Miranda Granger never imagined that a magic hospital would be such a madhouse. Saint Mungo's was nearly as bad as King's Cross on a busy Saturday afternoon. Of course, the state of the front lobby meant little and less to Miranda. She cared only about seeing her daughter.

Jake was standing at her left side, his arm around her shoulders, while her mother was on her right. Berti was looking around a fair bit more than Jake or Miranda, but even still she was most intent upon the tall, gangly man speaking with a lobby nurse. They were staying close together, because Remus bade them too, but it was a good idea to avoid getting separated in the rabble of the witch and wizard hospital.

They'd been having a quiet evening, nothing extraordinary beyond their new normal of isolation. While they were sitting around in their hide-away home having tea Remus Lupin had come charging through the fireplace saying that it was over, Voldemort was dead.

And then they'd been told about the attack on Hogwarts, and that their daughter had been taken to Saint Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, where she was now listed in critical condition. The entire family abandoned their tea and demanded to be taken to this Saint Mungo's at once. Remus complied without a moment's hesitation.

When they flooed into the bustling hospital (the Grangers were growing almost accustomed to traveling by fire), they were thrust into a scene of chaos. People were everywhere. It made Miranda feel the fingers of panic tighten around her heart. How horrid had the attack on the school been to cause so many to be at the hospital? How badly had her Hermione been hurt?

"Stay here. I'll go find out where your daughter is, and don't tell anyone who you are," Remus had said to them before hurrying off to chase down a nurse. The order not to reveal their identities had seemed peculiar, but at the same time completely unnecessary. Neither Jake, Miranda, nor Berti were in the mood to chat up strangers. They were waiting anxiously to be taken to Hermione.

Eventually, the nurse talking to Remus looked to the Grangers with a wide-eyed expression, and she gave a vigorous nod. Remus waved them over and Jake made a path with his elbows through the crowd with his wife and mother-in-law close on his heels.

Remus didn't say a word to them in the lobby, instead ushered them into the hallway. There the cacophony of sound was greatly reduced, as the crowd was mostly held at bay at the lobby doors. Miranda gripped Jake's arm.

"Your daughter's this way," Remus said as he led them down the corridor. "Sorry about the circus out there; the press is getting rabid. If they found out you were Hermione's family, I'm afraid they might have swarmed you. Might be the hospital will have to call in Aurors soon to keep them in line."

After their yuletide introduction to the darker side of the magical world, Miranda knew what Aurors were. Magic bobbies.

She also knew why their status as the immediate family members of Hermione Granger would cause an uproar. While prepping the fireplace for transport to Saint Mungo's, Remus had told them that Hermione had been instrumental in the battle that had been waged on Hogwarts school grounds… instrumental, while Harry had been the one to ultimately kill the enemy.

Miranda could scarcely believe it. Gentle, kind Harry a killer. But if he was the reason Hermione was wounded instead of dead she would rejoice in his accomplishment, even as she grieved that her dear Harry had been forced to take a life. Even one such as Voldemort's.

Remus suddenly stopped and turned to them. "Here we are, but first, before you go in there, there's something you need to know."

"We want to see our little girl," Jake said curtly. He got along well enough with Remus Lupin, but Miranda was of a mind with her husband. She just wanted to see Hermione.

"I know… I won't keep you long. One question… do you know what an animagus is?"

Miranda had never heard the word before, and quite honestly didn't give a bloody damn about 'animaguses'. Jake shook his head with dangerously thinning tolerance. Berti didn't feel it necessary that she even comment, as she had only discovered a matter of days ago that such a thing as magic existed.

"Well," Remus went on hurriedly, "an animagus is a witch or wizard who has the ability to turn into an animal."

"Fascinating, but what's that have to do with us going in to be with our daughter?" Jake asked impatiently.

"Hermione and Harry are both animagi," Remus answered bluntly, realizing the Grangers were in no mood to mince words.

Miranda gaped. "You… you mean our Hermione's… she's an animal?"

"Not now, they turned her back to treat her, but I want to warn you because Harry is still in his animal form. He has been ever since the attack. He won't change back, we're not sure why, but I didn't want you to be alarmed when you went in there and found a panther at your daughter's bedside. It's just Harry, so there's no reason to be afraid."

Miranda looked up in astonishment at Jake. Jake was stony-faced as he took in the information. "Duly noted… now please, sir, stand aside."

Remus did so without another moment's hesitation and Jake opened the door.

When Miranda came in after her husband she privately had to thank Remus Lupin for his forewarning. For there was, just as he said, a large black panther lying on the floor in front of the hospital bed. Had she not been told to expect it, she may have panicked to see a seeming wild animal alone with her injured daughter.

The panther brought up his head at once when they entered, and for a second Miranda stared into its blue eyes. They were Harry's, she saw that in a moment. She didn't even need the white lightning-bolt shaped scar over his right eye for her to identify him as her daughter's boyfriend. The eyes were Harry's as they met hers across the room. When she understood that, she was incapable of being afraid of the animal.

Miranda looked up at the bed, took in the sight of her daughter, and her heart burned and made her entire body ache. She felt pain as she never had before in her life. Hermione was lying motionless on her stomach, her back an enormous bandage.

She rushed to her daughter's bedside, so consumed with reaching her girl that she didn't even notice the panther get up and quickly move out of the way.

Miranda touched Hermione's hair. "Sweetie… can you hear me? It's Mum. We're here. Dad and Gram are here with you, honey."

Jake came up alongside Miranda and squeezed her shoulder.

"Oh, Jake… she's so pale."

Jake covered his mouth with his free hand, as though to hold back a sob. He obviously didn't trust himself to speak to his wife's observations.

Berti rounded the bed to stand at Hermione's other side. She eyed the monitoring charms over the head of the bed and grunted.

"Hermione…" Miranda whispered and took her daughter's limp hand.

Berti had tears brimming in her eyes, but she ignored them as she leaned closer to Hermione and said, "Now you listen to your grandmother, young lady. You're to get well, understand? I won't take any lip, you just do as I say… all right?"

"Mister and Missus Granger?" a male voice called from the door.

Everyone turned to see a fat wizard with frizzy white hair enter the room. "I'm Doctor Manmalis, I've been overseeing your daughter's treatment."

"How is she?" Jake asked.

Manmalis looked once to the panther in the room, then came in farther. "It's still too early to say. She was brought in with very extensive curse injuries. I understand you're both muggles?"

Jake and Miranda nodded, Miranda never once letting go of Hermione's hand.

"Well, it's a little difficult to explain if you aren't imbued with magic, but, in essence, the curse that was used against your daughter attacked her body and her magic. In a witch or wizard, the two are intricately interconnected. An affliction that affects only a witch or wizard's magic but leaves their body untouched can be just as crippling to them as a muggle disease like cancer is to nonmagical folk. Magic is an essential part of your daughter's natural defense mechanisms, and when she was wounded by the particular curse that she was struck with, her ability to protect herself was dealt a massive blow.

"Hermione was hit with what we in the healing profession term a two-tiered necrotizing curse. Well, I'll spare you the technical details; I don't want to overly alarm you…"

"Please, uh, we're doctors," Jake said in a carefully controlled voice, "just… tell us what you know about what's happened to our daughter."

"Very well… these two-tiered necrotizing curses are so named for they are two-fold in that they eat away at the body, but they also consume the magical core of a witch or wizard. Either one alone can be fatal."

"Is she going to die?" Miranda asked thinly.

Manmalis pursed his lips. "I can't make any promises, but there are several factors working in her favor. First, she was brought in soon after she was cursed, so we were able to halt the toxic effects of the curse. Second, she's made it through the first twenty-four hours, which is often seen as a hurdle in recoveries such as these. We would hope to see some more improvement, but neither has her condition worsened.

"In my professional opinion, the greatest reason to hope for a full recovery is that these curses find damage to the body easier to inflict than damage to the magic. Magic is a burly thing, doesn't like to be attacked, and it fights like the devil. Considering how quickly Hermione was brought in, the most damage she suffered was physical. That we can heal, with time, but if her magic had been irrevocably damaged her chances of survival would have been low, and even then it would be only to live the rest of her life as a squib."

To Miranda's puzzled look, the doctor clarified, "Unable to perform magic."

Miranda fought to keep her breathing even. Of course she would trade Hermione's magic for her life any day, but she also knew she couldn't properly understand what losing magic would be like. Miranda lived her entire life without doing a single bit of magic; it was impossible for her to fully comprehend how that might be an unfulfilling way to live. But she knew Hermione loved the world of magic, defined herself as a witch before all else. She could understand that Hermione would be devastated to lose the ability to do magic.

Even still, Miranda would think it a fair trade to have her girl live.

"Will Hermione be a squid?" Jake asked, knowing the same things that Miranda did about the importance of magic to their daughter.

"Squib. And no. On that, I can offer you complete reassurance. We've been watching her magical signature closely, and I have to say that your daughter is one of the most powerful muggle-borns we've ever encountered here at Saint Mungo's. Magic is not entirely hereditary, but there is a genetic component, such that muggle-born witches and wizards are often not as powerful as their pureblood or half-blood counterparts. I won't go into the magic eugenics hogwash the likes of Voldemort and his followers preach, because there are many pureblood witches who couldn't stand a chance against your daughter, but medically speaking there is an inherited component.

"But in Hermione's case, her strong magical core made it more resilient to the curse's attack." Manmalis smirked. "In a way, I suppose you could very accurately liken it to the literal events that unfolded… a human going toe to toe with a lioness."

"Lioness… that's the animal our daughter can turn into?" Miranda asked, still grappling with that new discovery about Hermione.

Manmalis nodded. "She was wounded when she was in her lioness form.

"But as I said, the bulk of the damage done to your daughter was physical. If we can heal her body, her magic should do the rest and there's no reason to think she won't make a full recovery."

Miranda tucked a strand of Hermione's hair back behind her ear and gazed down painfully and lovingly at her daughter's face, in profile as her head was turned to the side on the pillow.

"Allow me to make you all more comfortable," Manmalis said, and he produced his wand with practiced ease. He withdrew from his inside robe pockets some squares of taffy that he dropped on the floor. With a wave of his wand, they were transfigured into chairs.

"If you should need anything, just pop out into the hall and flag down a nurse," the healer said kindly then he turned to leave.

"Thank you," Jake said, then left Miranda's side to bring his wife one of the chairs. Miranda scooted it over next to the head of Hermione's bed and she sat down, her hand never letting go of Hermione's the entire time.

Jake took a chair to Berti on the other side of the bed, then he claimed the last one for himself near the foot of Hermione's bed. He brought a hand to rest on Hermione's sheet-covered legs for the sake of contact. Then the vigil began.

Miranda stared intently at Hermione's face. She looked so still, so unhealthily and painfully ashen. There was a bruise on her cheek, so where her skin wasn't chalky it was purple. She smelled unwell and coppery, like blood. Miranda couldn't bear to think why. Her hair was a fright… it needed a good brushing. Miranda reached forward with her hand that wasn't holding Hermione's and began to brush at Hermione's hair with her fingers. It became a hypnotic action. She fell into a rhythm, and it was a task where she had some effect. She couldn't make Hermione better, though she so desperately wanted to. She wanted to have some maternal, magical ability to heal Hermione, take her pain for herself, but she didn't have that power. She could do nothing to heal her child, but her daughter's hair she could fix.

When Miranda was finished, Hermione's hair at least was in some semblance of order. It could do with a wash, and still a brush would be beneficial, but Hermione looked a bit more like herself with the tangles and knots picked apart. Miranda only wished she could do something about her daughter's back and face.

Miranda sat back and started when she saw the panther sitting right next to her chair. She had not even heard him approach her. Miranda blinked down at the panther with Harry's eyes. She met them steadily, saw beyond the cat façade to the anguished, aching young man he was inside. She looked through Knight and saw Harry.

Knight seemed to know it, or maybe Miranda only believed that he did. Either way, the panther broke eye contact with her and laid his head on Miranda's lap.

Miranda let her hand come to rest on Knight's head. Jake glanced over at them then back at Hermione's still form. Berti worried the edge of Hermione's bed sheet absently.

Hermione had so many people who needed her to live, if only she could know it and let it fortify her to fight for her life.