Harry stared at her, then slowly nodded and bent his head, bent his neck, and gently kissed her, a slow, long kiss of desire and more, of love, and then he nodded.

"I can do that. I can try." His hands stroked over her hair and her neck and gently sent more healing energy into her as he spoke her name. "Justine," turning her name, itself into a spell.

He felt bruised, and tired, and hurt, but a small part of him wanted that hope she offered, and he shivered, the hurt of it aching all through him, before he reached down and lifted her in strong arms.

"Lets get you cleaned up."