Abundant Skies
Disclaimer: don't own the characters, just the plot.
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Thank you for the reviews! Quite most of you said it was about time, and that you were glad she finally confessed.. I agree. But you guys thought Harry was going to confess first, didn't you? Well.. We'll just see what happens, because I don't really have a clue, either. After this, or tomorrow's update, It might be a long time before I update again; it all depends on how long my parents ground me from the computer for my `horrible' grades.. It's only for Algebra, and you'd think they'd cut me some slack since I have to move up one grade for math, on which, I have no idea why and how. But, wish me the best of luck it's only going to be for a week, or, for those who can, pray that I'll be able to update again within one week.. I'd really appreciate it.
So, I hope you enjoy.. And wish me the best of luck/pray that I won't be grounded for too long!
And, I'm sorry if I got any names, or anything else wrong here.. Fred is with Angelina, right? Anyway, if it's supposed to be George, then I am sorry. I'm not all that accurate on that stuff..
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Chapter Fourteen: Horror
Harry went to dinner, still absolutely shocked and stunned.. She loved him.. She loved him.. No matter how many times it rang in his mind, he still couldn't believe it. But he felt some sort of restless, rising, warm feeling in his stomach that made him grin unusually; like a madman.
She loved him. A lot.
He didn't think that he'd ever hear her say those words to him, besides the `friendly' way, because they really did love each other, he was sure, in that way. But he was still finding it hard to believe, although he was also ridiculously glad and happy that she did love him, and from the choice of words she used, a whole heck of a lot. Maybe as much as he loved her, he considered. But then it dawned on him that she was still angry with him, and was obviously not going to talk to him. That sort of dampened his spirits. If she wasn't going to listen, how was he going to tell her that he loved her too? How could he reach through her sheer determination to believe that it was all some spur of the moment mistake, and make her understand he meant that kiss more than anything in the world?
How could he possibly tell her that he loved her, and make sure she wasn't going to find a way that he didn't mean it? He was still figuring that part out.
At dinner, he played with his food, sliding it from side to side, trying to come up with some sort of plan, while Ron and Dean talked animatedly about their new tactics for Quidditch. He stayed silent, trying to concentrate, until Ron elbowed him in the rib, and made him look up, scowling.
"What's the matter with you?"
"Apparently, someone elbowed me in the rib," Harry said, angrily.
Ron raised an eyebrow at him. "No, I mean that I've been calling your name about ten times to tell us what new strategies you've come up for Quidditch. You have got some new ones, don't you?"
"No."
Ron cast a look at Dean, before he leaned in closer, so that only Harry could hear him. "What's wrong, Harry? You daydreaming a little bit too much, don't you think?"
Harry glared at him. "I'm not daydreaming, Ron. I'm just thinking, that's all."
"Thinking? What about?"
"Nothing."
"You seem to be thinking pretty hard for it to be about nothing." Harry sighed, as he looked down on his plate.
"It's Hermione," he said lowly.
Ron clicked his tongue, as he poured himself some pumpkin juice. "Yeah, something peculiar's up with her. But I mean, who wouldn't be, with you kissing her and all, and getting caught."
Harry scowled at him. "Well, gee. Thanks."
Ron grinned widely. "Harry, you know I'm just kidding. But did you try talking to her? Apologize, maybe?"
"I did try talking to her.. She still didn't want to listen. You know she hasn't been the same, since last week." Harry decided he wasn't even going to say anything about the `apologize, maybe?' comment.
"Well.. She's avoiding you for so long too many times, I don't even notice when she's stopped and started again."
Harry gave him a look, and Ron laughed lightly. "Alright, sorry. I got to learn how to stop making jokes about you and Hermione.."
Harry stayed quiet, just looking down on his plate. "She never sits with us anymore, if she even comes down for meals.. She avoids me, she doesn't even want to look at me, if she can even bear to," he sighed. "It's hard to believe she loves me. But then again, I never did try hard enough when I asked her what was on her mind. If I hadn't been so blind, then maybe I would've seen it, or gotten suspicious. But no, I was too worried about myself."
Ron raised an eyebrow at him. "So she told you?" Harry looked at him.
"You mean to tell me that you knew?" Ron shrugged.
"I've had my suspicions, you know. I mean, I noticed you two seemed to always spend time together in the common room, the way she always looked at you, and then looks away when you look up."
"Why didn't you tell me?" Harry asked him, angry.
"It was never a sure thing!" Ron exclaimed. "I mean, I always thought you liked Hermione, because, like what I noticed from her, you looked at her like.." Ron made a face. "Like when Fred looks at Angelina when she comes over to the house in the summer."
"You still could've told me!" Harry cried. "Great. So it seems even you and probably everyone else sees the way I look at her, and the way she looks at me.. How come I've never noticed? How come I've never seen the way she looks at me?"
"Well, for one thing," Ron said, "she always looks away when you look up, I told you that. And another thing," Ron's features softened.
"Well, I guess you were so in love with her you didn't see that she was in love with you too. Maybe you thought it could never happen, that it wasn't possible.. But I think it's the same with Hermione. She doesn't believe that you could actually fall in love with her, let alone love her. She doesn't want to get her hopes up," Ron said.
Harry sighed, as he ran a hand through his messy, untamed hair. "I guess you're right."
"I may be a dimwit at some things, Harry," Ron said. "But even the daftest person knows a thing or two about love."
Harry smiled at Ron, faintly, then looked down at his plate. He stood up.
"I'm going to see if I can still catch her," he said, before grinning at Ron.
"Thanks," he said to him, before running out of the Great Hall. Ron smiled to himself, as he folded his arms over his chest. He cast a look at Lavender, who was smiling at him; so she had been watching all along.
He grinned at her, and mouthed `I told you so.' Lavender, unable to fake a defeated look on her face, just laughed lightly, as she smiled widely at him.
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Harry ran down the corridor, and up the stairs for the Gryffindor dormitories. He panted hard, as the Fat Lady asked for the password.
"Mad Manticore," Harry said, breathlessly.
"Excuse me?" The Fat Lady asked.
"Mad Manticore," Harry said louder, and the Fat Lady smiled, pleased, as the portrait entrance swung open. Harry walked into the common room, and looked around; she wasn't there. Suddenly, he saw something on the floor; like a big, large heap. Something flashed in his mind, as he bolted to the end of the stairs, where it was.
He forgot about how fast he had been running, or the fact that his lungs were still desperate for air. He had forgotten about breathing at all. His heart pounded in his chest loudly, his blood rushing in his ears.
"Oh my.." He quickly kneeled down, and held her. He cried out, feeling panic and worry, and shock, penetrate through his body. He held Hermione in his arms, her eyes closed, a deep cut on her forehead, above her eye. A stream of blood trickled down from her wound, as Harry felt his hands trembling, wrapped around her small, slender body. He held her tightly, his throat feeling as if it had closed up, his chest compressed with such a strong, and tight bind that prevented him from breathing right.
"Hermione?" He said. "Hermione? Hermione? Please.." She didn't answer, as she just lay limp in his arms. He looked at the stairs, and saw about five different books scattered on the steps. He inhaled sharply, as he looked at her, and checked for a pulse. It was weak, and he could feel his heart throbbing, hammering. He quickly picked her up in his arms, feeling limp and light. He ran out of the common room, and down the hall as fast as he could, even pushing himself to go faster, when he realized she could die if he didn't get her to Madame Pomphrey soon. His footsteps were rapid and echoed through the halls, his breathing hard, his lungs and stomach aching.
He bolted into the Great Hall, causing everyone to look at him. Everyone stared in horror at who was in his arms.
"Help! I need help!" He yelled loudly, panic causing his voice to echo and a sudden deafly silence plagued the room, as he felt everyone's eyes on him.. And the unconscious Hermione in his arms. Professor Dumbledore stood up abruptly, as did the other Professors, as Madame Pomphrey rushed over to him.
"Come along Mr. Potter," she said, panic in her voice, her gaze roaming Hermione in a flickering and anxious, worried manner. Harry rushed outside, as he struggled to keep up with Madame Pomphrey. Though a petite and small woman, she walked pretty fast.
She raised her gaze to him. "Mr. Potter, I could perform a spell so that you wouldn't have to-"
"No, I want to hold her," he interrupted. He felt his grip tighten on Hermione. Madame Pomphrey sighed, as her strides became faster.
"Well, alright then, hurry up."
Suddenly Harry heard a shout from behind him. Soon Ron was at his side, panic, shock, and horror etched across his face.
"What happened? How-Hermione-what-"
"I'll tell you later," Harry said hurriedly, advancing into a jog. "I've got to get her to the Hospital Wing." Ron nodded, as he followed after him.
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Harry and Ron watched anxiously as Madame Pomphrey worked on Hermione, setting out different colored bottles; blue ones, clear ones, ancient looking ones. Harry could barely keep still, his lungs still feeling as if they were about to burst. Finally, after long minutes that seemed to be forever, Madame Pomphrey sighed, as she poured some blue looking liquid into her mouth, then massaged Hermione's throat to make her swallow. She pulled back, and capped the bottle. She looked at Hermione, then back at Harry and Ron.
"She'll be fine, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley," she said. Two loud sighs of relief suddenly filled the room. "She's just unconscious, for now."
"How long will it be before she wakes up?" Harry asked.
"One day, at most," she said. "She had a pretty bad wound on her head, as small as it seems," she motioned over to Hermione. "My guess is, from Mr. Potter's explanation of where he found her, that she fell down the stairs, hitting her head brutally."
Harry pursed his lips together, as he nodded. He cast a look over at Hermione, before looking back at Madame Pomphrey.
"Thank you," he said. She nodded, as she picked up the bottles she had taken out.
"It was no problem Mr. Potter," she said. "It's my job. But please do tell Ms. Granger to be more careful going down the stairs. And, since tomorrow is the weekend, and you have no classes.. I'll allow you to stay here until she wakes up. But don't cause any trouble or I'll have to throw you out."
Ron smiled faintly. "Alright then," he said, as she walked back into her office.
Harry got a seat and dragged it over to Hermione's bedside, as Ron did the same. Harry sighed, watching her. Most of the fear and panic he had been feeling earlier had faded, replaced with relief, but he still felt a nagging, twisting feeling in his gut that seemed to be cutting in deeper every second that passed by. Harry held Hermione's hand, which felt warm, but it felt lifeless, limp. Even a little cold, compared to his hands, which seemed to be burning with heat.
"So that's where you found her, really?" Ron asked. "The end of the stairs?"
"Yeah," Harry said. "Her books were scattered all over the steps, so she probably fell, like what Madame Pomphrey said." Ron nodded, silent.
"It was good you came, to get her to the Hospital Wing in time," he said.
Harry shook his head, his eyes sad and full of regret.
"I didn't come in time. I didn't come soon enough. I could've stopped her from falling. I could've just come to talk to her, instead of coming down to dinner."
"You didn't know."
"I should've!" Harry cried angrily.
"You can't have, Harry," Ron insisted. "Stop blaming yourself. It was nobody's fault. She's going to be fine, you heard Madame Pomphrey."
Harry sighed, as he dug his head in his hands. "I was going to tell her. I was going to make her listen."
"You can tell her when she wakes up."
"She won't listen," Harry said, frustrated. "She'll find some way to say that I was just saying it because I feel that I'm obligated to, or that I didn't mean it."
"How do you know? You haven't told her yet." Harry stayed silent, as he looked back up at Hermione. It felt weird, looking at her, unconscious and when she wasn't.. When she didn't have a clue what was going on. But she still managed to look beautiful, in his eyes. She didn't even have to try.
"Are you going to head up later?" Ron asked. Harry shook his head.
"No, I'm going to stay." Ron nodded.
"Do you want me to come and bring you up breakfast?"
"I don't think I'll be hungry," Harry said. "But bring some for Hermione."
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After a few hours, Harry noticed Ron was getting weary of watching her, his head drooping and then abruptly bolting back up.
"Ron, you can head up and get some sleep," Harry told him.
"No, I can stay. I'm not sleepy." Harry grinned at him, faintly.
"Go. Don't make me make you." Ron yawned, as he stood up.
"Are you sure? What about you?"
"I'm sure," Harry said. "And don't worry about me. I'll be fine." Ron nodded lazily, then started towards the door.
"Night Harry, I'll come back in the morning."
"Night Ron," Harry said, before he heard the door open and close. Silence filled the room, as the darkness shaded Hermione's still face. His hand tightened around hers, as he watched her. His mind was empty, but was full of thoughts about the pretty girl he was watching.
"Goodnight, Hermione," he whispered. He smiled faintly, as he heard light drops of rain tapping against the window. He placed his other hand over hers.
"I love you, too."