nagini's assault continued, nor did she want to know if his last thought was of Cho Chang before the viper lunged one final time to end his life.

Hermione didn't want to know any of those things, yet she felt that she needed to if she ever wanted to breathe again.

"Miss Granger?" Hermione blinked emotionlessly and turned her attention to the healer. While their visitation hadn't been long, the only other piece of important information Scott had departed to her was that she had been admitted to St. Mungo's wizarding hospital.

She didn't say a word, only looked at the mediwitch. The woman looked to be about thirty years old, her brown hair pulled back into a sloppy ponytail. If the purple bags beneath her eyes were anything to go by, after seeing the same phenomenon with Scott, Hermione was beginning to get the impression that people who came to the hospital didn't get much rest.

"As I said, I have already scanned your vitals and you are perfectly healthy," the healer informed Hermione in a gentle tone. Hermione nodded mutely. "Your body was overwhelmed by an excessive amount of magical charge, the remnants of which have already worked its way through your system, which is why you lost consciousness." She glanced down at the clipboard in her hand before continuing in a curious voice, "I also detected something quite unusual during my routine examination."

Hermione raised a slightly intrigued eyebrow.

The healer looked at her with an inquisitive expression on her face. "Have you ever heard of magical connections?"

Hermione shook her head—a first—and continued listening.

"It's extremely rare, but…" The healer paused, her eyes quickly scanning over the parchment before flipping to the next sheet and reading over it. "Magical connections can occur between two people of magical descent that perform a very powerful incantation or brew a particularly strong potion."

This fully caught Hermione's attention and she sat up a little straighter.

The mediwitch observed Hermione with an undisguised level of interest as she asked, "It was you who resurrected Mr. Diggory from the dead, correct?"

Hermione's voice was somewhat breathless, unsure of where this conversation was going. "Yes."

The healer raised her delicate brown eyebrows in shock but quickly straightened her expression into a more professional one. "I would say that the steps you took to go through that process was the reason for the connection, but whenever a connection is usually made, it merely serves to bind the two individuals' minds and souls together," she said. She furrowed her brows a little as she continued, "As I analyzed the magical signature of the traces found in your body when you first arrived, I was stunned to find that it was quite intricate."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, leaning forward in anticipation of the answer the mediwitch would provide. For some reason, something about a star being split in half kept drifting into her mind, but she brushed off the oddly lingering thought.

"It didn't have a definitive caster," she replied. "It had essential elements that seemed to belong to you intermixed with some that belonged to someone else, which is a phenomenon the wizarding world hasn't seen since the Dark Ages, according to all written history in existence to this point."

Hermione thought about how Cedric had somehow managed to acquire her magic, perplexed by all the new information she had just been given. "So…" she started slowly, her brows knitting together as she sat deeply in thought, "What you're saying is that my magic is mixed with Cedric's?"

The healer shook her head. "Sort of, but not exactly." She flipped her parchment to the first page once more. "Your magic and Mr. Diggory's are, down to the very essence of the composition of their signatures, identical."

That's when everything all made sense to Hermione. The reason only shecould see Cedric. The reason that only she could touch him. The reason only she could connect Scott to Cedric and they could see each other. Their magic signatures were the exact same.

"If you could perform a few spells, I can discharge you and send you on your way, Miss Granger," the mediwitch said in a kind voice.

Hermione knew that she would fail the test, but didn't have the strength to fight back. Once she failed it, she would be free to curl back up and sleep as long as she wanted to. "I don't know where my wand is," she murmured truthfully, looking around the room as if it would jump out at her.

The healer smiled and pulled it out of one of her robe pockets. "I held onto it for safekeeping while you were unconscious." She handed it to Hermione before saying, "A few basic spells will be fine."

Hermione concentrated with all her might despite knowing the intense pain she was about to undergo once she cast the spell. She would do the same two spells she attempted in the hospital wing, or at least try to perform them to the best of her newfound non-magical ability. She pointed at the pillow on her bed and recited the levitation spell with a perfect swish and flick of her wrist.

She immediately crumpled to the floor and wept—not because she had felt any pain, but because she hadn't. The pillow levitated effortlessly from the mattress and that's when the truth that Hermione had been trying so desperately to ignore crushed her beyond repair.

Cedric was dead.

Hermione had been discharged from St. Mungo's a few days after her meltdown, the healer leaving her to her inconsolable sobbing. She returned a few times that day but couldn't elicit a single response from Hermione until three days later. Hermione was immobile, staring unresponsively at the wall without acknowledging anyone who tried to speak with her.

She hadn't eaten anything or gotten a wink of sleep in over a week.

Somewhere in her dysfunctional mind, she knew that she was being unfair to her friends and family by acting that way, but she couldn't find the effort to force herself back to life for them.

Between the two boys, Harry came to see her first.

He had sat with her, crouching by the small bed in her parent's home that she had slept in since childhood and holding her hand. He tried making small talk at first, trying to downplay how difficult it had been to defeat Voldemort. Hermione noticed the way his hand kept twitching as it was clasped around hers, a tell-tale sign that he had undergone one too many Cruciatus curses, but she couldn't bring herself to talk.

He talked at length about the cleanup at Hogwarts and about how he and Ron had gotten picked up by the Ministry of Magic to begin Auror training in a few weeks despite their age. Hermione was genuinely happy for them, knowing just how much it meant to them to do their shared dream job together. They had been planning on applying for Auror positions since First Year and she wanted to celebrate.

She wanted to open her mouth to tell her how proud she was, but it was as if she'd forgotten how to speak. So, instead, she continued to lie in her bed staring at the ceiling as she wasted away.

Harry eventually sighed and said his goodbye to her. She heard his footsteps as he made his way toward the door and the way that he stopped just as he reached it. "Hermione," he said slowly, his voice full of raw emotion, "I don't know what's made you like this, but you survived the battle." She heard him choke on a sob and if she had any heart left, it would have been throbbing guiltily with each painful word he spoke. "I—we all miss you. This war has been hard on everyone and that's why we need each other to make it through the pain. We need you here in the land of the living now."

Hermione could sense his hesitation as he waited for any sign of response before he sighed again and gave up. She heard the shuffle of his feet once more followed by the soft click of her bedroom door as he shut it behind himself and waited until she heard the soft pop that indicated he'd Disapparated from her house before rolling onto her side and crying herself into restless state of sleep.

Hermione had hardly budged from her bed in over a month but she finally knew it was time to, as Harry put it over three weeks ago, return to the land of the living. She quietly crept into the bathroom to shower despite knowing that she could just as easily use a quick spell to scourgify herself clean and brushed her teeth after climbing out.

Her reflection in the fogged up mirror was haunting: her coffee eyes were sunken into a gaunt, pale face and ringed with dark bags that indicated just how much sleep she had been getting lately. Her clothes fit much more loosely than they used to, but she could worry about that later. She owed it not only to Harry and everyone else, but also herself to forcibly come out of reclusion because this day was special. It was her seventeenth birthday.

She walked out of her room and softly greeted her parents, who immediately enveloped her in a tearful embrace and refused to let her leave the house without promising she'd return. Hermione almost cracked the smallest of smiles as she agreed to their concerned wishes before kissing them both goodbye and walking out of the house.

She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt the sun on her skin and just stood there on the sidewalk in front of her house for a moment to let it warm her. A breeze blew past her, ruffling her curls and tossing them all about in passing. Hermione looked up at the sky and saw that it was cloudless and blue and felt tears welling up in her eyes at the beauty of it all.

She closed her eyes as her emotions rendered her speechless, causing tears to spill onto her cheeks. She didn't know if it was Cedric trying to speak to her or nature itself, but either way, she understood that the message was that life would still go on as long as she was a willing participant in it.

She pulled out her wand on a whim and decided to Apparate to Hogwarts to see just how well the construction Harry and Ron had both mentioned was going. She knew that the anti-Apparition wards were currently down as the reconstruction went on so she appeared on site without a hitch.

To her amazement, the corridor she had been envisioning was surprisingly still intact. She slowly made her way down the hallway and stood in front of the empty expanse of wall in front of her. The door materialized and she smiled as she reached out to grasp the familiar handle. She had missed this so much.

She pushed the door open and found the room exactly as she remembered it: brown couches, fire blazing merrily in the fireplace, and the same coffee table all waiting for her.

Just as she stepped inside, the door closing behind herself, she became aware of another person who was occupying the Room. She could see his crouched shoulders and brown hair and her heart warmed upon seeing her friend. "Scott," she said, only just realizing how much she had missed his company.

He had become like a brother to her over the past year and he watched out for her like she was his little sister. After the stress, depression, and overall craziness of the past month and a half, his comforting friendship was more than welcome.

He turned quickly, surprised, and Hermione's heart shuddered in her chest as he shot up from his seat.

Impossibly warm, shining grey eyes locked onto hers, the exhaustion that surrounded them momentarily forgotten as he looked at her. "Not quite," Cedric said quietly, running a hand through his brown hair that Hermione immediately could pick out the reddish hues shining in.

He moved out from behind the couch and Hermione couldn't utter a word. It was as if she was finally able to see after being blind for so long, her heart picking up speed and her breath catching in her throat as she watched him.

He stood wordlessly a few feet away from her for a minute, one hand in his pocket and the other holding a book, but it was hard for Hermione to distinguish what it was because of the dim lighting. "Scott gave me this when I was discharged from St. Mungo's a few weeks ago," Cedric told her slowly, his voice still equally as soft as it was when he first spoke, as if he were afraid of waking someone who was sleeping soundly.

He held up the book and the light slanted over its unmistakable, crumbling burgundy cover. The Extreme Uses of Dark Magic; the very book that had saved Cedric. "You wanted to give it a look?" Hermione supplied, her head feeling incredibly weightless as she stood in front of him. She had forgotten how much his presence made her head spin, like she had just stepped off of an incredibly fast roller coaster.

He smiled that crooked smile Hermione loved and she couldn't help but smile shyly back. "Scott said I needed to see the page about the Resurrection Spell," Cedric explained. Hermione nodded to indicate that she was listening, partially wondering if she were imagining this whole interaction to begin with. "Which is why I am glad to see you," he said, looking down at the book as he flipped through the pages to find the correct one.

Hermione looked at him in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Cedric smiled when he found the page and walked over to Hermione, his finger pointing at a particular passage. "Read it out loud."

Hermione took the book from him, trying to ignore how the heat radiating off of him was making it difficult for her to breathe properly. She scanned the familiar page, her eyes running over the brief summary and through the steps to make the potion, followed by the spell itself. She was about to ask him what he was talking about when she finally saw what he had been pointing at.

Beneath the spell, there was another passage of writing that she had evidently missed. She shot him a puzzled look before reading what was written across the yellowed parchment. "'Resurrectionem Alica is a means to an end. If the love shared between the caster and the departed soul is pure on behalf of both individuals, success and happiness are sure to follow. Sacrifices must be made in order to maintain the balance because love is more powerful than any other form of magic.'"

Hermione's voice had dropped to a nearly inaudible whisper by the end of it, her heart thudding with disbelief and anticipation.

"I don't remember a lot of what happened between my death and resurrection," Cedric murmured. Hermione's eyes darted up to look at him, startled by just how close he was to her.

"You went to Cho," Hermione breathed, lost in the liquid pools of silver that were his eyes.

She saw sadness flash through his eyes for a moment as he said, "I did, but I can't now."

The implication of his words was startling, and Hermione's mouth fell open, her eyes watering as she realized that Cho had been killed in the battle.

She was about to open her mouth to say something to him when he spoke again, his eyes filled with a renewed glow. "As I was saying, I don't really remember a whole lot about what happened while I was dead," Cedric repeated, his lips quirking up at the corners. Hermione watched him in awe as he spoke, entranced by the simplest things about him like how his lips formed each word. She found herself staring at those lips for a little longer than she had intended, and as she looked back into his eyes, she couldn't help but wonder how they would feel against her own. "But there's one thing that's come back to me since then."

It was silent for a moment as Hermione fumbled for something adequate to say. "What's that?"

He stepped closer to her and her breathing hitched when he reached his hand up to cup one cheek, running his thumb across the smooth skin. "How much I need you," he breathed before pulling her face to his.

Electricity shot through Hermione's body as his lips connected to hers and it only took her a second to collect her bearings at the realization that Cedric Diggory was kissing her before she wrapped her arms around his neck, her eyes fluttering shut, and kissed him back with all she had. He pulled her closely to him, gently cradling her body to his chest with one large palm splayed across the small of her back as the other made its way to her hair.

Hermione felt like each of his kisses breathed life into her, enlivening her once more. Cedric broke the passionate kiss to spread playful, loving, tender kisses all over her face before trailing his way down the soft skin of her neck and back up to her lips again. Hermione's hands had worked their way into his hair, tousling it beyond any hope of trying to tame it into something that looked presentable again, wrapped up completely in Cedric and the overwhelming feelings he was pouring into each kiss.

When they finally broke apart, breathless and smiling, Hermione stared into his eyes and could have sworn that for just a second, they were two twinkling stars.

Author's Note: I hate to say this, but that is actually the last chapter. *sobs* What am I going to do with my life now that I am finishing all of the stories I've been working on for years?

Pleeeasseee tell me what you think. :) Did I have you going there about Cedric being dead? It was making me so sad to write.

I love you guys. I'll be writing an epilogue soon, but we'll see about when I'm going to be posting it. Thanks for being awesome and supportive through this whole process. I know it's taken a while, but we all made it out alive!

I'm exhausted because it's nearly five in the morning now and I've stayed up all this time just for all of you lovely people in order to get this chapter to you. I'm going to cut it off here because I honestly don't have the steam to keep going for much longer, haha.

You are wonderful, amazing, awesome people.

Remember: peace, love, and hugs (not drugs).

~Caitlyn