Forever Knight [Harmione]

Chapter 7: Nightfall

Harry and Ron arrived at St. Mungo’s Special Injuries Unit laden with presents.  There were more people walking in the halls and there was actually an active nurse’s station.   

Harry could feel eyes upon him as he passed personnel and he hitched his load a little higher, positioning the flowers and inflating the balloons so that they covered his face partially.  He didn’t know if Ron had noticed; probably not.  His lanky best friend had a distant look in his eyes, as if he hadn’t quite recovered from his nap that afternoon. 

They sat in the waiting area to rest for a bit. 

“D’you reckon she’s already awake?” Ron asked. 

Harry nodded.  It was dark outside by the time they had left the house.  He had read that vampires only slept way past nightfall when they needed to recover from exhaustion or injury.  Other than that, they rose immediately after the sun had completely disappeared behind the horizon, as if the sleeping spell the sun cast on them was temporarily lifted.  The spell would fall once more upon the rising of the sun.  Ancient vampires, and the occasional three hundred year old, were capable of resisting the lulling solar light, so long as they stayed well beyond its rays, but they still needed sleep, if only for a few hours before nightfall came again. 

Hermione should be awake, and Cicero should be awake as well. 

Harry was just about to set the presents aside to look for Healer Kearney when the healer emerged from behind the double doors to meet them. 

Healer Kearney smiled.  “Just as I expected.  You’ve come to speak to Mr. Iswold?”

Harry had an urge to ask if Hermione was permitted to see them but knew it would be futile.  He merely nodded in response to the kindly healer’s inquiries. 

“Very well.  Wait here.”  Healer Kearney left through the same double doors. 

Harry settled back in his seat and saw Ron pull something from a parcel he carried.  He gave it pensive inspection. 

“That a book for Hermione?” Harry asked. 

Ron’s cheeks turned a bit pink.  “She might like it. It’s a history book, after all.”  He held it up and the cover said Four Founders. 

Harry could see Hermione appreciating it.  It was a relatively thick tome; the sort that Hermione liked to curl up with in one of the big, soft chairs by the common room fire.  And while she might not have time to read the book while she was recovering, she would love the book, anyway.

Several minutes later, Cicero emerged from the sealed anteroom.  He looked as pristine as ever, though he wore the same suit they last saw him in.  If he had slept, it did not show.  Nothing about him was rumpled or disheveled.  It was as if he had slept standing up.  He was, however, slightly more pale than vampires are wont to be.

He hasn’t fed, thought Harry.  He eyed the small man for a moment before deciding that other than Cicero’s lack of color, the vampire looked perfectly composed.  At least he doesn’t look like he’s going to rip into us…

Cicero smiled, fangs hidden behind his lips.  “Good evening Mr. Potter; Mr. Weasley. I am glad to know that Ms. Granger has such good friends looking out for her.”

On any other day, Harry could do small talk, but not tonight.  “Please, Mr. Iswold.  How is she?”

Cicero gave them a wan grin.  “A tad lonely, Mr. Potter. First thing she asked when she woke was whether she would be allowed to see you and Mr. Weasley, but I told her I cannot let her see you.”

Harry knew that would be the case, but he was disappointed to hear it, anyway. 

“We’ve brought her some presents,” said Ron.  “Can you pass them on to her?”