After

-Chapter One-

"A Time to Heal"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There is a saying, 'It's better to have loved and lost, than to never have loved at all'. This phrase is a cliché and severely overdone, but its meaning rings true for all situations where one suffers a deep loss. No one enjoys losing someone, but sometimes loss is a harsh fact of reality.

In the weeks after 'the end', the Wizarding world was numb. Many, torn between elation for the downfall of Voldemort and depression for the family and friends lost, sunk into their own reality. There they could find their own form of twisted solace. Others, facing the truth head-on tried to fill the gaps in the working order of the Wizarding community.

Shops were temporarily closed, parties were thrown, memorial services planned. In this constant chaos, few had time to stop and consider the future. Who could, when living in the present was its own kind of miracle.

St. Mungo's was full. All of the available rooms had been filled, and the patients didn't stop coming. Seeing as there is no way to tell people to just stop hurting themselves, the hallways of St. Mungo were now full as well. The whole place was in disorder, and with no way to keep proper track of patients, regretfully, there were some that fell in the cracks.

The healers at St. Mungo's had trained themselves to stop thinking about their patients. If you stopped to think, you would be utterly overwhelmed due to the enormity of the situation. If you stopped to think, the actuality of everything would suddenly become clear. The Wizarding world had won out, but at a high price.

Because of the abrupt inattentiveness of the healers, and most of the patients, no one noticed Hermione sitting ruefully outside the Hexes wing on the fourth floor. Pondering as she absently pulled on her full brown hair. Although still unbelievably bushy, her hair was somewhat more under control than it had been in her Hogwarts days.

She studied her hands, fondling the ring on her left hand, contemplating what it meant. She quietly memorized her hands, as if in fear that they might disappear any moment. She had been this way for some while, silently taking in her surroundings, absorbing every detail, privately hoping it all wasn't some horrible dream. The past few days had passed in a blur for Hermione. She honestly couldn't recall what she had done to pass the time, but it flew, one fatal moment after another.

Hermione had never felt so helpless in her entire life. Not since she had to leave Harry alone, in the forbidden corridor so she could help Ron their first year. 'We did some crazy things when we were younger.' Hermione half smiled, the memories of Hogwarts were some of her favorites. This was not the first time she had sat and pondered the life she had at Hogwarts. 'But, that was before the war.'

Sighing inwardly, Hermione wrapped her blanket tightly around her. She was not cold, but the gloom of the corridor made her shiver. Closing her eyes against the tears that threatened to fall for the umpteenth time, Hermione could feel her body start to succumb to the arms of sleep. She tried to will herself not to sleep, for in sleep the nightmares came. In sleep, she was faced with hollow images of war and pain.

'Don't think about that!' She berated herself. 'You don't want to remember.'

Feeling immensely sorry for herself, Hermione was continuing to stave off sleep, when a voice forced her awake.

"Hermione?"

Drowsily lifting only one eyelid, Hermione stared at her rescuer. Recollection took its time, but after a few moments, Hermione recognized the soft red hair of Ginny Weasley. "Ginny!"

"I thought I'd find you here," The surprising morose Weasley responded. "I was here with Mum and Dad, visiting Fred and Ron, so I thought I'd come and find you."

"How are they doing?" Hermione wearily asked.

"Better, the healers are hoping that they'll be able to return home in a few weeks. At least what's left of it."

Hermione winced at the reminder of the Weasley's terrible loss. Images of the rubble that had once been the burrow passed through her mind. Hoping to find a way to change the subject, Hermione inquired, "How's your mom holding up?"

Ginny sensed Hermione's attempt at a change of topic, and decided to play along. "She's doing well. But, you know mum, not having anything to do is nearly killing her."

Hermione smiled sadly, she knew exactly how Mrs. Weasley felt.

"How are you holding up, Ginny?" Hermione eased.

Ginny's composure immediately stiffened, and Hermione couldn't ignore the slight sob that escaped Ginny's lips. Losing all resolve not to cry, Ginny let the tears flow.

"I'm . . . sure I-I'm . . . not d-doing . . . as w-well as I l-let on!" Ginny sobbed.

Hermione, surprised at Ginny's apparent distress, took her friend's hand and pulled her into the seat next to her. By now, Ginny was blubbering like a baby. Suddenly Hermione wasn't tired anymore.

"It's alright Gin! I understand." Hermione helplessly attempted to sooth Ginny, while her own emotions threatened to surrender.

"They still haven't found him, you know. Even now, after all this time, they can't find George. They can't even find a body." Ginny stated after a good cry. "I wish beyond all hope that he is still alive, but if he isn't, I just want to be able to put him to rest."

Hermione nodded sympathetically, having faced her own demons of grief, she understood how the youngest Weasley felt about now. "I know Ginny, I felt the same way after the war, when I didn't know where Harry was. I honestly thought he was dead, and if he was, I wanted to find a body to bury." Hermione paused as emotion threatened to take over. "I guess I was one of the luckier ones."

"How is Harry?" Ginny asked as if she suddenly realized he exists.

"Better..." Hermione found herself saying. "The healers have managed to heal everything they could, but they still haven't been able to wake him. We all hope that he'll wake soon, but we're not sure that he will."

"For all our sakes, I hope he does." Ginny expressed.

The conversation halted, and they both sat in companionable silence until Arthur Weasley came for Ginny.

"I'm sorry Hermione, but Molly wants to speak with Ginny..." Mr. Weasley trailed off, suddenly deep in thought.

"It's alright, I should go and check on Harry, then head home. I'm sure Crookshanks has gone batty by now." Hermione tried to hide her disappointment by suddenly finding a reason to become busy.

"Thanks 'Mione!" Ginny sighed, patting her friend one the shoulder. "Be sure to come and visit Ron before you leave."

"I will, Ginny. You be sure to tell him I'll come."

Pondering, Hermione watched them leave. "Ginny?" she called. "I'm sure they'll find George, and soon."

Ginny smiled in reply and continued toward her mother's room.

So much has changed since the war...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hermione entered the familiar room to find Remus Lupin sitting by Harry's bed. Remus looked like he had been through the wringer. His hair was flying in multiple directions, and he had dark circles under his eyes, due to lack of sleep. Hermione assumed that she must look somewhat close to the same state.

Lupin glanced up as she entered, his eyes searched expectantly for answers he knew he may not receive.

"No word from the healers." Hermione answered his silent questions.

"Nothing's changed anyway." Lupin drew in a deep breath, and released it slowly. Hermione recognized this as one of his mechanisms for stopping tears. Hermione herself has need of a few such mechanisms herself.

"Why don't you get some rest? I will floo you if anything happens." Hermione offered. She was silently hoping to have some alone time with Harry.

She let out an almost audible sigh when Remus accepted. "I suppose I am in need of some rest, I'm no good to anyone while I'm half-asleep." He rose from his chair and stretched his arms. "Besides, I'm sure you are in need of some time with him." Remus almost smiled as he passed her out the door.

"Be sure to say good-bye to the Weasley's on your way out." Hermione coaxed.

"I will."

Then he was gone, leaving Hermione alone with Harry. Suddenly Hermione felt slightly weird. What do you say to a man who's unconscious? The idea was absolutely ludicrous, but she knew that if she didn't unload, she was likely to explode.

"Hi Harry," she began. "It's me, 'Mione. I don't know if you can hear me or not, but I'm just going to talk anyway."

She took his hand in hers and leaned her head on his bed. She found pleasure in just watching him sleep. Entranced by his rhythmic breathing, Hermione found it hard to continue.

"I miss you, Harry. I really do, and despite what you think, I think Crookshanks misses you too. That darn cat just can't figure out why you're not around. You know, I don't think I can either. It just doesn't make any sense. There's nothing wrong with you. You just won't wake up."

Hermione lifted her head and watched his face for any reaction.

"Why won't you wake up? I really want you to. I really need you to." Hermione wiped at her eyes with the back of her free hand. "I can't do this alone, Harry. I just can't. The whole world is wrong. Everything's wrong. Hogwarts is closed, and so is the ministry. Even Diagon Alley is mostly shut up. Everyone's hurting. I'm hurting."

Breathing deeply to try and keep her voice from cracking, Hermione continued, "You'd think that the end would be better." Hermione paused to consider the irony. "That since Voldemort's gone, everything would just get better. It hasn't, oh Harry, it hasn't. It's not worse. It's just not better. I can't do this without you, Harry. The world is an insane place now. This is not place to raise a child, Harry."

Unable to control her tears this time, she just let them flow. "I-I'm Pregnant, Harry. I've known for a while now. I knew before the war. I just didn't know how to tell you. I didn't want to tell you. Not while the world was still in pieces. Besides, I knew you would over react, like you always do, and make it seem like I was stricken with some disease that rendered me totally helpless." Hermione found herself smiling at the truth in her words. "But, now I wish more than anything that I had told you, that you had known before..."

"I need you Harry, please come back to me. If not for me, for your child." Hermione leaned in and kissed Harry's forehead, in an effort to communicate what she couldn't with words. "I have to go now Harry, I need rest, and I think I just need to go home. I love you, Harry."

It took all of Hermione's will power to rise and exit the room. But, she knew she had to. She had to get some rest. These insane nights without sleep couldn't be good for her baby.

Heading down the hallway toward Ron's room, she couldn't help but be thankful for all she had. She had a child, and she had a husband, who would someday come back to her. If only that someday were soon.