A/N: I've heard that this chapter may require a tissue warning. This is from my beta who claims to have cried. She may have just been saying that to inflate my already very large head, but I thought it'd mention it anyway.
A/N 2: Congrats to the very large number of people who managed to spot my Buffy shut-out. Buffy was my first fandom, though I've slowly been leaving it behind over the course of the past year or so. Still, it pops up at the oddest times-like in Dumbledore's dialogue.
Feedback: I hate it when authors beg for feedback. It always sounds sort of… petty. That being said and done, I have no qualms about doing it myself. Feed me!
Harry could not find Hermione anywhere. He'd checked the library (twice), the Great Hall, the Gryffindor common room, and he'd even made Ginny check the girls' bathroom for him. After re-checking the library for a third time, he made his way to the common room, sat down by the fire, and stared morosely into it, waiting for Ron and feeling hopelessly alone.
He didn't need to wait long. Ron entered the common room, a bewildered look on his face. Upon seeing Harry, he made his way hesitantly over to him, standing awkwardly and watching the flames with a suspicious frown.
Harry looked at him. "What… what was that about?"
"Nothing," Ron answered quickly.
"Ron…" Harry stared down at his hands, pondering how best to tackle the question burning in his throat. "Are you still very… angry with me?"
Ron shrugged. "Not as much as I was."
"Oh."
"Harry…" Ron began slowly. "Are you… jealous of me?"
Harry looked startled. "What d'you mean?"
Ron shook his head. "Just something Dumbledore said. He reckons that you're envious of what I have."
Harry thought about it, wondering if this was supposed to be a trick question. "I'm not jealous of you," he finally said, slowly. "Sometimes I wish I had a family, a mum and dad, definitely a life out of the public eye, but that's not really the same thing. Why?"
"No, it's nothing." Ron answered quickly. "I'm just trying to figure things out."
"How's that going?" Harry asked.
He shrugged again. "I dunno."
Harry pressed on. "Ron, I want you to know, that we're not abandoning you. Nothing's changed the way we feel about you. You're our best friend and…."
"I know." Ron interrupted. "But… I don't really know if I want to be friends for a while. It's painful to see you and Hermione together."
Harry prodded the fire with his shoe, feeling a lump gather in his throat. "Do you want my Firebolt?" he asked, in a small voice.
Ron looked up, startled. "What?"
"My Firebolt? Do you want it? I'll give it to you if you want. I'll… I'll break up with Hermione. I'll do anything, Ron." Harry pleaded desperately. "You're friendship is way more important, okay? I'll give up whatever I have to…"
Ron shook his head. "It doesn't work that way."
"What do you mean?" Harry said. "C'mon… we can work things out…"
"We can't, Harry." Ron said with finality. "At least, not now. Just give me some time, okay?"
Harry nodded miserably.
"Look…I don't want you to break up with Hermione. I don't think it would help things, really. Plus, she'd probably cry and…" Ron trailed off, looking miserable.
Harry smiled slightly, his stomach tightening into a knot. "Thank you."
"But I don't think I want to be best friends right now, either. It doesn't mean I don't support you… or that I won't always be here for you. I just need…"
"Time?" Harry finished, in a hollow voice.
Ron nodded. "Yeah." He suddenly grinned cheekily. "And a nice, new Firebolt."
Harry chuckled, despite the fact that he felt like throwing up. "Sorry, you already turned it down. Not refunds."
"Oh. Damn."
Harry bit his lip. "Ron? Do you… you know… like Hermione?"
Ron flushed a deep, crimson red. "Of course not. Have you met her? Girl's mental."
"How long?"
"About two years, actually."
Harry felt the knot in his stomach tighten. "I'm sorry. I never knew." Then, slightly more betrayed, he added, "You never told me."
Ron shrugged. "Figured that you always sort of liked her, too." He swallowed, "Besides, I was worried that if I said it aloud, it would come true. I didn't really *want* to like her, you know? She's the most annoying, obnoxious, prissy, pompous girl in our year."
"Yeah," said Harry with a fond smile.
"And…" Ron added, looking hesitant. "I always thought that she'd chose you in the end. You've always understood her better, you're always doing that thing where you communicate just by looking at her, and you've always managed to keep your mouth shut at the rights times." Ron looked heartsick, "All I managed to do was fight with her a lot."
"She liked you, too. I don't even know," Harry looked at his hands. "I don't even know… how she ended up with me, really."
Ron shrugged morosely. "Beats me." Then, in a slightly more cajoling tone, added, "Because she's mental."
Harry laughed. "Yeah."
They shared a smile and Harry, in that moment, had the feeling that things would really end up okay in the end. The moment was broken, however, when the door to the common room slammed and Neville rushed in pale and sweating. When he saw the two of them, his eyes lit up slightly and he ran over to them, clutching his wand so tightly his hand was turning white.
"Neville… is everything alright…?" Ron asked, uncertain.
Harry stared at him, a cold fear working its way into the pit of his stomach. His voice was shaking when he asked, "What happened?"
Neville's eyes filled with tears. "It's Hermione…" he gasped out. "She's in the hospital wing."
Harry felt his stomach bottom out. His mouth painful dry he asked, "She's okay, though, right? I mean, she just scraped her knee or something, fell down the stairs, had a spell backfire... RIGHT?"
Neville shook his head, clearly terrified. "She was attacked…"
Whatever else Neville was going to say, Harry didn't know, because he took off running. He only knew that he had to get to the infirmary. He wasn't the least bit surprised to find that was Ron next to him, his face pale and his breathing shallow. Together they burst out of the common room, took the stairs two at a time, ran along Hogwarts' long hallways, through the Great Hall, down another flight of stairs, before rushing to the infirmary and bursting through the doors… and running smack into Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore.
Harry looked up at them, breathing hard, a stitch growing in his side, and a fear like he'd never really felt before tearing at his stomach. "Where is SHE?" he yelled. "What happened? Is she okay? WHO DID THIS???"
Ron nodded profusely beside him, apparently too winded to talk.
Professor McGonagall looked uncertain. "She's… well… we don't really know." At the look on Harry's face, she turned to Dumbledore. "Albus, perhaps you could…"
Dumbledore, looking grave, put a hand on Harry's shoulder and steered him through the hospital wing and into a smaller room. Harry let out a gasp. Hermione was lying on a single bed, her face pale and contorted in pain. She was unconscious and didn't make any movement as Harry approached the bed, shaking.
Behind him, he heard Ron breathing heavily. "Who did this to her…?"
Harry couldn't speak. He fell to his knees beside her bed and grasped her hand. "Hermione…" he croaked. "It's me. Wake up… please… wake up… it'll be okay. Just… wake up."
"She doesn't appear to be responding to anything," Dumbledore said quietly. Harry jumped, having completely forgotten that he was still in the room. "Madame Pomfrey decided to put her here to keep her safe. This room is enchanted to keep out all those that wish to harm her."
Harry stood up shakily, blinking back tears. He looked at Dumbledore, meeting his eyes. "What happened?" he asked again, his voice low and dangerously close to breaking.
"About a half hour ago, Hermione was attacked while she had her back turned," Dumbledore answered quietly. "We are not sure of the nature of the curse her attacker used, but I assure you that Madam Pomfrey will work around the clock until Hermione is cured."
"But… but…" Ron protested, sounding confused. "Who would want to attack Hermione? 'Sides Malfoy, that is. And even Malfoy would have the decency to look her in the eye when he did."
Harry looked at Hermione's still form, feeling sick. "Ron, they attacked her because of me."
Ron shook his head. "Harry, that's ridiculous. You were with me when she was attacked, you couldn't have been the…"
"They attacked her," he repeated, slowly. "Because she's going out with me. Because rumors are going around that she… she put a spell on me." Harry heard his voice cracking and couldn't even summon up the will to care. "This is all my fault."
"No, Harry, it is not your fault," Dumbledore interjected. "This is the fault of Hermione's attacker, and theirs alone. This could not have been foreseen, could not have been prevented." Dumbledore's voice hardened, "And will be dealt with."
Harry glanced up quickly. "You know who it is."
Dumbledore held his gaze. "Yes. And that person, I assure you, will be punished."
"That person should be HANGED!" Ron burst in, shaking. "There is no excuse for a attacking a wizard behind their back… NO EXCUSE!"
Dumbledore kept his eyes on Harry's face. "This person does not deserve your hate, Harry, but your pity. Clearly a person who is willing to commit such an act is very unhappy."
"I don't care!" Harry yelled. "If they had a problem, they should have come after me! HERMIONE DOESN'T DESERVE TO BE PUNISHED BECAUSE I'M FAMOUS! WHO DID THIS TO HER???"
Dumbledore didn't so much as flinch. "I will not tell you, Harry, not matter how much you rage at me. However, if it makes you feel less useless, carry on."
Harry was so angry that his fists were clenched by his sides. He grabbed his wand and pointed it threateningly at Dumbledore. "WHO DID THIS???"
Ron backed up a step. "Harry," he said, weakly. "Maybe Dumbledore's right."
Dumbledore continued to watch Harry impassively. "Put your wand away."
"TELL ME WHO ATTACKED HER!"
Dumbledore's eyes darkened and he flicked his wand, calmly murmuring, "Expelliarmus."
For the second time that night, Harry felt himself powerfully thrown backwards. This time, instead of landing painfully on the floor, he landed on a heap of cushions. He struggled up immediately, looking around for his wand, only to see it in Dumbledore's hand.
"Give that back!" he raged.
Dumbledore looked sad. "I'm afraid I can't, Harry."
Harry felt something wet slide down his face. "Give it back!" he demanded again, in a broken voice. "I CAN'T LOSE HER, TOO!"
Dumbledore pocketed Harry's wand and crouched in front of him, his eyes looking old and sad. "And you won't." He put a protective arm on his shoulder. "But I need you to stay with her. I need you to try and reach her. Is that understood?"
Harry realized that he was crying. Wiping his tears away, he shook his head. "She doesn't deserve it… doesn't deserve it…" he whispered. Eyes fierce, he looked at Dumbledore. "Everyone who loves me dies."
"That's not TRUE!" Ron cried, coming towards him. "She is NOT dead! I'm not DEAD! Mom, Dad, Fred, and George are NOT dead!" He gestured towards Dumbledore. "Dumbledore is NOT dead!"
"He's right, Harry." Dumbledore said firmly.
Harry recoiled and felt his eyes burn. "I she… is she… in pain?" he whispered.
Dumbledore shook his head. "She looks Petrified, I realize that."
"No. When people were Petrified, they didn't look like they were in pain."
Ron covered his mouth with his hands, looking terrified. "Dumbledore just said she isn't in pain… right?"
Dumbledore led Harry back over to Hermione. "She may be able to hear you," he said. "I can't, honestly, tell you what she's feeling. Madam Pomfrey gave her a sedative that should prevent her from feeling anything. How it is working, I cannot tell you."
Dumbledore held out Harry's wand. "I'm trusting you," he said, before giving it to him. "That you will not use this to avenge Hermione's attack in any way."
Harry nodded bleakly before accepting it. Dumbledore closed his hand around it before sweeping out of the room. Once he was gone, Harry noticed the penetrating silence, broken only by Ron's loud breathing.
With fear, he raised his eyes to Hermione's face. Her eyes were closed, her cheeks red, and her mouth contorted in a grimace. He swept his eyes down her form, her fists were clenched at her sides, but he was comforted by the way her chest rose up and down. He swallowed, reaching out and placing his palm against her cheek. Her skin was warm, and slightly clammy under his hand.
He heard Ron rustle beside him and he turned to find Ron holding out a box of tissues. "I thought you might… err… need these."
Harry was again reminded that he was still crying. Taking a tissue, he quickly wiped his cheeks and blew his nose, but still couldn't seem to control his tears. "Don't tell, Malfoy," he whispered, his voice breaking slightly.
"Wouldn't dream of it." Ron crouched down beside him, examining Hermione. "Looks sort of Petrified, doesn't she?"
Harry shook his head and gently smoothed a lock of hair behind her ear. Moving to her fists, he straightened each of her fingers one by one, until they looked almost normal. "She's just unconscious. I couldn't have done that if she'd been Petrified."
Ron still looked uncertain. "Not very reassuring that they don't have the faintest idea of what she'd been hit with, is it?"
Harry only shook his head, feeling completely helpless.
"Dumbledore told us to talk to her, though, didn't he?" Moving forward, Ron took her hand before glancing back at Harry, slightly embarrassed. "Is this… does this… do you mind?"
Harry just shook his head. "It's fine," he said, his tongue feeling thick. "I hope that she knows you're here."
Ron nodded. "Hermione," he said, watching her face slightly for signs of a reaction. "We're both really worried about what happened to you. Harry was so upset that he nearly attacked Dumbledore. And he's bawling all over the place, you've turned him into quite the girl." Ron paused, looking sad. "Don't worry about getting your homework done, either. Every teacher knows you're way ahead, they'll probably give you an "Outstanding" just for lying here and not doing anything. Of course, we'll still get all your homework for you because I know that you hate it when you think you've fallen behind."
Ron stared miserably down at her. "We really need you, Hermione. So please wake up soon. Please…" Ron looked horrified when his voice began to crack. He stood up quickly. "I'm going to the bathroom." Covering his eyes, he rushed off, leaving Harry alone.
Harry, glancing to make sure he was really alone, climbed gingerly on the bed next to her. He turned on his side so that he was facing her. Glancing behind him again, Harry gently stroked his hand through her hair.
"I'll find out what happened to you," he whispered fiercely. "I promise. And no one will ever come near you again. I'll follow you around everywhere, you won't be able to get rid of me. I'll even go to the library with you and help you study. Just as long as you're safe. That's all that matters."
His only response was the slight rise and fall of her chest. He started crying again, his tears sliding off his chin and landing in her hair. Cupping her cheek, he pressed a kiss to her mouth, willing for anything to stave off the look of pain that was written there. She didn't respond, and he pulled away to find her face still wearing the same look of horror. Feeling the hope die inside him, he tried talking again, his voice coming out in short bursts and sounding slightly panicky.
"I know that I've sort of made a mess of things for us, but I'll be better. I won't ever be moody or angry again. Ron and I are starting to get along better, now, too. Sending me flying really seemed to do wonders. So, you see, Hermione, you have to wake up. You're missing out on so much just lying there." His voice cracked. "Just… please let me know you're in there. Let me know you can hear me, that you'll be okay. Please, Hermione. I need to know… please…"
Harry listened in breathless silence, waiting for something that would let him know that she would be okay. She didn't move. Harry let out a grown of pain, and put his head on her shoulder, breathing her in, and reassuring himself that she was still alive.
He felt her shift slightly. He looked up, hardly daring to believe that what he felt had been real. She shifted again, moving closer to him. He stayed absolutely still, watching her in breathless silence, feeling hope well inside him again. She let out a low moan and rolled towards him, curling up in his arms. Her face shifted, becoming more relaxed and she clutched his side, holding him against her.
Harry let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He tightened his arms around her, holding her close. He closed his eyes, breathed in her scent, and felt a powerful relief surge through his body. He kicked off his shoes and socks and, feeling more relaxed than he had in a long time, managed to fall asleep, Hermione tightly pressed up against him.
TBC