Disclaimer: Nope.
Author's Note: First of all, phew! I'm glad Fanfiction is back online! I don't know if anyone else noticed, or whether you were busy and missed it, but the site was down for ages yesterday. I'm glad everything was restored, but I have to admit that scared me. It's not uncommon for websites to go down for a bit, of course, with technology being as unreliable as it can be, but it was down for so long that I actually got worried. I'm sure I was overreacting, as I tend to do about a lot of things, but still ... I was rather nervous. I'm glad it's working again.
Also, I am under quite a bit of stress today because Hurricane Hilary might impact people I really care about. Even if that weren't the case, I'd still be worried for all those who would be impacted. These natural disasters are really horrific. I'm praying that everyone stays safe during the storm, and those I care about will make it through this all right.
Anyway, I'm glad you enjoyed the last chapter. Yes, Draco was a nasty piece of work when he was younger, and I agree that some fanfics either try to whitewash his earlier canon behavior or they make change happen way too quickly. I'm glad you're enjoying the fact that I'm trying not to do that too fast. I've always had the belief that people can change.
I hope you all enjoy this chapter. I hope it's still of good quality even though I'm under quite a lot of stress today.
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Harry's sleep was a gentle thing to behold. His face, which had either shown such negative emotion or downright apathy so much of these days, looked content and peaceful. He just lay there in slumber while life went on around him - he was oblivious to the fact that his three best friends sat by his bedside, their own faces set in concern and worry.
Or was he oblivious? Could he feel the support and caring around him? Did he know that his friends would do whatever it took to help him? Did he know that they would give everything they had to turn back the clock and change things so none of this would have happened?
If Hermione could have, she would beg McGonagall to ask the Ministry to give her back the Time-Turner so she could do so. The fact that she knew, logically, that things didn't work that way was the worst feeling in the world. For once, Hermione Granger didn't want to be logical.
It was now Thursday evening, and ever since Healer Dixon's diagnosis yesterday morning, Hermione's emotions had vacillated between fear, concern, anger, guilt, and resolve. The anger she felt was not at all directed at Harry - no, it was towards herself. She was Hermione Granger, the girl who observed and worked out everything. Last year, Professor Lupin had called her the brightest witch of her age. She was known as the school's biggest bookworm, and she knew that many didn't like her because they thought her a swat and a know-it-all.
But now, she didn't know how to help her best friend when he needed it most. She knew he hadn't been doing well mentally, but didn't realize the severity of it until it was too late. And now, he lay here before her, looking for all the world like he was having the most wondrous dream. The world could be ending right now and he'd still look exceedingly peaceful.
And Hermione did feel like her world was ending. Yesterday, she, Ron, and Neville had managed to get out of classes and spend the entire day with him until Madam Pomfrey made them leave in the evening. This morning, they'd come back to visit him again, but Madam Pomfrey told them that it had been arranged that others would spend the day with him and she and her friends needed to go back to classes. Needless to say, they'd fought fiercely against the arrangement. For once, Hermione couldn't have given a hoot about missing class. Harry took priority over any information she could possibly learn. None of it mattered if she couldn't help Harry.
But then, right before she and her friends had had to leave, Molly Weasley had walked into the hospital wing. Ron's mouth had gaped open in shock at seeing her. "What are you doing here, Mum?" he'd asked in surprise.
"Coming to be with Harry, of course." The look on Molly's face had been full of tenderness and concern as she reached Harry's bedside. Her feelings about him were written all over her face - it was plain to see how much she cared. It made Hermione feel a little better; Dumbledore must have set it up so that Molly would come and spend time with him. Harry needed people who cared around him - that was what Healer Dixon had said, and obviously, Molly was here to fill that role.
Reluctantly, the three of them had gone to class, although they were loathe to leave Harry. And Hermione certainly wasn't looking forward to answering the thousands of questions they knew students would have about where they'd been all day yesterday and why Harry wasn't with them.
Thankfully, the students had only been able to ask questions for about two minutes, as their first class, Charms, started promptly. But that didn't take away the pain she felt in her heart as Lavender and Parvati, especially, badgered them in earnest. Hermione was grateful that she hadn't had to deal with them first thing this morning, as she'd gotten up and left the dormitory before they even awoke.
"Where were you?" Lavender demanded. "What in Merlin's name happened?"
"Something's wrong with Harry again, isn't it?" Parvati asked. "You three look horrible, and Harry's not here. What's going on?"
"He wasn't ... Kissed by the Dementor, was he?" Lavender suddenly looked absolutely horrified - her face had gone white.
"No." Neville said quietly. "He wasn't Kissed."
"Then what happened?" Dean Thomas asked. Hermione couldn't help but notice that Seamus had stayed silent through this whole exchange. She could see the guilt plainly written on his face for his harsh, rude words two days previously.
"Look," Hermione said, unable to keep the sadness out of her voice. "Harry's just ... not doing well after the Dementor attack. You know how badly those things affect him."
"What do you mean, not doing well? What's wrong with him?" Parvati's voice was shrill now. "We know you're his best friends," she continued, a definite sneer in her voice. "But you three are so ... guarded about him. It's like you enjoy keeping us in the dark about what's going on with him. We care about Harry, too!"
"No, you don't." Neville's voice was quiet, and there was anger in his eyes as he stared at Parvati. "You care about his fame and fortune. You care about his celebrity status. Do you think I've forgotten how you acted when the Chamber of Secrets was opened? Or how you treat him when he doesn't meet your expectations exactly? You lot forget that Harry's actually human," he said, his eyes so sad in that moment. "He's not just an idol you can hero worship. Stuff happens to him - really bad stuff. And instead of accepting him for who he is, you just make it worse."
Hermione gaped at Neville with pure admiration, and Ron, who was standing to her right, was looking at him in shock, and guilt was mixed into the expression. Hermione wondered briefly if Neville had partly been speaking to Ron, too - the redhead certainly seemed to think so, and Hermione was glad for it. She'd been afraid to confront Ron concerning his feelings about Harry, and Neville had turned out to be braver than she could ever be.
Parvati went completely quiet, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. "Neville?" When she finally spoke, her voice was tiny. "What happened to you?"
Neville stared at Parvati, his stance not faltering one inch. "Nothing happened, Parvati," he said quietly. "I can see that Harry's real, and you can't. That's all."
It was then that Professor Flitwick came into sight, and he sensed the tension in the atmosphere as he stared around at all of them. None of the group said anything else, and slowly, he lifted his wand and unlocked the classroom door, beckoning them all inside.
Classes had gone by very, very slowly. During break, Hermione had dashed to the library - that had been her motto for years, after all, even when she'd been at her Muggle school - when all else fails, go to the library. Ron had been known to make fun of her on several occasions for this, but this time, he didn't even make a comment about it. He just nodded when she said that was what she was going to do. He'd honestly looked sad, as if he knew she wouldn't find anything to help Harry in there.
And she hadn't. She'd glanced through the table of contents of several books on the mind and found absolutely nothing on what to do for someone who was trapped in theirs. Was it so rare that it hadn't been written about? Was Harry, once again, an anomoly? Well, that Healer had seemed to know what was going on.
"You can't find everything in books, Hermione." Ron's disparaging comment from last year flitted through her mind. As rude as he'd sounded when making it, this time he was right, and Hermione hated it. Desperation clawed through her - she wanted a definite answer, a solution. She wanted something concrete, like her discovery that the monster in the Chamber of Secrets was a basilisk and that it was moving through the pipes in order to achieve its goal. She wanted to come back to Ron and Neville with a plan for how to bring Harry back to them. But there was nothing - and she'd blinked back a torrent of tears as she reluctantly left the library - the place that had finally failed her - and went to her next class, feeling worse than ever.
At lunchtime, all three of them had gone back to visit Harry. They'd entered the hospital wing to find Mrs. Weasley sitting by his bedside, holding his hand and quietly talking to him. Hermione, Ron, and Neville listened to her gentle voice as she spoke of when the boys and Ginny had been younger. She told stories of their childhood, of Quidditch accidents and scraped knees, of Arthur bringing his children to the Ministry and what mayhem the twins had gotten up to. She then spoke of how amazed she'd been when Harry had asked her how to get onto the train platform, and how she hadn't realized it was him at first. She spoke of how pleased she'd been when Harry came to the Burrow for the first time, giving Ron a look that plainly said she hadn't forgotten just how he, Fred, and George had retrieved him - they'd stolen the flying car and it was lucky that they hadn't gotten in an accident, like the time when they'd flown it to Hogwarts and it had crashed into the Whomping Willow.
None of them interrupted her as Molly continued to regale Harry with stories of the Weasley family. She stroked the boy's hair, constantly touching his face and holding his hand. She was honestly acting like she was Harry's mother. Hermione watched the numerous expressions pass across Ron's face, and she couldn't help but notice that envy was one of them, although guilt would instantly replace it when he caught himself. Neither Hermione nor Neville were bothered by Mrs. Weasley's presence - if anything, they were glad for it. Harry deserved to be cared about so tenderly by someone. In fact, the scene brought tears to Hermione's eyes several times.
Madam Pomfrey, who would usually get rather annoyed by constant visitors in the hospital wing, seemed not to mind at all this time. In fact, she made sure that lunch was provided for them, as she realized that they weren't about to go to the Great Hall. And she did it again for dinner, as, straight after classes, the three of them returned, only glaring at students who questioned them in the corridors. Harry's condition was none of their business - it wasn't something to gossip about.
Mrs. Weasley had left when they returned, so now, it was just the three of them. They'd brought their homework with them, and talked about it quietly with Harry as they worked on it together, as if he could hear them. He had still shown no signs of waking up anytime soon, and if Hermione thought about this too much, she thought the panic, fear, and concern inside her would drive her wild. So, instead, she talked about what had gone on that day and gently held his hand.
Anyone observing the scene might think she was developing romantic feelings for him, but honestly, she wasn't. Harry was the brother she'd never had, and holding his hand seemed so natural. There were no complicated feelings involved at all - just a sister being there for her brother while he was wrestling his demons.
It was so hard not to focus on feelings of failure. She was failing Harry, wasn't she? He still wasn't waking up and she didn't know what to do. All the knowledge she'd ever obtained, all the research she'd ever done - nothing had prepared her for something like this. No Arithmancy problem could solve it. No spell she knew how to cast could make Harry open his eyes. No potion could revive him. All she could do was sit and talk to him and hope he could hear her.
But she knew Ron and Neville weren't coping any better. Ron was fluctuating between several different emotions, and Neville just looked so sad and lost that Hermione wanted to hug him. She thought back to how he'd spoken to Parvati that morning and felt pride blossom inside her. Harry had really changed Neville for the better, and he was doing him proud.
When Madam Pomfrey told them to leave the hospital wing for the night, they did not want to do so. Once again, she reassured them that "others" would be keeping watch over him during the night. But they didn't see anyone else walk in, as they had seen Mrs. Weasley do this morning. So who was Madam Pomfrey talking about?
She couldn't help but think of Professor Snape as she squeezed Harry's hand, whispering goodbye to him. "We'll be back in the morning. We promise," she told him softly, never having meant anything more.
Snape was such a ... strange enigma. The newspaper article about his Patronus still resounded in her mind. The conclusions she was drawing about its similarity to Harry's ... it made her feel strange.
She had always known that there was more to Snape after first year. Her simple view of him, as a very bad man who was trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone for You-Know-Who, had been proven to be very wrong indeed. Over the following years, she couldn't help but watch him. She saw the cruel, callous way in which he treated Harry, but she couldn't help the odd feelings that arose within her about him sometimes. Ron and Harry spoke of him with such anger in their voices, not seeing past the surface - but Hermione saw something she couldn't quite put her finger on. It drove her completely insane - she was always one for working people out, but Snape was nothing more than a jumble of confusion.
And this year ... Harry had seen it, too. Hermione would never forget when he'd told her about staying in his quarters, and how he'd actually acted civil. Then, Harry had returned from a detention looking like something enormous had happened and he'd been shaken to his core, but he refused to talk about it. Then, Snape had started ignoring him in class, something even Hermione thought she'd never see. Harry had always ignited some sort of reaction from Snape, and then, he wasn't even looking at him.
And then, there had been Harry's poisoning. Hermione had never seen anyone act so quickly. The way he'd gotten that bezoar into Harry's mouth would always shock her. And, later, when Harry had been moments away from death, he'd saved him again. And then, the next day, Harry had told her that Snape had been there when he had woken up.
And now ... this. Snape had produced a silver doe Patronus in front of everyone in the Ministry. And Hermione knew Harry's Patronus was a stag. She knew it was no coincidence - it had to mean something. What, precisely, did it mean?
She, Ron, and Neville made it several steps down the corridor after leaving the hospital wing when they heard footsteps coming from the other direction. It was as if her thoughts had summoned him - Snape was walking towards them.
"Professor?" Hermione's voice seemed so loud in the corridor. "Oh, good. Are you going to see Harry?"
Ron gaped at her like she'd gone mad, while Neville showed no reaction. Snape seemed to quicken his pace and brushed past them, not answering Hermione's question. But it was obvious - he didn't need to.
After he was out of earshot, Ron rounded on Hermione. "Oh, good?" he mimicked. "You're okay with bloody Snape sitting with him? He'll only hurt him again - Harry will never bloody wake up now."
Before Hermione could respond, Neville did. "Snape saved his life," he said quietly. "If not for him, Harry would have been Kissed."
"STOP IT!" Ron fumed. "I've been thinking about this ever since we left here last night! I wanted to think there was something good about Snape, but all he's done is hurt Harry! I've been trying to give him a chance, but he's just proven himself to be nothing more than a greasy git again! Did you see the look on his face just now? He doesn't want to spend time with Harry - he looks like he's being forced to!"
"Ron?" Hermione's voice was soft - every atom of her body was telling her to be confrontational. But she took a deep breath; now was not the time to get into an argument. She laid a hand on his shoulder, feeling the tension, anger, and fear for Harry thrumming through his body. "Please, don't get angry."
Ron stared at Hermione with blue eyes that were so raw with pain and desperation. "Hermione, I don't understand." His voice was now soft as well. "Snape's saved Harry more than once now. He always seems to be there when Harry needs him. His Patronus is a doe. Harry's is a stag. But he's so ... so cruel. Remember the time when Harry was recovering from being poisoned and we saw him looking so devastated that one day? I reckon it was because Snape saw him and said something really awful. He refused to answer our questions that day, but a few days later he was acting really oddly. It was the day before he returned to classes. He said he was sorry for putting us in danger when we went to rescue the Philosopher's Stone, and he wouldn't answer when we asked him why the bloody hell he was apologizing to us when it was our decision to go with him. He didn't bloody force us to, you know?" His voice grew even quieter. "I don't understand," he repeated. "And now, Snape's going to the hospital wing when Harry's ... when he's ... like this. I don't trust him."
And then, he told Hermione and Neville about his first detention with Malfoy, where Snape had been overseeing it. He mentioned something he had never told them before - that he'd told Snape not to hurt Harry. "And he did!" His voice was laced with fury. "He did, and I bet that's why Harry's like this! And now that greasy, slimy git is only going to make things worse!"
Unable to think of anything else to do, Hermione embraced Ron right there in the middle of the corridor. His worry and fear for Harry was so heartfelt that she couldn't be angry with anything he'd just said. As a matter of fact, it made all the sense in the world to her. And his bravery in actually telling Snape not to hurt Harry ... Ron might have some jealousy issues, and Neville's words this morning might have been partly directed towards him, but it was obvious how much he still cared for Harry. Hermione couldn't help the tears that streamed down her face.
Neville looked devastated as he stood there, not knowing how to comfort both of them. Hermione, feeling more vulnerable than she ever had before, reached out to him too. There the three of them stood, Harry's best friends, feeling raw and desperate and flayed wide open, unable to figure out what to do.
"How do we wake him? How do we bring him back to us?" Ron's blue eyes held an endless amount of pain. "How do we fix this?"
"We do what Healer Dixon says, Ron." Hermione whispered. "That's all we can do."
"But it's not helping. He still hasn't woken up." Ron looked like he could collapse any moment - he suddenly seemed so world-weary and exhausted.
"Healer Dixon warned us that it wouldn't happen right away, Ron," Neville said quietly. "And we can't rush him, remember? We have to let him take his time. Otherwise, we'll just make things worse."
"I know, Neville." Ron sighed, some of the tension evaporating from him as Hermione and Neville kept him in their embrace. "I just ... don't know what to do."
"Neither do I," Hermione whispered, and she thought it might be the first time in her life that she'd ever admitted such a thing, and shame wormed its way inside her. She was Hermione Granger - she was supposed to have a plan for all situations.
Ron gazed at Hermione, the expression in his eyes suddenly full of understanding. Hermione realized that he knew how much it had cost her to say this out loud. And Hermione knew then that even though she thought, at times, that Ron didn't understand her at all, this moment had proven her wrong. "We'll figure out something." He squeezed her shoulder as Harry's three friends finally let go of one another.
"Let's get back," Neville said extremely reluctantly. "It's past curfew."
Ron and Hermione nodded, not at all worried about getting caught. If they did, they'd deal with it. That was the least of their worries right now.
So, slowly, they headed back to the Gryffindor common room, all three resolving to do what they must. The world felt entirely wrong, the foundations of it cracked and broken. But if there was one thing all three of them knew, it was that they would do whatever it took to fix it.
