Unofficial Portkey Archive

Author's Note: These stories are all one-shot, 1000-word responses to the Summer Writing Series Challenge, so each one is not related to the next.

Summer Writing Series Challenge (July 6)
Challenge: Sequel Week: Hermione/Harry ends up in St. Mungo's and the other comforts them.
Title: Clubbed (Sequel to Ice Scream)
Word Count: 1,000

"Hermione!" Ron shouted, dashing across the crowded lobby of St. Mungo's. "Where is he? Is he ok? What happened??"

Hermione covered her mouth as she looked to the floor. After a pregnant pause she quietly said, "He's going to be alright."

Ron looked at her expectantly, trying to read her expression. She seemed to be trying to hold back her emotions.

"Can we see him??"

She nodded, still avoiding his eyes. "He's this way. I'd rather him tell you what happened."

Hermione led the way to Harry's room, with Ron right at heel. They passed through two large double-doors and down a long hallway.

"He's on the ground floor? But that's…"

"Artifact Accidents," she finished. "They didn't know where else to put him."

Ron's face contorted into an even more worried look.

They reached Harry's room and Hermione stopped, motioning for Ron to go in first. He raised his eyebrows at her with concern, and she looked away, covering her mouth again, her shoulders moving up and down slightly.

Ron went into the room and gasped. "Harry!" He rushed to his friend's side and sat in the chair by the bed. "What happened, mate? You look terrible!"

Harry's hair stood out in all directions, much more than was usual. There were bruises on his face and arms, he had a large knot above his left eye, his glasses were missing, his bottom lip was swollen, and his right arm was in a sling.

"You mean she didn't tell you?" Harry asked, his huge lip interfering slightly with his speech.

"No. She's outside…crying, I think."

"No I'm not."

Ron glanced back and saw Hermione standing behind him, her lips pursed and her eyes full of what seemed to be amusement.

Ron was confused. "What's going on?"

Neither answered him.

"Would someone please tell me what happened??" Ron asked again, becoming more agitated than worried.

Harry and Hermione looked at each other, him glaring and her straining not to smile. Finally Hermione broke the news.

"He was attacked."

"Attacked?! By who?"

At this, Hermione couldn't contain herself anymore and burst out laughing. Harry's eyes squinted even more.

"What?!" Ron nearly screamed in frustration.

Hermione just kept laughing, holding her stomach and wiping away tears.

"You're going to make me say it, aren't you?" Harry asked.

She nodded, still in hysterics.

He sighed deeply and turned his eyes to Ron. "I was attacked," he started, "by twenty-something screaming girls who wanted my autograph, my shirt, and apparently one of my socks." He pointed to the end of the bed where a naked foot peeked out from under the sheet.

Ron stared blankly at him. Hermione was still giggling in the background. Harry waited in annoyance for Ron's reaction. Ron, however, didn't move, or even make a sound…the only sign of life was the slightly twitching corner of his mouth.

"You're joking, right?"

He was answered with Harry's glare.

"But…but what happened? Why would girls attack you?"

"Harry," Hermione answered between laughs, "has a fan club."

"A fan club?" Ron asked with astonishment, looking from Hermione to Harry.

Harry glowered in his bed.

"Oh, now I've heard it all!" Ron said, and he began laughing as well. This, of course, started Hermione laughing even harder.

"Go ahead," Harry grumbled. "Get it all out of your system, you two."

So they did. They laughed. And snickered. And giggled. And Harry tried his best to be angry at them, but he knew he'd be laughing just as much if it were Ron here in his place.

"I'm sorry," Ron finally said, cooling down. "It's just, I never imagined it'd be anything like that. I thought a covert Death Eater had come after you or something. I can't believe a bunch of girls did this to you. I mean, you defeated You-Know-Who single-handedly…but I suppose it's easier to take on one Dark Lord than twenty-something crazed fangirls." Ron tried to stifle more laughter.

"Poor Harry," Hermione said, coming around to the other side of his bed and patting him gently on the shoulder. "He just didn't stand a chance. We were leaving Flourish and Blotts, and we just happened to come out right as the girls left their meeting," she said, snickering a little, "and before he could even Apparate out, they had hold of him…pulling him in every direction. All I saw was pieces of his shirt being ripped and flung about. When the mob finally cleared, he was lying on the ground, unconscious."

"Unconscious?! How'd that happen?"

"It was a freak accident, really. Could've happened to anyone. Well," she said, starting to laugh again, "anyone with a fan club at least."

"Sod off," Harry said, shrugging her hand off his shoulder.

She smiled. "Apparently," she continued, "one of the girls pulled out her wand instead of her quill…wanting an autograph, you know…and then accidentally shot it off, and she must have cast some type of damage spell, because it dislodged the shop sign above us, and it fell, hitting Harry in the head."

"Hurt like bloody hell, too," Harry added in a gruff voice.

Ron laughed quietly, shaking his head in pity. "Harry, something like this could only happen to you. Well, you or Neville."

"Some lot of friends you are," Harry grumbled. "Aren't you supposed to be comforting me and supporting me?"

"Are we?" Hermione asked, winking at Ron.

"I think so."

"Where's it say that?" Ron asked.

"I dunno. It's in the rules or something."

"Rules? What rules? Do we follow rules, Ron?"

Harry shot a glare at Hermione. "Cheeky."

The other two laughed. "Sorry, mate. It's just too easy," Ron said. "Listen, I've got to get back to work. Will you be ok with her?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"No," Hermione chipped in.

Ron laughed and said goodbye, and Hermione filled the empty seat.

"Can I get you anything, Harry? A pillow? A drink? A press agent??" she laughed.

He rolled his eyes. "Bugger off."

She grinned. "You know you love me."