The Real Hero, Part 2
The portkey trip to St. Mungo's was quick and as normal as Harry had come to expect, but the corridor they arrived in was completely deserted except for them.
The silence was broken only by their footsteps echoing hollowly from the wooden floor. A few portraits of some unknown healers watched in interest as the group passed, but none spoke. Something about the portraits' unwavering attention made Harry slightly uneasy. Nothing about this corridor was even remotely familiar to him.
"Molly won't be happy about you two being here." Said Lupin in a resigned voice. Harry could just imagine the tongue-lashing Lupin was probably going to receive from the Weasley matriarch.
"I'm almost of age. She needs to let go-." Ron responded as Harry continued to glance around at their surroundings. This was a completely different part of St. Mungo's that he hadn't seen.
"Where are we?" Harry asked Lupin.
"This is the sixth floor."
"Sixth floor? Hang on, there's only five floors." Ron stopped in his tracks and looked askance at the older man. Harry also turned to hear Lupin's explanation.
"Well, yes and no, Ron. The Sixth floor is a completely warded and protected area, unknown to most of the wizarding world. After Voldemort disappeared 14 years ago this floor was closed." A door opened several feet down the corridor and Mad-eye Moody appeared followed by Mr Weasley and Tonks.
"Here all research into understanding and reversing the Dark curses was done in secret. Also, those under Fidelius protection would be treated here in secret. The best Healers that the wizarding world had all worked here in those dark times." Growled Mad-Eye as he joined them. Ron paled slightly as he saw his father. "Harry, how are you?" Mr Weasley asked him as he placed a reassuring hand on Ron's shoulder.
"Fine!" Harry responded shortly.
"We should go. The portkey is set to return us in a half hour." With that statement, Lupin headed down the corridor with Harry, Ron and Mr Weasley following him. Mad-Eye and Tonks went in the opposite direction. Obviously, they were going to be standing guard as Mad-eye's lecture to Tonks on vigilance echoed back to the others as they walked away.
The activity of the corridor increased as they turned the corner. A few healers scurried back and forth between the rooms and the portraits whispered encouragement to lighten the depressing ambiance of the dimly lit corridor. Silently, Harry started to imagine what he could say to Hermione but his mind was blank. He didn't know. He simply didn't know what it was to fear for the life of one's parents. A lump rose in his throat as he became painfully aware that he didn't know how to help Hermione in this situation.
It had never been like this before. Finally, they stopped in front of stout oak door with a tarnished brass number plate that read Ward 9.
"I'll wait out here for you." Lupin told him as Mr. Weasley pulled Ron aside for a private word. Harry could see Ron's reluctance as the two walked a bit further to be out of earshot. Ron was obviously questioning the timing, but Mr. Weasley was clearly insistent.
Harry turned to the door and pushed it open quietly, still stewing mentally about what was going on with Ron. It distracted him momentarily from his terror over not knowing what to say to Hermione.
The room was slightly brighter than the outer corridor than he had expected. Hermione sitting upright in a bed about halfway down the ward. Her face was turned away from the door toward the windows, which reflected a pastoral view of countryside instead of the London cityscape where they actually were presently. She didn't turn around as Harry closed the door.
"Hey!" His voice sounded strangely soft to his own ears, but was still loud enough to get her attention. Her head whipped about as she gazed at her friend, desolation in her deep brown eyes. She seemed to struggle slightly before a slight smile appeared on her face.
"Harry!" Her voice was hoarse and scratchy, as if she had been using it too much. Harry went to her side. It was in her face and her eyes that it wasn't an easy situation. As long as he had known her she hadn't ever looked this way before.
He didn't know if it was the curse or simply concern about her parents. But finally gaining control over his voice, he stuttered out, "I'm - I'm sorry -"
She interrupted him by grabbing his hand and holding it tightly, almost to the point of pain. "Thank you…thank you so much." To his amazement, there was so much depth of emotion in her voice, but he didn't understand why she would thank him.
He hadn't done anything. "What…Why?"
For the first time she looked straight into his eyes. "Because of you my parents are still alive." she whispered.
"No, not because of me. You - " he tried to interrupt
"I did not," Hermione told him sharply," I - I wasn't able to fight them. I'm so stupid." Her chest was heaving under her gasping breathing as she leaned back against the pillow, her meager strength exhausted.
"Hermione, you aren't stupid. Remember Dumbledore's army? That was your idea. You're such a brilliant witch -" Harry couldn't understand why his confident friend was saying this about herself. He couldn't let her believe -
"I'm a brilliant know-it-all who wasn't able to protect her own family." She said bitterly.
"Hermione, they were adult wizards, those Death Eaters. You did everything you should have. I know, I've fought beside you. I doubt anyone else could've done more…" he trailed off, confused. Harry couldn't believe he was having this conversation with Hermione.
"Of course, you would have done better than me, Harry. You don't lose your head when you're attacked. It was Crookshanks who saved me. If he hadn't attacked the Deatheater during the spell… I hadn't gotten to you for help-" Hermione respond dispiritedly.
"You know, you're right. You are certainly being stupid right now! Stupid to blame yourself for something you didn't do. There were two Deatheaters and you were alone with your parents in the line of fire. It's amazing that you survived at all. Don't seek out blame and guilt, Hermione, because it's not your fault that there are people like that in the world. Please, Hermione, I know you're smarter than that." Intently he watched her, willing her to understand, but all she did was to look back toward the windows.
A commotion at the door drew Harry's gaze from his friend's face to see his other best friend storm into the ward, his face and ears a blazing red that almost matched his hair color.
Harry sighed internally as Ron came toward them. This didn't bode well.
Authornote: I would like to thank my co-writer perivayne. Well, I should now start to work at chapter 5, don't I?