The only family I have Left.

Chapter 32

The late afternoon light poured through the tall windows of St. Mungo's, casting a soft, golden hue over the room. The sterile, white walls seemed warmer now. Softer. As though they, too, were relieved.

Gracie stirred under the covers. Her eyelids fluttered, and her breathing grew more even. Her fingers twitched as she shifted, ever so slightly, toward the light.

Lily, who hadn't left the bedside for more than a few minutes since the collapse, sat up straighter. Her hand was already on Gracie's. "James," she whispered, hope rising in her voice, "she's waking up again."

James, standing quietly near the window, dropped the newspaper he hadn't really been reading and was at her side in an instant. "Gracie?" he said softly, brushing her hair back.

"Mum... Dad..." Gracie's voice was barely more than a breath, but it was there.

Lily's lips trembled with emotion. "Yes, darling. We're right here."

Just then, the door opened. Harry stepped in first—again. Behind him came Hermione, Ron, and Lavender, her hand tucked snugly into Ron's. George, Molly, and Draco trailed behind.

"She's awake?" Lavender asked softly, her voice cautious.

"She is," Lily replied, brushing a kiss to Gracie's temple. "She's here."

Ron's face lit up, the tension melting off his shoulders as he squeezed Lavender's hand. "Blimey, Gracie, you scared us out of our wits."

George grinned, though it wavered slightly. "Yeah, and Mum nearly hexed the Healer every hour for updates."

Molly let out a watery chuckle, dabbing her eyes with her apron. "Don't exaggerate, George. I only threatened him once."

Hermione smiled, her curls slightly frazzled, eyes shimmering. She stepped forward, kneeling at Gracie's bedside and taking her hand gently. "You're so brave, Gracie. We've all been waiting."

Draco hovered just behind her, quiet and watchful. His expression softened the moment he saw Gracie awake, but his eyes stayed fixed on Hermione. She hadn't noticed him yet—too focused on Gracie. Until she turned to adjust Gracie's blanket and felt him brush against her shoulder.

Their eyes met briefly, and something unspoken passed between them. A flicker of shared worry, history, and something deeper. Hermione's breath hitched faintly, and Draco nodded—just once, just enough.

Lavender, still holding Ron's hand, leaned into him as he wrapped an arm around her waist. She tilted her head up. "Told you she'd make it."

Ron kissed her cheek in reply, muttering, "Never doubted her for a second."

Gracie looked from face to face, her voice a little stronger now. "You're all here."

"And we're not going anywhere," James said, smoothing a hand over her hair.

Hermione turned to look at her husband—Ron—sharing a soft, proud smile with him, before glancing once more at Draco. He stood a step back, hands in his pockets, gaze unreadable. But when Hermione mouthed "thank you" to him, he nodded again. A silent promise: whatever's coming, I'm with you.

Gracie leaned back into the pillows, her gaze drifting to the window, where light spilled in across the floor.

"There was someone," she murmured. "In the dark. He said I was the key."

Lily stiffened. "What kind of key?"

"I don't know yet," Gracie admitted. "But he wore silver. His magic felt... wrong."

Harry stepped forward then, a seriousness in his posture. "You don't have to face that alone. Whatever this is—we'll figure it out."

Hermione's voice was calm but firm. "You're strong, Gracie. But strength doesn't mean doing it by yourself."

"And she's a Potter," Draco added quietly, surprising them all. "They don't go down easily."

Hermione's eyes met his again. Something gentle flickered there. Familiar. Tender.

Gracie exhaled, the weight of her dreams pressing lighter on her chest. She didn't know what would come next, but for now, she had the people who mattered most.

Her family. And maybe, just maybe, something even stronger than magic itself—love.