Saving Harry

Part 1 - Hermione's Greatest Fear

"Broken wrist," Madam Pomfrey told him. "I'm afraid you may miss supper, Mr. Potter."

Harry grimaced at her. After losing all the bones in his arm the previous year, and having to spend the night in the hospital wing so they could grow back, this was nothing.

Of course, it hadn't exactly been his own fault that he'd lost his bones, but he did not have a git of a professor to blame in this case.

"Oh, it's all my fault," Hermione wailed at the side of his bed.

"I'm the one who tripped," he told her through gritted teeth as Madam Pomfrey continued to administer to his wrist.

"If I hadn't left that pile of books where I did, none of this would have happened," she moaned.

"It's all right, Hermione," said Ron, patting her shoulder reassuringly. "Though I did tell you taking that many subjects would be dangerous."

Hermione shot him one of her "looks."

"Ron," Harry cut in. "It's not Hermione's fault. If I'd been watching where I was walking --"

"If I hadn't distracted you with that fake bludger of Fred's --" inserted Ron guiltily.

"Enough with the 'what ifs,'" came a voice in the doorway.

It was their new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Lupin.

"Now, if you're through blaming yourselves when it was clearly a simple accident, I'd like to talk to Madam Pomfrey for a moment or two."

She nodded, telling Harry, "You should be good as new in a couple hours, Mr. Potter."

Harry nodded and tried to smile at her. The pain had already lessened somewhat.

After Madam Pomfrey and Professor Lupin moved across the room to talk in whispers, Ron asked, "Wonder what he's doing here?"

"I don't know, but he could use something from Madam Pomfrey. He doesn't look any better now than he did on the train," Hermione commented.

It was true. Professor Lupin looked extremely tired and ill, not to mention he was still attired in tatty, worn-out looking old robes.

"If you ask me, he just needs a good meal or two," Ron said.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "All you ever think about is food."

"Speaking of which..." Harry said, cutting in before the teasing between them turned to arguing.

"Do you want us to bring you something from dinner?" asked Hermione.

"Yes, that would be great. Thanks," said Harry, gratefully.

"If Miss-Don't-You-Dare-Disturb-My-Patients lets us back in," Ron jabbed his thumb over his shoulder to where the two adults were still chatting quietly.

"There's always the invisibility cloak," Hermione suggested.

Ron stared at her in mock surprise.

"As long as Harry doesn't mind if we borrow it, that is?"

"If it saves me from starvation, you're welcome to it," he told them both.

Hermione turned concerned eyes back to Harry, her face all seriousness now.

"I still feel like this is all my fault, Harry," she said quietly. "You know my worst fear is something terrible happening to you - and what do I do, but put you in the hospital wing myself! As if you haven't spent enough time here as it is."

Don't I know it? thought Harry, but he didn't say this aloud. He knew Hermione felt bad enough already.

"He forgives you, all right?" Ron said, exasperated. "Now, Harry, what do you want us to bring you? I think I still have a stash of Chocolate Frogs under my bed."

***

Two days later, Hermione stood before Professor Lupin as he was sitting at his desk.

"What can I help you with, Miss Granger?" he asked her kindly.

"Professor," she started slowly. "I was wondering why you didn't allow me to fight the boggart in class yesterday."

Lupin looked at her in surprise, clasping his hands in front of him and resting his chin on them.

"You had already participated earlier in class when you answered one of my questions," he said, but could see she was not satisfied with this response.

"You allowed everyone else to tackle the boggart. Everyone but Harry and me. And I think it's quite obvious why you didn't want Harry to do it. But why not me? My boggart wouldn't have been more frightening than anybody else's," she said.

Lupin eyed her curiously. "You're a shrewd young lady, Miss Granger. However, do you know what form your boggart would have taken on?"

Hermione thought about this for a moment.

"No, not really," she said honestly. "Ron joked that it would be an imperfect piece of homework."

Lupin laughed.

"From what I've heard, Miss Granger, that would be quite impossible."

She reddened at this.

"I did not mean to exclude you," he continued assuringly.

She started to smile, but he held up his hand.

"I did, however, feel that you would not be prepared to face the form your boggart might have taken."

Hermione was astonished, not to mention outraged, but she was not about to lose her calm with a teacher.

"You didn't think I could do it?" she asked, fighting to control her voice.

Since when had a teacher second-guessed her at anything? Not even Snape had ever questioned whether she could perform a task properly or not.

Lupin raised both of his palms now in a deprecating gesture.

"I did not say that. I merely felt you were not ready to face your fear," he explained.

Hermione shook her head at him, her bushy hair swishing over her shoulders rapidly.

"I don't understand, Professor," she said. "And I beg your pardon, but isn't it your job to prepare the students for defending ourselves against such things? How can you know if I'm ready if you won't even let me try?"

"You're right, of course," said Lupin. "I can't know for sure. And it is my job to prepare you for such things. I'm sorry if you disagreed with my decision. I made a judgment call. I had no idea you would be so offended by it. Next time, I will be more sensitive, Miss Granger."

She seemed satisfied with this and turned to go, but stopped in the doorway.

"Professor?"

Lupin looked up from his pile of papers at her.

"Do you know what my boggart might have been?"

He sighed and didn't answer for a long time.

"I want you to think hard on that question," he said finally, "and ask me again later."

Puzzled, Hermione simply nodded and left the classroom.

***

It was several weeks later when Professor Lupin asked to speak to Hermione after class one afternoon.

"What is it, Professor?" she asked anxiously. "If it's about that last essay, I swear next time it will be at least two scrolls longer. I just didn't have time to perfect it the way I normally..."

Lupin held up his hand to stop her rambling.

"Your essay was fine, Miss Granger. Terrific work, as usual."

She beamed at him.

"That's not what I wanted to talk to you about," he said. "You know I've been helping Harry with anti-dementor lessons? Of course, we don't have a real dementor to practice on. We have been using a boggart I captured in a suitcase. Did Harry tell you?"

She nodded, wondering what any of this had to do with her.

"Well, I thought, Miss Granger," Lupin continued, "if you wanted extra help with your boggart, now would be the perfect opportunity. I know you weren't particularly pleased with me last term about the whole thing. And now that I'm feeling better..."

She shot him a strange look, eyebrows raised.

"I have more time on my hands to devote to my students," he finished. "That is, if you're up to it?"

Hermione was never one to shirk a challenge.

"When do we start, Professor?"