Author’s Note: Sorry it took a while (again) to update. But I had some stuff to do and after I sent this to Laura the first time I decided I didn’t like it. So I changed it and had to send it to her again and plus, as weird as it may seem, I actually have a life (well, not really) that needed attending to so, yeah. Plus I got a laptop I was writing on but it didn’t (and still doesn’t) have wireless Internet. So, I have to use a pen drive and-Oh. Whoops. I’m rambling. Yeah, onto the peoples.

Thanks so much to my new reviewers, and old. I love you all! (-huggles-) But this is a little weird because (in my personal opinion) I think this story is like 10 times better (plot-wise seeing as I actually planned this story! –gasps-) But for some reason it only has, like, a tenth of the popularity my other story (Concrete Angel) has. It puzzles me. Care to add on, my wonderful Beta, Laura?

Laura’s Note: Guess her age people! Come on…I guess…25! Go people go! Guess, guess, guess! I know her real age and that’s not it! Yes I’m random. LIVE WITH IT! La-dee-la-dee-DA! That random enough for you Sam? Huh? HUH?! When do I get paid? I want the dough woman! Dough is for cookies…I’ll accept those too! Lol –plays along with own sarcasm-

Author’s Note: I’m scared…

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A few days later, Harry hadn’t moved. He just knelt there, touching Hermione’s hand, face, or forehead. He lightly brushed her hair to the side of her face and softly whispered reassurances in her ear. His entire world was crashing, and so was he.

He had never felt so alone. Nothing was worth the light of day. He didn’t care about about anything, except Hermione. Only her face, as beaten up as it was, comforted him in any way he could be comforted. She was alive, beaten, nearly raped, attacked, abused mentally, physically, and sexually, and neglected, but she was alive all the same and that was all that mattered.

Ron had been awake for a while, he’d only been unconscious for a few minutes, but had been delirious by a medication given to him by a fourth year student on accident. Harry had been sitting with Hermione for a half hour by the time he was alert enough to see Hermione.

By then, the staff had brought in a few new machines, which according to the doctors, breathed for her. But if she didn’t improve, or got worse they would have to bring in something else to put oxygen in her blood and it was only for rock bottom situations.

Ron tried to think positive, but he thought it was near impossible. After all, he still loved Hermione. Even after they had broken up, he still felt protective of her like an older brother. So, even though he felt otherwise, he stayed positive around everyone else, especially Harry.

It didn’t take a genius to realize this was hitting Harry hardest. He never spoke or left Hermione’s bedside. He’d refused all food and rarely slept. It had taken its toll. Bags under his eyes looked permanent, he was growing thinner everyday and felt guilty he’d hadn’t protected her from what had happened.

After a week of this self-inflicted abuse, Ron told a doctor what was happening. It had taken several St. Mungo employees, but finally after twenty minutes of struggling, they forced Harry out into the waiting room where the Order took over and forced him into a chair. After a few more minutes of struggling, involving a large bruise on Lupin’s upper arm and a black eye on Ron, Harry calmed down a little and the Order could restrain him without causing much commotion. Finally, after ten more minutes, Ron forced him to drink some water and eat a piece of bread but Harry refused any more.

Ron was getting steadily angrier. Couldn’t he see the damage he was causing himself wasn’t helping Hermione at all? “Harry you git! What good are you to Hermione by starving yourself and not sleeping? You know she’d slap you for doing this to yourself! Pull yourself together so you can focus on helping her instead of worrying what’s going to happen if she doesn’t get better! She will, but she needs you to keep a calm head and help!” By then, Ron’s face was red and Harry just there, panting and staring at the floor.

After a few moments, Ron had calmed down and felt guilty about what he said. He knew he’d meant what he said, but it didn’t help Harry at all. His friend couldn’t control what he felt and he, Ron, should be helping him through the bad times, instead of keeping him in them. “Harry?” He asked cautiously, “I’m sorry…are you alright?”

Harry sat there, still, and Ron was scared Harry hadn’t heard him until a single, stray tear rolled down the boy’s cheek and onto the floor.

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Sarafina was at loss for words. The woman hadn’t seen a case this bad in all her life. The girl in front of her was the sole definition of hanging onto life by a thread, a term she used often enough, but never saw, until today.

This girl was the single most astounding patient all of St. Mungo’s had ever seen, for her body simply refused to function with magic. Her life was held only by old muggle machinery that frequently went haywire with all of the magic around. It was a large miracle she’d been alive when she’d arrived, let alone the fact she was alive now.

No witch or wizard anyone had ever seen had refused magical treatment. It was usually the muggle treatments that a rare few pureblood seniors had trouble with, but it wasn’t a problem since ninety-nine percent of the few who fit the category refused to receive muggle treatment. Yet, against all odds, here was a young woman, probably not even in her twenties, who couldn’t receive the treatments they had to offer. The only thing they’d been able to do was check her vital signs using a mix of muggle and magic holograms directed with an incantation.

Sarafina rubbed her temples as she thought. It was stressful trying to save lives, especially since He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named came back because their patients had doubled and supplies were slowly becoming harder to come by. Ms. Granger was lucky that St. Mungo’s had a few contacts, otherwise the machinery keeping her alive wouldn’t be there.

Sarafina jumped as Hermione’s heart rate suddenly increased spectacularly then decreased almost as quickly. It was a bizarre event, by an unknown cause. Yet, it was enough to do some good, as Hermione, for the first time in weeks, communicated with the outside world with a single weak word.

“Harry…”

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“Harry…”

Ron was at loss for words. He tried gripped Harry’s shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze as though to say It’s alright. I’m here. But Harry jumped up suddenly; after feeling his stomach drop, and the chair he was sitting on had fell over on top of Ron.

Harry whipped around, picked up the chair, and helped Ron up so quickly it scared the people around him. Throwing the chair back in place he ran toward and out the door with a single word. “Hermione.” Ron gave frightened glances to the Order, who were equally scared by Harry’s actions. It was a few stunned moments before Ron finally had the sense to follow his best friend.

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Harry raced down the main hall and down Hermione’s. He threw open the door, shocking the brown-haired woman inside and nearly collapsed by her bedside. “Hermione…” He whispered softly. “What happened…”

“Mr. Potter,” The healer finally stammered, a hand held against her racing heart. “How in the world did you get here so fast?”

Harry tore his eyes away from Hermione for a moment to stare at the Healer. “I was only down the hall.”

“But how did you know?”

“Know what?”

“That Ms. Granger-”

“Harry…” Both of them glanced back at Hermione who was slowly stirring. Harry grabbed her hand in his and placed his other hand on her cheek.

“Yeah, Mione. I’m here.”

Then, for the first time in weeks, Hermione’s eyes fluttered open. Harry felt his stomach drop. “Mione, oh, Mione.” He softly kissed her forehead, staying clear of any cuts. “I-I-I’ve missed you so much. Oh, you have no idea how worried we were and-I can’t believe it.” He pulled out his wand and hers, placing hers on the bedside table and murmured something so a small jewelry box appeared in his hands. He opened it to reveal a ring, a white gold band her name engraved on it in script. In the middle of the ring, was a large diamond.

Hermione’s eyes sparkled. “Oh, Harry. I-it’s b-b-beau-beautiful.” Harry took her right hand and slipped the ring on her ring finger. “I l-l-love it.” Hermione gave him as big a smile as she could manage with out wincing, ignoring the stabbing, shooting pain throughout her body. Struggling for her voice she tried to piece together a sentence. “I’ve…mi-missed you t-t-too, Harry. I-”

She was cut off mid-sentence by Ron barging in. “Harry.” He panted. “What the bloody hell just happened?! You can’t just storm out of there and barge in here scaring us half-to-death like that! You-hello.” He looked at Sarafina as though just noticing she were there. “Um, Ron Weasley.” He stuck out it hand and she shook it, though eyeing him suspiciously. “I’m Hermione’s boyfriend.”

Harry felt his blood start to boil but tried to calm down for Hermione’s sake. He’d wring Ron ‘s neck later. “Sa-”

They were interrupted yet again, by the Order coming in. But since they can calmer heads they had the decency to knock before calm filing in and quietly shutting the door. “What’s going on?” Lupin asked observing the boys’ positions.

All were silent until Sarafina spoke up. “Well, as I was telling Mr. Potter, it appears something has changed. Ms. Granger is awake.”

Everyone stared down at Hermione whose eyes were now gently closed.

“What are you talking about?” Ron gave Sarafina a look as though to say Is this some sick joke, But Harry vouched for her.

“It’s true. Well, she was. Until someone barged in.”

Ron opened his mouth about to give Harry a piece of his mind but Lupin quickly intervened, foreseeing the conflict. “It doesn’t matter anymore. We can’t change the past, only the future. Speaking of which, Mrs…”

“Ms., sir. Just Ms. My name is Sarafina. I was this ward’s healer until Ms. Granger arrived. I’m now one of her personal healers.”

“Personal healers?” Ron asked incredulously.

Sarafina nodded. “Unusual, but not unheard of. It’s happened before. With some of the more worse of patients and some of the long term patients we’ve had personal healers. We maybe have two or three cases every five years or so. But it’s only temporary until they improve.”

“Back to Hermione.” Harry interrupted loudly.

Lupin made a move to say something to Harry but Tonks grabbed his hand, holding him back.

Sarafina almost lost her patience. Some people…Learn some manners kid. She had a mental picture of the new student healer, Holly, smirking at him before making a smart retort. She smiled at the vision and managed to remain cool and collected with the impolite and impatient visitor. “She’s fine for the time being. Now, Mr. Potter,” Feeling the need to politely put him in his place, “I suggest we leave her reawaken in a more serene setting.”

“And how do you suggest we do that?” Harry snapped.

“Well,” She replied smugly. “For starters, a quiet environment.” She whispered the last two words for emphasis. “Then, only two or three visitors at a time.” She gave the Order a superior glance before finishing. “Then, letting her heal in peace and not pestering her, when she awakes, with questions that are not of absolute importance. She needs no reminding of what she’s been through just yet, possibly not ever. But at least until she’s healed.”

“You aren’t doing anything!” The boys shouted in unison.

“She just lying there-”

“You’re just sitting around-”

“How can you call this a hospital-”

“This is an outrage-”

“Boys,”

“I can’t believe this-”

“No respect-”

“You’ll hear from my lawyer-”

“Nothing’s been happening since we got here-”

They stopped, stunned, and turned to look at Mrs. Weasley who smiled sweetly. “I’m sure they’re doing the best they can,” She gave Sarafina a quick glare. “But right now we have to think about what’s best for Hermione. Now, Ronald,” She gave her youngest son her well-known don’t-you-dare-mess-with-me look, “You’re going to go with your father to the ministry. They need to ask you some questions…about Hermione.” She added loudly seeing her son open his mouth to protest. “Harry they requested you as well dear but I told them you needed some time, is that alright?”

Harry nodded. “Thanks Mrs. Weasley.”

“You’re welcome, sweetie. Besides, Ron should be able to give an accurate report. The rest of the Order is going to go back to Grimmauld Place so you can have some alone time with Hermione, alright? See you soon.” She started to hustle everyone out of the room, pulling Ron with her and ignoring his protests, and called over her shoulder, “Also, if you don’t mind Healer Sarafina, I need to speak with you privately.”

Sarafina rolled her eyes at the back of Molly’s head but forced a smile as she

Followed the crowd out the door and it shut with a click behind them, leaving Harry the only conscious person in the room.

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“You’re the Dark Lord’s Mudblood now.”

A maniacal cackling…

A dark room…

A bloody field…

A flash of green light…

Hermione was drifting on the tightrope between unconsciousness and consciousness. Seeing lights, colors, and shapes, only hearing bits and pieces of what was happening…

Herhiney…

It was slowly becoming more focused. Someone’s warm hand was gently shaking her shoulder…

Herhione…

The voice, so warm and reassuring, sounded so familiar.

Hermione.

That wasn’t hard to distinguish at all.

She tried opening her eyes, but it felt like she was lifting a hundred pounds with each of them. But slowly and groggily she opened them. She still couldn’t recognize the person above her but whoever it was seemed very happy.

“Harry?” She guessed weakly.

“No,” The voice seemed hurt. “It’s Ron.”

“Oh,” She croaked, her voice was scratchy from her not using it. “Sor-”

“You don’t have to sound so disappointed.”

That hurt. She finally could clearly see and recognize his trademark red hair. She felt her stomach churn when she thought about how she’d not recognized him, but what had he expected? Her to be perfectly fine after being in a coma for weeks?

That was unreasonable.. She thought.

But he was scared. A little voice argued. He was worried about you. After all he cares about you.

But not like he should. I’ve been over this. We’re over. We just didn’t…we just weren’t…compatible.

But he loves you…The voice crooned.

If he loved me the way he should’ve, he would’ve treated me like it.

“If you don’t want to talk to me, I’ll leave. I just thought, you know, I am your boyfriend after all…” He got up to leave but Hermione shook away her thoughts and found her voice, still cracking, but louder.

“No Ron!”

He turned toward her.

“Ron, you’re not my boyfriend. We’ve been over that. We’re over.”

His face fell. “But I thought…you know, since what happened…”

“You thought wrong Ron.” Hermione said quietly, not facing him. “This doesn’t change anything. No accident can change the past.”

Ron looked crestfallen for a moment before his face started to get red and his expression more angry. “It’s him, isn’t it?”

Ron glared at her; her face with an expression of clear shock and…could it be? Fear.

“Wha-wha-what? I don’t think I understand.”

“You understand perfectly. It’s him.”

A moment passed and a look of dawning passed on Hermione’s. “Oh, you mean…well, no Ron. I don’t. Just because…I don’t.” She finished defiantly.

“Yes you do.” He said darkly. “That’s why your always hoping he’s around. You know, Hermione, you could of at least told me. Instead of cheating. I thought better of you, you little Mudblood.”

The moment he said it, Hermione realized Ron wasn’t himself. But it was a second to late as he started advancing toward her, pulling out his wand. “Ron, put your want away.” She secretly pulled out her own wand, taking all her self control not to cry out and her broken wrist and hurt shoulder screamed in agony. Her mind racing, knowing full well what could be happened. Slowly and painfully she eased out of her bed.

“Hermione, I’m going to teach you how a faithful girlfriend should act.” He raised his wand and Hermione’s mind went blank when she saw Ron’s eyes, glinting with hatred unlike himself so she did the only thing that came naturally, she screamed, but head was screaming “Stupefy!”

What happened next happened so fast it seemed her mind slowed and she saw it all in slow motion.

The door flew open and someone “Expelliarmus!” as Ron shot a silent spell at Hermione. She ducked just in time, as she felt it brush against some of the hairs on her arm, making her heart race. Ron’s wand flew out of his hand and the person had him in a headlock as Hermione’s spell hit them. Luckily, it hit Ron and not her rescuer. Then time seemed to return to normal.

It was Harry. He was panting as heavily as Hermione was and Harry gently set Ron against the wall and ran next to Hermione, holding his shaking best friend in his arms with her head rested against his chest.

“Are you alright Mione?”

“F-f-fi-fine.” She stuttered.

“No, you’re not. You don’t have to lie to me Hermione. Ever.”

She buried her face in his shirt and broke down. “What’s wrong with me Harry?” She sobbed.

He gently rubbed her back. “Nothing Hermione.” He murmured so softly all Hermione could hear was his voice and nonsensical words she couldn’t understand. “You’re the most perfect girl ever.”

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After a while, Harry moved them so they were leaning against the raised head of the bed, she was laying with her head on his chest. Hermione had calmed down and she simply buried herself in Harry’s scent, silently falling apart.

“You’re really hurting, aren’t you?” Harry ran his hand down her back sending chills down Hermione’s spine.

“I’m oka-” She stopped, remembering what Harry had said about lying. “Oh, Harry. It’s the not understanding. I don’t know what’s happening to me. I’m sorry for breaking down like this. I don’t like being a burden.”

Harry felt Hermione’s words hit him like a train. “What? Hermione,” He took her chin his hand and moved it so she was looking straight into his eyes. “You’re never a burden. Ever.”

She gave him a weak smile that she didn’t feel. She didn’t believe him. I’m weak. That’s why Voldemort could take me. That’s why I was beaten and tortured. She looked at her hands, where Harry’s ring glittered spectacularly. “Harry, I’m sorry. This is all my fault. If I’d just fought back-”

Harry felt his stomach leap. She was talking about Voldemort. For the first time since they’d found her. “Hermione, it isn’t your fault. It’s his. There’s nothing you could of done. In fact, I’m glad you did what you did. If you’d fought back enough, he’d of killed you…he would’ve killed me. I…I love you Hermione.”

Hermione looked into his eyes, two glittering pools of deep emerald. “I love you too Harry.”

Then slowly, as if by magic, their lips ment. It was beginnings and ends, it was heaven and hell, it was perfect, it was bliss, it was magic.