"Is she okay?"  Hermione asked.  Harry stood in the doorway of her flat and stared at her and Hermione waved a hand impatiently.  "I mean, considering."  If Harry had felt compelled to come see her right after being at Parkinson's, her mind jumped to her worst fears.  Was this strain of infection ripping the other woman to shreds even more quickly than it had her?  Was she unable to even get up?  Was she dying?  Already?