Chasing a Dream

Chapter 4

There's Still Hope

Harry stared open mouthed at the door Hermione was just rushed through. He jumped to his feet and got a bad case of head rush. Margaret turned and stared at Harry.

"Hermione? Your Hermione?!"

Harry nodded his head, lost for words. He felt as if someone had exploded fireworks in his stomach. She's alive. She's ALIVE!!! Oh my God, she's alive! I haven't lost her!

I haven't lost Hermione, my Hermione.

Harry's head was light and the room started spinning. The room started spinning faster and faster until he felt the immediate need to sit down. He backed up the where he'd been sitting, eyes still on the door, and went to sit down and missed the chair.

All Harry felt was a rush as if he was flying backward. His head made contact with the side of the wooden bench he'd been sitting on earlier. He collapsed on the floor, unconcious.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Harry. Harry, wake up." A woman's voice was saying from somewhere over his head. Harry opened his eyes and blinked into the light shining down into his face.

Margaret was bent over Harry, smiling gently.

Harry felt an intense pain in the side of his head as he struggled to sit up. He blinked and looked around the room. It was white like everything else in the hospital, and full of unused muggle hospital devices. Mr. Weasley was reading a newspaper in the corner looking slightly pale. The room was dimly lit, however, there was one window and Harry was surprised to see that the sun was already setting.

"How long was I out?"

"About four and a half hours."

"That long!"

Harry suddenly remembered why he had been unconcious in a hospital bed. "Hermione! Where is she? Is she hurt? Is she alright? When can I see her?" He asked urgently.

Margaret looked at him uneasily.

"There have been some, er, difficulties."

"What kind of "difficulties"?"

"I'll leave that to Mr. Weasley to explain."

Margaret got up and walked out of the door. Mr. Weasley set down his paper and walked slowly over to Harry's bed.

"Mr. Weasley?"

Mr. Weasley looked at Harry with a strange look in his face, not sad but not one that would bring good news. Harry stared unblinkingly back. Mr. Weasley sighed.

"Well, Harry, there's good news and there's bad news."

"Good news first."

"She's alive."

Harry exhaled deeply. He looked at Mr. Weasley and nodded then he asked rather reluctantly.

"How bad's the bad news?"

"Pretty bad."

"Ok. I'm ready."

"It's like this, Harry. She is alive, true, and in the time you were unconcious they were able to mend all of her physical wounds. However, she has gone into a state of mental shock. She can't recognize anybody and is at this time incapable of speech. She is very fragile and the only way for her to regain some of her old self is to place her in familiar surroundings. We can't use magic because it might push her deeper if we try. She has a very bad head injury. She is small and afraid and almost completely catatonic so far. She hasn't been doing anything but blinking and breathing. She was terrified of me when she saw me, so don't be alarmed if she acts the same way with you.

Poor girl, she lost everything. She's an orphan now, like you were but she has no one to turn to. No family. I imagine she'll be sent to an orphanage once she's regained the ability to think. I've already called Molly. I'm sorry, Harry."

Harry took a few deep breaths. She's alive, that's all that matters. He looked up at Mr. Weasley.

"There's still hope?"

"Oh, yes. There's still hope."

"When can I see her?"

"Now, if you like."

"Let's go."

Harry got gingerly to his feet and followed Mr. Weasley out of his room and down the hall. They came to a stop in front of a door of steel.

Mr. Weasley pushed his way inside and Harry was surprised to see Mrs. Weasley and Ron already inside.

The other thing he saw made him choke up inside. Hermione was sitting in a corner of the room on a examining table. Her appearance was actually better than some of her days at Hogwarts, her hair brushed neatly. She'd look exactaly the same if it weren't for her eyes, those empty, eerie eyes and pale skin.

Ron stood up and walked over to Harry. "Been like that for hours. She freaked out when I got near her but calmed down when I walked away. I wouldn't go over there if I were you," he whispered.

This only made Harry more determined than ever. He walked slowly over to the table and a sudden movement from Hermione made him jump in surprise.

She was gazing up at him strangely. Harry looked into her eyes as if staring down a hippogriff. Her pupils dialated and contracted. Harry took a step foward and sat down lightly next to her.

She didn't move. Harry looked at her sadly. Hermione didn't make hardly any movement at first, she just stared at Harry with that strange look in her eyes. Harry swallowed the lump forming in her throat.

Hermione parted her lips slightly and her fingers twitched. The doctor, the Weasleys, and Margaret stood in the background, watching anxiously.

Hermione's hand lifted slowly and shakily off her lap and reached out just as slowly and shakily to touch his face. Her fingers were centimeters from his face. Everyone in the room was holding their breath. Her hand hesitated, reached out and...

Bam!

The steel door burst open and the dissagreeable old man stepped in, a scowl on his face. All eyes in the room turned argrily towards him, for as soon as the door burst open, Hermione had withdrawn her hand again and slipped into her catatonic state.

"What's the big idea, storming around the hospital like that!?!?!" Margaret looked beside herself with fury. Harry just stared at Hermione. She almost... So close... So close!!!

A small cry of frustration escaped his throat.

The doctor tending to Hermione forced the old man to leave and turned to Harry. His eyes were smiling slightly.

"Well, Harry, I think we're on to something here! She was about to make physical contact. I must say that this is a pleasant surprise. Would it be too much to ask you to stay here with her tonight. She might be frightened in the night and you're the only one she'll allow near her."

"Of course I will!"

"Good. If she does anything strange, anything communative, tell me first thing tomorrow morning. Just tell me everything. Don't leave anything out. My assistant will conjure up cots for the two of you but something tells me she isn't going to be sleeping. I'll leave everything to you."

And after the Weasleys and Margaret said good night, they were alone. The lights went out and Harry went over and sat down by her again. She turned to look at him, her eyes gleaming in the starlight flooding through the window.

Harry reached out his hand, hesitating, and settled it on her shoulder. She didn't move. She didn't even blink. Her skin was cold beneath his fingers. Harry couldn't take it anymore.

He wrapped his arms around her, hugging her head to his chest and petting her hair. He had been forewarned and he hadn't heeded. It's my fault. He felt terrible. She was so cold. Harry buried his face in her hair, a tear falling from his eye.

"Get better, Hermione, get better," Harry whispered hoarsely into her hair. Harry closed his eyes against the darkness in the room. Then, he felt a light, fluttering sensation on his back as a hand settled itself there.