An Empty Shell

Chapter 1

Hermione's POV:

I was curled up, fast asleep, on the waiting room chair when someone shook me awake. I lifted my head and peered through the haze of sleep. I saw Ron's slightly blurry face and jumped to my feet.

"What happened? Is he okay? Has he spoken yet? Did something go wrong?" 

Ron took my arm and started leading me down the hallway, shaking his head. "He hasn't said a word. But the nurse was able to get him to take a sip of water without choking. You'd said to wake you up if anything changed, and that changed." 

I nodded, rubbing my eyes. "Of course. Thank you for letting me know."

We stopped outside of Harry's room. He had his own, not that he knew it. He hadn't spoken a word, or even shown any signs of life, since the Battle. He just stared into space, not making a sound.

At first, I slept in his room, curled up on a chair. I was scared he would stop breathing and no one would know. He was already so quiet, it would have been hard to tell even though I was right next to him.

I opened the door and forced a smile onto my face. "Hey, Harry! I heard you drank a bit today!" I said cheerily as I walked over to the chairs beside his bed.

He didn't acknowledge Ron or myself. He just kept staring at the opposite wall, seeming to be staring into nothing.

Ron sat in the chair beside me and rested a hand comfortingly on my shoulder as I took Harry's hand.

It had been six months. Six. Months. Six months and he hadn't said a word or made a sound. And I hadn't left. I had sent letters to my parents who were now back home and spoken with the Weasleys, but I hadn't left St. Mungo's for a minute.

I was terrified that something would happen to Harry if I left. Like he would die and I wouldn't be there. He had been through so much, I didn't want him to die alone.

Ron kept trying to get me to leave and get some fresh air, but I always shook my head and insisted that I was fine. There was a shower in Harry's bathroom that I used to freshen up, and I would make quick trips to the cafeteria for food. I didn't want to leave him alone for longer than I had to. It was only recently that Ron has been able to get me to start sleeping in the waiting room. He said it was better than being in the stuffy room all day.

Harry was my best friend. He had always been my best friend. And I knew that if the situation were reversed and I was the one stuck in a bed, unable or unwilling to move, Harry would be right beside me. I had to do the same for him. I owed him that, didn't I?

The Weasleys had come to visit several times, but he didn't give any response that he knew they were there. Not even when he saw George with his electric blue hair. George had said it was time for a change, but we all knew that it was so he wouldn't keep seeing his brother in the mirror.

So far, we had managed to keep the reporters out and away, but we knew we wouldn't be able to for much longer. Kingsley had used his power as temporary Minister to try and get them to back off, but they were insistent. Even my threats over Rita Skeeter wouldn't keep her from trying to buzz her way into a juicy story.

"Harry. You're okay now. It's over. We won." I had been saying it over and over, hoping that at least one of the million times it would reach him. It didn't seem to have worked.

"Hermione, why don't you get some sleep? I'll look after him. He won't pull anything with me around." Ron was smiling at me, but I was doubtful. Worried. I couldn't stand another person dying, especially if I could have been there to stop it.

"I...I'm alright here," I said softly, but Ron shook his head and lifted my hand so it was off of Harry's.

"Hermione. You're exhausted. I shouldn't have woken you up in the first place, but I was worried you'd be angry with me. Please, 'Mione. Get some sleep."

I looked over at him, then back at Harry. "Only for a bit, though. Then wake me up. You look terrible too, so you need it as well."

Ron chuckled and stood when I did. "I look better than you."

He nodded at me, and I left the room, casting one last anxious glance at Harry. He was still staring at the wall, seeming unable to understand what was going on. Either that or he just didn't want to.

I was lost in my thoughts as I was walking and accidentally crashed into someone. I rubbed my forehead as I stumbled back and started profusely spluttering apologies.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't see where I was going and I just---"

"Granger?"

I looked up and saw that I was looking into the shockingly silver eyes of Draco Malfoy.

Before I knew it I had wrapped him in a hug. He jumped in surprise, then awkwardly patted me on the head. I didn't know why I was hugging him. No. I knew why. I really needed one. I needed Ron to think that I was handling things well even though it was completely the opposite, so I couldn't break down near him.

"Are...Are you okay?" 

I pulled away and wiped away the tears that had suddenly sprung to my eyes. "Yes. No. I...It's Harry." 

Draco's brow creased in confusion.

Yes, I called him Draco. It was after the war and everybody deserved a second chance, right?

"What's wrong with him?" 

I rubbed my eyes. My vision was in a constant haze, probably from lack of sleep. And food. And water. Really, just about everything.

"He won't talk. He'll barely eat. He won't do anything. Something's wrong with him, but we can't figure out what it is."

I leaned against the wall and pressed a hand against against my forehead. It was easing the pounding in my skull.

Draco's brows furrowed again as he thought.

"Why are you here?" I suddenly asked and looked up.

"Oh. Er...well, honestly, the Ministry said I had to get a checkup if I am to go back to regular life. They said that the healers had to say I was mentally and physically capable of living on my own and out of the kind care of the Azkaban guards." Oh right. He went to Azkaban for a few months. Then stayed in a cell in the Ministry, didn't he? I couldn't remember. My brain was fuzzy.

"I'm so sorry. Erm...what did they say?" 

He shrugged. "They said I'm as fit as anyone who spent a few months surrounded by dementors." He sighed as he looked over at me. "Get some sleep, Granger. You look ready to fall over." 

I chuckled. "Since when are you nice to me?" 

He raised an eyebrow. "Since when do you hug me?"

"Touché." I chuckled as I walked back to the waiting room and curled up on the couch.

It took a while, but I managed to fall back asleep. But even then it wasn't into a peaceful one.