Hours and hours later, Harry woke with a jolt in the pitch black darkness and gave a frightened little yelp. He wasn't sure if this was from the sudden feeling of blindness - having opened his eyes to nothing but the palpable dark - or due to the searing pains in his left arm, which felt like a thousand hot, jagged knives were stabbing into the raw flesh there.
But it was with an even greater thrill of terror that he suddenly realised someone was sponging his forehead in the dark.
Harry jumped back with another shocked cry.
"Sssh, Harry. It's just me. You're safe."
Hermione's soft voice trickled into Harry's ear like a honey-toned elixir. He felt his burst of fear drain away almost instantly.
"Hermione? What are you doing here? Actually, where is here?"
"You're in the Hospital Wing," Hermione told him. It was so dark in the ward that Harry couldn't even see her face. The sound was just coming from an amorphous dark mass next to his bed, one that was still softly dabbing at his boiling skin with a cool sponge. "Lockhart tried to, er, help you. Don't you remember?"
Then he suddenly did. He huffed in the dark. "Yeah, I remember. That's probably why I thought I was blind when I woke up. Who knows what sort of damage he did to me! Sorry if I startled you."
"I wouldn't say you startled me," Hermione whispered. "Unless you count mindless relief as a form of startling. At least my heart can start again now. I'm pretty sure it was waiting for you to wake up before it began beating again."
Harry was glad for the gloom just then. It would mask the deep blush that had crossed his entire body at Hermione's shy words.
"Have ... have you been here all night?" Harry asked, realising abruptly that she must have been.
"Yes," Hermione replied simply. "I didn't want you to wake up alone."
Harry almost didn't know if he had words enough to express the sheer rush of deep affection he felt for Hermione in that moment. That she cared for him this much, to forego sleep to look after him. What was he supposed to say to that?
"But you need to sleep," Harry protested lowly. "You must be exhausted."
"I'm fine," Hermione whispered brightly, and Harry had to admit that she did sound it. "There was no way I would have been able to sleep, knowing you were here and might be hurting on your own. How do you feel, actually?"
"My arm hurts like a buggar, not going to lie," Harry winced as, right on cue, a fresh surge of cutting pains raced through his wounded limb.
"Here, drink this."
Harry felt a cloud-soft hand cup the back of his head and ease it forward delicately. Then the cool glass rim of a beaker touched at his lips.
"What is this?" Harry asked, cautiously.
"Just something for the pain," Hermione soothed. "Madam Pomfrey said it will help. I trust her."
"I trust you," Harry replied, opening his mouth and allowing the liquid to flow in. It was bitter and ice-cold, but it did distract from the fiery pin-pricks now concentrated at his elbow.
"Better?" Hermione asked, gently lowering Harry's head back to the pillow.
"Yeah, a little," Harry replied. "Thanks."
Hermione put down the beaker with a little clink, then resumed the dabbing of Harry's forehead with the sponge. Water tinkled into a basin near the bed, mixing with the sounds of rainfall outside and against the window pane, making Harry quite drowsy.
"Harry, I want to try something, but I thought I'd better ask before you let me do it."
Hermione's sudden and nervous announcement caught Harry off-guard. He moistened his lips involuntarily. Only his weird brain could have explained why it ordered that.
"W-what is it?" Harry stuttered cautiously.
"I've been doing some reading lately," Hermione began.
"Wow! I never would have guessed!" Harry teased.
"Hmm, at least your sassiness is coming back!" Hermione huffed. "But, no, I meant very specific reading. About Healing."
Harry felt his interest level tauten. "Go on."
"Well, all this business with Neville's parents returning got me thinking," Hermione began. "Plus all the Petrification that we've seen recently."
Harry saw the shape of Hermione's head turn. He couldn't have been certain, but he would have confidently guessed she was looking at Sally-Anne Perks, who was still Hospital Wing-bound, in a bed somewhere further down the ward. Then Hermione turned back to him.
"Anyway, I started thinking about all the damage offensive magic can do," Hermione continued. "We cant un-Petrify people without a complicated potion, Frank and Alice were left as mere shells after being tortured by magic. And ... I got scared. I'd hate to think of you in a state like that. I would lose my own mind not being able to help you.
"So I started reading up about Healing. Only basic things, of course, but I came across something that might be able to help you now. If you'll let me try."
"What is it?" Harry asked.
"I wont hurt you, I promise," Hermione told him hurriedly. "But I think there is something specific, between you and me, that might ease your pain."
"What is it?"
"I could be wrong, of course, so if you'd rather not ... but I don't think I am ..."
"Hermione! You're babbling! Just tell me what you want to do!"
"Oh, right. Of course," Hermione replied. "Well, it has to do with us both having Phoenix feather wand cores."
"Go on."
"I learned from Ollivander that a wand links to a wizard through the core of the wand and a certain aspect of the witch or wizard who wields it," Hermione continued. "I'm probably explaining that really badly, but essentially the wand core resonates with the core of the wizard. It might be something simple - like you have a Phoenix Rising in your astrology chart maybe - but it gives you a subtle link to the animal."
"I think I see," Harry mused. "So, say, if you have a unicorn tail hair in your wand you'd be good with unicorns?"
"Something like that," Hermione nodded. "Or that the magic of unicorns would work better with you. But with us, this is doubly true. Because we have feather cores from the same Phoenix. And, as one of the qualities of the Phoenix is the healing properties of its tears, I think there's a way to use that to help you."
"So ... what are you saying? You want to make a Phoenix cry on me?" Harry quirked. "Do you have an onion handy, or something? Or do you just intend to call it names till it balls its eyes out and looks to me for a cuddle to cheer it up!"
Hermione huffed crossly in the darkness. "Carry on, mister, and I'll break your other arm!"
Harry laughed out loud. "Do you even have a Phoenix, Hermione, to conduct this little experiment?"
"No, but I'm thinking that I might be able to use the Phoenix core of my wand to link to the Phoenix aspect of you, then pull the negative energy away from where you are hurting, then replace it - or heal it - with positive energy from me. Sort of like magical Reiki."
Harry was doubtful, but intrigued. "Will that work?"
"We wont know until we try it," Hermione sniffed haughtily. "So it's up to you, really."
Harry's wrist and fingers throbbed pointedly at that moment and he gave out a pitiful little mewl. He ached so much, and Hermione was offering a radical treatment to try and ease his suffering. He decided he was willing to give anything a go.
"Okay. Let's do it. What do you need me to do?"
"Just lay still and relax as best you can," Hermione whispered. Harry could hear the trace of excitement in her voice. Hermione liked testing herself, trying out new things. Harry felt glad that he could indulge her in this, make her happy, even though he was deeply skeptical that it would help him at all.
Hermione shifted closer to the bed. Harry could hear her soft, rhythmic breathing near to his head. He couldn't say why, but the breathy sounds in his ear caused tickly tingles to erupt all over his body. They were deliciously pleasant. He felt better already.
"I'm just going to pass my wand over your body," Hermione murmured. "Lay still."
"What are you looking for?"
"I need to assess your energy," Hermione explained. "If I'm right, I should be able to feel different intensities in your aura, sort of like dowsing, I suppose. Because of the bond of us having brother wands, I'm hoping that I'll be able to tell the bad areas from the good. If I can do that, pulling the negative energy should be easy. It'll be just like fishing."
"And the pain will go away with that?"
"I hope so, but I've never done this before. I only know the theory."
"Then cast away, Fisher-Witch!" Harry quipped.
So Hermione did. It was a very odd sensation at first, as though a barely noticeable warmth was passing over Harry's body. Every now and then it would rise in intensity, then drop away as Hermione moved to a new spot. Harry didn't feel any less pain, though, until Hermione began to focus more intently on his forearm.
"Ooh!" Hermione whispered excitedly. "I think I have one! A bit of bad energy! Ready for me to pull it?"
"Ready," Harry replied, steeling himself.
"Okay."
Hermione took a deep breath, then angled her wand purposefully. "Pluck ... and flick!"
Harry felt a light tug, as though a long hair had been tweezered away, and his arm felt a marked degree better. He wasn't sure if it was magic, or the whispered clucking sound Hermione's voice made as she slowly enunciated the words pluck and flick. They caused his body to shiver delicately all over. It was as if he were being tickled on the inside.
"Was that alright?" Hermione asked cautiously.
"Yeah, I liked that," Harry replied, still not sure quite what it was that he liked.
"Can I do it again?"
"Please do!" Harry encouraged her.
So Hermione continued with renewed vigour. Harry felt a tingly burst of pleasure with each cycle of pluck and flick. He found it severely comforting. He was just about to tell Hermione that she'd better stop before he exploded with delight, when suddenly the door to the Hospital Wing was flung open harshly.
The sudden shock of light from the corridor outside startled Harry, searing his eyes a moment. Hermione, who was shielded by the large curtain that surrounded one half of Harry's bed, stopped her spell casting at once and turned her head to look at the shadowy shapes of the newcomers silhouetted against the fabric.
There were three figures in total, two of them upright and the third horizontal, as though being carried by the other two. Harry felt his heart stop, and his fears were confirmed a moment later. Madam Pomfrey, disturbed by the abrupt disruption of her silent ward, left her office and hurried through the twilight, tying a dressing gown as she went.
"Headmaster! Professor Snape!" Madam Pomfrey gasped. "What has happened?"
"There has been another attack," Dumbledore replied gravely. "Professor Lockhart was found in this way by a group of first-years. Young Colin Creevey was posing for a photograph with members of the so-called Harry Potter Fanclub. We believe they wanted to send him a Get Well card. Gilderoy, naturally, insisted he send Harry a personal, signed card himself to cheer him up. He set up the camera, and a huge mirror, and when he looked through ... he was Petrified by what he saw."
"But what did the Petrifying, Headmaster?" asked Madam Pomfrey.
"That is the ultimate question, Poppy," Dumbledore mused grimly.
"The answer to which I insist we must now extract from Miss Granger," Snape sneered lowly. "Headmaster, I have a batch of Veritaserum in my stores. One drop should suffice for a confession. I could fetch her to you right now ..."
"No, Severus," Dumbledore cut across in a firm tone. "I will not consent to a student being potioned in such a manner. Even if Miss Granger is guilty, I would rather have her tell me of her own free volition."
"Then allow me to bring her to you for interrogation. Gryffindor Tower is close, I would be less than ten minutes."
"I need you to assess Professor Lockhart right now," Dumbledore insisted.
Then Harry noticed the Headmaster shift his position on the other side of the curtain, almost as if to block the shape of Hermione from Snape's line of sight. Hermione saw it too, and dived for cover under Harry's bed.
"Very well," Snape conceded. "But if you find Miss Granger does not have an adequate excuse or alibi for tonight ..."
"Then I shall have no option but to suspend her,"Dumbledore completed solemnly.
Hermione gave a muffled squeak that Harry tried to hide with an exaggerated groan. It seemed to work, as no-one moved to investigate.
"Headmaster - I must insist on full expulsion!" Snape protested angrily. "She has attacked a teacher! Or at least, this approximation of one."
"We have no evidence of the kind," Dumbledore argued. "Only a set of circumstances that happen to fit the facts."
Harry felt a rush of gratitude towards the Headmaster just then, for defending Hermione when he had just as much cause to suspect her.
"No evidence of what?" Snape asked dryly. "That Lockhart should be called a Professor, or that Granger attacked him?"
"Severus, please," Dumbledore admonished lightly. "I would expect such a cutting quip from one of the students, not a Head of House or faculty."
"My apologies, Dumbledore," Snape retracted. "But I am merely concerned for all inhabitants of this castle. Something, or someone, is putting them in danger. And Miss Granger is our only credible suspect."
"As touching as your anxiety for all our well-beings is, Severus, I must disagree with your definition of credible. We have no concrete proof that Hermione Granger is at all involved in this, in any reasonable way. If I choose to suspend her, it will merely be an aid to proving that. It will be for her own good, to take her away from the glare of suspicion. Then we can conduct a thorough investigation to find the truth, without looking over our shoulders as half the castle tries to take revenge on an innocent girl, for crimes she has not committed."
Harry felt his protest lodge in his throat. He couldn't shake the impression that Dumbledore was making this speech as much for himself and Hermione as Professor Snape, to offset their inevitable joint complaints later.
"May not have committed," Snape grumbled in reply. "Very well. I shall leave this in your hands, Dumbledore. However, the Board of Governors will need to be informed ... and a replacement senior Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher recruited. I could always ..."
"I already have a candidate in mind," Dumbledore replied swiftly.
"If you are going to suggest Sirius Black again -"
"No, no, I like Sirius too much for that. If the curse of the job did anything to him I rather think Mister Potter would set me on fire as I slept."
"Who then, if I may ask?"
"A very qualified replacement, if I do say so myself," Dumbledore quipped. "It has been many years since I last took the Professor's chair in a classroom ... but I'm sure it will all come flooding back to me!"
Harry was asleep when it happened.
Dumbledore thought it would be better this way, easier all round. Secretly, Hermione agreed, but she was simply distraught at not being able to say a proper goodbye to sleeping Harry. Dumbledore even consented to a Sleeping Draught being used on the other girls of Dorm Seven, so that they could be quietly moved to other beds for the night.
So in the end, as she packed to leave, it was just Hermione, Pap and Lyra, who had come to collect them from Hogwarts in the middle of the night.
"You believe I'm innocent, don't you?" Hermione sniffed to Lyra. "I haven't done these things they're saying. Honest."
"Of course I believe you," Lyra replied staunchly. "Or even if you have, you haven't been in control of your actions. This isn't your fault, sweetheart."
Hermione smiled weakly, wiping her eyes with Harry's scarlet and gold Gryffindor scarf as she folded it into her little travel bag. She hoped he wouldn't mind her borrowing it. There was no more Quidditch until next term, so Harry had no reason to be silly and spend time outdoors, getting himself all cold. He could always cast some emerald fire if he did. Hermione would have to make sure to leave him one of her jars before she went, so he could carry her flame.
Maybe he could use the fire on the monster if he ever came across it.
"Oh, Pap!" Hermione cried suddenly, scooping the cat into her arms. "I cant do it! I can't leave Harry! What if something happens to him while I'm gone? What if the monster gets him?"
"Don't think like that!" Lyra yelped, hurrying over and drawing Hermione into a crushing hug. "He'll be fine."
"You d-don't know t-that!" Hermione sobbed. "Oh, Lyra! He's in so much danger! They all are. What if the monster wants to get him and I'm not here to help?"
"The teachers will make sure Harry's alright," Lyra insisted, though she didn't sound certain.
"I'll stay," Papageno whispered, though it was barely audible.
"They haven't done a good job so far!" Hermione shrieked, not seeming to hear anything but her rampaging panic. "Not with Myrtle or Sally or Professor Lockhart! What makes it any more likely they'll be able to protect Harry!"
"I'll stay, watch over him."
"They'll be more vigilant now," Lyra asserted. "They'll have to be, after a teacher was attacked."
Hermione shook her head. "Not good enough. Not good enough at all! I can't go, Lyra. I just can't!"
"I'll stay," Pap tried again, a little louder this time. Still nothing.
"You have to, Hermione," Lyra reminded her sadly. "They've suspended you."
"But I cant ... they cant ... cant you -"
"I will stay with Harry!" Papageno shouted. Finally, he had made himself heard. Hermione and Lyra turned in their silence to look at him. "I'll stay. I can keep an eye on him, make sure he's safe. You go ... and I'll stay here with Harry ... if he'll have me."
Hermione blinked at her dæmon, weighing up the offer, knowing his last words were her own rephrased from the other purpose in her mind. It wasn't really an offer, of course. They were one, Hermione and her Pap ... they had already decided what they were going to do, even if they hadn't voiced it aloud yet.
"You can stay with Harry," Hermione stated dully. "Are you sure?"
"You know I am."
"And you'll watch over him?"
"Day and night, if he'll let me."
"And keep him safe?"
Papageno rose up as big as he could get. "Even if it means scratching out the eyes of that basilisk myself!"
"Oh Pap!" Hermione cried, hugging her dæmon as tight as she could manage. "My heart! My love! I love you! You will be careful, wont you?"
"Harry will look after me, and I'll look after him," Papageno reassured her.
"I know you will!" Hermione cooed into his fur. "Oh, Pap ..."
"I know, I know," he replied softly, butting his squashed head against Hermione's chin affectionately. "It'll be okay. And then, at Christmas, we'll have a big reunion and everything will be well!"
"Yes! We definitely will!" Hermione nodded vigorously. "Oh. Oh, my. Well, I suppose I'd better write Harry a note, let him know you're staying with him. I hope he wont mind ..."
"Of course he wont," Papageno replied confidently. "Just try not to get too jealous if I make him give me lots of hugs and cuddles! It gets very cold up here during December, you know!"
"Oi! Don't tease!" Hermione laughed gently, playfully swatting at her dæmon. "Now, where's my quill? We don't have much time."
