oO The Aftermath Oo

"Hey, Luna..."

"Oh, Hello Ron." Luna smiled softly, setting down the paper she had been skimming through. Her voice, soft and strong. She'd been making a steady recovery since being taken to St. Mungo's following the battle. It had been almost a miracle that she had survived the final hours. Her lower body had been completely crushed, it was only with one of Hermione's potions did she actually have a chance to make it to the hospital. The healers had done amazing work repairing and replacing the bones in her legs, hips, and back; and with time the nerve regrowth potions were set to do their job.

For the two weeks following the final battle, she had shared her rather large room with another. She had been shocked at first but had gradually come to understand. Neville visited nearly every day when the work on rebuilding the castle hadn't been so much that he fell asleep on sight. Visiting hours had gotten rather lax due to the number of injuries but as time passed and more and more 'War Heros' had been released they had started to become tight again.

"More flowers?" Luna turned her head to the small dressers that separated the two beds. They were covered on both sides, with almost an unaccountable amount of flowers, gifts, and cards. She had never known either of them to have ever been so popular.

"Yeah..." Ron felt a bit sheepish as he clutched the bundle of wildflowers to his chest. He'd been coming every day like clockwork. Though Luna knew he wasn't coming to see her, she always greeted him when she could. She felt it helped ease the pain somewhat.

Ron, came in a bit further only to notice the bed on the far wall was empty, the sheets pressed and new. His heart skipped softly and his hold on the flowers tightened so much he actually broke one of the stems.

"Where's Hermione?" He felt like he hadn't stopped saying those words since that night. Harry had tried to explain what had happened over the days that had followed but all his inner eye could see was her laying so still in the middle of the road. When Harry had lifted her and her body had sagged lifelessly against his hold was a constant image that even plagued his waking hours.

Luna shifted slightly, picking up a book she had been reading, deciding it was better than the news, before she glanced over at Ron's bewildered face, giving him another encouraging smile, "They've just taken her to get a bath. She should be back soon. If you want, I could read to you to pass the time?"

"Yeah, alright..."

Ron set the broken flowers inside a vase that was already filled and pulled the visitor's chair from the wall. He gave Luna a soft lopsided smile as he leaned back to listen. His body weary from the days work. He knew Neville and Harry could be coming soon, he had just hoped for some private time with Hermione before they came. They all worked together at repairing Hogwarts but as their skills were in different fields they hardly crossed paths during the day.

oOo

"Be still..."

Snape grunted and shifted his head away from the woman attending to him. It wasn't a most pleasant experience in either direction. A sharp hiss passed his lips when the piece of glass she'd apparently been searching for finally came free.

"There now, was that so difficult?"

"Yes. I still haven't understood why I agreed to let a blind woman remove the glass from my body when I could merely summon it free." His voice was nearly acidic, dripping with his renowned sarcasm.

"I've already told you, I can see. Just not the way you do." Her small hand ran down the outer expanse of his muscle, "I can even see your future child."

Snape let out a very loud, very ungentlemanly snort and turned back, shaking his head. "I believe you've gone senile in your old age."

"You should never insult a woman's age, besides I'm younger than you." She smacked the back of his head before returning her hands back down.

"By a couple days," Snape grunted; when she found another shard and curled his hands tight to keep from crying out. His eyes turned to the wall ahead of him, glaring at it as though it had been personally responsible for his mishap.

"You know, I did warn you."

"I never put much stock in divination..."

"Clearly." Her voice was nearly as deadpan as his own. Their rhetoric and snappish personalities nearly identical. It was still unnerving to the both of them just how similar they were at times. Her fingers pulled free another rather large piece before her whispered spell sealed the hole it left behind.

"That should be all of it." Her palms ran flat over his back, mapping the numerous scars, ridges, and bumps for anything that felt out of place.

Snape sighed heavily and pulled his shirt from his lap, his recovery had been swift, only taking a week to come back to full strength. His cousin had more potions than he could have ever dreamed of having. She wasn't an accomplished potions master, but she had enough talent in the field. He had been working on a potion to restore her sight when it had all gone pear-shaped. The old tools he had been working with had contaminated the brew causing the crystal cauldron he had had to work with to explode. He'd shielded himself nearly in time but had taken a rather nasty hit to his back.

He had started the potion mostly out of boredom. His days had bled one into the next with only white walls to keep him company. Like he, the woman whose house he shared was not one for conversation. Going about her daily tasks with almost painful routine. Everything had a place, and everything had to always be in that place. He'd learned that when he'd accidentally left his kitchen chair askew and the woman had tripped and fell causing a rather nice gash on her head. He had learned its importance. He hadn't his wand, but he had been able to heal the cut fairly well with his wandless magic.

"You really don't need to do this, I'm quite happy the way I am."

"You're a horrible liar, Galia." Snape pulled his shirt up over his arms before reaching down to set the buttons right. "I don't know why you try."

"Perhaps I should get out more." Her lip quirked a bit before she turned to push herself up. She hadn't left the house in nearly 20 years. She hadn't felt the sun upon her face unless through glass in nearly the same amount of time. Even with the war over, and the man who had cursed her gone she still didn't have the courage to venture out. It was a wry joke between the both of them, each one knowing that the probability of it actually happening was near to none. Still, it was the sort of humor they both could enjoy.

oOo

"Hey, Ron." Harry gave his best friend's shoulder a heavy hand startling the redhead who had fallen asleep to Luna's soft voice.

"H-ey?" Ron grunted heavily and pushed himself up into the chair rubbing his eyes to clear his vision. He turned his head to the bed that was now sitting empty beside him and let out a heavy yawn before turning his eyes towards Harry in question.

"Neville took her out for some fresh air, she mentioned you talk in your sleep. Said you were saying something about tap-dancing trolls?"

Ron shook his head unable to remember such a dream and turned his head towards the bed that he had originally been waiting to be filled. "She's back..." Harry stepped out of his way as he came to his feet but he could feel him following behind.

"Yeah, about five minutes ago, we were trying to wake you but, yeah..."

"It's alright..." Ron turned picking up the chair he'd placed beside Luna's bed and brought it over, he was mindful of the noise as he set it down before he took a slow breath, "She looks nice..." The healer's had braided her hair leaving the long mass to rest down over her shoulder. The dark circles and harsh angles of malnutrition had faded away leaving her rather much like a sleeping beauty from a fairy tale.

"Have the healers said anything new?" Ron reached out slowly placing his hand on hers that rested by her hip, his thumb lightly massaging the warm smooth skin on the back.

"Not yet, but they said the Mediwizard in charge of her case was coming to talk with us today..."

Harry picked up the other visitor's chair and placed it on the opposite side. He sat down with fatigue heavy shoulders and let out a slow breath. It was still hard for him to see her in such a state, even knowing that she was merely sleeping, kept unconscious by the healers in their attempt to fix everything that had happened to her. They were supposed to wake her three days ago, but something had happened and they had made the unilateral decision to keep her unconscious. Since neither he nor Ron was technically her ward of care, most of the upper-level Mediwitches and wizards had refused to share anything in great detail with them. Presently, she was a ward of the Ministry until her family could be located. Though Harry suspected, that they weren't going to be found; not without Hermione's help.

Both boys sat in pensive silence; each one having taken a hand to hold. Ron had his lips pressed against the back of her knuckles while his fingers lightly ran up and down the underside of her forearm. It was something Harry had noticed he'd taken to doing and wasn't so sure if Hermione were awake would have really appreciated, though, at present circumstance, he had left his friend to find his consolation wherever he could.

They looked up in tandem as the door to the room opened, a very strict faced woman with deep black hair and bright hazel eyes in ministry robes walked in with the head healer trailing behind her. Pressed against her chest under her folded arms was a thick and very expansive looking file. The healer too carried a similar but rather less filled file and an old looking chest that had Hermione's name engraved on the metal placard just under the latch. They each paused when the boys came slowly to their feet as if they were gearing up to defend their friend from some unknown threat.

"Please sit down, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley."

The healer set the chest down gently on the table at the end of the bed while the Ministry Worker set her file down beside it. Her hand moving gently over the box that all eyes had been drawn to. "The healers and I have come to a small impasse in regards to the proper course for Miss Granger's care." The woman turned her eyes towards the head Healer who held his chin high, obviously confident that his proposed solution was the best course.

"I think it shall be enlightening to hear your opinions on this matter, given your extensive history." She bowed her head slightly in respect to Harry before looking down at the box under her palm. It was with a careful hand that she released the latch.

As the lid came open, Harry came to his feet with anger forming on his brow, "What is all that?" His tone was sharp as he pointed his accusing finger at the numerous vials filled with glowing blue liquid inside. The chest obviously held more than it would lead the casual observer to believe and he could easily see the various dates written on the bottles.

"This...in essence, is everything that makes Miss Granger." The Ministry worker's voice was soft but even she could detect the rising tension in the room.

"You-You've..." Harry could feel his chest growing tight, unable to tear his eyes away from the bottles. Magic was exceptionally brilliant at times, while others it was unfathomably terrifying. "You've...taken her memories?" He made to move closer to examine the box but the healer pushed the lid closed, the lock clicking loudly into place.

"It was necessary to properly-"

"Necessary!?" Harry's voice rose in pitch and his eyes flared, "What have you done?!" His accusing gaze turned to the worker who was supposed to be looking out for Hermione, supposed to be taking care of her when he so obviously couldn't.

"Please calm down, Mr. Potter." The worker pursed her lips obviously having expected such a reaction but none the less was truly outside of her power to prevent such a reaction.

"No! You-You've destroyed her! You've-" Harry swallowed down the word that had threatened to burst forth. All this lament over everything that had happened to her from then to now falling heavily into his chest. He could hardly see through the tears of immense grief and confusion that threatened to take his legs out from under him.

"Mister Potter, we have every intention of returning every single memory. It is at this time that we feel that it is better for her emotional and mental recovery that we have made this choice." The Healer licked his bottom lip taking a small breath, the confidence he'd had when he'd arrived was slowly fading out. "The committee in charge of her care here at St. Mungo's has proposed that she be moved to a secure, spell damage ward, in order to properly reassert her memories, slowly, over time and gradually help her come to terms with everything that's happened."

Harry felt himself falling back into his chair with a heavy thump. His eyes turned to Ron who was just completely dumbfounded by everything. He couldn't tell if he was just speechless or completely confounded. A deep breath eased his temper and he turned his eyes to the Ministry official who was obviously holding a different opinion.

"It is my personal opinion that her recovery would be better suited in the safety of her friends, with of course some restrictions. I proposed that she be released, without all of her memories. To either of you, with the hopes that being in a familiar environment would make the assimilation expedient."

Harry definitely liked the sound of the Ministry worker's opinion but he was concerned about the restrictions. Still though, he didn't want to make this decision on his own. He and Ron were still helping to rebuild the school, though he was sure McGonnagal would completely understand their situation he wasn't so sure that the both of them were truly suited to take care of Hermione. She had always been the one to take care of them. It would definitely be a new, if difficult, experience.

Ron blinked slowly before sitting up a bit straighter, "What sort of restrictions?"

The Ministry worker seemed to puff up just the slightest bit but kept her voice calm and even, "With my proposed care, she will be receiving memories daily, until the time at which she will have come to the present. Of course, there will be some time that has been lost during her unconsciousness, but we believe that this will not impact her overall care. During the time that she will spend with you, a healer will come and administer the memories. She will have a strict regime to help keep her as calm as possible; meaning whoever will be with her will have to abide by a strict schedule. So strict in fact that there will be a charm to well, to put bluntly, force either you to conform to. Now we are aware that the both of you are helping to rebuild Hogwarts, of course, whoever takes her into their care will have to take full responsibility for her. That means 24 hours a day, every day of the week. This is not something that should be taken lightly but the Ministry has faith the both of you that you are capable of this task."

Ron nodded his head slowly turning his eyes towards Harry. He knew he had taken on the burden of her care more than he had, though he had felt guilty that he'd been unable to help her, in the end, he had taken responsibility for choosing his family over her. As cold as it sounded, it had been the right choice at the time.

"And, if she were to stay here?" Harry had caught sight of his friend's eyes, he knew they would both be willing to split the responsibility. It was something that they didn't even need to discuss.

"Then her progress will be much slower, the resident therapist has many patients, and it would take much longer for her to get in to see them regularly. We can't predict either way, how she'll react to unfamiliar faces or your own and do reserve the right to return her here—if the healer on her case believes that it is necessary."

A weight shifted in the room and Harry came back to his feet. His jaw tightened as he thought about everything that had just been presented. He desperately wanted to bring Hermione home, to make her feel safe, he wanted to take responsibility. He was sure he wouldn't be alone in this and had full confidence that everyone would do their part to ensure Hermione returned to them fully, and safely.

"When can we take her home?"

oOo

"Severus."

Snape raised his head from the notes he was making, he hadn't found any books in the house but he had found an old unused desk with parchment and pencils. It had been enough for him to start looking at the mistake he'd made more clearly. He didn't react to her somewhat urgent call but did sit up a bit straighter from her tone, his brow furrowing slightly.

"They're taking her home..." Galia's brow twitched and her head moved as though she were looking through something, "This is not good...What have they done to you poor child?"

Snape sat up straighter, his attention was officially taken now. He had asked Galia once, only once, after he had come to; his question simple: Had Potter taken her into care? Galia's answer was direct if a bit emotionless though ever since that time, she had found random moments to update him on her status. He was almost certain she was spending a lot more time than he believed necessary in looking into the girl's future, but he had been unable to read her like he had so many others with his gift. She was like a void, a very unusual feeling for a man who constantly felt the pressure of those around him.