The Coin

The night was cold and dark; only a few stars glittered dimly in the inky black sky. It was the perfect cover for the two cloaked figures who crept stealthily towards the rear of the old, decrepit building with wands drawn. It had been easy to breach the perimeter--too easy, in fact. They hadn't seen a single guard since they had Apparated to the edge of the forest that bordered the property. It left Draco with a decidedly unsettled feeling.

He could feel Hermione close behind him as they reached the door that led down to the dungeons. He had told her before they had started across the open expanse to stay close. Unable to see each other in the complete darkness, they couldn't risk speaking at all for fear of discovery. For once, Hermione had listened and done exactly as he'd asked. Draco made a mental note to tell Potter. He'd wager that Hermione didn't often obey Harry to the letter. If she did, she wouldn't be here with him now.

Still, the ease with which they'd reached the door gave Draco pause. Had Nappa allowed them to get this far without encountering resistance to lull them into a false sense of security? Would they open the door only to find an army of Nappa's minions waiting to throw them in the dungeon or worse?

Hermione stepped up beside him and raised Eric's wand, "Aloh..."

Draco stopped her with a hand on her arm and a quietly whispered, "Wait." He reached for the door handle; it opened easily. "I've got a bad feeling about this." He could see Hermione's worried face illuminated in the sliver of light from the slightly opened door. "Stay behind me." That she agreed to this command with nary more than a nod of her head, assured Draco that Hermione was as incredibly uneasy with the situation as he was.

For the first time, Draco questioned the wisdom of coming alone. Of not waiting on Potter and his Aurors to back them up. He wasn't a Gryffindor, always ready to charge foolishly into battle, but he wasn't a coward, either. The opportunity to get one up on Potter and make Weasley indebted to him had been just too good to resist. Not to mention the fact that he relished the chance to play the hero in Ginny's eyes. Besides, truth be told, he had grown rather fond of Lissa over the past few months, even though she had the unforgivably bad taste to want to marry Ron.

However, what made Draco reconsider his rash rescue mission was the possibility of getting Hermione killed. If that happened, he might as well off himself, as his life wouldn't be worth a plugged sickle once Potter was done with him. Oh well, Draco thought, in for a Knut in for a Galleon.

Draco cautiously opened the door and scanned the area beyond. No one was in sight. The knot in the pit of his stomach tightened. He eased in, Hermione right behind him and quietly closed the door. He pulled Hermione into a dark alcove and motioned to the left. "The dungeons are down that flight of stairs at the end of the hall. Stay behind me and keep your wand drawn at all times. If we are confronted, run for it. Do not stay and try to help me fight them off." Like she was going to listen, Draco thought, but maybe if Hermione ended up dead, he'd be able to tell Potter that he'd instructed Hermione to run and she hadn't obeyed. Harry would believe that. Maybe in that case Harry would kill him quickly instead of slowly and painfully. Draco shook himself from his dire musings and finished his instructions. "Back when I visited with my father, Collins had put a Non-Apparating spell on the building like the one at Hogwarts. We have to assume that it's still in place."

"I understand," Hermione said simply, but the determined, mutinous gleam in her brown eyes told Draco she wouldn't be running if confronted with danger.

Steeling himself with grim determination, Draco checked the passageway, noting that it was still clear. Not a good sign in Draco's mind. He eased out of the alcove and headed for the stairs; Hermione close on his heels.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

The hooded wizard stared blankly into the merrily crackling flames. They were here; he could sense it. He didn't need to employ the charm that would draw the grid in the air and show him the labeled figures as they moved throughout the building and grounds. He'd been waiting for this moment for too long not to just know. Potter and his Aurors were here. It hadn't taken them as long to find him as he had thought. So he'd been unable to put the next phase of his plan involving Weasley into motion. That was a bit disappointing. It would have been the coup de grace to kill Potter's best friend before killing Potter himself. Plans change sometimes--one had to make the best of the situation one was given, Nappa thought. And having Harry Potter in his clutches was the best of situations as far as he was concerned.

Impatience seethed inside him while he awaited word from his wizards that all was ready. Outwardly, however, his expression showed nothing but calm serenity. He did allow himself a small smile when he heard the knock on the door, but he carefully schooled his expression and drew his hood over his silvery hair as he commanded, "Enter."

A decidedly nervous-looking young wizard entered the room. "M'lord, I have news."

"Yes?"

"A witch and a wi...wizard have entered the building," his minion stuttered.

"Potter and his partner." This fact didn't surprise him at all; he'd been expecting this and had even allowed it.

"N...n...no, M'lord."

"No? Who then?"

The young wizard took a deep breath. "Draco Malfoy and...and..."

Nappa's raised eyebrow was lost in the shadows of hood of his cloak, but his icy silence spoke volumes.

"Hermione Granger," the young wizard gulped and took a step back.

If Draco Malfoy's name had shocked him, Hermione Granger's had stunned him beyond comprehension. Even if the young wizard could have seen his face, Nappa's stony expression betrayed none of his inner turmoil. "Are you certain?"

"Positive, M'lord. We did the identity spell on their auras. It was 100% positive, but I made them do it twice on the witch anyway. It is definitely Hermione Granger." The nervous wizard took another step back towards the door. "Should we intercept them?"

"No," Nappa said in a cold voice. "Let them proceed to the dungeons. They came to rescue Weasley's fiancée. Allow them to think that they have succeeded. Potter must surely be close behind. But monitor the situation closely and inform me of all developments."

"Yes, M'lord," the minion said as he hurriedly left the room.

Rage raced through Nappa's veins while at the same time a thrill of joy unfurled in the pit of his stomach, both emotions battling for dominance. Hermione Granger was alive. That meant Potter and his friends had gone to elaborate lengths to make him think otherwise. Nappa didn't like to be made to look a fool and that made him furious. On the other hand, his biggest regret had been killing Hermione. He'd realized too late that she should have been the coup de grace in his battle against Potter. Her death should have been the last thing in a long line of things to make Potter suffer. And if the elaborate measures Potter had taken to make him think she was dead was any indication of her importance to him, her death would have been.

But he had just been given a "do-over" as those stupid Muggles so quaintly put it. Christmas had indeed come early.

All that Harry Potter held dear would be destroyed right before his eyes. He didn't doubt that Weasley would be with Potter when he came to rescue his Muggle fiancée. Too bad that they would be too late. But he'd get the pleasure of killing Weasley, as he would Harry's partner, Elizabeth.

Then it would be Granger's turn to die. This time there would be no mistake; he would see to that himself. And Potter would be forced to watch. Watch while the witch he loved was slowly tortured to death. Nappa hoped she would cry and beg for mercy. That would be all the better if Potter had to endure that. But there would be no mercy. Nappa knew he would enjoy the unspeakable things he would do to Hermione Granger, but what he would enjoy more was the pain and anguish that Potter would feel knowing that she was suffering because of him and that there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Nappa allowed a full, evil smile to mar his face. Sometimes plans changed, he thought. One had to make the best of them. He was going to enjoy making the best of these.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Harry quietly issued the order for the Aurors to fan out and surround the perimeter. Harry was in charge of the first group. Gil Romulus headed up the second. Next to Elizabeth, who he'd wanted with him, Gil was the Auror that Harry trusted the most to lead the all important second flank. Harry wished he'd had the foresight to call Gil back from Manila to guard Hermione. Harry glared at Eric as he wordlessly followed Gil's group several meters to the east. Harry hadn't spoken to Eric since he had owled the office after awakening to find Hermione gone. As she'd stolen his wand again, another Auror had to Apparate to Lissa's to bring Eric back to headquarters. That Harry had gotten an owl from Hermione saying where she had gone and with whom only moments later didn't ensure Eric would still have a job come the morning.

To say that Harry had been angry when he had read Hermione's note was an understatement; he had been livid. When Eric appeared moments later, it had only been because Elizabeth had bodily put herself between her partner and the other Auror that Harry had not throttled Eric or worse.

As Harry tersely issued commands that no one dared disobey, Elizabeth stayed close by her partner's side. She motioned for Ron to do the same. No amount of arguing had persuaded Ron to stay behind. And she had tried, as had Harry. But when Ron had arrived at the lab to find that they had finally traced the Apparition particles from Lissa's point of disappearance and moments later an owl had arrived from Hermione giving the same coordinates, Ron would not be deterred from going along.

There was a grimly determined set to Harry's jaw; his green eyes sparking fire. Now not only Lissa's life hung in the balance, but Hermione's as well. Harry had promised to bring Lissa home alive and well and that task was going to prove difficult enough, but now Hermione was also in harms way. When he got his hands on her, he was going to make her pay for scaring years off his life. He was going to make her pay, all right--by kissing every last bit of breath from her body.

"Is everyone in position?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Elizabeth affirmed.

Harry looked over at his best friend. Ron's eyes were shadowed with worry, but there was also a hope there that had been absent over the last couple of days. Ron's hope had wavered during the ordeal, but the belief that he would have Lissa safely back in his arms had never completely faded. Harry didn't know whether they would find Lissa or Hermione alive when they stormed the building. He prayed that they would both be unhurt. He didn't know how either Ron or he could bear it if they weren't. But now was not the time to allow his emotions to blind him; now was the time for action. There would be time for either great joy or unspeakable sadness later.

"We move out on my signal," Harry commanded.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

This is too easy kept running though Draco's mind as he and Hermione made their way to the dungeon without encountering any resistance. When they got to a long narrow hallway leading into the main wing, he stopped to get his bearings.

Torchlight cast an eerie glow down a corridor lined with cells on either side; shadows of emaciated arms and hands reached out between the bars to perform a macabre dance along the floor leading to the door at the end of the hallway. If Lissa occupied the same cell as Hermione--and because of her dreams, she was sure she did--then she would be behind that door. It was the only solid door in the dungeon; all the rest had cells with iron bars, so the prisoners could see their way to freedom but could not obtain it.

"Stay close, Hermione." Draco reached back and gave Hermione's hand a reassuring squeeze.

Hermione could only nod; she was transported in her mind back to her own imprisonment. The smells. The sounds. The feelings. She had only been here for a short time. Lissa had been here much longer. How had she stood it?

Draco proceeded cautiously down the hall. Men and women reached bony hands through the bars trying to touch their cloaks; their feeble voices pleading for help and mercy. Draco pulled Hermione close to him, looking neither right nor left but straight at the door that he reached all too soon.

It opened without protest. His heart sank as he stared at the dirty cot. He tried to block Hermione's path, but she pushed past him.

"No!" she cried, covering the distance in a few, short steps. She flung herself onto her knees by the bed. Lissa lay there as if lost in a peaceful dream, her honey blonde hair gently fanning out around her face. Hermione gently took Lissa's cold, lifeless hand in her own.

"Nooooo," she sobbed, shaking her head. She looked wildly up at Draco, defying him to confirm the worst.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. So bloody sorry." Draco laid a gentle hand on Hermione's shoulder, rubbing gently.

Hermione looked back at the woman who had found her way into her heart in very short order and had become a treasured friend. Laying her head down on the dirty cot, she sobbed out all the grief in her heart.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Nappa's minions were ready for Harry Potter's Aurors, but they were no match for them. When the Aurors stormed the building, there was no stealth and cunning, only a full out assault. Curses flew and wands clashed, but in the end it was the Aurors who remained standing.

"Secure the building," Harry ordered Gil, who was rounding up the few stray wizards who hadn't fled when it became apparent that they were vastly outnumbered and outmatched.

"Right, Harry. Any sign of Nappa?"

"Not yet. Keep an eye out. We're headed for the dungeon." Harry cast his eyes around the room, looking for his partner. Elizabeth was securing two burly wizards with Eric's help. "Elizabeth, you come with me. You, too, Eric," Harry bit out tersely. He didn't need to tell Ron to follow him; he was already on his heels.

They quickly made their way to the dungeon; Ron breathing down his neck the whole way. Harry couldn't imagine that Ron was any more anxious to find Lissa than Harry, himself, was to see Hermione. Harry stopped abruptly when he saw the open doorway at the end of the hall. Wand drawn, he proceeded with a bit more caution; the others following behind him. He had to remember not to allow his desire to see if Hermione was safe to overrule his years of Auror training.

Stealthily, he approached the door. It was then that he heard the sobs. Hermione's sobs. He was sure of it. Throwing caution to the wind, he charged through the door, but stopped dead in his tracks. Ron bumped into him. He tried to shield him, but given that Ron was about a head taller than Harry, that was hard to do. He knew he hadn't succeeded when he heard Ron's groan of anguish. Ron pushed past him but stopped short of the cot.

Hermione stood and touched his arm gently, tears streaming down her face. "I'm so sorry, Ron."

Ron dropped to his knees beside the bed, a cry like a wounded animal torn from his throat. He carefully gathered Lissa in his arms. Her head flopped onto his shoulder like a rag doll's. He began to gently stroke her hair, murmuring soothing words of love and comfort.

"Lissa, it's me, love. It's Ron. Please wake up. I'm sorry it took so long for me to find you. I know you must have been so scared. But I'm here now, love. It's okay. You can wake up now." He continued to hold her close, rocking her gently, her limp arms resting by his sides. "Please, baby, wake up."

All the occupants of the small room watched the scene with heavy hearts. Finally, Hermione could watch her best friend hold the lifeless form of his fiancée no longer. She turned and fled into Harry's waiting arms, sobbing out her heartbreak. Harry gathered her close, his eyes sliding shut in relief and guilt.

Relief because he held the woman he loved more than life itself in his arms. She was alive and well and clinging to him as if she would never let him go. His predominant emotion, however, was guilt. His best friend was holding the woman he loved more than life in his arms, too. But Ron would never feel Lissa's arms embrace him back again.

It was more guilt than Harry could stand. The weight of it crushed his spirit. He had failed. He had told Ron he would bring Lissa back safely, but he hadn't. With each stroke of her hair, with each murmured endearment, with each heartbroken plea for Lissa to open her eyes, Harry felt like Ron was delivering a direct blow to his gut with a Bludger.

Elizabeth surveyed the room. Eric hovered in the doorway. Draco stood helplessly by the bedside, looking as if he wanted to reach out to Ron but not knowing how. Harry and Hermione stood close by the bedside; Hermione's head buried in his shoulder; Harry stroking her hair gently, whispering soothing words, all the while looking like a man who had been granted a pardon, but thought he should have been sentenced to death instead.

Elizabeth walked over to Ron and gently laid a hand on his shoulder. "Ron, we should probably get you two out of here. It's not completely safe yet. Do you want Draco to carry Lissa for you?"

"No!" Ron spat, clutching Lissa's lifeless body even closer.

"Okay," Elizabeth soothed, "but we need to leave soon." She reached over and brushed a honey colored lock of hair from Lissa's face, tucking it behind her ear, resting her hand alongside Lissa's neck. Elizabeth's eyes widened in surprise. She'd felt the merest tickle of a flutter. She pressed her hand more firmly to Lissa's neck, not saying anything lest she raise hopes unnecessarily. But then she felt it again--the faintest of pulses.

"Ron," she said quietly, "she's alive, but just. I think she must have been hit with the same curse as Hermione. We need to get her to hospital right away, though."

Ron's eyes shimmered with fresh tears, but these born of relief and hope. He stood, cradling Lissa ever so carefully against his tall frame.

"We have to get to the perimeter. We can't Apparate from in here," Draco informed them.

"Draco, take Hermione with you," Harry ordered, disentangling himself from Hermione's arms.

"No. I'm not going anywhere without you," Hermione told Harry obstinately.

"Hermione," Harry began warningly.

"Bickering lovers is all well and good," Draco drawled, "but Lissa doesn't have time for it. You two work it out and we'll see you at hospital." Draco picked up a blanket from the end of the cot and tucked it securely around Lissa. "Let's go," he motioned to Ron and Elizabeth.

"I think I'll go check on Gil's progress. See if he's located Nappa yet," Eric said from the doorway. Harry didn't spare him a glance so Eric quietly left.

Once Harry and Hermione were alone, a tense silence descended on the room.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

"Imbeciles! Incompetents! How could they fail?" Nappa shouted to the room at large, his usually passive face distorted even more so than usual by the fury he could no longer contain.

He had to calm down. He had to regain control. All his carefully laid plans could not be going up in a puff of smoke. He wouldn't allow them to. Drawing in a few steadying breaths, he looked at the grid he had magically conjured into the air

The grid glowed green, showing his men captured and held by Potter's Aurors. It looked like they were all being gathered into a central location. That would work to his advantage. There were few Aurors patrolling the path that led to the dungeons. If he made his way through the secret passageways, he could make it to the dungeons without being detected; he was sure of it.

And make it to the dungeon, he would. His gaze lingered on the grid. More specifically on the two small green figures that stood stationary in the confinement cell. One was labeled Harry Potter, the other Hermione Granger.

Nappa didn't know what fate had handed his enemy into his hands, but he'd been given a second chance to exact his revenge on the great Harry Potter. He would not fail this time. Revenge was going to be sweet.

He walked over to the wall by the fireplace, touched the portrait of a beautiful woman with flaming red hair with the tip of his wand and disappeared into the passageway.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

"How angry are you with me?" Hermione finally broke the silence.

"You don't want me to answer that question," Harry replied, trying to reign in said anger. The relief he'd felt moments before when he was holding Hermione in his arms was gone in a rush of emotion, hot and painful.

"I know I should have come to you first, not just sent an owl," Hermione said, trying to placate Harry.

"You think?" Harry said scathingly. "Of all the stupid things you could have done. That tops it all, Hermione. After all I've done to try to keep you safe. You run off without telling me...with Draco Malfoy, no less. Didn't you trust me to bring Lissa home safely? Or did you think since you are Hermione Granger, the smartest witch to ever grace Hogwarts, you could do it by yourself?" Harry stopped and then snapped his fingers. "Oh, that's right. You didn't do it by yourself, did you? Malfoy came along for the ride," Harry ended his tirade, his eyes snapping fury.

Hermione was momentarily floored by the venom and malice she heard in Harry's voice. That feeling was quickly replaced by hurt that Harry would speak to her in such a tone or question her faith in him. Her hurt was swiftly chased away by a burning anger of her own.

"Granted, Harry, it wasn't the smartest thing I've ever done. But I wanted to help. I love Lissa, too. I never doubted you could find her and I knew we needed your help, that's why I sent that owl. But I knew there wasn't any time to waste. I've been channeling what's been happening to Lissa in my dreams. That's what I realized when Draco came to tell you about the dream curse. I knew she was in trouble and I knew I was partly responsible. I wanted to help bring her home. Don't you understand that?" Hermione asked, some of the heat gone from her tone.

Harry ran a weary hand through his messy, black mane. "I suppose," he granted grudgingly. "But it was still a stupid thing to do, Hermione."

"I concur," said a hooded figure silkily as he stepped into the small cell, his wand drawn. "Miss Granger made a fatal error in judgment. Fatal for both of you."

Harry wasn't able to reach his wand before the bolt of light hit him square in the chest. The scream had barely left Hermione's throat when she, too, was felled by a flash of light from Nappa's wand. She crumpled slowly onto the cold, dank floor beside Harry's motionless body. Nappa smiled in delight.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Ron paced back and forth in front of the glass window to Lissa's hospital room, stopping with each pass to check on the doctor's progress. Elizabeth checked the clock on the wall, marking not only the time the doctor had been in with Lissa, but the minutes that ticked by as Harry and Hermione failed to appear at the hospital as well. Draco leaned negligently against the wall, taking in the whole scene.

Finally, Dr. Hastings emerged from the room, a small smile on his face. "You were right," he directed this to Elizabeth. "It was the same spell that was used on Ms. Granger, but it was almost too late for Ms. Sullivan."

"Almost?" Ron asked hopefully. "You mean Lissa is all right?"

"Yes, Mr. Weasley," the doctor told Ron with a smile. "She is going to be just fine. She'll need to take it easy for a while. But like Ms. Granger, she shouldn't suffer any lasting side effects."

Ron let out a long breath, relief almost buckling his knees. "I want to see her, please." Before the doctor could respond, Ron heard raised voices coming from down the hallway.

"Get out of my way! I'll find my son myself!"

The shrill voice he heard ringing throughout the hallway could be none other than...

"Ron!" Molly Weasley cried out in relief as she spied her son and hurtled down the hallway, enveloping him in a warm embrace.

"Lissa's going to be okay, Mum," he cried, hugging his mother back, tears washing unashamedly down his cheeks.

Molly clutched her youngest son to her tightly and only let him go when the rest of the Weasley clan gathered around to take their own turns hugging Ron or patting him on the back to offer their good wishes at his news. After Ginny had hugged her brother, she went straight into Draco's arms.

"I was so worried about you after Dad got that owl from a friend of his at the Ministry. The details were sketchy. He said he didn't know much except that you, Ron and Harry had gone off to find Lissa. I was afraid you would be hurt or worse," Ginny choked back a sob, her head buried against Draco's chest.

"I'm fine as you can see, beautiful. It would take more than a mean, old wizard to best a Malfoy," Draco teased with a drawl.

"Don't joke about that, Draco. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you. Please never do anything like that again," Ginny begged.

"I'm not sure I can promise that, babe. Looks like Elizabeth and I are going back to look for Harry." He cast a quick glance at Elizabeth as she tried to unobtrusively make her exit.

"It isn't necessary for you to come along, Draco," Elizabeth told him. "Stay here with Ginny."

"I'd rather tag along if it's all the same to you. I started this little adventure; I'd like to see it through to completion."

Draco gently held Ginny away from him and softly kissed her forehead. "Don't worry about me, babe. I'll come back to you. You think I'm going to die and miss the opportunity to keep sticking it to your brothers that a Malfoy's shagging their baby sister?"

Ginny gave him a watery smile. "You better come back to me, Draco Malfoy." She reached up and pulled his head down for a desperate kiss. "I love you so much, Draco," she whispered.

"Love you, too, beautiful," Draco declared back as he claimed her lips once more.

After Draco had left with Elizabeth, Ginny turned to her mother to inquire, "Where's Ron?"

"In with Lissa," Molly replied. "Let's all go to the waiting room and give them a bit of privacy." She put her arm around her daughter's waist and led her to chairs, all the Weasley men following along behind.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Ron sat beside Lissa's bed, holding her hand. She was alive. It had been a close thing. He couldn't believe how close he'd come to losing her. He knew that and the very thought chilled his insides more effectively than any Dementor ever could.

The last week had been hell for him. The missing her. The emptiness of his bed and his arms. The not knowing if he'd ever see her alive again. The uncertainty of what was happening to her if she was still alive. The grief and despair. The anger and rage. The all encompassing love he felt for a woman that had changed his life forever with one teary smile. The thread of hope he had clung to like a drowning man to a life preserver.

It had all been too much. Too much emotion. Too much everything. Now he sat beside her, knowing he should feel relief that she was going to be okay. But all he could feel was numb. Numbness and cold.

Then Lissa opened her eyes, looked at him and smiled. And it all came flooding back. The anger, the despair, the hope, the love. It was all contained in her smile. His whole world began and ended with her smile and the love he saw shining back at him from her eyes.

"Hey, love," Ron managed to choke out around the lump in his throat.

"Hey, yourself," Lissa said weakly.

Ron brought their joined hands up to softly kiss her fingers, his eyes closing as emotion swamped him. His eyes sprang back open when he felt Lissa's other hand gently caress his cheek.

"I prayed for you to find me. I knew you would."

"We almost didn't," Ron's voice broke on a sob.

"Shhh." Lissa placed a finger against Ron's lips. "You did and that's all that matters. You are what kept me alive, Ron. Thinking of you and knowing I'd soon be back in your arms. That's what I clung to through those long, dark days."

"I've never been so frightened in all my life, Lissa."

"Neither have I. But it's over now." Lissa closed her eyes, trying to chase away the images that were never far from her mind. "Hold me, Ron, please."

Ron gently pulled back the blanket covering Lissa and carefully climbed into the bed, laying down beside her. He pulled her into his arms; her head pillowing on his chest and his arms going securely around her.

"I love you, Lissa," Ron said, knowing those words would never be enough to adequately express how he truly felt.

"And I love you," Lissa replied, already succumbing to the fatigue that reached up to claim her.

Ron held her cuddled close to his heart, knowing it would be a long time before he'd ever let go again.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Harry woke slowly. The first thing he noticed was that he sat in a chair placed in the center of the room, his hands were secured behind his back, his legs bound to the legs of the straight backed chair, evidently by a binding spell because he saw no ropes holding him. He looked around for Hermione; his field of vision limited by his restraints, but he couldn't see her.

Panic filled him. He opened his mouth to call her name, but no sound came out. Evidently the Silencio charm had been employed as well.

Trying to calm his jangled nerves, Harry looked around at his surroundings, attempting to assess the situation. He was in a large room. Richly decorated in gold, scarlet and purple fabrics. Ornate pictures adorned the walls. A fire crackled in a huge marble fireplace. A large, overstuffed couch sat along one wall. A hooded wizard sat sedately in the matching chair.

Harry heard a noise behind him, like someone shifting in a chair.

Hermione? he wondered. Please be all right. Harry silently cursed not being able to see for himself that she was okay.

"I wondered when the two of you would come round," said a silky voice from across the room.

Nappa rose and slowly walked toward them, stopping a few feet in front of Harry's chair. He glanced briefly behind Harry, who could only assume Nappa was looking at Hermione, and then he turned his hooded face to linger on Harry. "Perhaps, I should officially introduce myself." He made a mock bow. "I am Nappa Collins. It's my pleasure to finally come face to face with you again, Potter, at last."

Harry's head whipped up and he searched the hooded face, trying to catch a glimpse of the features of the man he never remembered meeting before.

As if reading Harry's mind, Nappa offered, "You don't remember me? I'm a trifle disappointed maybe, but not surprised. Let me refresh your memory. We met on that final day, Potter. The day of the Final Battle. Most of the Dark Lord's followers were dead or dying by the time I came upon you administering to one of your own. I was thrilled beyond measure. I, Nappa Collins, was going to ensure that The Boy Who Lived would be nothing more than a sad footnote to that day. But, somehow, I must not have been as stealthy as I thought because as I cast my spell, your wand came up at the last second and deflected it back at me. And it was such a lovely spell, Harry, such a destructive spell, such a permanent one. And it hit me directly in the face."

Nappa paused in his narrative. Slowly, he reached his long-fingered hands up to grasp the edges of his hood. He drew it back, revealing silvery blonde hair and a grotesquely disfigured face.

The entire left side of his face was scarred as if burned by an intensely hot fire. His left eye was narrowed to a small slit from the scarring. The left side of his mouth twisted up, giving the impression of a permanently sadistic smile. Harry schooled his face into an impassive mask when Nappa's good ice blue eye looked back at him.

"This," Nappa hissed, "is what you did to me. It took me months to heal. Long, painful months. Morgan," he indicated a life-sized portrait of a red haired woman hanging on the wall, "left me because she couldn't bear to look at me. You killed my Master and my father. You took away my looks and the woman I loved more than life itself. It took months before the pain became bearable. Months in which I planned. Planned the revenge I would take on you. It took me years to build up my army. To put my plan for vengeance into motion."

He stopped his story and looked intently over Harry's shoulder.

"I thought I had the perfect plan. I'd had you under surveillance for years, Potter," his one-eyed gaze swung back to Harry, "but when my man reported back that you'd spent the day at the zoo with a woman he said you seemed very smitten with, I knew the pieces had fallen into place. The perfect way to exact my revenge. You cost me the woman I loved. I'd cost you yours.

"Then those bloody, incompetent cretins I hired botched the job. It appeared they had killed Ms. Granger, but they had failed to kill you. In hindsight, I realized I'd been a bit hasty anyway. It would have been a much better plan to have killed off all the Weasleys, your partner, and then the woman you loved. After all those years of careful planning, I can't believe I got so overanxious at the end that I almost ruined it all. I should have focused on making you suffer as much as possible like you'd made me suffer all these years. Would have been a bit of poetic justice, don't you agree?"

Even if Harry could have replied, he wouldn't have given Nappa the satisfaction. By this time however, Nappa was so lost in his insane ravings that he hardly spared Harry a glance, instead pacing back and forth in front of Harry's chair like a caged tiger. Nappa didn't notice Harry's lack of response, he simply plunged on with his twisted tale.

"Imagine my surprise and delight when I found out that Ms. Granger was alive and well and in my compound. Then you joined her and I knew I'd been given a second chance. Imagine my disappointment when I paused outside the door to the cell to find that you were raking the witch I thought you loved over the coals for her disobedience. Perhaps your feelings for her weren't as deep as I'd hoped."

Harry's eyes shot daggers of fury at Nappa, but he wasn't going to betray his true feelings for Hermione to the demented wizard. No need to give him anything else to use against them. Not for the first time, Harry wondered what Hermione was thinking and feeling. If her chair was turned facing the opposite wall from Harry's, the most logical way for Nappa to have positioned them, he knew it had to be driving her mad to be able to hear what was going on, but unable to see what was happening. On second thought, maybe that was better. Nappa hadn't walked into Hermione's field of vision yet; that she couldn't see that twisted face had to be better. He could only imagine how frightened she was without seeing it, if she saw his face....

"I suppose it shouldn't surprise me that she doesn't inspire a great devotion in you," Nappa continued, stopping directly in front of Harry. "She isn't exactly the kind of witch who would. To say she's plain would be kind. That bushy, brown hair and dull mud colored eyes are hardly enough to incite a man to passion. From what I've been told, she's a book-smart know-it-all. Not a very attractive quality. Her body is passable enough, I suppose. If you've shagged her, I guess that would be the reason. She was convenient, after all. A wizard needs to scratch that itch once in a while. Not that I've been able to in quite a while, because of this," he hissed, motioning to his mangled face. "Maybe I should remedy that with Ms. Granger."

If looks could kill, Harry's problem would have been solved. So much for not giving away his feelings for Hermione.

An evil smile stole across Nappa's face. He walked around Harry's chair, out of his line of vision. Harry felt Nappa's robes brush against his numb arms, which were still secured behind his back. Was he standing between the chairs? Behind Hermione?

"Maybe the great Harry Potter doesn't know how to love." Nappa's voice sounded closer. Was he bending down close to Hermione? Harry wondered. Harry fought against the invisible bonds holding him tight.

"He's had his share of beautiful witches over the years. True. But he's never had any relationships that lasted for very long. Did you think you'd be the first to steal his heart?"

Harry could hear the evil smile in Nappa's voice. "I suppose Potter has whispered pretty words of love to you and you believed him, didn't you? Because you wanted them to be true. You wanted to think someone could love you. Foolish girl. No one could love you," he sneered. "Least of all the great Harry Potter. He could have any beautiful witch in his bed that he wanted. Why would he want you?"

Harry's mind screamed out for Hermione to ignore Nappa, to not believe him. But his voice was uselessly silent and all he could do was listen as Nappa pushed relentlessly on. "I suppose you believe since he protected you, went as far as to fake your death, that proves his undying devotion to you. But it doesn't. That's just Harry Potter doing what he does best. Saving the world. Has he ever even told you he loved you? Maybe when he was thrusting himself home in your passable little body? Or in the afterglow of what you thought was making love, but to Potter was just sex?"

Rage flooded Harry's veins. When he got free from his bonds, he was going to kill Nappa with his bare hands, no wand needed. He begged and pleaded with Hermione in his mind to not believe a word that Nappa said, but when he heard Nappa's cruel laughter he could only imagine that Nappa had read the doubt on Hermione's face. Nappa's robes brushed Harry's arms again as he stepped from between the chairs to stand in front of Harry's again.

"This is too priceless. The great Harry Potter incapable of love. Was it because you lost your mummy as a baby and was denied love growing up? Too bad," Nappa sneered. "You cost me the one woman I've ever loved, then scarred me so badly that no other woman would ever look on me with anything but fright and horror. I suppose I should think that's a bit of justice knowing that you've spent your life as alone as me. Even though you've been able to have any beautiful woman you want, or even the ugly ones for a quick shag," his good eye glanced back at Hermione, "you've still been alone, empty. Without love. How does it feel, Potter, to be just like me?"

Harry's eyes spoke his every thought, even though he was magically hindered from speaking them aloud.

"Enough of this history lesson," Nappa snapped, slightly unsettled by what he saw in Harry's eyes. "It's beginning to bore me. Let's move on to something a bit more fun, shall we? Perhaps Ms. Granger isn't the love of your life, Potter. Not like my Morgan. But the two of you have been friends for quite a while now. I'm sure watching her die a slow, painful death with a few horrors thrown in for good measure," Nappa's one eye did a sick imitation of a wink, "will bring you some small amount of grief. If for no other reason than you were unable to save her."

Nappa walked behind Harry again; he heard a scuffling sound, and then Nappa dragged Hermione into his line of vision. Nappa's knuckles were white where he clutched Hermione's upper arms cruelly, holding her upright. It looked like she would have had difficulty standing anyway. If she had been bound like Harry himself, he could only imagine the pin pricks of pain that must be shooting through her limbs at suddenly being released from her bonds and that being forced to stand must have caused her. Her whimper of pain all but confirmed it for Harry. Nappa pushed Hermione roughly away, causing her to hit the ground with an unceremonious thud.

Hermione's terrified eyes found Harry's. Harry held her gaze steadily, trying to instill a calm he couldn't quite make himself feel into his eyes. He needed to let Hermione know that he loved her, that he would somehow get them out of this and that all would be okay. Nappa's next words broke their gaze, causing them both to turn their attention warily back to him.

"Let's see, where shall we begin?" Nappa pondered. "Crucio is simple but effective. I wonder how much of that you could take before you beg for mercy? Or I could try one of the other curses I've perfected over the years. Have you been having any bad dreams lately?" he asked nonchalantly.

Hermione's eyes widened in fright. Nappa laughed cruelly.

"You've already experienced the pleasure of that curse. I'm rather proud of that one. Took me years to develop. Channeling into people's worst nightmares. I suppose that's what led you here, isn't it? Seems to be a side effect that you share a connection if two people who are close have both been exposed to the curse. Let me assure you, Ms. Granger, that what I have planned for you will be worse than any nightmare you could have ever imagined," Nappa said evilly. He extended his wand and pointed it directly at Hermione's chest and yelled maliciously, "Crucio!"

Hermione screamed in pain, her body writhing in agony on the floor. When Harry thought she would pass out from the pain, Nappa released the curse. She lay there panting for breath, tears streaming down her face.

Nappa looked back in Harry's direction. Harry's chair lay on its side on the floor; he was struggling futility to break free from the magical bonds. As Harry pulled against the bonds that held him, his eyes never left Hermione's twitching body. Nappa smiled sadistically. He looked back at Hermione and raised his wand once more, but before he could utter the curse again, he was tackled by Harry, knocking them both to the floor. Nappa's wand lay just out of reach on the floor where it had fallen.

Only Nappa's surprise and pure adrenaline gave Harry the advantage. He had been bound too long for his limbs to be useful under normal circumstances, but these were far from normal circumstances. Harry knew he was locked in a life and death struggle, not only for his own life, but Hermione's as well. That extra incentive gave Harry the burst of energy he needed to get the upper hand.

Harry's hands were around Nappa's throat; Nappa trying desperately to break the hold Harry had on him. Nappa glanced sideways and caught sight of his wand, then threw his arm out to the side, reaching for his wand, his fingertips brushing the smooth mahogany but not quite able to wrap his hand around it.

So intent on strangling the life out of the man who had tried to kill Hermione, Harry didn't notice Nappa reaching for the wand until he heard Hermione's scream of warning. The slight break in pressure was all Nappa needed to grasp his wand firmly in his hand.

The next few seconds happened in the mere blink of an eye, but Harry would relive them for the rest of his life. Nappa whipped his wand between their bodies, Harry's hand grabbed his enemy's wrist just as Nappa shouted, "Avada Kedavra!"

Harry's body went perfectly still. Hermione's scream echoed throughout the room. Then slowly, Harry levered himself away from Nappa's lifeless form and stood shakily. Hermione was at his side in a heartbeat, in his arms in less time than that. They clung to each other desperately. Harry murmured soothing words as he stroked Hermione's hair. Hermione sobbed brokenly into the front of Harry's robe.

"I...I thought he'd killed you," she choked out.

"No, love, I'm fine. Are you all right?" Harry held Hermione far enough away from him so he could look into her face, needing to see for himself that she was okay.

Hermione nodded weakly and then buried her face back into Harry's chest. He willingly gathered her close into his arms once more. The horror of the last few minutes washed over him in cold waves. He held her for long moments, rocking her gently, savoring the feel of holding her close once again.

I almost lost her, Harry thought. Nappa had almost succeeded in his evil plan. Hermione had almost died and so had he. And he'd never spoken the words. Never told her how he really felt about her. How he'd now come to realize he'd felt about her for a very long time. He had to tell her.

"Hermione," he said, moving her out of the circle of his arms and cupping her face in his hands, "I need to tell you something. There is something you need to know."

"What, Harry?"

Harry's breath caught in his throat. No three words he'd ever said had meant more. He looked deeply into Hermione's eyes and told her simply and clearly, "I love you."

Instead of the smile and the answering declaration of love he expected to receive, Harry saw a flicker of doubt chase across Hermione's brown eyes. But before he could question her, he saw the portrait on the wall swing open.

"Well, it looks like we're not needed here," Draco drawled, striding into the room, Elizabeth right behind him. "Looks like you have everything under control." He looked down at Nappa's lifeless body sprawled on the floor with a sardonic smirk.

"It's about bloody time you showed up," Harry directed to Elizabeth, ignoring Draco. "Would you take care of him for me? I need to get Hermione to the hospital to be checked out."

Elizabeth nodded, already walking toward the fireplace to call headquarters for additional Auror support.

Harry looked at Hermione, who stood a foot away from him. She was pale and still trembling slightly. Harry could tell by the strained look on her face that she was trying very hard to hold it together, but the horror of what they had been through was starting to catch up with her. There was a lot they needed to talk about, but that could wait for later. Now all he wanted to do was get her checked out at the hospital, then safely home where he never intended to let her out of his sight again.

"Let me show you the way," Draco offered with a smirk at Harry, but a sympathetic look in Hermione's direction. "Don't want you wandering around lost in here forever."

"Thanks, Malfoy," Harry said with a smirk of his own. "I appreciate it."

"Happy to be of service," Draco responded.

Harry took Hermione's hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. She mutely twined her fingers through his, and they followed Draco back through the portrait hole.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Hermione expelled a long suffering sigh. "I told you I was fine, Harry."

Harry was unapologetic. "I wanted the doctor to say that for certain."

"Well, he did. Are you happy now?" she asked a bit snappishly.

"Yes, and he told us that Lissa's fine, too, so that should make you happy. Want to go see her now?"

"I wanted to half an hour ago," Hermione muttered under her breath.

Harry simply grinned at her, offered his arm, which Hermione reluctantly took, and led the way to the Intensive Care Unit.

Walking through those doors brought bad memories rushing back to Harry. He told himself that Hermione was fine. He could feel her warm hand in the crook of his elbow, but it couldn't quite chase away the thoughts of how close he'd come to losing her in recent days.

As he looked down at her walking along beside him, he couldn't help but realize what a prat he'd been. All that wasted time. Pushing her away at first. Then withholding the three words she needed to hear the most. All because he'd been afraid. Afraid of rocking the boat. Afraid of losing their friendship. Afraid of ruining the one relationship that had always been steady and constant in his life. All that fear and he'd almost ended up losing her anyway. Permanently. Forever. The thought made his blood run cold.

If Harry only did one thing for the rest of his life, it would be to ensure that Hermione knew each and every day how much she meant to him. That she was his sunshine when the world was dark. That she was the air he breathed. The blood that pumped through his veins. His all and his everything. He couldn't wait to get her home to start showing her just how much he loved her.

But first they had to face the Weasleys, who he could see taking up a good portion of the waiting area lounge. He felt Hermione's steps falter when she saw them, too. He knew she was thinking about their reaction to her "death". But as the deception surrounding Hermione's death had been necessary, Harry knew all would be forgiven in their joy in finding out that she was alive. He placed his hand over hers on the crook of his arm, squeezed reassuringly and led her on to what he knew would be a happy reunion.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*

The Weasleys sat scattered around the waiting area. Molly and Arthur sat together on a small couch, his head resting on her shoulder. Bill and Charlie sat in chairs discussing Charlie's new dragon taming technique. Fred and George had their heads together plotting out their latest gag for the joke shop. Percy hadn't been able to get away from his job at the Ministry but had sent Ron an owl telling him how happy he was that Lissa was all right. Ginny sat in Draco's lap, talking to him quietly.

"You've been smiling like the Cheshire cat from that book Alice in Wonderland since you got back. Want to share why?" Ginny asked, not for the first time.

"Nope. You'll find out soon enough. In fact, it might be sooner than you think." Draco motioned towards the hallway.

Harry stood there, a nervous looking Hermione at his side.

"Hermione!" Ginny screamed, launching herself from Draco's lap, covering the distance between herself and her best friend in a couple of steps. Hermione barely had time to open her arms before Ginny had her wrapped in a tight hug, squealing and babbling incoherently.

All the Weasleys gathered around anxious for their own hugs and a few explanations, all talking over one another in an effort to be heard.

"How..."

"I don't believe this..."

"What's going on?"

"Are you a ghost?"

"You're supposed to be dead," Fred said over the tumult. "Why aren't you?"

Hermione extracted herself from Molly's death grip and patted the hysterically sobbing woman on the shoulder.

"It's all right, Molly," she said, accepting a kiss on the check and a hug from Arthur. "Maybe Harry and I should explain." Hermione sent a pleading look in Harry's direction.

Taking pity on her, Harry took control of the situation. He directed all the Weasleys to take a seat, which they did reluctantly. He then led Hermione over to a chair and perched himself on the edge. Clearing his throat, he looked around at all the expectant faces, most of which were staring at Hermione and not at him.

"As you can see," he began, " Hermione isn't dead."

"No!" exclaimed George.

"Really? Never would have guessed," added Fred.

Their mother gave the twins a quelling look and turned to Harry. "Go on with your story, Harry, dear."

"Thanks, Molly," Harry smiled at her. "After Nappa's goons tried to kill Hermione, we decided it would be best if he believed that she really was dead. That way she would be safe while we tried to track him down."

"That makes sense," interjected Arthur. "But who was the 'we'?"

This was the sticky part, Harry knew. Feelings were bound to be hurt; even if it had been done in Hermione's best interest, some of the Weasleys weren't going to be happy to have been kept out of the loop. One in particular. That pair of brown eyes stared at him most intently.

"Ron knew and so did Lissa, Elizabeth and Eric, too. We wanted to have as few people know as possible," Harry added, hoping that would help. Evidently that didn't appease Ginny. Her brown eyes filled with tears.

"You didn't trust me enough to know?" she questioned, the hurt evident in her voice.

"It isn't that, Gin," Hermione spoke for the first time since she was seated. "Like Harry said, the fewer people who knew the better. I couldn't even tell my parents."

"Those poor dears," Molly lamented. "Believing their baby was dead."

"It wasn't that we didn't trust any of you, honestly. It was my decision. The best way I knew to keep Hermione safe," Harry finished, placing his hand on Hermione's shoulder in support, surprised to feel it stiffen beneath his touch.

"Wait a minute." Ginny's eyes narrowed as she turned to her boyfriend. "You knew Hermione was alive. How long have you known and not told me?"

"Only since right before we went to find Lissa." Draco was quick to assure her. He'd been on the receiving end of Ginny's temper too many times to allow her to think he'd known all along and not shared the information.

"That's right, Gin. Draco came to Lissa's to find Harry to tell him what he remembered about the dream curse and found me instead," Hermione assured her best friend.

Bringing up the dream curse brought a fresh barrage of questions from the Weasleys. Harry held up his hand for silence.

"I know you all still have questions about Hermione and about Lissa. And we'll answer them all, I promise. But right now, I know Hermione would like to see Lissa and so would I." Harry stood and pulled Hermione up with him.

"Of course, dear," Molly said from her seat on the couch. "You two go ahead. We'll have plenty of time to catch up with Hermione later."

"You okay, Gin?" Hermione asked her friend.

"Yeah," Ginny replied sullenly. "I just wish you'd told me, too. But I am glad you are all right."

"I know you are, and I promise we'll catch up soon." Hermione took Harry's hand and let him lead her out of the waiting area to Lissa's room.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Ron lay there dozing, a sleeping Lissa held closely to his side.

"Maybe we should come back later, Harry."

Ron's eyes opened when he heard Hermione's voice. "It's okay. Come on in." He sat up carefully so as not to disturb Lissa, but her eyes fluttered open when she felt Ron move away from her. She smiled when she saw her visitors.

"Hey, you two. I'm so happy to see you." Lissa's southern drawl was softer than usual. Ron helped her prop herself up on her pillows, fluffing them behind her.

"I believe that should be our line, Lissa," Hermione stated, sitting down on the side of the bed Ron had just vacated, carefully embracing Lissa in a gentle hug.

Harry dropped a soft kiss to the top of Lissa's head before taking the chair closest to Hermione. Ron moved to sit on the other side of Lissa, not being able to bear to be so far away from her that he couldn't touch her. He held her left hand with his right, absently brushing her empty ring finger with the pad of his thumb. Her small diamond ring rested safely in his pocket. Ron couldn't wait until she was out of hospital so he could put the ring back where it belonged.

"Are you sure you're all right, Lissa?" Hermione questioned in concern. "I know some of what you went through."

"Yes, I know," she said weakly. "It was..." Tears welled up in Lissa's eyes and she was unable to continue. Ron closed his own eyes and held Lissa's hand tighter.

"You don't have to think about it right now," Harry told her. "I will need a statement about what happened, but all that can wait until you're stronger."

Lissa looked relieved. Ron smiled gratefully at his friend. "Thanks, mate. We appreciate that. Lissa's just not up to talking about it right now."

"Of course not," Harry agreed. "And Hermione and I should probably go and let her get some rest. We just wanted to see for ourselves that she was okay."

Harry stood and after giving Lissa another hug, Hermione stood, too. Harry dropped a kiss on Lissa's cheek. "I'm glad you're all right. This bloke was a pitiful mess without you. But he never gave up hope that we'd get you back. Glad he was right for a change." Harry winked at her.

"For a change?" Ron sputtered. "What do you mean 'for a change'."

Harry snorted. Lissa giggled.

Hermione looked at her two oldest friends, then at her newest, putting aside her doubts for the moment, she felt a warmth flow through her at being able to share the simple pleasures of friendship. "I'm glad some things never do."

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Elizabeth was waiting for them in the hallway when they left Lissa's room.

"Harry, I hate to do this to you," she said without preamble, "but there is a pile of paperwork waiting for you back at the office. Reports to be filled out. Nappa's followers to be processed. And since you were the leader of the team, we need you to help fill in all the details."

Harry sighed. "The part of my job I love the most."

"Is that sarcasm I hear in your voice, Potter?" Elizabeth laughed.

"No, not at all." Harry pulled a face at his partner and then turned to Hermione. "Sweetheart, I'm sorry to have to do this to you."

"It's okay, Harry. I understand. Besides I want to go home to see my parents. I have to tell them that I'm alive and I need to do that in person."

Harry nodded. "Let me get someone to escort you there."

"Harry," Hermione admonished, "you don't have to protect me anymore. Nappa is dead. I'm safe, remember?"

"I'm always going to protect you, Hermione. And about what I said to you before Draco so rudely interrupted us..."

"That's okay, Harry. We'll talk about it later," Hermione cut him off quickly. "That stack of paperwork isn't getting done with you standing here chatting. And I'm really anxious to see my parents." Hermione reached up and brushed his cheek with a quick kiss, and then hurried down the hallway, leaving behind a very puzzled Harry Potter.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Hermione slumped back onto the pillows of the bed in her old room. To say that she was exhausted, both physically and mentally, was putting it mildly. Hermione wasn't sure which had been more emotionally draining that day: the ordeal with Nappa or her mother's hysterics at finding out her only daughter was still alive. She'd spent a few wonderful hours with her parents, answering their questions as best she could and allowing her mother to spoil and baby her until she could stand it no longer and had pled fatigue. Her mother had insisted she spend the night at home, and Hermione had gratefully agreed. Truth be told, she wasn't looking forward to facing Harry again and dealing with the big pink elephant that his ill-timed declaration of love had put in the room.

All Hermione wanted to do now was sleep, which was funny given that the face from her nightmares of the past several weeks was fresh in her mind. But it wasn't Nappa's face she saw when she closed her eyes. It was Harry's.

Punching her pillows, she turned to her side, seeking a more comfortable position. She lay there for a long time, but sleep wouldn't come. Her brain kept screaming at her. Over and over, it kept repeating three words.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Hadn't that been what she'd wanted to hear from Harry all along? He'd finally said the words, so why wasn't she over the moon about it?

Then another voice intruded into her subconscious.

I suppose it shouldn't surprise me that she doesn't inspire a great devotion in you. She isn't exactly the kind of witch who would.

Hermione turned to her other side.

That bushy, brown hair and dull mud colored eyes are hardly enough to incite a man to passion.

Hermione flipped to her back.

Book-smart know-it-all.

Hermione sighed deeply and squeezed her eyes closed.

Body is passable enough.. Convenient. A wizard needs to scratch that itch once in a while.

Tears leaked from beneath her tightly closed lids.

I suppose Potter has whispered pretty words of love to you and you believed him, didn't you? Because you wanted it to be true. You wanted to think someone could love you. Foolish girl. No one could love you. Least of all the great Harry Potter. He could have any beautiful witch in his bed that he wanted. Why would he want you?

Hermione rolled to her side, pulling her pillow in front of her. She hugged it tightly, burying her hot, tear-streaked face in the cool, crisp percale.

Stop it! she screamed at her mind. But Nappa's voice in her head pressed relentlessly on just as he had when he had held her hostage.

Has he ever even told you he loved you? Maybe when he was thrusting himself home in your passable little body? Or in the afterglow of what you thought was making love, but to Potter was just sex?

It wasn't just sex; we did make love, Hermione told herself. So why hadn't he said the words then?

Harry told her he loved her today. He had said the words.

After you both almost died. This time it was her own voice that taunted her. But he had said them. But did he really mean them or was that just his guilt talking?

Maybe the great Harry Potter doesn't know how to love.

Did she believe that? Harry had told her that very thing once, when they had sat in his kitchen. But she had told him that she would teach him how. Is that what Harry had done? Learned the words by rote that the teacher wanted him to say, and then recited them at the appropriate moment?

Hermione wasn't a beautiful witch. She knew that. But she knew she was smart and kind and cared about the welfare of others. She knew her friendship with Harry was true and deep. And he did care about her. More than cared.

That night they had spent together hadn't just been about sex. Hermione was sure about that. She'd never been with another man before but she knew that Harry had desired her. More than desired; he'd been so kind and considerate with her the first time. Those weren't the actions of a man merely trying to sate his passion. And the second time had been so wild and hot. She knew he had lost himself in her as much as she had lost herself in him. It didn't matter what Nappa had said. Harry hadn't just used her for his own sexual gratification. It had meant something. It had been special. Hadn't it?

Nappa's words and her own self-doubt chipped away at the little faith she held.

Hermione sat up abruptly, flinging her tear-drenched pillow across the room where it slid soundlessly down the wall. Drawing her knees up to her chest, she wrapped her arms around her legs, laid her head against her knees and sobbed out all her doubts and fears.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*

If Harry Potter had to fill out one more form, he was going to explode like a blast-ended skrewt. His sighs and grumbles must have gotten too loud because his partner put down her quill in disgust, walked over to his desk, removed the quill from his hand and placed it forcefully on his desk.

"Hey," Harry exclaimed, looking up at Elizabeth belligerently. "That's my good quill." Harry picked up the crumpled eagle's feather and tried to smooth out the rumples.

"Go home, Harry," Elizabeth said simply.

"I can't," Harry sighed. "I still have too much to do."

"It will still be here in the morning. You're tired. You've been through a stressful ordeal. You need to go home and try to get some sleep."

"I could go check on Hermione," Harry said, his countenance brightening.

Elizabeth sat down on the edge of Harry's desk as he pushed back in his chair. "She sent you the note that she's spending the night at her parents. It's probably best to allow her some time alone with them."

"I need to see her. To make sure she's all right."

Elizabeth sighed regretfully. The secret crush she'd harbored on her partner for so long extinguished on her exhale like a blown out candle. She recognized that look in Harry's eyes. "You really love her, don't you?"

"More than I ever thought possible."

Lucky witch, Elizabeth thought. "Have you told her that?"

"Yeah, right before you and Draco came into the room and so rudely interrupted us," Harry grinned.

Elizabeth shook her head in exasperation at her clueless partner. Wizards. "You mean to tell me that you told Hermione you love her for the first time right after she'd just been terrorized by Nappa. With him still laying on the floor dead in the same room, no less?"

"Well, when you put it that way," Harry began sheepishly. "But I do love her and I didn't want to put off telling her any longer."

"I can understand that, Harry. I'm just saying your timing could have been a bit better," Elizabeth admonished gently.

"You're probably right about that," he agreed. "In fact, I should have told her a long time ago. I think I've loved her since our first kiss. But I was too scared to tell her that. Something happened when her lips met mine for the first time. I'd kissed my share of witches, but it had never been like that before. And it was with my best friend."

"And you didn't want to lose that." Elizabeth stated.

"No. But then I realized I'd be losing so much more if I didn't give us a chance. Ron taught me that."

Elizabeth smiled. "Hermione is very lucky to have you, Harry."

"I'm the lucky one. When I thought Nappa was going to hurt her today..." Harry had to clear his throat before he could continue. "I love her more than anything in my life, Elizabeth. I can't live without her."

Elizabeth gently placed her hand on Harry's arm. "You won't have to. She's safe. She's at her parents and you'll see her in the morning when we go pick her up for the debriefing."

Harry ran his hand through his already untidy hair causing it to stand on end even more. "I know."

"Go home, Harry," Elizabeth repeated her former imperative. "I'll meet you at the Grangers at nine o'clock."

Harry unfolded his tall form from his office chair. He smiled down at his partner, and then bent down to give her a warm hug, which she returned fondly.

"Thanks for being such a great friend and partner, Lib." He used the nickname only her closet friends and family were allowed to use. He dropped a kiss to her dark, curly head and Disapparated.

"Hermione Granger, I hope you realize what a truly lucky witch you are." Elizabeth said to the empty room. She flopped down into Harry's chair, opened the next file, picked up the quill and began to write.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Standing at the mirror, Hermione carefully surveyed her face. She'd used a cold wash cloth compress, but her eyes still looked red and puffy with dark smudges underneath. Too bad she didn't have her wand, she could erase the signs in a second. But her wand was long gone and Eric's had been taken by Nappa, so ineffective Muggle methods were all she was left with.

She carefully considered the rest of her appearance. Luckily, she still had a few outfits at her parents' house. She had chosen a dark brown tailored pant suit and wrangled her hair up into a French twist. Except for her puffy eyes, Hermione looked very put together.

Not able to put off the inevitable any longer, Hermione opened the door to her bedroom and heard the raised voices drifting up the stairs. She immediately picked out her father's voice, followed closely by Harry's. She walked slowly to the top of the staircase.

"I still can't believe you let us think Hermione was dead all this time." The stress from the ordeal was still evident in John Granger's voice.

"I thought it was for the best. We wanted everyone's grief to seem as real as possible and the more people who knew she was alive, the harder it would have been to keep her safe," Harry tried to explain, but was quickly losing his patience.

"People? Dear God, Harry, we are not simply people. We are her parents and we should have been the first people who were told of the plans for our daughter. And don't even get me started on the prospect of the great Harry Potter keeping her safe. She hasn't really been safe from the first day she met you, has she Harry? If you were really concerned about her welfare, you'd stay the bloody hell away from my daughter!"

"You can't keep me from seeing Hermione!" Harry shouted.

Elizabeth placed her hand on Harry's arm, calming him slightly. She seemed to sense that the frustration and anger that was rolling off the Doctors Granger had been festering for years. Like a scab that never healed. Because in some small part, they were right.

"We need to take her in for the debriefing," Harry said with a little less ire.

"What you need? Honestly Harry, I don't give a rat's arse what you need right now. Hermione has been through too much these last few weeks. She needs to rest and to heal."

Taking in a deep breath in an attempt to keep his anger in check, Harry tried to placate Hermione's father. "I want what's best for Hermione, too. I'll make this as quick and painless as possible for her," Harry assured him.

Mr. Granger gave a derisive snort. "You want what's best for Hermione? You're the reason she was in this mess to begin with. Everything bad that has ever happened to my daughter can be traced directly back to you. Since she was eleven years old, she's done nothing but follow you around like a loyal puppy. And what has that got her? Hurt. Both physically and emotionally."

Hermione descended the staircase. "It's okay, Dad. I need to get this over with. The sooner the better."

Harry smiled in relief at seeing Hermione. Walking over to her, he drew her into his arms, but she didn't reciprocate; her arms remained firmly by her sides. After a moment, Harry realized she was not returning the embrace so he released her with a questioning frown.

"Elizabeth," Hermione walked over to her. "I don't have a wand so I'll need your help Apparating to headquarters."

"Sure, Hermione. You coming?" Elizabeth asked Harry.

"I'll be there shortly. I want to finish my conversation with the Grangers."

Elizabeth placed her hand on Hermione's arm and they Disapparated.

"What's wrong with Hermione?" Harry asked in concern, turning to Sara Granger in the hopes of getting a more tempered response. Unfortunately, his hopes were dashed with a withering look from Hermione's mother.

"What's wrong with Hermione?" Sara Granger said scathingly, "What's wrong with Hermione is that she spent the night shut in her room, sobbing her heart out."

The anguish showed clearly on Harry's face. "Why didn't she send me an owl?" he asked, bewildered. "I would have come straight away."

"Why would she send for you?" Mrs. Granger's eyes spit fire. "You're the reason she spent the night crying."

If he'd been blindsided by a Bludger, Harry couldn't have been more surprised. "Why? Does she blame me for what happened with Nappa?"

"Hermione has never blamed you for anything, Harry. Ever. All she has ever done is love you. Totally and unconditionally. And what has she ever gotten from you in return? Nothing more than being taken for granted and your ridiculous expectations. You couldn't finish an essay --Oh, don't worry, Hermione will help. Dark Lord needs defeating-- Good ole Herms will find the right potion. Can't find the right gift for the girlfriend du jour-- dear sweet little Hermione will suggest just the right thing."

Sara could see Harry's mouth open and shut in an attempt to get a word in edgewise, but she held up her hand to stop his words and, in a rather defeated voice, continued, "Harry, my daughter fancies herself in love with you. Do her one kindness now. One kindness for all the years she has supported you. Tell her how you feel. Even if you don't return her feelings, set her free. Harry, please." At this, Sara collapsed into the nearest chair, obviously overcome with the emotions of the last twenty four hours.

Bending down to take Sara's hands in his, Harry almost whispered, "I love your daughter. Totally and unconditionally. I've made a mess of things in not telling her before yesterday. But she knows, Sara, she does know now."

And it was at that moment that Sara and John Granger could read the truth in Harry's eyes, along with the hurt and bewilderment. Hermione's father placed his hand on the younger man's shoulder sympathetically, some of his anger draining away with the realization. "Too little too late, Harry."

"No!" he responded vehemently. "I won't let it be."

Through her tears, Sara Granger smiled sadly. "You really do love her, don't you?"

"With all my heart," Harry answered without hesitation, looking unwaveringly into Hermione's parents' eyes.

"Sometimes, Harry, when you don't say the words, the hurt just goes too deep to repair," Mr. Granger said softly.

"No, I don't believe that. Hermione knows better than anyone how hard it would be for me to say those words. She'd know I meant them. It has to be something else. Did she say anything to the two of you about something that happened with Nappa that I don't know about? Maybe while I was unconscious?"

"No, Harry," Mrs. Granger answered. "She gave us very few details of what happened to her. She said she'd rather not talk about it and we respected that. We knew she'd been through a very trying time."

"If Nappa did something to her..." Harry's jaw clenched. "I've got to get back to headquarters. Thank you for speaking with me."

As Harry prepared to Disapparate, he turned to the Grangers, "I'm so sorry. Sorry for the past few weeks and the hell I know you must have lived through. But more importantly, I am so sorry for causing a single tear to roll down your daughter's cheeks. And if she will let me, I'll spend the rest of my life ensuring that not another tear falls from her eyes in sadness or anger." And with that, Harry Disapparated.

Sara Granger shook her head sadly. "Well, I do feel a bit better knowing how much he loves our Hermione."

Mr. Granger nodded. "I just hope they both realize it before it's too late."

John Granger opened his arms, and his wife went willingly into them. "Why does love have to be so hard?" she asked softly.

"I don't know, sweetheart. But I do know that when it's right, it's worth every bit of the struggle."

Sara Granger smiled up at her husband and then their lips met halfway as they confirmed the love they'd shared for many years.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

By the time Harry walked into the interrogation room, Elizabeth was already making notes on a piece of parchment. Hermione sat across the table from Harry's partner, her hands wrapped around a steaming cup of tea. Harry drew up a chair close to Hermione on her side of the table.

"What happened next?" Elizabeth asked.

"Nappa started taunting me about how Harry couldn't love me." Hermione stared directly at Elizabeth, not glancing at Harry at all. Her voice was a dull monotone. "Because I was ugly. A book-smart-know-it-all. He said that Harry could have any witch he wanted. That he'd just used me because I was convenient."

"Stop, Hermione," Harry commanded, a catch in his voice. "I've already told Elizabeth the details of what Nappa said. You don't have to go back over all that." Harry took one of Hermione's hands from around her cup and held it in his own.

"Why not, Harry?" she asked, looking at him for the first time since he'd entered the room. "It's the truth."

Sudden realization hit Harry. "The truth as Nappa saw it or as you do?" Harry couldn't keep the hurt from his voice.

"The truth is the truth no matter who says it, isn't it?"

Elizabeth rose quickly from her chair. "I think I need to go get more parchment." Neither Harry nor Hermione noticed when she left the room.

"You can't mean to tell me you believe his lies?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Which lies? That I'm ugly? That I'm a book-smart-know-it-all? Or that you never really loved me? That I was just a convenient way to scratch an itch?"

Harry pulled Hermione to standing, knocking his chair back in the process. He grasped her shoulders with his hands. "How can you believe any of that, Hermione? Okay maybe the book-smart-know-it-all part was a bit true." Harry tried for a bit of humor to lighten the tense situation. The narrowing of Hermione's eyes convinced him that was the wrong tack to take. She was dead serious. And that made Harry furious.

"I thought you knew me better than that, Hermione," he bit out tersely. "I don't go around using witches for a meaningless sex. Especially not my best friend. I love you, Hermione."

"So you say now. But what about after the first time we made love, if that's what it really was. There weren't any declarations of undying love then. Maybe Nappa was right. Maybe I was just a convenient shag."

"Hermione, if all I'd wanted from you was to scratch an itch, I could have had you that night we first kissed and you were all over me, begging me for it."

The sound of Hermione's palm forcefully connecting with Harry's check resounded through the room. Hurt and anger battled in her eyes.

"Good bye, Harry."

Hermione brushed past Elizabeth, who stood in the open doorway.

"You blew it big time, buddy."

Harry wasn't sure what hurt worse, his flaming red cheek or the fact that Elizabeth was right.