Disclaimer: Not mine, as if you lived under a rock and thought it was.
PART II: The Interim
Chapter One: Aftermath
Ron and the rest of the D.A. had fallen back, regrouping with Lupin and the aurors to block the way to Hogwarts. Hogsmeade was an inferno, and even the Death Eaters were having to emerge from the flames. Ron looked grim, and dashed blood from a cut across his forehead out of his eyes.
He looked up the path to the dark, abandoned castle, imagining that he could see the light of the hospital wing. He saw other fighters begin to take positions along the stiles and trees adjacent to the road. It looked like their last stand would be here.
"Are you all right?" he asked Luna Lovegood, who had been his partner during the battle in Hogsmeade. Seamus Finnegan had been with them as well, until an injury had forced him back to the hospital wing.
"I'm okay," she whispered back, her voice vibrant and intense, with none of the vagueness that he tended to associate with her. He saw Ernie MacMillan emerge from the forest, and knew that he had been with the group furthest into Hogsmeade. The Ravenclaw should have been the last one out of the ruined town. Ron's eyes roved expectantly in the darkness, even he thought Harry and Hermione had been toward Lupin's end of the line, toward the edge of town, and he still did not see them.
"Ernie!" Ron hissed, calling him over. "Did you see Harry or Hermione?" Ernie shook his head. "Did you see any - " He could not bring himself to say it.
"No," Ernie said, his eyes serious. "They've all been sent back to hospital wing, even the…" dead ones. He trailed off, the words unspoken. Ron ran one hand through damp, dirty hair in frustration. He questioned everyone coming out of Hogsmeade, and nobody had seen them; no one remembered them as being among the fallen.
He felt a tug on his arm, and realized that Luna was pulling him toward a low stone wall. They both crouched behind it.
"Mum's going to be right pissed at me if I end up dead," he said whimsically. Luna smiled at him, and her white teeth flashed in the wan light of the crescent moon.
"Maybe we'll meet again on another plane, Ronald," she said. "I'll be the one with the necklace made of butterbeer corks." He couldn't help but grin at her, and realized that Hermione would have started berating him for finding humor in things that were not funny at all.
Thinking about Hermione made him worry again. Where the hell are they?
And as if they'd been waiting to answer his question, he saw the first Death Eaters moving stealthily from the roaring town. There was movement to either side too, although he couldn't identify it, until he realized that there must be others clad in disillusionment charms, trying to make their way around the flank of the Light.
"There!" he hissed to Luna, putting one hand on her arm, and directing her attention away from the main avenue of the town. When the Death Eaters stopped advancing, they became utterly invisible, blending completely into the background.
Ron had a moment of satisfaction, when he saw the flickering movement of a disillusioned Death Eater crumple, with a groan of pain. He did not rise again, but Ron was left to wonder curiously who had fired the curse. Soon it seemed that the Death Eaters were dropping like doxies, writhing and clutching at themselves with hands clawed by pain. The Light had not cast a single spell.
Up and down the line, the D.A., the Order, and the aurors were exchanging bewildered glances. The fighting slowly stopped, and the Death Eaters still did not continue the attack. No movement was seen on the field of battle at all. Then there was a low rumble from behind them, and Hogwarts itself seemed to tremble slightly.
Ron and Luna looked at each other, and Ron thought he saw a spark of comprehension in her eyes.
"He's done it!" she said triumphantly. "I knew he would! He invited me to a party once, you know."
"Harry…?" Ron said in wonderment. But it all made sense. If Voldemort was dead…the Death Eaters had collapsed as one, clutching their forearms…the Dark Mark… He leapt up suddenly, whooping out loud, and startling Remus Lupin. "He's defeated Voldemort! He's done it. It's over!"
A cheer spread down the line, and Ron could see Lupin's eyes grow intent, as he put the facts together and came to the same conclusion. A weary smile spread over the werewolf's face, but was almost immediately followed by shadows.
"But where is he?" Lupin asked.
The shouts and huzzahs dwindled away, as the aurors quickly moved to restrain the incapacitated Death Eaters. The D.A. and the Order stood, mostly staring at each other, dumbfounded. Ron swallowed uncomfortably.
Harry had defeated Voldemort. But it did not necessarily follow that Harry had lived. Desperation surged up in Ron, threatening to choke him, and he began to run toward Hogwarts, scarcely hearing Lupin's cries for him to wait.
"Harry! Hermione!" he shouted, his hoarse voice being torn away on the wind. Lupin, Luna and the other members of the D.A. were right on his heels.
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Somewhere there was stone scraping…and voices…they were vibrant, echoing, and he could not make out what they said…there was movement all around him…a hum of voices….there was a rumble and a small hiss…
Careful! Someone said in a cautionary tone.
…there was dust in his mouth…he wanted to swallow… he wanted to open his eyes…A nimbus of light flared on the other side of his closed eyelids, and he scrunched his face up reflexively…
He wanted the light to stop…it swirled around behind his eyelids, leaving an aura behind it…. It hurt his head….it made him dizzy….
…he wanted to swallow…where was Hermione? Hermione!
Nothing…the voices said… did you look over…oh, Merlin, there's blood…
Blood…whose blood? Something was sticky…he was thirsty… why couldn't he feel his legs…he tried to move one leg and was rewarded by dazzling pain that shot all the way through him… the light drifted away, and he felt sudden panic…
Don't go! Did he make a noise? He wasn't sure…but his mouth was as dry as desert sand. The voices were muffled. We've got her! A voice called out. Her? Who? Hermione? He wanted to reach out his hand…he'd been holding her hand. Where had she gone? Come back, Hermione, please!
The light was back.
There was a gasp…the light came up brighter…he wanted to turn his face away. He wanted to move… There! Someone exclaimed.
Hold on now, son! A voice said. He was being lifted… he wanted it to stop…it made him dizzy. Everything hurt….he wanted it to stop hurting… everything was cold and wet down here…where was he? He took a deep breath, and it echoed raspily in his ears…caused a sudden shooting pain in his side…someone said Immobulus, and the pain abated somewhat.
Harry! A voice - a girls' voice - said, strained and full of tears. He felt a warm hand against his cheek. Everythi… going …just fine...ll see… get you to…pital wing…
Who was talking to him? He smiled. Hermione?
Suddenly the hand was gone.
The light swirled around him unbearably and the voices grew clamoring and cacophonous. Pain washed over him, buffeted him, until he was no longer cognizant of anything else.
He let go.
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Ron was waiting pensively in the corridor outside the hospital wing, along with several other members of the D.A. that had also escaped without major injury. He rubbed the bandage that had been placed over his forehead wound while it healed. It had not been terribly severe, but had been deep. The healing charm stung, and the sticking charm holding the bandage in place itched.
Luna sighed with fatigue, and leaned heavily on his shoulder. He let his cheek rest companionably on top of her head. Ernie MacMillan slouched across the corridor from him, and Dean sat uneasily on a window sill, drumming his heels against the stone wall. Parvati and Lavender stood listlessly near each other, their normally chattering natures subdued.
A little way down the hall, Arthur Weasley was talking in low, serious tones to the Minister of Magic, leonine Rufus Scrimgeour.
McGonagall, Lupin, and Ginny had not been out of the hospital wing since they had brought Harry and Hermione up. The doors opened, and everyone straightened immediately, focusing their attention on the person coming out.
It was Hannah Abbott. There were pink glows of healing charms on several minor lacerations, and she was rubbing her wrist gingerly, where the bones had just been realigned. The D.A. members slumped back down against the walls.
"How's Seamus?" Dean called out, desperate to know the status of his best mate.
"He was still unconscious," Hannah answered shyly. "But they had him stable. They think he's going to be fine."
"And how about Susan?" someone else said.
"They've sent her on to St. Mungo's," Hannah said. Her eyes fell and her chin wobbled. "It doesn't look good." She tried to control her shaky voice to continue. "There were three aurors in there…dead…and - and Professor S - Sinistra…and - and Justin…" she started crying in earnest then, and Parvati Patil came up to her then, and enveloped her in a hug, shushing softly into her hair. Hannah pulled away from Parvati, as if remembering something. "Padma looked like she was okay. They had her leg under some kind of glowing charm…restraining it or something. I think it was hurting her…she was asking for you," she hiccupped.
Parvati nodded. "Stay with Hannah," she asked Lavender, who nodded and came to Hannah's side. With barely a sound, Parvati disappeared inside the hospital wing.
Hannah sniffled, and her eyes fell on Ron, who looked at her with desperation.
"Did you see - " he began, but she shook her head almost immediately.
"I heard Madame Pomfrey arguing with another healer. They need to go to St. Mungo's, but they aren't stable enough for transfer. They had a curtain around…they wouldn't let anybody in… not even Ginny…"
Ron blinked back the tears that were stinging his eyes, and ran one hand through his hair in frustration and despair. He felt Luna's soft touch on his arm, a reassuring caress.
"They're going to be okay," she whispered softly. "The Hard-shelled Whumblevox fell into the Rhone River on the first day of summer, and that always means good luck… especially for those that vanquish evil wizards."
Ron stared at her disbelievingly for a moment, with a watery, wobbly smile that finally dissolved into a feeble laugh. "Thanks, Luna," he said, putting one arm around her, and ruffling her hair chummily.
The hospital doors opened again, and the tense, waiting stances returned to everybody in the corridor. It was Professor McGonagall.
"Arthur, Mr. Minister…" she called out, and the two men swiftly came up the hallway, disappearing inside the hospital doors. Ron watched her face carefully. It seemed etched in stone, her eyes dark with horrors she wished she'd never seen. She turned to go back into the infirmary.
"Professor McGonagall, please!" he burst out suddenly. She looked back at him, and sympathy creased her worn face.
"Come with me, Mr. Weasley. You too, Miss Lovegood," she added, oddly, her eyes flitting from Ron to Luna.
Gratefully, they went inside the inner sanctum with their Headmistress.
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Inside the hospital wing was constant, but well-ordered bustle and movement. Ron caught a flash of red hair - his mother, he thought, it looked too short to be Ginny - but it was gone behind drawn curtains quickly.
Almost every bed was full of injured fighters. Some seemed relatively mild…Padma Patil was sitting up in her bed, her leg bound in a shimmering restraint. Parvati was on a chair nearby, talking to her twin sister in a low voice. Then he did see Ginny, further down the ward, applying burn salve to the face and arms of an auror that he didn't know. His eyes fell on Seamus, who looked unharmed physically, but lay quite still, his face drawn and pale, even against the hospital-white sheets.
But it was the head of the room that he was most interested in, the curtains that his mother had disappeared behind. There were low hushed voices, and occasional glows of wandflash. He took a step toward the cordoned-off area, but was stopped by Professor McGonagall's voice.
"Mr. Potter and Miss Granger are going to be transported to St. Mungo's," she said, with a stern note in her voice.
"But Hannah said they weren't - " Ron began to protest, but stopped at the grey, drawn look on McGonagall's face.
"I'm afraid we've no other choice," she said grimly. This brought Ron up short.
"Can we come?" he asked quietly. McGonagall nodded.
"Once they've arrived at St. Mungo's and been stabilized satisfactorily, I'm sure you'll be allowed to see them. We'll be leaving momentarily. You can use the Floo in my office." Ron nodded, his eyes flickering back to the drawn curtains, the pain a mask across his features. Never before had he felt so lonely, so useless. They had gone off to fight Voldemort without him, and they were near death…and he - he was fine. He shook his head grimly, and closed his eyes. He would've given it up in a heartbeat to save either of them. He wished that he could tell them that.
"Ron?" came a soft voice. Ginny stood at his elbow, blood smeared on her apron, and a empty tin of salve in her hand. Her hair was twisted up into a knot on top of her head, and held in place with her wand. Her face was drawn and tired, and there were purple circles under her eyes. She drew him over into the potions closet and closed the door.
"There's something you ought to know…" she began.
"They're moving Harry and Hermione," Ron finished for her. "I know. Luna and I are leaving by Floo in just a moment. Are you coming?"
Ginny shook her head as her eyes filled with tears. She held her face quite still, as if she were afraid that any movement would shatter it completely. "No," she said, her voice raw with pain. "No, I won't be going. They need me here. They…" she trailed off, and looked at him in bewilderment, as if she had no idea why she had called him in there in the first place.
Ron bent down so he could look fully into her face. "You've been working too hard. You need a break," he pronounced with an air of finality, even as she shook her head in the negative. "You were down there, weren't you? In the Chamber? Looking for him?" He could only imagine how difficult that had been for her, all her nightmares come to life in one hellish place.
She bit her lips together and nodded, while tears coursed silently down her cheeks.
"The - the ceiling had fallen in on them… they - we had to levitate all - all these huge rocks out of the way… we - Mum and I - and - McGonagall…I don't know where she came from…and Lupin - " Ron nodded.
"Lupin wouldn't let any of us down there. Luna, Ernie, and I were busy tying up Malfoy, and putting him back in the dungeon. Found him stunned in the girls' loo." He shook his head in confusion, unable to ponder that particular mystery at the moment.
"A - any - anyway, there was blood everywhere, and then we saw this big scorched place on the floor, and this pile of robes - and a wand - Lupin snapped it… and the - the sword - it was covered in blood - and we were looking everywhere…there was a noise…I think some - one of them must have moved or something…then we saw Hermione…she was - she was almost buried in rock, but it looked like - " she stifled a sob then, and continued with difficulty. "It looked like Harry - Harry must have cast a Protego over her, but when - when we saw H - Harry… I don't know how he could have done it…his wand was on the other- and he - he - he …" and she completely broke down. Ron enfolded her in his arms, and held her tightly, as she cried.
"Ronald," came a vague voice from the other side of the door. "They've just left. Professor McGonagall says it's time to go."
"All right then," Ron replied, and looked seriously into his sister's damp eyes. "Are you going to be okay?" She stiffened and nodded, her face seeming to form itself back into a mask. "Are you sure you don't want to come with us?"
"I'm needed here," she said calmly, sniffing a little. "If you talk to - to him, tell him - tell him that…"
"No, you can tell him yourself, when he wakes up," Ron said firmly. Ginny sighed a little.
"You'd better go," she said. He kissed her lightly on the forehead, and left her alone in the potions closet, alone with the knowledge that Harry had been found holding Hermione's hand, and that in his delirium, he'd been crying her name.
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Ron and Luna sat in Hermione's hospital room, tension apparent in the very set of their bodies. Ron was hunched forward in a chair, his chin in his hands. Luna was curled up in the windowsill, her knees tucked close to her body, staring dreamily through the glass. A copy of the Quibbler was folded up next to her…she'd been reading it sideways.
Hermione had been stabilized first, but had not yet regained consciousness. Ron's heartfelt pleading had finally persuaded the healer in charge to grudgingly allow them to sit in her room.
Her chief injury was a head wound that the healers believed she had sustained when the ceiling began to cave in. They weren't sure how her memory or her ability to perform magic would be affected when she woke up…if she woke up.
They were still working on Harry. Ron had managed a glimpse of him, as the healers had levitated him past at breakneck speed, and he still saw the ghastly image whenever he closed his eyes. His face had been blackened and swollen with bruises, his hands crusted with blood, his fingernails torn down low in the nail bed. Part of his face seemed sunken in, as well, as if one of the bones in his cheek had been broken.
Madame Pomfrey had removed Harry's mangled glasses from his face before he left Hogwarts. Ron held them now, absently twirling the distorted metal through his fingers, the lenses long gone.
There was a moan from the bed, and Ron sat upright suddenly, his eyes focused intently on the prone form nearby. He thought at first that he had imagined it, but no…she shifted, moaned again, and lifted one hand. A healing charm glowed pinkly on the tender skin of her palm, matching the twin lacerations across her cheek. He saw the faint shadowing of bruises beginning to form on her arms.
"Hermione - " he started to say, but his words were cut off, by the low, rusty croak of her voice.
"Harry?" she asked, in a piteous plea. "Harry? Where's Harry?"
Ron stood to his feet, and stepped more closely to her bedside, coming into her field of vision. "He's alive. He's going to be okay…they're working on him right now," he said in a low voice, meant to soothe.
She stared at him, without comprehension, as her eyes filled with tears and they trickled down her temples into her hair. "My head hurts," she said finally.
"You got walloped pretty good. The entire Chamber of Secrets fell on you." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Luna tread softly over to the door, and go in search of the healer.
He reached out and stroked the back of her hand. "I'm so glad you're okay," he said softly. She continued to look at him, as if she wasn't really sure who he was.
"Voldem - is he - is he - ?" she stammered weakly.
"You got him," Ron said proudly. "You and Harry." Hermione shook her head.
"It was Harry. Harry did it. I brought him the sword." Her sentences were fragmented, and came out of her mouth in a disconnected fashion.
"He couldn't have done it without you," Ron said confidently, brushing her hair back from her forehead with one large hand.
"Harry?" she asked again, as her eyelids started to flutter closed. Her hand groped around on the bedsheet, but she did not find what she sought. "I want Harry." Her last words slurred, as she fell asleep.
Ron was amazed at the stab of jealousy that sliced through him. This is ridiculous! Of course she wants Harry. They've just been through this incredible ordeal together. She wants to know if he's okay. She'll calm down once she's assured herself that he's fine.
But he continued to look pensively at her, long after the healers had come and examined her, and had gone again.
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Ron was hovering outside the door several hours later, when his mum finally emerged from Harry's hospital room. She was dabbing tears from her eyes with an old lacy handkerchief, and Ron's own eyes filled with horror.
"Harry? He's not - ?" he began.
"No, no, dear," said Mrs. Weasley in a tear-choked voice. "They think he's going to be fine. It took them this long to get him stable. He'd gone into shock from the pain." Ron looked gravely at his mother.
"What happened to him?" Mrs. Weasley looked hesitant, but Ron persisted. "Mum, tell me please."
"He had a three broken ribs, a broken jaw, a broken foot, and his legs…" she shook her head in disbelief. "What that monster did to his legs…" Ron looked at her blankly. "It looks like he used `Reducto' on both of Harry's knees…probably blew them right out from under him. They're not even sure they can fix it."
"And he still managed to kill Voldemort…" Ron breathed, unable to process what he had just heard. "Hermione said … Hermione said Harry did it."
"How is she doing?" Mrs. Weasley asked tenderly, laying one hand maternally on Ron's arm.
"She awakened a few hours ago, mumbled some stuff that didn't make a lot of sense. But she did ask if Voldemort was dead, and said that Harry had done it, after she brought him the sword."
"Those poor dears…" Mrs. Weasley sighed, and then shot a surprisingly sharp look at Ron. "Has Ginny talked to you yet?"
"A little…back at Hogwart's. She seemed pretty upset, what with having to go into the Chamber…finding Harry in that condition, and all. She said Harry must have cast a Protego around Hermione, without his wand." He shook his head in amazement. Mrs. Weasley watched him carefully.
"Yes, it looks like that was one of the last things he did. The healers said his magical reserve has been completely emptied…he must have cast wandlessly more than once, and to do that, under those conditions! We're not sure when he sustained most of the other injuries; they could have been caused when the ceiling caved in. But the leg injuries were definitely spell-cast. Did you see Hogwarts shake when the Chamber caved in? We found Draco Malfoy stunned in the bathroom, and the door to the Chamber open. So …we went down there."
"Mum, Voldemort could have been down there!" Ron exclaimed.
"Yes, well," Mrs. Weasley said, in a "but, he wasn't" sort of way. "Minerva met us in the corridor, and said that someone had removed Gryffindor's sword. She remembered when it was used in the Chamber of Secrets last time, and that you three had been looking at it. It was also around then that Professor Snape was found collapsed at the entrance of a secret passageway into Hogwart's. Fred and George said it connects to the Shrieking Shack?" This was a question directed at Ron, but he had fixated on her previous statement, and did not answer her.
"Snape?" Ron sounded furious. "What have they done with him?"
"He's been taken into custody at the Ministry. So has Draco Malfoy, I believe. There was some blood and signs of a struggle in the cellar of the Shrieking Shack." She pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Harry and Hermione have a lot of questions to answer when they wake up."
"Can - can I see him?" Ron asked tentatively.
"I suppose," his mother answered. "Although I'd check with Healer Munson first." She gestured down the hall where a doctor sat at a desk, dictating to a quill that was scrawling notes rapidly into a file. "I think he's had a good amount of potion pumped into him…to keep him from feeling anything…" she added warningly.
Ron received reluctant permission from the Healer, and stepped quietly into Harry's room. He lay utterly motionless, his puffy, disfigured face coated in some kind of healing salve that seemed to be reducing the discoloration and swelling. His legs were both encased in the same kind of shimmery restraint that had surrounded Padma Patil's leg in the hospital wing at Hogwart's. There was some kind of silvery tape across his hand, and at intervals, one of seven different potions puffed up through a tube and entered his body through the medical tape. Ron watched this for awhile in some fascination, trying to remain distant from the situation, trying to refrain from taking in the fact that his best friend lay there, severely injured.
"Harry…" Ron said, and his voice carried a note of chagrin…a "how do you get yourself into these situations?" tone. "You've done it again, you know. You're a bloody hero. Going to have to wake up, or the bloody press will beat your door in with bludger bats…while kissing your arse as the need arises of course." He stepped closer to Harry's bedside. One of the little machines on the table by the bed, beeped and whirred, and another potion amphora puffed some of its contents upwards through the clear tube. "Besides, Hermione's been asking about you, and you know how she gets…" He would have continued in a similar vein, but he paused, thinking he had seen some kind of response. "You saved Hermione's life, you know. You at least owe her a chance to say thank you in person." He stopped again, and realized that he had not imagined it. Harry's lashes had fluttered.
"Mi - one," he breathed, his words garbled and barely understandable through the tenderness of his newly healed jaw. "She - issh….she?" He opened his eyes then, just a little, as if even that effort was too much for him.
"She's going to be okay. She got a nasty knock on the head, but if you hadn't cast that Protego…" Ron reassured him, although he was unsure as to how much Harry was really able to understand. The green eyes peered at him, discerningly, penetratingly.
"Ronnn…" he said, in a tone of recognition.
"Yeah, it's me," Ron said, trying desperately to sound casual. "I'm fine and Ginny's fine…"
Something flickered and shadowed in Harry's eyes, when Ron mentioned Ginny's name. Ron was instantly sorry he'd said anything, knowing he shouldn't be upsetting Harry for any reason.
"I shouln't….shun't have…I told her…" Harry reached his arm out, trying to grasp at Ron's sleeve, but failed.
"Harry, it's all right, mate," Ron replied, growing a little alarmed. "You can tell Ginny later. I'm sure she'll be by."
"N - No," the word tore from Harry unevenly, and his chest rattled when he took another breath. "Not … not Ginny. Told her… shun't have…shun't have…" Ron took a step back from the bed, wondering if he should perhaps alert Healer Munson.
"I'm sorry, Harry. I guess I should go and let you rest."
Harry looked at him with bleak frustration, and dropped his arm back to the mattress weakly. He tried to shake his head in protest, but was unable to do that either.
"I'll come back later, Harry. I promise. Maybe Luna can come too." Ron all but fled the room then, uncertain and a little terrified at this new Harry…this wounded, vulnerable Harry who spoke in fractured words and whose body could not obey his commands. At the same time, Ron felt a little disgusted with himself for fleeing. Where is my vaunted Gryffindor bravery? he wondered.
As he opened the door, he thought he heard Harry speak softly, although the soft squeak of the hinges made it difficult to understand.
"Didn't mean to…"
"Healer Munson," Ron called out as soon as the door shut behind him. "Harry was awake and talking…sort of…I think he got a little upset. Should you - ?" But the Healer had disappeared quickly into Harry's room, before Ron even finished his sentence, leaving the third member of the Trio standing out in the corridor, lost, alone, useless.
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When Hermione awakened the next morning, her room was empty. The chair in the corner bore a wrinkled, mashed cushion, so she reckoned that someone had been in here until relatively recently…most likely, Ron. She lay still as she did a kind of self-inventory, finding only that she was incredibly stiff and sore, and that she had an unbelievable throbbing ache in her head.
Some of her movement must have activated the wards around her bed, because two healers and a mediwitch entered her room in short order.
"How are you feeling, Miss Granger?" The wizard whose nametag identified him as Healer Munson said briskly.
"I'm - I'm okay," she said hesitantly. "My head hurts."
"What's the last thing you remember?" he asked gently, as they scanned her with their wands, and conferred over readouts. Hermione's eyes grew shadowy.
"V - Voldemort cast Avada Kedavra at me, but he missed…he hit the ceiling because Harry had - Harry stabbed him with the sword…and - and then everything fell…" she trailed off, seeming suddenly distant. Her eyes then widened frantically, and she clutched at the sheet with one hand. "Where's Harry? Where is he?"
"Miss Granger," Healer Munson said in a calm voice. "It is very important that you not excite yourself. Please stay calm." Hermione's eyes were darting wildly from one impassive official face to another.
"Tell me where he is! Is he okay? Is he okay? I want to see him." Her voice was just this side of panicky.
"Miss Granger - " Healer Munson began again, but was interrupted by Ron bursting into the room. The door slammed up against the wall, and bounced closed behind him.
"What's going on?" he asked in a disarming way, considering his noisy entrance.
"Where's Harry? Is he all right? They won't tell me."
"He's doing as well as can be expected," Ron said carefully, a guarded look on his face that Hermione did not miss. Hermione winced, lost in memory, and knotted her fists up into the bedsheet.
"Voldemort used a reductor curse on his legs. He - he screamed - I've n - never heard anybody scream like that before. And he still…he pulled himself over to me - put himself in between me and Voldemort…He was already hurt. Malfoy pushed him down the stairs in the Shrieking Shack…" she rambled and trailed off, staring at nothing, while a solitary tear wended its way unnoticed down her cheek.
Ron noticed Healer Munson jotting down a few notes. He knew everyone had questions about what exactly had occurred in the Chamber. The director of St. Mungo's was nearly at her wits' end with the throng of reporters camped out in the main lobby of the hospital.
"Shouldn't she be sedated?" Ron asked quietly. "It can't be good for her to be reliving this stuff."
"I will not be sedated, Ronald Weasley," Hermione said mutinously, her chin jutting out. She turned her attention back to the healer, looking at him pleadingly. "Please, can I just see him…just for a moment?"
"I'm really not comfortable with your being up and out of this bed," Healer Munson said slowly. "It hasn't been that long since we fully repaired your skull fracture. You appear to be without lasting damage, but we cannot be certain…it's too early to - "
"If I carry her in there…for just a moment…just so she can satisfy herself as to his condition…will that be okay?" Ron cut in to ask. The look Hermione turned to him was radiant, breathtaking.
"Ron…" she said gratefully. The healer looked from one teenager to the other doubtfully.
"I suppose that would be acceptable. Need I stress that it is to only be for a moment?"
"Only a moment, yes sir," Ron nodded.
"Miss Granger, please let us know immediately if rising causes you any pain, dizziness, or nausea," the healer cautioned, as he exited the room, with the other healer. The mediwitch began refilling some of Hermione's amphorae.
"You ready?" Ron asked gently, and, at her nod, he scooped her up into his arms, amazed at how light she felt.
"Do not drop me," she said authoritatively into his shoulder, sounding so much like her normal self that Ron laughed. If he hadn't been relatively sure that Healer Munson was going to keep at least one wary eye on them, he might have pretended he was going to drop her, just to make her yell at him.
"Where's Luna?" she asked curiously, as the mediwitch held the door open for them.
"She went down to the Quibbler to talk to her father. The reporters are foaming at the mouth for information, and he's lucky enough to have an inside source. McGonagall and Lupin weren't telling them anything at all, until the rumors started going around that Harry was dead - " Ron stopped abruptly, looking like he wished he hadn't said that. He felt Hermione tremble a little in his arms.
"Is it - is it really that bad?" she asked vaguely. Ron didn't know if she was talking about the reporters or about Harry, but he chose to answer as if she were asking about the former.
"The waiting room is mobbed. They actually installed a special floo for Order members, because people were tired of getting bombarded every time they came in. You and Susan and Harry have been up here, and the whole floor is guarded by Aurors. Harry's going to bloody well hate it, but he'll have to give a statement when he…" he trailed off again and sighed slightly.
Hermione looked at him discerningly, as they arrived at Harry's door. "This has been really hard for you, hasn't it?" Ron looked away from her self-consciously.
"I wasn't critically injured. I'm fine. And Luna's been great. She -" he stopped, and something like guilt danced across his face. He shrugged. "I was a little lost without the two of you… she's been a big help."
Hermione looked vaguely troubled, and Ron wondered if she was upset with him for spending time with Luna. In actuality, she was thinking of Harry, of kissing him in the forest that night, of what he'd been on the cusp of saying to her, even in front of Snape and Malfoy, and of what that would mean to them all.
"He looks pretty bad," Ron said in warning, as he opened the door.
Even with the notice, tears still sprang to Hermione's eyes when she saw him. He looked so pale and still laying in that bed, with wards whirling and beeping around him.
"Has he…regained consciousness at all?" she asked, as Ron gently stood her on her feet next to the bed, with a question on his face. She nodded. "I'll be okay," she replied, looping her fingers around the metal bedrail for help standing.
"He woke up once, when I was in here," Ron answered her previous question. "He knew who I was. Seemed to remember what had happened. He was very worried about you." Hermione smiled a little, and looked down at her feet.
"I guess I was unconscious the last time he saw me." Ron wondered momentarily at the look on her face. He had seen it before, but where? He couldn't put his finger on it.
"I mentioned Ginny, and he got a little upset, though. He kept saying that he'd told her something - or hadn't told her something that he meant to - I'm not sure which…but he kept saying he shouldn't have." And he watched in amazement as Hermione colored violently. "Hermione, are you okay?"
"I'm - I'm fine," she said faintly. "I guess I should go lie down." She leaned down toward Harry, and ran her fingers loosely through his hair. "Wake up soon," she whispered. "We miss you." Harry shifted slightly, and his eyes moved blindly beneath their lids, but he did not wake.
Ron watched, feeling uncomfortable, and feeling ashamed that he was. He watched Harry, lying so still, looking so different from the agitated Harry he'd seen earlier. He shouldn't have… he shouldn't have what? Did he say something to upset Ginny? Is that why she wouldn't come with me? He shook his head to himself; he was making much of nothing; it was probably just the ramblings of a battle-weary, pain-fatigued mind.
Not Ginny. The thought struck him suddenly like a bolt from the blue. He had mentioned Ginny, and Harry had corrected him…not Ginny. Then who…?
Ron's gaze fell on Hermione again, who was leaning over the rail, whispering something to Harry that he could not hear. And the look on her face…he recognized it suddenly with blinding clarity. It was the look Harry had gotten whenever Cho was around fourth year. The look Ginny had for Harry. A shining, yearning look…a look that one gets knowing that love is impossible, and yet loving someone anyway.
Ron took an involuntary step away from Hermione, as if he could get away from the sudden pain in his chest. He wanted to be angry, jealous…but how could he be jealous of Harry? He was their hero, their savior, their best friend, their - his and Hermione's - Harry. The most he could muster up was hurt and … yes, hurt. That was it.
Hermione looked up at him then, and smiled sweetly at him. "I'm ready to go back now. Pretty tired, actually." She dashed one hand across her forehead, and laughed a little at herself. "Don't you dare tell that healer that he was right!"
"My lips are sealed," Ron said, with a laugh that rang hollowly and falsely to him. He picked her up again, and the ache in his chest tightened at the feel of her next to him, clinging to him. He wondered if she even realized it yet. He wondered if she would tell him when she did.
When she did…not if.
"Bye, Harry," Hermione whispered, waving a little at her other best friend. She pressed her lips together in a tight line, willing herself not to cry.
"We'll be back again, mate," Ron said, in a hearty voice, as if expecting Harry to reply, "All right? See you then."
Hermione was silent, troubled, lost in her own thoughts, as Ron carried her back down to her room. Ron watched her profile, wondering what she was thinking. Was she wondering what she could have done differently? Was she reliving the nightmare of Voldemort hurting Harry?
"Ron, thank you for…" she nodded her head back toward Harry's room. "I…needed to see him." She sighed, and leaned her head on his shoulder. "I hope he's going to be okay."
"He's getting the best care that the wizarding world has," Ron said, mustering up a confident tone.
"I know…" she sighed.again. Ron opened her door, and gently set her back on her bed, tucking the sheet around her, as tenderly as Molly Weasley could have done.
"You want something to eat? I could nip over to the mediwitch's station and see what they could bring you." Hermione smiled at him, and Ron felt again like she was seeing something else that he could not see.
"That would be nice, Ronald. Thank you." And she meant more than for just the food. Ron knew it. He smiled back at her, sitting in her bed, somehow appearing both frail and strong at the same time. Something protective welled up inside him, and the ache in his chest intensified. Harry? And Hermione? He thought in amazement.
"Anytime, Hermione," he said. "Be right back."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Three days later, Harry woke up…really woke up. And the entire hospital was in an uproar. Ron had found out on the way back from the cafeteria as he and Luna were carrying a tray back up to Hermione. They had passed his father, standing in the corridor fending off reporters.
"He will give a statement as soon as he is able. Have mercy, you lot! He's only just awakened."
Ron and Luna had exchanged glances of amazement and excitement, and had fled upstairs to tell Hermione. They had run into Lupin on the way up; he was on his way to Harry's room, to be there when the healers spoke with him.
She was sitting with her bed partially inclined, her hair twisted up on top of her head, with a book and a roll of parchment on her lap. An ink bottle and quill sat on the table nearby. When her friends burst into the room, she looked up at them, a smile wreathing her face. Ron stood in the doorway, something so unexpected and amazing and right about Hermione reading and taking notes that he wanted to hug her on the spot.
"Bloody hell, Hermione. Didn't you know that McGonagall shut down Hogwarts for the next three weeks?"
"All the more reason not to fall behind," Hermione said mechanically, but she looked at him a little slyly and her eyes twinkled. Luna nudged Ron in the side, in a very unsubtle way.
Ron's eyes lit up as he remembered why they had come up there in the first place.
"Harry's awake," he blurted without preamble. Hermione came alert so quickly that her parchment coiled up on itself and fluttered off of her bed. She didn't even notice.
"Is he all right?"
"Lupin said he's going to need a lot of work on his legs, and he still hasn't enough strength to do any magic. But he's going to be okay."
Hermione let out a shuddering breath, as if she'd been holding it for the past three days. "Good," she said in a deliberately understated way. But not before Ron had seen the shining look flit across her face again, albeit briefly.
He hoped it would get easier to see after a while.
TBC
Thanks for all the great reviews on the previous chapter. I really was unsure about the battle scene, so the reviews were all read and duly squee-d over.
You can leave another review on your way out, if you'd like. I won't mind.
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