Listening In

Harry and Professor Snape are sitting in the room with me, discussing Quidditch. Civilly.

When I became aware of myself and my surroundings last night, apparently for the first time in six months, I thought I'd gone as far through the looking glass as one could travel. After all, I was being bathed by Professor Snape, a man who had spent seven years finding new and wonderful ways to hate me and my friends. According to him, at some point in the previous half-year, he married me. Bizarre. And consummated the marriage. Gross. And he has become friendly with Harry and Remus Lupin and Professor McGonagall. Inconceivable!

It's a good thing my brain woke up before my emotions, I think. Had it been the other way around, I'd have freaked out and died on the spot. As things stand, I've had a night and most of a day to take stock of the situation and organize my thoughts. Now that Professor Snape and Harry are having this ever-so-fascinating discussion about sport, I'll take some time out from listening and look at what I've learned. Maybe come up with a plan, although my options are limited by this dratted coma.

Fact: I was hit by at least one compound curse during the battle in the Great Hall. Initially, nobody could figure out what the curses were or how to break them. Last night, they gave me a potion that has brought me back to awareness (nice work, Professor Snape, for I imagine it was you who created the potion) but has not given me full consciousness. From what Professor McGonagall said last night, Step Two in the Reviving Hermione Process will involve Bill Weasley - in six months time! When I get really bored I'll figure out how many weeks, days, and hours that is. Couldn't they have waited to give me the potion? No, of course not... they didn't know if it would work. And now they don't know that it DID work. How will they know that it worked? What if they give me something else that undoes what this has done? What if...

Okay, now you're being ridiculous, Hermione. Breathe. I know you can't really control your breathing, but concentrate on feeling it happen. You're getting hysterical. Your brain (Okay, my brain) is your best attribute, USE IT! And DON'T PANIC!

Fact: I am married to Professor Snape. He is a very intelligent man. He is also skilled at Legilimency, as is Professor Dumbledore. They will no doubt be able to sense that I am thinking, so they will know that the potion did what it is supposed to have done. So I don't need to worry about that possibility. Everything will be fine.

Fact: Harry is alive! And married to Ginny! And she's pregnant! How THAT happened I have no idea. Not the pregnant stupid, the married. She's a seventh year and should be concentrating on her N.E.W.T.s. Oh my God, the N.E.W.T.s! I wonder how I did! It's been six months and I bet nobody will tell me; it's not likely to come up in conversation.

"So, Hermione, you're looking very well tonight, almost as good as your twelve N.E.W.T.s..." or maybe "Gee, Professor, it's a good thing she's still in her coma, she'd die if she found out she only got three N.E.W.T.s."

Okay, breathe... breathe... breathe...

Fact: Ron is dead. I saw that happen. He saved me from Lucius Malfoy's Avada Kedavra curse by jumping in front of me. Mrs. Weasley has had some sort of breakdown, according to what I learned from Professor Snape and Harry's earlier conversation. She blames Harry for Ron's death (and Percy's, which is even more unfair, as Percy was a Death Eater when he died). She hasn't spoken to Ginny since she and Harry got married. According to what my parents said to Harry this morning, she writes to my Mum as though I was dead too. All the other Weasleys are fine, though, and are in touch with my parents, Harry and Ginny, and the professors here at Hogwarts. They're all pitching in to help me. Apparently Charlie gathered the Dragon Tears for my potion by hand from the strongest dragon on the reserve, a very dangerous task. I think they are hoping that if I recover, Mrs. Weasley will as well. It would somehow make Ron's sacrifice worthwhile. My poor Ron...

Fact: My parents still have no understanding of the wizarding world. Apparently, they have visited me here every two weeks since I was cursed; Harry brings them. They have met with Madam Pomfrey, Professor Snape (I'm sure THAT went well), Harry, Ginny, Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, and myriad Healers. They still don't get it... that the curse is trying to devour my magic, that my magic is tied to my life force, and that unless I receive regular transfusions of magic, I'll die. How hard is that to understand? If they hadn't made such a big deal about everything, demanding to take me back into the Muggle world, I wouldn't have to be married to Professor Snape. This magical transfusion business is interesting though... it appears that Hogwarts itself is donating sufficient magic to keep my life force untouched. I don't know enough about Magical Theory to have a real understanding of how this is working, but it's a very interesting problem. When I wake up, I'll have to look into it. I hope someone was considerate enough to defer my University acceptance for a year, so that there is a place for me next September. Of course, if I only have three N.E.W.T.s, the point is moot.

Fact: Professor Snape is a very complex man. When Harry told us about what he'd seen in Professor Snape's Pensieve back in our fifth year, I felt sorry for the boy he'd been. But it was pretty clear that he was already a git (as Ron always called him). Last night, what he told me... it was heartbreaking! I'm so glad he stopped the traditional rape and bullying of first-years in his house. That he went through it at all, with no one defending him, is inexcusable. Where was Professor Dumbledore? Where was Professor McGonagall? Did the other students know? Did they torment him about it as well? I've known since the end of my fourth year here that there was more to him than met the eye. A former Death Eater, spying for the Order of the Phoenix within Voldemort's Inner Circle. One of my last memories is of him, fighting side-by-side with the other teachers that day in the Great Hall. You could see, in that fight, he was more than a champion duelist; he was a warrior. I need to think more about this, about who he is. After all, I'm married to him. In our world, marriage is for life. Even if, as he promises, he won't hold me to the marriage, we will have responsibilities toward one another. After I awaken, I'll need to know how to handle him. He was kind to me last night and this morning, he was pleasant to Professor McGonagall, and now he's being cordial to Harry. Maybe he's nicer than he used to be. Maybe I'll be able to deal with being married to him.

Will NOT think about sex. Ever. It's sort of awful, though, that I held out for my wedding night with Ron and ended up losing my virginity while I was completely unconscious. To Professor Snape. Gross. I'm not thinking about it! No!

Funny, I believed him when he promised not to take advantage of me, and when he said I could go free after I wake up. Clearly, he is not the man that everyone believes him to be. At some point that will begin to feel reassuring.

Fact: Voldemort has been defeated. Harry completely destroyed him soon after Ron and I were cursed. I don't know how many of my friends and fellow students died that day. I don't know what happened to the Death Eaters. Everyone is acting as though the world is safe, with Harry zipping my parents in and out of Hogwarts every two weeks. I need to know what happened, even if it is painful.

I wonder what I DO look like? Did Malfoy's curse leave a scar? Am I hideous?

Breathe... breathe... breathe...

Oh, Harry's kissing me goodbye. He held my hand while my parents were here too. That was good, my mum was really fluttery with the touching; it would have been excruciating if she'd been sitting next to me. Daddy didn't touch me at all. And neither of them spoke to me as Professor Snape, Professor McGonagall, and Harry did when they were alone with me. It's nice that they talk to me, even if they don't know I'm really there.

I remember Professor Snape saying something last night about keeping people from handling me. Just him and Madam Pomfrey, and apparently Harry as well. That's good. What am I talking about? That means that he takes care of me for everything! Everything! That's so embarrassing. Although it was nice this morning when he rubbed cream into my elbows and feet. He told me all about what he planned to do while my parents were visiting (grading, preparing materials for next week's classes) and where he would be (the Potions classroom, of course).

He told me about Harry and Ginny's baby, too, and how they are threatening to call it Hermione if it's a girl. So we'll pray it's a boy or, if it's a girl, that it's born AFTER I wake up and can talk some sense into them. A son will be Ronald, of course.

I think my plan for now is just to listen to everything that happens around me. It's clear that I can't do anything about anything at this point, but this is a marvelous opportunity to learn and to develop my memory. Since I'm apparently not going anywhere for six whole months, I'll work on getting used to living with Professor Snape, who has been kinder to me in the past twenty-four hours than in the seven years that I was his student.

I have to figure all of this out so I have a plan for when I wake up. I'll have a lot to do! Maybe six months won't be so long after all... I've got to have a plan.