Caeruleum Rosae

June 30th, 2002

"Harry's awake." Ginny's voice echoed in the small hospital room, and everyone turned, staring at her as if she had grown a spare head. The sound of running feet made her head snap up as she took a step back. The door burst opened; the flood of medical personnel was astounding. Everyone was pushed out of the way as Healers in their vivid lime green robes surrounded the bed, pushing Ginny, Ron, and Hermione away from the bed. Draco's eyes widened, but he didn't move from his spot on the doorframe. Ginny looked helplessly at the room's non-medical inhabitants as tears welled in her eyes. Over the chatter of ten people all trying to make themselves heard there was one voice that didn't sound like it fit.

The voice was rough, almost unintelligible, as if it was running over sandpaper. Ginny could hear the old Harry in that voice... the voice that had been silent for four long years. "W-what happened? What's going on?" The bewilderment in his voice made her heart crack as she squared her shoulders, pushing her way into the crowd of Healers.

"Excuse me, please. I'd like to examine my patient." She steeled her voice with a quiet authority that made others turn and stare. She sat on the edge of the bed and peered at his face. "Harry?" Her voice held a million questions, ranging from stupid (Are you alright?) to the curious, (Any idea why you woke up?), with a little bit of fear (Are you still Harry? Really Harry?) tossed in for good measure. As she watched, his eyes sparked with recognition, then confusion.

"Ginny?" His forehead wrinkled as he looked around him, surrounded by Healers. "Why are you wearing Healer's robes? You look . . .." He trailed off, his eyes closing, trying to shut out the chaos.

"One of the Healers, a kind looking woman with curly brown hair, stood up. "All right. All staff please report to the library for a briefing... except you, Healer Weasley. Good job being on the ball like that, by the way." She hustled the Healers out and looked over her shoulder. "I'm sure you'll buzz if there are any problems or his readings fluctuate, correct?"

Ginny nodded. "Yes, Rebecca. And... thank you." Rebecca shook her head and smiled, the door shutting softly behind her with a click. Harry opened his eyes once silence had descended in the tiny hospital room and looked around at the stunned faces surrounding him. Everyone looked so different, somehow, even though they still looked like themselves. He cleared his throat, taking a sip of the water from a glass one of the nurses had provided. His gaze skipped over Ginny's face and ended up on Hermione.

"So, who wants to tell me what the bloody hell is going on?"

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June 30th, 1998

No. 12 Grimmauld place had been a refuge - completely unplottable, completely secret. No one really knew how the message had found its way through the tarnished brass mail slot - a simple envelope with the address scribbled by a messy hand:

Mr. Harry Potter

3rd room from the left, 2nd floor

No. 12 Grimmauld Place

No one was supposed to know of the building's existence, much less which bedrooms its occupants were sleeping in. The note contained only one word, scrawled on a piece of newspaper.

Tonight.

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Later, people would say that Harry Potter psychically knew where Voldemort was hiding, and that he knew when You-Know-Who was going to attack by the link they carried. Little did they know that he had no such help - but he did have a return address, written with careful precision on the outside of the envelope.

It seemed like the whole world rushed to Hogwarts that night; the Muggles Voldemort had kidnapped were being held there, and he was slaughtering them, using their blood in some elaborate plot. When Harry arrived with the full support of the Order of the Phoenix, the school grounds were swarming with Death Eaters. There was death on both sides - no one but Ron, Hermione, and Ginny noticed Harry trying to slip away, going alone. In the end, only Ron, Hermione, and Harry saw what happened in that clearing in the Forbidden Forest before the final showdown.

The brilliant flash of light that summoned aid was too late to provide witnesses to the spectacle, and only revealed Ron pulling himself towards Hermione, unable to walk due to his broken legs. Hermione was unconscious - on first glance, many though her dead. Her face streaked with dirt, the ground under her was dark, stained with blood from four deep puncture wounds. Blood bubbled from her lips from her punctured lung; she was barely able to gasp out that Harry seemed to be gone, as well as Lord Voldemort. As they were taken to St. Mungo's, one of the Order members noticed odd noises coming from further in the forest. They sent who remained - so many were already lost or injured. They finally found the source, and as they cautiously walked into the clearing they discovered Harry Potter locked in battle with Lord Voldemort.

They circled around each other, warily. Blood poured from Harry's scar, and he tried to wipe it from his face as Voldemort tried to gain the upper hand. Reports differed with what happened next - some said that a bolt of light struck both of them down, and some said that Harry's wand exploded, taking Voldemort with it in a brilliant flash of light. No one really knew what happened: Voldemort was gone, and Harry was left lying unconscious on the ground.

Everyone expected him to wake up in the next couple of days - after a week, the whispers started.

"Maybe he's dead, and they're just lying to us."

"Maybe You-Know-Who is still alive, and they just know it will scare us."

"Maybe he'll never wake up."

The last opinion grew stronger as time passed, the months slowly turning into years. The stream of visitors to Harry's bedside slowed, eventually dwindling to the few who really cared - Remus Lupin, Ron, and Hermione visited at least bi-weekly, and the Weasleys and Dumbledore made an appearance at least monthly. Every once in a while a school friend would drop by just to see if there was any change, but there never was. Still they came, everyone making the pilgrimage for four long years.

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Ginny couldn't stop herself from looking at his chart yet again, setting it down as she bent to check his pulse. He stared at her, looking confused. "What are you doing? And. . . ." His eyes widened as he noticed the blonde man leaning against the closed door. "What's he doing here? Why am I in St. Mungo's? Will someone please TELL ME WHAT'S GOING ON?" He tried to sit up, panic scurrying across his face. "Why can't I sit up? Someone say -something-!" His green eyes burned brightly as he gazed around the room, his brow furrowing as he looked at Ron. "How long have I been out? And since when do you wear your hair long?"

Ron nervously ran his hand over his hair, which was pulled back in a neat ponytail. "Well... Harry, you see . . .." He trailed off, looking over to Hermione with pleading eyes.

She sighed and took two steps towards Harry, running a hand over her bushy brown hair, then chose her words carefully. "You see, Harry, you've been unconscious for four years."

Her voice echoed in the tiny room, and Harry looked confused. "What? Hermione have you gone completely nutters? There's... no way I could have been out that long... is there?" He looked frantically from Ron to Hermione, his gaze settling on Draco Malfoy. "What the bloody hell is he doing here? Is this some kind of joke?" He slammed his hand onto the bed, his eye sparking with fury. "This isn't funny. Why can't I get up?" He tried to push himself up from the bed again and failed.

Placing her hand on his shoulder, Ginny pushed him back down on the bed. "Harry, please calm down. Draco's here because he's changed. He's an Auror, and is Ron's partner. We've all changed; Harry, it's been four years. You've got to expect that things have changed. You can't get up because you haven't walked or stood for so long. It'll be days until you learn to walk properly again. This isn't some kind of joke - do you really think we... I... would do that to you?" Her eyes pleaded with him as she sat on the edge of the bed, his hand held tightly in hers.

Harry looked stunned; it was if he had been struck. The color of his eyes shifted from a deep emerald to jade green as he searched the faces of those around him. No matter where he looked, all he saw were changes. Some looked different, like Ginny and Ron, while others... their eyes reflected the years he had missed. Whatever made Malfoy look at him with a spark of compassion, made Hermione's eyes hard with pain - he'd seen none of it. "W-what happened? After . . .." He trailed off, looking at his friends for answers.

Hermione rubbed her forehead and looked at Ginny. "Well... no one really knows what happened. There was a flash... and your wand exploded. Voldemort's gone, Harry. Whatever happened, he just vanished. A few of the Order members saw it, but Ron and I were being carted off to St. Mungos at that point." His eyes widened and he opened his mouth to ask another question just as he was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Healer Weasley, we need time to examine Mr. Potter - and call his next of kin and the Ministry." Rebecca walked back into the room, flanked by two other Healers. "You'll be able to return later, but for now, you are excused. If I am not mistaken, there are several others who would be thrilled by this incident...?" She trailed off, her eyes twinkling. "You are on leave for the rest of the afternoon. Good work." She walked over to the bed, and smiled at Harry. "Well, Mr. Potter! It seems you have some catching up to do." She clapped her hands, raising her voice. "Alright, everyone except on-duty personnel out!"

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Ginny leaned back against the cool stone wall and looked at Draco, Hermione, and Ron. "So what do we do now? Make some sort of... scrapbook that details the last four years?" She shook her head and rubbed her eyes. "I never quite thought this far. It was always 'if he wakes up', not 'when he wakes up.'"

Ron patted his sister on the shoulder awkwardly. "It's alright, Gin. He may flip when he finds out about your... past endeavors..." He glared at Malfoy and then cracked his knuckles. ".... But he couldn't expect you to wait for him forever. At least you... two aren't still dating." Draco glared at Ron, not saying a word. "Anyway," Ron continued, blatantly ignoring his partner, "we need to be honest. We answer any question he has. We don't dumb it down. We don't . . .." His gaze drifted to Hermione, before he yanked it away, looking back at Ginny. "We don't cover anything up."

Hermione bristled, her voice sharp. "Well, then. We should probably go and contact Remus and your parents, Ron." She pushed off the wall and headed for the exit.

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Harry sighed, opening his mouth for the fourteenth time. After the Healer finished looking at his throat, he spoke. "Look, all of you. Thanks for you concern, but I'm fine." He tried to bat away the hand going for his pulse. "Can I please just go home?" He stopped, and his forehead wrinkled. "Do I still have a home?"

Rebecca sighed and waved the other Healers away. "Of course you have a home, my dear. Why, I'm sure there's room for you with the Weasleys, or perhaps with Professor Dumbledore. Unfortunately, however, you cannot leave yet." She held up a hand to squelch his protest. "You have to at least stay over night for observation, and then we can see about renewing those muscles." She smiled at him and tucking blankets over his legs. "Now, I'm sure tomorrow will be a busy day, so why don't you get some rest?" She left him by himself, the soft glow of the monitoring spells illuminating the darkness.

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Hermione and Ron Apparated with a pop onto the doorstep in front of No. 12 Grimmauld Place. She glared up at him, her brown eyes seething in anger. "What was that all about? Don't cover anything up? You want to tell him that we broke up because of what happened to him? Fine, be my guest." She walked up to the door and banged the knocker so loud that it resonated through the house. Ron shook his head and shoved his hands into his pockets, silently fuming. The door cracked open, and Hermione's gaze dropped to the House Elf holding the door open. Her tone immediately gentled, and she smiled down at Winky. "Hello, Winky. Is Remus home?"

Winky pulled open the door, her eyes wide as she went scurrying back into the house, calling out. "Sir! It is Hermione Granger and Ron Wheezie! They are here, Gracious Sir!" She scuttled off into the kitchen as Remus emerged from the sitting room. He'd aged considerably in the last four years - the gray streaks in his hair had widened, and he continually looked exhausted. Smiling, he extended his hands in welcome.

"Ron! Hermione! How good it is to see you both." He stopped short, looking at the two of them. "Is there news?" He tried in vain to stop his voice from showing his hope.

Hermione smiled and squeezed his outstretched hand. "He's awake, Remus. Fully lucid, wanting to know what's going on. We can go back and see him tomorrow morn-" She squeaked as Remus hugged her and spun her around in a circle before moving to clap Ron on the back.

"Excellent! I didn't even dream . . .." He grinned and then his eyebrows knitted, puzzlement flitting across his face. "Any idea what woke him up?" He pulled them both into the sitting room. "Tell me everything."

Hermione sighed. "Well... I was not... doing well, today. I got more roses this morning, Remus." She stopped as she saw the question in his eyes, and sighed. "In sixth year, I was... kidnapped, I suppose, by Voldemort on December 26^th. I... got away, somehow, but a year later, at the end of December, an owl flew in with a blue rose. Ever since, I've gotten them in some way or another, but only on that day. There was a vase of them in my kitchen this morning; it's June, Remus. I never get them in June; I've always gotten them on December 26th. I rushed to St. Mungo's... I honestly thought he was dead." She quieted, and took a deep breath. After I got there, Ginny told me nothing had changed." She didn't elaborate further, and she felt Ron's gaze boring into the back of her head. There was no way she was going to tell Remus what happened to her when she had finally escaped, somehow - she didn't know exactly how, because she could remember nothing of the incident. One minute, she had been on holiday with her parents, then the next, she was lying in the courtyard of Hogwarts. She had been injured so badly they didn't know if she'd survive, or if she'd ever walk again. When the owl had flown over their heads at the Christmas feast, and had dropped the rose in her lap, she had fainted; she had no idea why, only that... it was something horrible.

Ron cleared his throat, breaking his gaze from Hermione, and continued. "Draco and I got off work and headed in, and after about five minutes, he woke up all of a sudden. Wanted to know what was going on, had no idea how long he'd been out." He scratched his head. "I don't know exactly what woke him up, though. It could have been Hermione, or it could have been some freak coincidence. I don't know."

Remus sighed, and then smiled. "Well, he's awake, and that's what matters. You two can stay here for the night, if you like, and then we can head in to St. Mungo's in the morning."

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Draco and Ginny arrived in the Weasleys' living room with a loud crack. Ginny squeaked as Charlie's daughter, Emme, slammed into her legs, chanting, "Aunt Gin! Aunt Gin! Look what I can do!" Emme's hair grew from her shoulders to the floor, and then shortened itself, changing color from red to green and back.

Ginny knelt, and hugged her niece. "What a wonderful job, Emme! Does Mummy know you can do that?" She looked up and winked at the woman standing in the doorway, who was wiping her hands with a dishtowel.

"Of course Mummy knows. She's the one who showed her how." Tonks swooped down on her daughter and picked up the squirming, giggling little girl. "Come on, angel! It's bath time!" She carted Emme upstairs, the wiggling girl slung over her shoulder.

Ginny grinned and turned towards Draco. "Let's go." She walked into the Burrow's kitchen and smiled as her mother rose to greet her. "Hello, Mum."

Molly Weasley hugged her daughter tightly and smiled at Draco over Ginny's shoulder. "Oh, hello, dear! And you brought Draco, too. Wonderful! I hope you are both hungry - dinner will be shortly." She bustled around the kitchen, getting things ready. "I didn't think you were coming until Sunday, Ginny! Why are you so early?" She started the potatoes scrubbing next to the pots and pans washing themselves and sat down with her knitting.

Ginny smiled, and her eyes sparkled. "Where's Dad, Mum? I want to tell you both." Molly sighed, and put down her knitting. "Probably in the garage. I'll get him. You get comfortable, Draco. Ginny, get Draco something to drink." She walked out into the back yard, her voice echoing through the Burrow. "Arthur! Ginny and Draco are here!"

Draco sat down and looked around. "It's been a long time since I've been here, Gin." He looked around the small room, and shook his head. "I can't even believe what Father would say if he was still alive." His pale face twisted sardonically. "Or if we were even speaking; after the whole... 'Voldemort is a complete loon' conversation, I was hardly his favourite chatting companion." He looked up as the sound of pounding feet echoed overhead. "Sounds like we'll have more then just your Mum and Dad to tell." He smirked as people started pouring into the kitchen; everyone always came to visit for the holidays. Soon, the kitchen was brimming with people: Charlie and Tonks, Bill and Fleur, Percy and Penelope, Fred and George. Molly came back in, and Arthur trailed behind her, wiping grease off his hands.

Ginny looked around at her family and said what she's dreamed of for four long years. "He's awake." The room immediately erupted in whoops and cheers, and Charlie picked Tonks up and kissed her. "We can see him tomorrow morning, but it looks like he'll be alright." Ginny grinned, and poked Draco with her foot. "This is why I wanted to be the one to tell them."

Draco grinned, and ran his hand through his hair as everyone clambered to ask questions. "Well, I hope you're happy. This could take a while."

------

Ron walked into the Kitchen of No. 12 Grimmauld Place, and stopped momentarily as he saw Hermione standing in front of the window, her skin almost glowing in the moonlight. She looked so vulnerable, so... small. He stiffened, and his forehead furrowed as his brain jumped back in time, unheeded.

-----

Ron hobbled toward her hospital bed, finally able to use crutches instead of a wheelchair. He sat in the chair next to hers, and reached out for her pale hand. She had slowly opened her eyes, and they were fogged with pain. "Ron? Is he-" She stopped, and breathed in, wincing.

Ron shook his head, and squeezed her hand, ducking his head. "He's still unconscious, Hermione." He reaches out, and gently touched her face, wishing he could do something to ease her pain. "How are you feeling?" He ran his hand down her cheek, tears pricking his eyes. "Silly question. Just... sleep now, all right? I... I love you, Hermione." She had turned her face into his hand, as if seeking his touch, the pain easing on her face as she drifted back to sleep.

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Hermione sipped her tea, staring out the kitchen window of No. 12 Grimmauld Place. She jumped as Ron settled his hand on her shoulder, and she didn't turn, still gazing out the window. "I can't believe he's awake, Ron. It just... seems like it's too good to be true, you know? Like I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop." He tightened his grip on her shoulder, and she found herself leaning back against him, remembering how they stood, just like this, a little longer then 4 years ago.

Ron sighed and stroked her hair as he gently pulled the teacup out of her hand and set it on a nearby table. He pulled her close to him, her forehead resting on his chest. "Hermione... maybe it's over. Maybe there is no other shoe." He treasured this stolen moment; somehow knowing it would be coldness and glares in the morning. "I wish all of this had never happened."

Hermione pulled away, her eyes shimmering with tears. "We can't change what happened, Ron. We can't change what we said then, either." Her voice dropped, bitterness seeping through her soft tones. "As long as you still mean it, nothing's going to change." She leaned up and quickly kissed him on the lips, a tear slipping down her cheek. "I should go to bed." She walked past him, picking up her teacup to set it in the sink.

Ron's head snapped up as her soft gasp echoed through the room. "Hermione? Hermione, what is it?" He took two steps towards her until he realized there was a vase of blue roses sitting innocently in the center of the table where there had been nothing but a blank tablecloth minutes earlier. "Hermione, where did those-" He spun to look at her; her face was as white as a sheet, her eyes unfocused. He reached for her just as she crumpled, falling to the floor in a dead faint.

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