A/N: Written for donjuantriumphs in the rlhg-exchange on Livejournal, 2009.

Disclaimer: All you recognise belongs to JKR and associates. All you do not, is mine. No profit is made from this fanfiction.

Bed Rest

Part One

Hermione grimaced as she slowly turned her head to one side, trying in vain to work out exactly where she was. It looked a lot like Hogwarts hospital wing only different, her groggy mind supplied. The stone walls and ceiling certainly looked familiar enough, but it was too dark to see much else.

Giving up on attempting to move any further, the pain from her back and neck too much, she sighed, already irritated at her lack of mobility, and instead decided to take stock of her physical condition. Not much else to do seeing as there wasn't anyone one about to ask and she couldn't exactly get up.

Well, my back certainly feels like I've been run over by the Knight bus a few times. Then like I was dumped on some hot coals just in case the bus didn't quite do the trick, she thought to herself glumly. She could vaguely remember someone yelling at her to get down, but being too slow to respond, she caught the full force of whatever curse had been sent her way and rapidly her world had gone black. She could remember no more, no matter how hard she tried to think, and promptly gave up as her head started to throb.

Licking her lips, and then pulling a face as she realised how dry and foul- tasting her mouth was, Hermione closed her eyes and tentatively tried to wiggle her toes. Best to start slow, I suppose...

"Ow," she said aloud, her voice coming out at nothing more than a hoarse whisper. Trying to move her toes seriously hurt and sent shock waves of spasms up her calf muscles. "Won't be trying that again," she mumbled.

Next on her list were her fingers, but once more this resulted in nasty contractions up her arms and made her muscles jump and twitch in her back. "Not good," she whispered, gasping for breath as her chest tightened further. Her muscles seemed to be in a cramp-like state and she felt herself getting dizzy as she fought against her tightening muscles to try and breathe. Her vision began to cloud and she panicked.

"Oh, no you don't," came a voice from somewhere to one side of Hermione. She felt a jab of what she dazedly assumed must be a needle and quickly her muscles begin to relax enough for her to be able to take in a deep gulp of air.

Turning her head slightly, Hermione could make out the silhouette of a woman – a Healer, her mind helpfully told her - and opened her mouth to speak.

"Shh, don't even try, Miss Granger. You're in no condition right now and I'm sorry you woke up. You're meant to be sedated for at least another two or three days so we can sort out the worst of the nerve damage." There was a pause as the Healer fiddled with something Hermione couldn't see. "Now, this will send you right back to sleep, Miss Granger. You'll be fine, you'll see."

Hermione's eyes went wide at the thought of being knocked out without the chance to ask any questions. Even though she'd been thinking predominantly about the pain she was in since waking up, she still wanted to know what had happened – what might still be happening! "But, I need to..." she began, her voice coarse and her throat tense and sore.

"Everything is well, Miss Granger," the Healer said calmly. Her tone was warm, but held an undercurrent of authority. "We won. It's over – at least the fighting is, anyway. The recovery, however..." She stopped suddenly, her tone turning more serious as she realised she wasn't doing her job. "Don't fret, Miss Granger, we won. What is important now is that you rest and heal." Pulling what Hermione slowly realised was her wand out of her apron, the Healer cast a sleeping spell, adjusted the covers around Hermione and left the room.

Hermione had brief seconds to wish she could have asked about the others – all of them – before she fell into a slumber, her breathing regular, even, and pain free.

x.x.x.x

"Is Miss Granger okay?" Poppy asked as the Healer slipped into the hospital wing's office and sat down on a vacant chair with an exchausted sigh.

"She is well. Or at least she will be. She was awake and I think she'd tried moving which, of course, triggered a spasm in her chest and lungs."

Poppy nodded and wrote a note on a small square of parchment on her desk. "I'll have to increase her monitoring, I think. She seems to come out of the enchanted sleep faster than most, regardless of who casts the spell and how much effort is put into it. We need to keep her asleep until the potions for her burns and nerves have done the majority of their work." Poppy moved a few pieces of paper about on her desk, checking her notes. "Another two days at least, according to the specialist," she added with a sigh.

The Healer opposite, a witch with short brown hair and a sweet smile named Anne, opened her mouth to add something when the fire in the office flashed green, indicating a Floo caller.

"I'll go check on the main wing," Anne said wearily, standing up with a quiet groan. "I hope that's the people at Mungo's telling you that they've finally found another Healer to come help us. I feel like I've gone ten rounds with a bludger right now."

Poppy smiled and rubbed a hand over her face as she moved to kneel in front of the fire. "So do I, Anne. I think I'll sleep for a month once our charges are well enough. Thank you, I'll be out to help with rounds once I've dealt with this."

Anne nodded and left the office, closing the door with a quiet click as she did. Poppy put her glasses on and knelt before the fireplace, answering the Floo call with a weary 'hello'.

"Madam Pomfrey," said a senior Healer from Mungo's, urgently. "We've found one of yours."

"One of mine?" Poppy asked, confused for a moment. It was late and she was running on two hours of cat-naps, if that. "You mean a student?"

"No, no, Order member. Well, we think."

"Oh!" Poppy exclaimed, her hand rushing to her mouth. "Well how is she or he?"

"He's not in a very good condition, but he's stable. Would you be able to take him? I know you're full to bursting, but, well, he's a registered werewolf and as much as I personally don't have issue with it, other patients might. We just don't have the room to isolate him at the moment." The man looked repentant, as if he hated to have to ask such a thing.

Poppy sat back on her heels, shocked. Remus was alive! "Yes, we'll take him," she replied immediately, quickly working out that they could fit him in... just about. "I'll sort out the paperwork on our end. How are we going to transfer him?"

"Medi-Stable Portkey's going to be the only way with his injuries, Madam," the Healer said with a frown. "Great Hall?"

Poppy nodded and stood up. Moving to her desk and finding the appropriate form she quickly jotted down the information necessary. A quick signature later and she passed it through the Floo to the Healer. "There, that's the approval. Shall we say in an hour then?"

The Healer blew out a breath, his head briefly disappearing from the Floo for a second as he checked with someone, before he answered. "Yes, one hour from now. Thank you." The man disappeared from the Floo with a wan smile and the Floo connection closed.

x.x.x.x

Inhaling deeply, Remus groaned as his ribs protested and he tentatively rolled onto his right side, finding the ache a little better once he had. That was one rough transformation, he thought to himself as he brought a hand to rub at his still-closed eyes. As he moved he realised with a start that he was covered by a blanket and that the 'ground' wasn't hard... it was actually quite soft.

Jerking upright, confused and wary, he stopped short as his ribs made themselves known. Painfully.

"Ow, shit," he gasped, pressing at his side in a vain attempt to stop the pain. "Ow, ow, ow, ow..." Slowly he lay back down, once more upon his right (mostly pain-free) side, taking in his surroundings as he did.

He was at Hogwarts. That much was obvious. The stone walls and the arched window to the left of his bed that he could just see over his shoulder meant he could be nowhere else. But he didn't recognise the room. He was in the hospital wing. He could tell that much from the view he could just about see from the window, but the room itself wasn't one he'd been in before; and over the years, he'd been in the hospital enough times to assume he'd seen them all.

"Huh," he said aloud. Taking in the rest of the room, which from the way his bed was placed was all on his right, he found his view was cut short by a white screen that seemed to run down the middle of the room. Not quite cutting the small room completely in half, it had a gap, near the wall that ran behind the head of his bed. He could see a door leading, he assumed, into the rest of the hospital wing.

Half wondering if that meant this was a shared room, he dropped his head back onto the pillow and gently held a hand over his ribs. He speculated how many were broken and why they were still so tender. If there was one advantage to being a werewolf, it was that broken bones usually tended to mend fast... though not always straight. And failing that, there was always Skelegrow or variations thereof. Which begged the question; why was he laid up in the hospital wing with still-broken ribs?

Confused and more than a little drained, Remus scratched at his jaw finding he had more than a modest amount of five o'clock shadow working its way over his chin.

Just as itchy as I remember, he thought to himself as he wished he had his wand handy to get rid of it. A glance at the small bedside cabinet told him it wasn't there, and it would probably be a bad idea anyway. Moving his hand back towards his ribs, Remus stalled. His skin... it was... white. He looked like he'd never seen the sun in his life and... yes, there... as he looked closely he could see his veins and arteries, on the inside of his wrist. The colour was wrong though, they were black. Which, to Remus, could only mean one thing.

Remus closed his eyes and slowly burrowed himself further under the blankets, realising with a shock that he was actually rather cold and that now he knew just exactly why that was.

He remembered now.

He'd been poisoned. Stabbed to be precise.

With a silver hand.

By Peter thrice-damned bloody Pettigrew.

x.x.x.x

Waking up a second time, Hermione was wary. As she came to, she was careful not to move too much and slowly opened her eyes, blinking wearily in the half-light in the room. Out of the corner of her eye, not moving her head, she could see some privacy screens and through them the light that streamed in from the window on the other side.

She wasn't sure, but she thought she was in a different area from to the last time she'd woken up. The ceiling and the walls still looked the same, but she wasn't as central in the room now and the presence of a screen made her wonder if she was no longer alone. Not that she knew whether or not she had been alone the last time.

She lay there for a while mulling things over in her mind before, growing impatient. She moved her head ever so slightly towards the screens, finding that although her neck was still sore, the movement was nowhere near as painful as before. She smiled, relived at the small achievement.

"Ah, you're awake, Miss Granger," said Poppy coming into the room, her arms full of various bottle and jars which she began arranging on the bedside table as she spoke. "Now don't move for a few more moments, I want to be sure of your condition before we try anything, okay?"

Hermione smiled and replied, "okay." Her voice barely a whisper.

"Well now, it's good to see you awake and coherent at last," Poppy said in her reassuring tone as she set the last of her load down on the bedside table. "We've been ever so worried these last weeks, Hermione. The combination of curses inflicted upon your person was most unusual and created more than a few problems in how we set about your treatment."

"W...weeks?!" Hermione stuttered, as loud as she could manage. It came out as a hoarse cry.

It had been weeks? Hermione had only thought it had been days, one week at most. Her mind had stopped listening to Poppy at that point, that one little word repeating over and over in her head.

Weeks!?

"Oh, yes. It's been about three weeks give or take a day. You were found in Diagon Alley, just after everything was officially finished and You-Know-Who, sorry, Voldemort, was finally defeated by young Mr Potter."

Hermione just blinked, too stunned at the news that it had been weeks to form a coherent response straight away. But, how could... weeks? I don't remember going to Diagon Alley... the last thing I remember was running... I... weeks!?

"Now then, let's get you sorted, shall we?" Poppy said, bringing her out of her thoughts sharply. "I'll get you some water once we're done."

"Oh, I suppose," Hermione replied, eyeing the bedside table-full of bottles warily. "Are those all for me?"

Poppy smiled, her hands on her hips, and nodded with a tilt of her head. "But let's see if we can get you sitting a little more upright first, shall we?"

x.x.x.x

Licking her lips, Hermione pulled a face at the realisation that she'd gone almost four weeks without brushing her teeth properly. It had been bad enough before, while the battle was ongoing and she'd not been able to do it for four days... but four weeks? Ugh. Spells were all well and good, and Poppy had obliged readily when she'd asked for one, but they didn't quite give you that nice clean feeling that a brush did... not to mention they lacked the minty-fresh taste.

Poppy had heaped numerous potions and unguents on Hermione, all the while talking as she did so, giving Hermione a roundabout update on how things outside the four walls were going. She'd been in and out in less than ten minutes, leaving with a small smile and a short explanation that they were more than a little short-staffed. Even Hermione noticed how run off her feet she looked.

Hermione was all too willing to take the nasty-tasting concoctions, overjoyed by the fact that she could sit up without too much pain now. A quickly administered pain relief potion had taken the edge off the spasms still running up and down her legs and arms and, although it still hurt, Hermione wasn't going to complain. Poppy had explained that her nerves were raw and regrowing in her extremities and that they should be less painful in about a week.

"Now, I'll be back in an hour," Poppy said, poking her head around the doorway that Hermione could see from her bed. "No getting out of bed and I expect there to still be water in that cup when I get back. No gulping it down. Your stomach won't be able to take it just yet," she added, pointing to the small non-spill cup in Hermione's hands.

Hermione nodded. "Thank you, Madam Pomfrey," she said, her voice still rough, but vastly improved. "Oh, before you go, may I ask something?"

"Yes, dear, what is it?"

"Am I alone in here?" she said, gesturing to the screens with a wary lift of her hand from her lap.

"Oh, I almost forgot!" Poppy exclaimed, her eyes wide. "How silly of me. No you aren't, Miss Granger. Sorry, but space is at a premium at the moment and I had to alter the arrangement of the room to fit someone else in. It's Remus Lupin actually," she said, smiling warmly in that direction, through the gap between the screens and the wall at that end of the room.

"Remus? But we all thought he was..." Hermione trailed off, unwilling to say the dreaded D word. Her mind was still trying to catch up with all that had happened.

"Yes, I know, dear. But apparently not. He was sent here from Mungo's. Once they knew of his condition they weren't able to keep him with things the way they are. Normally he'd have his own room, but they are even busier that we are. He's not very well at the moment, but he's improving every day," Poppy reassured her.

"Can you move the screens? If that's okay, I mean. I don't want to intrude on his privacy or anything..."

Poppy looked unsure for a moment, but then relented, nodding and drawing her wand out of her apron. Both of her patients had been to hell and back and while Remus was still sleeping for now, he would wake up soon – albeit for only a short time, knowing how bad his poisoning was – and at least then they could talk and support each other.

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey," Hermione said as she watched the screens shrink down to the size of a book and levitate over to the far corner of the room, out of the way.

"Poppy," she corrected, slipping her wand back into her apron. "Just Poppy, please."

Hermione smiled and tenderly settled back on her bed a little more, watching Remus sleep as her eyelids started to droop. She fell asleep to the sound of Remus' light snoring.

x.x.x.x

Remus groaned as he woke up, wondering for a few moments why his side hurt so much, before things came back to him.

Oh. Yeah. That.

Moving a hand through his hair as if to try and shake the sleepiness away, Remus opened his eyes to see that the screens had been moved and he could now see the other side of the room. It contained a bed and in it Hermione Granger, who was staring at him, smiling widely.

"Afternoon, Remus," she said softly, putting the thin book she'd been holding to one side of her blanket-covered legs.

Remus smiled a little and blinked, looking around the room once more before moving his gaze back to her. "Afternoon, Miss Granger," he said as he cautiously used one arm to lever himself into a more upright position, his other arm holding onto his chest as if it would collapse if he didn't.

"Hermione."

"Sorry?" Remus said, refocusing his gaze on her.

"Hermione. We've had this discussion before, Remus," she said in a slightly sing-song tone. "Remember that? Back at Grimmauld Place... that evening in the library?" Hermione's cheeks turned a little pink as she explained.

Remus smiled and dipped his head for a moment. "Yes, I remember, Hermione." Finally in a more upright position that would dare to call half-comfortable, Remus tenderly moved his hand over his ribs again, trying to ascertain just how many were broken. "Ow."

"What?" Hermione said, worry painfully evident in her voice. "Do you need Poppy?"

"Well, I suppose I should talk to her seeing as I haven't actually spoken to her or anyone else in... in... I don't know how long." He grit his teeth as he found another very sore spot and stopped testing, figuring it would be easier to just ask Poppy.

He watched as Hermione reached out carefully to the bedside table on her left, aiming for a small enchanted brass bell and biting her lip in what looked to be pain. She had almost grasped it when her arm jerked and it fell to the floor. She sighed and frowned, turning back to him with a small shrug. "Well, that should get her attention."

The bell, Remus knew from previous visits to the hospital wing, was linked to another set of bells in the office of the hospital, each one signifying a particular room or patient. Ringing it, per se, wasn't necessary, it was just movement that was required to activate the spell and bring the healer on duty to the room.

Remus settled as much as he could against the flattened pillows behind him. "So, uh, what day is it?" he asked, feeling more than a little silly to have to do so.

"Wednesday the fourth I believe Poppy said."

Remus frowned. The fourth? That doesn't make sense. That means I've been... well, who knows where, for over a month. What about the full moon? That should have been almost a week ago... six days... Merlin I hope I didn't.... Looking back towards Hermione he noticed her watching him, concern etched on her brow. She always has been such a worrier.

"Remus?"

Remus smiled at her, wanly. He was almost ready to fall asleep again and the only thing that was keeping him from doing so now was his anxiety about what he could have done in the last full moon. It was awful enough when he knew that that time of the month approached, but to not even remember that knocked him off kilter... he hated it.

"Oh, Remus, glad to see you in the land of the living," Poppy said with a smile as she entered the room at full speed. She was at his bedside in a blink of an eye, fluffing up his pillows and slowly guiding him onto them properly. "Now then, let's see how you are, shall we?"

Remus gently lifted his hand from his ribs and grimaced as Poppy nodded in confirmation of the question written all over his face. "Yes, I'm afraid you've got three broken ribs there, Remus. I'm not sure we're going to be able to do anything about them until we have that nasty silver out of your system which is something else we can't do anything about but wait, unfortunately."

"Well, I've made it this far..." he said slowly, resigned once again to the fact that his affliction made things like this a hundred times more difficult. "Poppy I have to ask, the last thing I recall was over a month ago... Hermione said it was the fourth." As he spoke, he made to sit up; gasping as his ribs once again reminded him sharply of their presence.

"Calm down, Remus," Poppy chided him, pushing his shoulder back gently onto the pillow and grasping his arm, taking his pulse at the wrist. "Yes, you've missed the full moon, but the report I have from Mungo's is that you were found on your own inside a collapsed building of sorts. You were unconscious when they found you and apart from waking once – you were delirious may I add – you haven't been awake since they brought you here. You were found four days ago. I dare say that if you did change, the wolf would have been in just as bad a condition as you now find yourself in, if not worse. I think it's safe to assume you didn't do any harm."

Remus nodded, accepting the news with Poppy's matter-of-fact tone and stern glare. She knew from the past how guilt-ridden he could become if things didn't go to plan, and the sooner she got it straight in his mind the better.

Straightening the blankets around Remus, Poppy cast a few refreshing and cleaning charms before retrieving another pillow from the store room outside. "Here," she said, helping him move slowly to accommodate it.

"Now, back to sleep with you, Remus. If your body says sleep, listen to it and do so." Poppy turned and left, sparing a quick warm glance at Hermione and a flick of her wand to return the bell to the bedside table.

Resigned, Hermione picked up the book she'd been re-reading and turned to where she had left off. "Talk soon, Remus," she said, belatedly wishing she'd asked Poppy for a quill so she could correct the out-dated book in her hands.

"Mm, yes...tk'soon," Remus mumbled into the pillow as he quickly fell into a deep sleep.

x.x.x.x

Hermione's fingers grasped the edges of the bed tightly, the sheet bunching in her fingers as she fought the urge to yell out. "Ow, ow, ow," she whispered, the mantra reverberating around her head at a much louder volume.

"Now there you go, all done, dear," Poppy said from where she stood at the end of the bed, as she put Hermione's foot back down onto the sheets carefully.

Hermione slowly rolled over onto her back and breathed out a sigh of relief at the thought that soon enough she wouldn't have to go through this any more. Poppy had explained that she'd been having general physiotherapy on her arms and legs since she had been brought to the hospital wing. However as she'd been in an enchanted sleep with pain relieving charms, she hadn't felt it. Now she was improving the sleep spell wasn't necessary... and unfortunately neither was the stronger pain relief.

"I know it hurts, dear, but we have to keep your muscles used to the movement. And soon enough your new nerves will calm down and it won't hurt so much."

Hermione nodded as she tentatively made to sit up. "How long do you think it will be before that is?"

Poppy tilted her head in thought for a moment and then shrugged. "I could make a guess, but it's really nothing certain. Your case isn't exactly routine, so to speak. I wish I could give you something stronger for the pain as well, but that can desensitise new nerves and I don't want to do any damage that could be permanent."

"It's okay, Poppy, I understand," Hermione said with a wsmall sigh. Sat upright now, she gently tensed and stretched her hands and feet, wincing as spasms occasionally jolted through them. Lifting her head, she saw Poppy readying to leave the room again, so spoke up. "Can you move the screens again, please? That is if you're finished with us both for today?"

Poppy nodded her head smiling and whipped out her wand, moving the screens as she had before.

"Thank you, Poppy. It's nice to know I'm not alone in here, if that makes sense. Even if he is asleep all the time."

"I can sympathise, Hermione," was all Poppy said, before leaving the room, the door pulled half shut as normal.

Hermione sat quietly for a few moments, just staring into space as her mind jumped from one topic to another, before landing on the one that seemed in the forefront of her mind right now.

Remus.

Well, obviously, she thought to herself, mentally rolling her eyes. What with him being in the same room as you!

Turning her head to the far side of the room, she watched him as he slept. The slow rise and fall of his chest and the way he frowned slightly as he slept was oddly relaxing and over the last couple of days, since the screens had been moved, she'd often fallen asleep, lulled by the quiet peace and light snores coming from Remus.

After they thought they'd lost him, she'd been devastated, and she knew Harry, Ginny and some of the others had been a little perplexed at her strong reaction. As much as they all missed and loved him, Hermione had felt the loss much more deeply. She'd always felt that there was something more than just friendship between herself and Remus, but Harry and Ginny hadn't known that at the time. None of the others had.

Not that anything had actually happened, Hermione thought to herself, regretfully. But it was more that it could have. That the possibility of something more between us was always there.

Possibility. That was it. There had always been an undertone of something more between them and Hermione was certain he felt and knew of it, too.

Their conversations for example, might have been boring to the outsider, but to her – and hopefully Remus – it was sometimes as if there were two discussions taking place. The one being voiced aloud... and the one in the words left unsaid.

He'd been there for her after Ron, as well. The others had too, of course, but it was different with Remus. When they had talked, it had let her forget what had happened, even if only for a short while. He'd been rather protective of her, too, getting rid of the others when she was stressed out and wanting quiet. Not to mention what he'd said to Ron that time...

Then later, but not later enough for any of them, when things with the war had picked up pace, he'd still been there. A constant for her, in the changing, stressful and often horrifying war they were all right in the middle of. Every Wednesday, when they could, they'd sit in the library together. Most times they just sat just reading their own books in a peaceful quiet and then, on other occasions, when it was all too much, they would talk. About anything and everything that came to mind.

Hermione sighed and rubbed her eyes, feeling tired once again. I hate sleeping all the time, she complained to herself, even as she shuffled further under the covers, feeling like she'd just run a marathon.

She lay on her side, facing Remus and let her mind drift back to the last conversation she'd had with him before he'd left for his mission. The last time she thought she'd seen him alive...

"Take care, Remus," she said, pulling on the sleeve of her jumper a nervous fingers.

"I will, Hermione," Remus replied, a small smile playing upon his lips. It didn't quite meet his eyes, Hermione saw and she knew it was because, regardless of outside appearances, he was frightened, too.

Hermione stepped forward and closed the gap between them in the quiet hallway outside the library. It was late; most everyone was asleep in their own beds or out on assignment for the Order. They'd said their goodbyes to Remus earlier.

Hugging him, Hermione's heart soared when his arms came around her and pulled her to him, tightly. His head came down and she smiled into his worn Muggle coat as she felt his lips on the top of her head.

"See you soon," she said, pulling back yet wishing she didn't have to. She didn't want to let him go.

"Yes, soon," he agreed, his eyes meeting hers as he moved back slowly. Time seemed to pause for a moment as his hand came up to cup her cheek, dropping it as a noise from a second floor bathroom startled them both and broke the illusion that they were the only two living beings on the planet.

x.x.x.x

"Merlin I'm bored," Remus said as he lay back on his bed, staring once more at the ceiling above him. Picking off another grape from the small bunch on the bed by his leg, he chewed and swallowed it quickly. Everything tasted like sand to him still, the silver still running through his veins ruining his taste buds and ultimately his enjoyment of food.

"Me, too," Hermione echoed from the other side of the room. He heard her sigh and throw down the book she'd been flicking through. "Want to look at this again?" she said, pointing to the book now lying on the far end of her bed.

Remus lifted his head – something that was easier to do now his ribs had finally deigned themselves to begin knitting back together somewhat – and curled his lip at the book she was pointing to. "Ugh, no. 'Uses of Moonstone in Healing Potions' is something I can only read once; never mind a fourth time, Hermione."

She laughed and he smiled at her, moving carefully so he was sitting up and leaning against his pillows. Poppy had kindly given him a few more over the last day or two to support him better now that he was awake for longer periods of time. "How about a game?" he suggested.

"Alright. No tag though, I'm a bit rough around the edges for that at the moment," Hermione said as she retied her hair back from her face, her tone light. "Plus I've no doubt that Poppy would kill us if she came in to find us running about in these hospital pyjamas and no shoes."

"Too right she would," Remus agreed. The corners of his mouth curled up in amusement as he imagined the look of horror and irritation on her face if she did. "Now I can't think of what to play though, any ideas? Eye spy seems a bit boring and I can't think of anything else at the moment." He looked over at her as he spoke, watching her battle with the few tendrils of hair that had escaped her attempts at capture.

He gazed at her as she bit her lip and frowned in thought as she battled with one last strand. Over the last few days, since he'd woken up that first time, he'd noticed that she did the lip-biting thing quite frequently and he'd begun to find it a bit... distracting.

"No," she replied, looking up. "It would help if one of us had a wand, that way we could play cards or something, I guess."

Picking up his water cup, Remus took a few sips and as he put it back onto the bedside cabinet, his eyes fell on the bell Poppy had given him once he'd woken up. "We could ask Poppy," he suggested with a shrug, not taking his eyes off the bell. "She said no last time, but at least it'd give us something to do."

"What, irritating Poppy?" Hermione said with an impish grin.

"Or the other one, Anne," Remus replied. "If we keep asking for something to do, they have to give in soon enough, right?"

Hermione snorted and shook her head. "Poppy I'm not so sure on, but Anne might. It'll prove interesting, anyway. I'm going out of my mind – no offence, Remus. Being stuck in a room with you isn't bad, but not being able to get out of this bloody bed is..." she trailed off, looking up at him with a grimace.

Remus tilted his head in acknowledgement and smiled at her. "Maddening? In another situation, Hermione, being stuck in a room with you would be my idea of a good time," he said, flashing her a grin. She blinked at him for a few seconds, and Remus thought maybe he'd pushed a bit too far, but then she turned a bit pink in the cheeks and smiled back at him.

Unwilling to let it get awkward because of his comment, Remus smiled at her again and picked up the bell, ringing it once before dropping it back onto the cabinet top.

"My turn first," he said, finishing just as Poppy entered the room at a brisk pace.

"Well, what's the matter?" she said, hands on her hips, looking at the both of them in turn. Hermione pointed to Remus without a word.

"We're bored, Poppy," Remus answered her with a whine and a slight flutter of his eyelashes.

Poppy rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips. "Well you're in hospital, Remus. You too, Hermione. You're not in here for entertainment; you're here for rest and healing." She sighed and cast a spell on the windows in the room, opening them just a crack and letting a little fresh, warm summer air into the room. Putting her wand back into her apron pocket she brushed her uniform off and gave them both a serious look. "Rest. Heal. Sleep." She left the room with a shake of her head and Remus flopped gently back into his pillows with a sigh.

"Well, then," Hermione said, catching his attention. "My turn in an hour?"

He winked at her and she grinned back. It was on.

x.x.x.x

Hermione took a mouthful of the not-quite-cold water from the mug from her bedside table. She was happy at that – not that it was not-quite-cold, but that she'd progressed well enough that she was onto a mug now instead of a non-spill cup. A cup that looked very much like a Muggle toddler's drink cup would, she'd noticed.

Quietly placing the cup back on the bedside cabinet, she felt around in the dim light coming from the doorway, trying to find her tissue. Just her luck to get hay fever this year.

It was late, after midnight according to Anne who'd been in to check on them about an hour or so ago, and once again Hermione was wide awake. That's the problem with sleeping in hospitals. No one to tell you what the time is and then you're awake in the middle of the night with nothing to do and no one to speak to, she thought glumly, rolling over in bed once again to try and get comfortable enough to doze.

Her eyes were just beginning to droop when she heard it; a small cry, almost a gasp. Sitting up quietly, now wide awake, she looked over towards Remus' bed – not that she could see anything, the light from the doorway was too dim for that.

There it was again.

Definitely Remus, she told herself, wondering what to do. It wasn't like she needed to sleep, so Remus keeping her awake wasn't an issue. She just hated the thought that he was having a nightmare and she couldn't do a thing about it. Plus if he moves or jolts, his ribs aren't going to be very happy and he'll be sore in the morning.

He whimpered this time, louder than before, and Hermione frowned. He was definitely having a nightmare, she was sure.

"Remus?" she said aloud, into the darkness of the room.

No answer came, but Hermione waited. Then another cry, this time louder. She could hear movement from his side of the room, as if he was moving restlessly under the sheets. It was warm in the room, the summer heat from the day lasting all through the night, and Hermione was laid out on top of her covers, unlike Remus who, still suffering the effects of the silver poisoning, was still icy cold a lot of the time.

Sighing, Hermione turned back towards her bedside table and rang the bell once, quickly, hoping that Poppy or Anne would come and cast a dreamless-sleep charm on him. Not as effective as the potion, but better than suffering a nightmare.

Laying there for what seemed like an age, Hermione counted to a hundred in her head. Then did it again. And then a third time.

Still no one came, and Remus was still crying out, mumbled words carrying over to where Hermione lay awake, staring up at the darkened ceiling.

I know they're busy, but couldn't they just come in and check? Hermione wondered to herself. She sat up, scooting down her bed so she was sat at the end, her legs over the edge, toes barely touching the floor. Come on, come on, she resolved within the confines of her mind.

Waiting for another count, this time to three hundred, Hermione looked from the door to Remus' bed and back again. It wasn't that far, surely. It's not like she couldn't walk over to it and back. Right?

Checking the door again, Hermione stood carefully, grasping the bedstead for support as she put her full body weight on the muscles and nerves in her legs. It hurt, spasms firing up her legs towards her stomach like those magical fireworks Fred and George had once made,but when Remus cried out 'No!' she straightened her spine and took her first steps towards his bed.

"Ow, dammit, ow," she said through clenched teeth as she closed the gap between them. A small part of her mind was yelling at her to stop, that it was too far and it hurt too much, but she disregarded it. Remus' comfort was first and foremost in her mind right now.

She reached the end of his bed finally with three quick last steps and carefully sat on the end of it, lifting her feet from the floor in relief.

Poppy was right about my extremities being the last to heal, she thought dimly, tentatively flexing her toes.

Remus shifted and she brought her mind to the task at hand. Carefully moving, and standing once more, she moved up one side of his bed until she could perch on the edge roughly level with his hips. Putting one hand on his shoulder, she was relieved to see him quieten straight away, tense muscles relaxing under her hand.

She smiled and remained there for a few moments, her hand rubbing small circles on his arm and shoulder gently before she realised her own predicament.

Her feet really hurt and they weren't even touching the floor at the moment. I don't think I'll make it back to my bed walking. Crawling perhaps, but not walking. Bugger.

Looking around for another option, Hermione decided it would first be a good idea to get towards the end of Remus' bed and thus closer to her own. Except for that gaping sodding distance called the floor.

She shuffled, slowly and carefully, constantly checking Remus for any signs that she'd disturbed him, until she was sat on the bottom half of the bed, looking with some amusement at the fact that Remus was asleep curled up. He must sleep in a ball when his ribs aren't broken.

Assessing her situation, Hermione could only think of crawling as an option... and it didn't appeal. Her knees might not hurt at the moment, unlike her poor feet, but they would after traversing the hard stone floor.

Damn. Should have thought this one out a little more, Hermione. Looking around, Hermione realised that until Poppy or Anne came in to check on her, or she braved the floor again before that, she was stuck on the end of Remus' bed.

At least he sleeps curled up, leaves me some room, she thought to herself as she carefully moved her legs onto the bed. Curling up as small as she could, she carefully lay down on the end of the bed, glad that the heat of the room negated the need for a blanket.

She'd just have to wait it out.

x.x.x.x

Continued (and concluded) in part two. It will be up as soon as I have time to sort out the formatting/coding. Please review and let me know what you think, it encourages the muse to let me write more! :)