“Harry! Finally!”

Harry blinked again and tried to see past the sea of brown in front of his eyes. His father had disappeared, but he still had the memories of how to make the antidote and of seeing Sirius and Ron again.

“Good. His condition was starting to worry me.”

Harry wanted to groan at the second voice, but it seemed like too much work. He was obviously in the Hospital wing and Madame Pomfrey was talking to someone else. But that didn't explain why he couldn't see.

“Harry? Are you awake? Can you hear us?”

The brown mass was swung out of Harry's face and suddenly Hermione was looking down at him. That makes more sense. Her hair and voice. Harry thought about reaching up and reassuring his girlfriend, but his arms were too heavy to lift and his throat felt like it was full of something thick and nasty.

Hermione took a step back from her boyfriend and sat down on the bed next to his. “Madame Pomfrey, is Harry going to be all right now?”

Harry moved his eyes to the mediwitch. He didn't feel very bad, but he also didn't feel very normal. And being normal was sounding more and more attractive even if he didn't feel great, normal would be nice.

“I've told you Hermione, you're staff. Call me Poppy. And Harry's going to be fine.” The mediwitch approached Harry and examined the vials in her hand. “It might take him a few days to get back on his feet.”

Hermione nodded nervously. “But he'll wake up again this time.” She got off the bed and took Harry's hand in her own. “I can't wait for you to get back to normal. I think that I might have almost found a cure.”

Poppy smiled at the couple and held up a potion bottle. “Right now the best thing for Mister Potter is rest. His brain needs the down time and his body will use the time to process these nutrient potions.” She held up another potion vial in her other hand.

Harry didn't want to take the potions, he wanted to find out what was going on and start on making the cure. Hermione would be a great help, especially if she'd almost already found one on her own. But he wasn't asked to take any potions.

Madame Pomfrey continued to talk to Hermione about her new leads on the cure as she rolled up Harry's sleeve and put her wand in the crux of his elbow. She tapped a vial with the handle of the wand and the potion began to flow into Harry's arm.

It hurt. Harry tried to pull his arm away or bend his elbow. Neither of them worked and he wished that swallowing the potions had been an option. The taste might not have been perfect, but it was certainly less painful and much quicker than the potion flowing in vein-style.

Hermione noticed her boyfriend wincing and took his hand in hers so he could squeeze it and try to draw his attention away from the pain. “Harry, what happened? Was it a vision from him?” Hermione and Harry had both stopped saying Voldemort around the time that Snape had fallen victim to the curse.

Harry felt his eyelids begin to slowly slip close. The wand had pulled away from his arm and he was feeling better and pain free. “Night Herm. . .” He whispered as he slipped back into Hypno's realm. This time for a relaxing, resting stay.

The next time that Harry woke up, he was alone and feeling completely normal. The Hospital wing was bright, the blinds open with sunlight streaming in. Judging from his hunger and the quiet, Harry guessed the time to be just before lunch or just after. It was too quiet for lunch hour.

Harry sat up and glanced around the room. He was the only patient in the hospital wing and both Madame Pomfrey and Hermione were nowhere to be seen. It was rather disheartening, now that he had such an important question to ask his girlfriend and an even more important potion to brew with her.

There was a stack of parchment sitting on end table and a quill next to it. Harry could tell it was Hermione's, she always chewed on the ends of her feathers. And the parchment was mostly blank, but the first few pieces had notes on her new formula for the antidote.

Sadly, Hermione wasn't as correct as Harry was hoping. H wrote down the antidote, making it easier for himself to remember then looked over his girlfriend's theories. She had some good points, but there weren't all the key ingredients and her cure was more like deadly poison than anything else. Of course, she probably knew that and was working on fixing it.

Harry started to play around with the numbers on the parchment. There was a charm simple enough that he could cast wandlessly. It made things on the paper move around and was quite fun to play with, if rather useless. And he wasn't suppose to use the spell in Hogwarts. It could be used for cheating too easily.

“Harry, you're awake!”

Harry looked up to see his girlfriend run in through the door of the Hospital wing. She was still in her teaching robes and they were billowing out behind her in a way that painfully reminded Harry of his father. “Hey Hermione.”

Hermione came to a stop and her robes and hair shot past her face due to their relative motion relationship to her body. “You've been sleeping for ages. I was so worried.”

Harry looked confusedly at her. “What do you mean? I thought that I woke up last night.” He looked around the room. “Madame Pomfrey used her wand. . .” His hand flew to his arm, but there wasn't a mark or any residual soreness from the potion entering his bloodstream. “That's odd.”

Hermione sat down on the side of his bad and took the parchment out of his hands so she could take hold of them. “You were in a vision state for a few days. The morning when we were going to eat in the Great hall? Do you remember?”

Harry gave her an odd look. “Of course I remember. And I've got the cure now! All we need to do is make it. I'll need your help.” He indicated the paper on the end table. “I wrote it all out. It's amazing. I can't believe we hadn't figured it out yet.”

Hermione, her eyes slowly filling with tears. “Oh Harry, I was so worried. You woke up and then you went back to sleep for ages. I didn't even know. . . It was just like with Professor Snape.” She clutched his hands tightly. “Don't ever leave me like that again.”

“I don't plan on it.” Harry pulled his hands from his girlfriend's. “I'll be right back.”

It only took Harry a moment to figure out that he shouldn't have said that. Hermione crossed her arms and glared at him. “Exactly where do you think you're going?” She asked as Harry sat up straight and swung his legs off the side of the bed.

“To take a shower.” Harry pointed to the back of the Hospital wing. “It's not far, there's no way I could sneak out.” He smiled. “Relax Hermione. I'm not going to disappear, or fall back asleep.”

Hermione nodded and wiped the sleeve of her robe across her eyes. “Can you manage? It's been quite some time since you've walked, or even stood up.” She got off the bed and moved around to the side he was on, ready to catch him if he fell.

“Hermione, I can manage.” Harry stood up and managed to make his way into the shower under his own power. His legs had started to shake after a few steps, but he'd made it. A shower will help, the hot water.

After his long shower, shaving and putting on clean robes, Harry left the showers. He felt and looked much better now, ready to head to Hogsmeade and find a ring. It was traditional to pass the engagement ring down through the family, but Snape hadn't mentioned a ring and Lily been a muggleborn.

Harry headed back into the main room of the Hospital wing. The bed he'd been sleeping in had been cleaned and the bedclothes replaced. A fresh pair of the blue and white hospital pyjamas sat neatly folded on the bed and Madame Pomfrey and Hermione were sitting on the bed talking to each other quietly.

“I- Hermione.” Harry said, nervous to be disturbing the discussion. “Let's get to work on the cure. I want to finish it soon.” He smiled happily, trying to convey his excitement and anxiousnesses.

Madame Pomfrey stood up and Harry went through the same set of feelings that he experienced right before the Dark Lord attacked. This is not going to be good.

“Not so fast Mister Potter.” She motioned to the bed. “Sit down. I need to run another diagnostic.”

Harry groaned and Hermione glared at him. “Come on Harry. You have to make sure that you're fully recovered. You wouldn't want to get ill or have another vision so soon.” She pulled him down on the bed next to her. “It doesn't take long.”

Harry grumbled through the diagnostic and even more when Madame Pomfrey looked worriedly at the results that appeared to her in flowing green script. “You'll need to stay for a few more nights Harry.” She told him gently. “Just to make sure you're fully recovered.”

That had not been what Harry wanted to hear. He flung himself back onto the bed. “I'm fine.” He protest, “and I've been sleeping for ages. Real sleep, not a vision!”

Hermione put a hand on Harry's shoulder. “Just relax. I've got some detentions to supervise, but I'll return as soon as I'm finished.” She gave her boyfriend a quick kiss and headed out of the room, her robes billowing behind her.

Harry huffed as he was forced to change out of his robes and back into hospital pyjamas. The garments brought back many memories, ones of his father being cursed, one of playing Quidditch. I can't remember the last time I played Quidditch, or went flying. I can't even remember the last time I went outside.

“No worries Harry.” Madame Pomfrey set down the potion vials she was carrying on Harry's end table and began to pour out his doses. “You'll be up and about again. Making the antidote and marrying your Miss Granger.”

Harry blushed at the mention of Hermione. “Wait, who did you know I was planning on asking her to marry me?” He asked, not remembering telling anyone other than his father. It wasn't a very old decision.

Madame Pomfrey handed him the first potion. “The way the two of you act. It's very sweet. Don't wait too long to ask her, or to take that.” She pointed to the potion in Harry's hands.

After choking down several different potions, Harry was finally allowed to rest. Madame Pomfrey hadn't given him a sleeping draft, something he was very grateful for. Once the lights were turned low and Madame Pomfrey told him she was going to retire for the night, Harry was very alert.

With only twenty minutes left before curfew, Harry got up and changed back into his robes are quickly and silently as he could. He then shoved his feet into hard soled slippers, lacking shoes, and hurried out into the corridor. There was only one thing he wanted to do. Save his father's life.