"Are you sure you can't do anything?" Harry stood in front of the only person whom he thought best to seek counsel in. Professor, rather Headmistress McGonagall pursed her lips with a slight shake of her head.
"Even if I wanted to locate him, what's to say his return won't cause more harm than good?"
"But you've seen the memories..." Harry leaned forward with urgency, "You've got to know he is a good man..."
"My opinion matters little, Mister Potter...it would be a most arduous task to even begin to..." Minver let out a slow breath, "The time for this is not right...the world may be falling at your feet right now Potter, but there are so many out there who are just waiting for something to happen. It's much too dangerous..."
"But...you can find him?"
"I don't know..." Minver looked up at the portraits that looked down at her, the one that had already brought controversy sitting silently and still. "If you are so concerned...why not just let St. Mungo's do what they believe is right?"
"Do you think anything they've done thus far is even the realm of right?" Harry pushed himself up, his frustration growing, "They took her mind!" Harry ran a hand through his hair his eyes unable to focus on anything. "They took everything from her! What's to say they can even put her back together?"
"I'm sure there was a good cause..." Minvera could sympathize with him, she truly could but just as he, she found herself unable to truly plot a proper course.
"Yeah? They still refuse to even tell us the reason they've done this in the first place! For all we know, there's some twisted...pure-blood supremacist in that hospital just using her as a plaything!"
Minver sat back into her chair folding her arms slowly, oh how this child before her had changed. "Have you been going to your own sessions?"
"What's the point...?" Harry shook his head turning his eyes up towards the repaired frame of Albus Dumbledore, the man inside was not at home but his eyes still pierced through the painting with thick emotions. "It's not going to change anything..."
"It will help you Mister Potter...you need to let this go...you cannot carry their deaths with you...You are not to blame..."
"No...I'm not..." Harry turned his eyes away from the empty canvas, "Unfortunately the man who is— has already received his final punishment..."
"I am sorry, Harry." Minerva rose to her feet slowly coming around the desk so many had sat at before, "This choice is yours...and yours alone..."
Harry turned his eyes towards her with such respect and admiration, "What if I choose wrong?"
"You must stop listening to this," McGonagall pressed her finger pointedly between his brows, "And start listening to this..." Her hand lowered down resting palm flat over his heart.
oOo
"What do you think she'll be like?" Ron curled his lips in nervously watching the healers from St. Mungo's moving around Grimmauld Place, they had come to inspect the home at which Hermione would be staying and thus far they hadn't found anything up to their inspection.
"I don't know..." Harry made a small face as the healers clicked their tongues writing down in their notebooks. "At this rate, I don't think they're going to let us take her anyway..."
Ron nodded slightly but his heart still ached. He, Ginny, Neville, and Harry had made Grimmauld place their home, Ginny staying just until school started, Neville, until his Gran was set back to rights and Ron until he could find a place of his own. The home wasn't upkept in the slightest, it had been left to decay when they'd been on the run, and even with their return, the young adults hadn't really made an effort to improve the place. Mostly fearing Harry's reaction to changing anything.
The Ministry worker in charge of Hermione's case, Matilda Harvan came over with a grim look on her face, "I'm Mister Potter, but unless you're willing to completely cleanse this house, there is no way we can allow Hermione to stay here. The dark magic in the books alone would be...too dangerous..."
Harry pursed his lips tightly. As much as he wanted to preserve his Godfather's memory. The fact of the matter was, he was dead. He would always remember him fondly in his heart and it was time for him to start making a life of his own. He had hoped Ginny would move in with him after school, but even she was leery of venturing beyond the third floor at times. The portrait of Mrs. Black as well was most certainly going to need to go, not that Harry minded that much.
"What if we could...clean it?"
"If you would be willing, I see no real danger in the layout." The woman turned her head up the staircase, "Of course you'd want to put anti-tripping charms on the stairs."
"It sounds like you're trying to tell us to prepare for an infant..." Ron's jaw twitched even as he spoke, his arms crossed with his defensive posture, his back tense with the unknown.
"That might very well be the case for a few days." Matilda shifted her clipboard to her hip, "From what I understand you'll be able to see her today, awake and active. I would hold off any real proclamation until you have a chance to see her. If it goes well, I'm sure we can spare a few days for you to get the house in order Mister Potter. There is no real time limit here for her recovery."
"What time?" Harry rubbed his arm nervously, all of this was just much more than he ever imagined.
"One O'clock today. I'm sure you'll be notified by owl soon enough." The woman turned back to the Healers who were slowly collecting in the entrance way with them. Three in total, they too shared the same grim outlook as Ms. Harvan but they tried not to show it. "Do try to have a good rest of the morning." The woman moved around the two young adults and made for the door. The last healer out pulled off a paper from his clipboard, handing it to Ron before making his way to follow. It was a list of all the things they had found unsuitable for her care. It was long.
"Can we really do this?" Though Ron's heart was stead-fast on bringing Hermione home, even he was starting to doubt their capabilities at providing her proper care. His eyes turned to Ginny and Neville who had stayed in the dining room during the inspection, neither one saying a word on the entire experience though Ron could tell they too felt the weight upon their shoulders.
"We have to..." Harry gently took the list from Ron's hands, "Hermione deserves to be home, with friends who love and care about her...not some stuffy cold hospital..."
Neville rose to his feet coming over to the doorway where they both stood, "There's a guy helping us with the castle...he could be able to help...it's kind of his specialty..." Neville wanted to bring Luna home too, but she was still unable to walk on her own power, he knew the best place for her was at St. Mungo's. When he'd heard about what they'd done to Hermione, he was instantly reminded of his parents and what the ward they were kept in was like. He had agreed with Harry that Hermione didn't deserve to be subjected to that sort of place, even if she was recovering. She wasn't damaged, she wasn't broken. They had done something to her.
Harry offered over the paper, "The meeting is at 1:00, it's what around 9:30? We're not expected at the castle until 10:00 do you think you could talk to him before then?"
"Of course, he's usually there early, I could probably even leave now..." Neville glanced at the clock over his shoulder, the clock was sitting just before 9:30.
"Tell him money's not an issue, that we'd need it done within two days..."
"Two days?" Ron felt as though the time was a bit arbitrary and shifted his stance wondering if Harry was once again not telling him everything.
"Yeah, that's the longest I'm going to be quiet about their treatment plan. If they don't release her to us, I'm going to any paper that will hear me." Harry pushed off the wall then, pushing himself between his gobsmacked friends. He thumped up the stairs waking Mrs. Black. There was a small bang and a soft whimper before Harry's steps continued upward.
Neville and Ron looked at each other with worry before slowly lowering their heads down to look at the list. Neither one noticed Ginny slipping up the stairs to get to the bottom of Harry's temper.
oOo
Galia leaned back in her chair, her delicate hand pressed under her chin, her blank eyes staring out into the infinite void. A slow smile was growing on her thin lips as she listened to the man muttering away in the other room. The future was a tricky thing to predict, so many possibilities. It was so exciting, much more fun than she'd had in many years.
oOo
Harry and Ron frowned deeply looking in through the one-way glass. They'd been standing there for nearly half an hour. Watching different healers enter the room to try and communicate with Hermione. Thus far, it hadn't succeeded in either direction. The room they looked into reminded the both of them of a child's room. The walls were a soft blue, and there were toys and other things about. A table sat center of the room, obviously a child's table made larger, and a small shelf of books sat along the far wall. They could see coloring books and crayons set out on the top of the table but their eyes were most focused on their friend curled up in the corner on top of a small floor chair, the farthest she could get from the door.
Her eyes were downcast and her arms were wrapped around her stomach with her knees drawn up. She looked more nervous than afraid, her eyes wide, taking everything in with childlike wonder. She was dressed in light pink hospital-issue pajamas with matching socks. The color definitely not something either of them were used to seeing her in. In fact, Harry was pretty sure he'd heard her make a comment about how much she detested the color. When one of the healers approached her, trying to start a conversation, she merely turned her head away, looking down at the floor. Harry and Ron pursed their lips tighter and looked at the head Mediwizard for any explanation.
"We believe her mental acuity is somewhere between 4 and 5 years old. However, until we can get her to cooperate with us, there is no way of knowing just where exactly she is." The Mediwizard sighed softly looking in through the glass, "This was what we were afraid of. We need her conscious and aware when we replace the memories, but we can't replace them without her willingness to accept them." He took a slow breath.
"You should have thought of that before you removed her memories, wouldn't you say?" Harry's voice was hard and his glare was even worse. He turned his head away from the healer back to Hermione. She'd hidden her head down onto her knees now and was lightly rocking her head 'no' to whatever the healer had asked her. "So if she accepts us, then we get to take her home?"
"That is part of the plan, yes, but from what I hear, your home isn't well suit-"
"It will be." Harry pushed himself from the wall giving Ron a small tug on his shirt to gather his attention to follow him. They turned the small corner that led to the door leading inside of the room and glared slightly at the two innocent staff members who stood beside the door.
"Our turn." Harry's tone raised an eyebrow but otherwise didn't elicit any comment. Ron ducked his head slightly as the Healers made to open the door. The healer inside the room pushed herself up to her feet and slowly made her way over.
"She's just a bit frightened right now...just keep your voice quiet and your movements slow." She offered out a small paper with a list of questions she was trying to get Hermione to answer. Ron took the paper glancing at it only briefly before turning his eyes back to Hermione. "We need her to answer as many of those as she can..."
"Got it." Harry held the door open letting her step through while Ron had already come fully into the room. He had a small Teddy Bear with him this time, deciding that she'd had enough flowers to throw her own parade. She didn't look up when the door closed and that only made their hearts beat heavier.
"Should I go first?" Ron looked down at the soft brown bear that had a bright red and gold ribbon, "Maybe...this'll help?"
"Yeah...I'll stay back..." Harry wasn't going to leave the room but he did agree that the two of them approaching her may be a little more than she could handle. He pressed his back against the door and crossed his arms trying to keep the look of deep concern from being too obvious on his face.
Ron took a slow deep breath and turned his head. The room felt oddly out of place for him. Like a giant in a child's world. He suspected they'd designed it after one of her memories. He recognized one of her knick-knacks that had been in a muggle photo she'd sent him one summer. It was a small horse carousel that she said played her favorite piano piece when it was wound. He couldn't remember the piece's name at present, but he'd at least remembered the music box.
Moving slowly to her side, he decided that the best thing he could do was to make himself look just as small as she possibly felt. He took a seat down beside her on one of the cushions and curled his legs up to his chest, letting the Teddy Bear sit between. He sat there in silence for a long time until she finally lifted her head. When she did, he gave her a gentle smile and waved the Teddy Bear's arm in her direction. His heart leapt when she turned her fear-filled eyes away from him and to the bear, a genial smile growing on her face.
"Hello, my name's Bearie what's yours?" Ron changed his voice trying to make it as though the bear was talking. It was something he'd done when his sister was little and she always seemed to enjoy it. Hermione glanced up at Ron for the briefest of moments before looking back down at the bear. She shifted herself slightly before she replied in the softest whisper he'd ever heard.
"Hermione..."
Her name came out so soft, so infantile, it truly did sound and feel like she was just learning to speak. Ron took it as a small win though and quickly glanced up at Harry giving the smallest nod of his head. "That's a pretty name." Ron shifted his hold slightly over the bear moving it closer to her. "Do you like Teddy Bears?"
Hermione nodded slightly, the smile that had come to her face growing a bit wider. She didn't move when he shifted just a half an inch closer, setting down the bear to 'stand' between them.
"Do you know what I like?"
Hermione shook her head slowly, her eyes never leaving the bear.
"I like hugs...would you like to give me a hug?" Ron moved the bear's arms out watching her reaction from under his eyelashes. He was just so amazed that something he thought of was even working. When Hermione nodded, Ron could have shaken with excitement. Instead, he slowly lifted the bear up waiting for her to take it. As she did, her hands brushed against his and he felt a small pang run through him.
Hermione gave the soft bear a gentle hug before resting it under her chin; her fingers running over the back of the bear's head like a mother gently stroking the back of her babies head. Her eyes turned away completely then, staring out at the room around her.
"My name's Ron...you know what I like to do?"
Hermione gave him a small glance from behind her hair. The beautiful braid the healers had put it in was gone, obviously taken out by the much younger version of herself; leaving it fluffed and curled. She regarded him with an odd mix of curiosity and apprehension before slightly shaking her head.
Ron turned his head towards the table and lightly flicked his hand in its direction, "I like to color, do you like to color?"
Another nod and a soft smile made his lips curl up and his shoulders relax somewhat. He let out some of the tension he'd been holding with a slow exhale, "Would you like to color with me?"
Harry had never been more amazed at his friend in all his life. His tone, his actions, his everything just looked like exactly what Hermione needed in that moment. He watched with ambivalence as Ron came to his feet offering out his hand. Hermione wasn't so quick, and sort of like a newborn fawn came to her feet one foot at a time. It was painful to watch. It didn't seem to hurt her but her discoordination was evident. The only light at the end of the tunnel was that she'd taken Ron's hand to help her.
Hermione kept tight to the bear he'd given her, her body felt wrong. Too big, too heavy. The healers had cast a perception spell over her eyes, making her see herself as she would have if she would have been 5 years old. When she looked down at herself, she didn't see the woman she had grown to be but rather her childhood self. It left her inner ear off and her natural sense of spatial awareness was nearly gone. Everything felt as though she was looking through the back end of a pair of binoculars. It took all confidence out of her steps.
Ron was patient. He kept his hand gentle and kind, moving at her pace over to the chairs. He could tell she was having trouble seeing the world around her though he didn't know why. He tried to keep the worry off of his face though it was nearly impossible. He helped Hermione into the chair before taking his own. His eyes looking down at what had been provided for her.
A muggle coloring book about flowers, a book to practice writing and a spare bit of parchment. He was quite sure she hadn't grown up with parchment and thus pushed it slightly to the side before pulling the coloring book closer. A small pack of 10 crayons in a box he had never seen before was provided as well. He briefly wondered where the healers had gotten everything from but pushed the thought aside as irrelevant.
He glanced at Hermione whose eyes were fixed at some point on the table. Her hands had gone back around the bear he had given her. With a deep breath, he opened the book to a random page and pushed it in front of her line of sight. He opened the crayons next spilling them out beside the book. He wondered if he'd lost her when her hand had finally come up. He watched her meticulously rearrange the crayons according to their appearance in the light spectrum.
"Do you mind if my friend joins us?" Ron turned his head towards Harry who he could tell was barely containing himself.
Hermione raised her eyes only after she'd finished adjusting the crayons. The question hanging painfully in the air. She caught sight of Harry and looked at him critically before shaking her head that she didn't mind. The tension in the room seemed to relax as the man came closer.
"Hello, Hermione." Harry kept his tone soft and his eyes even softer. She gave him only a sparing glance before she picked up one of the crayons. She grabbed it in her fist, her brow furrowing as she tried to adjust her long fingers to hold it properly.
Ron nodded his head slightly to Harry and looked back down picking up a crayon for himself. He didn't actually color but rather tried to show her without telling her how to hold it. He could see her eyes turning to his hand and for a moment he thought he might have upset her. Then, very slowly, her fingers started to match his. Ron smiled softly and set the crayon down remembering the questions that the healers needed them to ask. He pulled the paper out of his pocket setting it down on the table. Another glance to Harry gave him the confidence he needed.
"Hermione, how...how old are you?"
"Five..."
"Do you hurt anywhere?"
"No..." Hermione shifted slightly leaning further over the table as though she was trying to hide in the book.
"What do you like to eat? What's your favorite food?"
"Strawberries..." Hermione's voice was soft, nearly a whisper both boys had to lean in just a bit closer to even hear her.
"Is there anything you want right now?"
"Mummy..."
Harry and Ron shared another look. There was a clear pain on Harry's face, a deep pain that Ron just simply couldn't understand. The air went quiet with only the soft scratching of wax on paper. It was Ron who had the strength to ask the next question
"Do you know where you are?"
"Hospital."
"Why do you think that?"
Hermione paused in her coloring, a very familiar scowling pout forming on her lips. It was hard for them to image what that look may have looked like on her younger face, but it was extremely adorable on her adult face. Ron actually had to bite his inner lip to keep from smiling adoringly at it.
"It smells..." Hermione set down the crayon she was using, her chin lifting just a bit, it was the one sign they had both learned meant she was restraining herself from speaking out in some way.
"Why...why do you think you're here?" It was Harry's turn to speak.
"Because I'm odd..." Hermione lowered her eyes back down to the page, the strong confident look that they'd just seen vanishing almost in an instant.
"Odd?" Ron, shifted a bit closer leaning on his forearms to try and see at her face that was starting to be hidden by her hair again.
"Mummy's scared..." A small pause, another exchange of color, "I told her, I can make things move without touching them..."
Another heavy pause as the boys looked at the other before back down at Hermione.
"I couldn't do it again...but I know I can...Mummy's scared that I might be odd...that I spend too much time inside...reading..."
"And...that's why she...sent you here?"
"I don't want to be odd..."
"Oh, Hermione...you're not odd..." Ron couldn't help himself, the deep-seated need to bring her into a hug and hold her close was burning all the way down his limbs. "Can I tell you a secret?"
Hermione turned her eyes from the page looking at him closely before very slightly nodding her head.
"I can make things move too..." Ron shifted his hand lifting it to hover over the table. A small whisper in the back of his throat called one of the crayons beside the book to roll under his hand; he looked at Hermione before picking it up.