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 (June 17)
Challenge: Hermione twists an ankle and Harry helps her.
Title: Paris, With a Twist - Part 2
Word Count: 1,007
Author's Note 2: This is a continuation from the June 16th challenge, so clearly opposing my statement above, this is related to the past post. ;)
Harry opened the door under a sign that read: "Le Seau Perçant." A bell tinkled as they entered the dingy tavern, and a burly man behind the bar said, "Bonjour, Monsieur Potter…Mademoiselle Granger."
"Bonjour, Maslin," Harry nodded as he passed the man and made his way to the back of the room.
With Hermione still on his back, he stepped into a small hallway, walked past the kitchen and opened a broom cupboard door. He stepped in, closed the door, and said, "Lobby."
The floor shook a little as the broom cupboard rose, then stopped. Harry opened the door again and stepped out onto the sparkling marble floor of their hotel. Ginny was reading in one of the gold-gilded armchairs near the front desk and saw them.
"Hi, Harry…Hermione," she said, smirking slightly at their piggy-back position. "Where have you two been?"
"We were down at the Jardin du Luxembourg. Hermione had a little accident," Harry said, nodding in the direction of Hermione's ankle.
The smirk instantly fell off Ginny's face. "Ouch…that doesn't look good," she said, leaning down to take a closer look. "Hermione, are you in much pain?"
Hermione, who was clearly in a daze now, barely raised her head and let out a muffled, "Mmpf."
"Harry," Ginny said, standing upright, "take her up to our room and I'll send mum up."
Harry did as Ginny said, and in just a few minutes there was a knock at the door.
"Come in."
"Harry, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, coming in and sitting down beside Hermione. "Ginny told me what happened. Ooh…yes, this looks pretty bad." Hermione's ankle was now swollen twice its normal size, and had turned a lovely shade of Pride-of-Portee purple.
Mrs. Weasley dug around in the large carpet bag she had brought and pulled out a small bottle. "Hermione, can you drink this, dear?"
Hermione mumbled something incoherently that sounded somewhat like a "yes." Harry helped boost Hermione up and she semi-consciously drank the concoction.
"It'll take a few hours, but that should fix her right up," Mrs. Weasley said. "She'll probably sleep the whole time, but she'll be back to normal when she wakes." Harry nodded as Mrs. Weasley got up.
She glanced around the room a moment, looking a bit perplexed, then turned to Harry. "Harry, dear…where's Ron?"
"Oh," Harry said, "He's still at the park. He and Charlie were watching the Muggles play chess, so Hermione and I went to watch a puppet show. That's when she twisted her ankle, so I brought her back."
"I see. Well, keep an eye on her, will you, dear?"
Harry nodded and saw Mrs. Weasley to the door. When she was gone, he went back to Hermione's side. Her eyes were closed and she seemed so peaceful that he didn't want to disturb her.
"Hermione," he whispered, "I'll just be next door if you…"
"No," she interrupted…or at least that's what he thought she said.
"No?"
"Stay with me," she said in a barely audible whisper. She reached over, blindly searching for his hand, and she held it. Harry thought he saw the beginnings of a smile cross her lips.
So he sat down on the floor beside the bed, letting her hold onto his hand. He had spent enough time in the hospital wing to know what she was going through. She'd visited him so often back then that he didn't at all mind being here for her now.
He leaned back against the nightstand and let his head rest on the edge of the bed. Now that he was sitting, he realized how tired he'd gotten from carrying her around.
"I'll just…close…my eyes…" he was thinking, when everything went black.
* * * * *
"Hehe, look at them," a voice said, giggling. "Aren't they cute?"
Harry awoke feeling a bit muddy-headed. For a moment he wasn't sure where he was or why, but when he felt Hermione's hand in his he remembered.
"How'd they get back so soon?" Ron said to Ginny.
"She hurt her ankle, and he carried her back here."
"How'd she manage that?" Ron asked.
"I promised I wouldn't say," Harry said, opening his eyes and looking at Ron.
Ron grinned at him. "Must've been pretty foolish if she made you promise that."
"My lips are sealed."
Ron laughed. "Alright, but I'll get it out of one of you before this trip is over."
"Will she be able to walk tonight?" Ginny asked earnestly. "We're supposed to go to the Eiffel Tower."
Harry looked at Hermione's ankle. It was nearly back to its normal size, and just slightly purple. "Maybe," he said.
"Ooh, if not, maybe we can get her one of those wheelie-seats!" Ron said excitedly.
"Wheelchairs, Ron," Harry corrected.
Just then, Hermione stirred.
"She's waking up," Ginny said. "How are you feeling, Hermione?"
Hermione blinked a few times, then propped herself up on her elbows, letting go of Harry's hand. After taking in her surroundings, she said, "I feel okay. A little disoriented, but okay."
"What year is it?" Ron asked, grinning.
"Don't be silly, Ron. It's 1998."
"And how's your ankle?" Harry asked.
She looked down at her ankle, moved it slightly and winced. "Still a little sore…but much better."
"It should be good as new in an hour or so," Harry said, rubbing his stiff neck.
"Good," Ginny said, looking at her watch. "Then I'll go tell Fred and George to get ready. We'll leave around six."
"We'd better get ready, too, Harry," Ron said, heading to the door.
"Right. I'll be right there."
Ron left after Ginny, and Harry stood up to follow suit.
"Will you be alright?" he asked. "Ginny'll be back shortly."
"I think so."
"Good. Well, it's been a fun day, but let's see if we can keep the evening a bit less eventful," he said, smiling.
"Ok," she agreed with a grin. "Well…thanks for the ride."
"My pleasure," he said, walking to the door.
"And Harry," she called after him. "Thanks for staying with me."
He smiled. "Anytime."
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
A/N: Oops! I ran over just a hair. I would like to continue this story, so look for another episode in the
future...I'd really love to see their visit to the Eiffel Tower! Oh, and Le Seau Perçant means "The Pierced
Bucket", or some variation of it since I don't really know French. Just my own little play on The Leaky
Cauldron.