CHAPTER FIFTEEN
A/N - Thanks again for all the reviews I've been receiving, hope for more as ever. How will the aftermath of the duel affect the Trio's search for the last Horcruxes? Read on…
Hermione almost failed to notice as hours became days, and days became weeks. Three of them had passed, and her life had been taken over by a new, monotonous routine; wake up, wash and have breakfast, go to the hospital wing, check on Harry, read, catch up on research or summer homework, keep company any additional visitors for Harry (or David), get kicked out by Madam Pomfrey at around ten o'clock at night, have dinner, go to sleep.
Ron had been dealing with his grief differently; it had largely manifested itself as restlessness, and so Ron felt compelled to work it off. This gave him and a few other like-minded Gryffindors a chance for a few games of Quidditch, at least. The training sessions had been called off; more than half of the students had gone home for the summer. Yet almost all of the Gryffindors, and around half of the Ravenclaws, had remained behind. Once more it felt as if the school had become a tomb, and with Harry and David's demise always a possibility that threatened to be an accurate feeling.
Hermione knew that she didn't look her best; she didn't need people telling her that. It was more than the bags under the eyes, the flat hair, the slight lack of colour on her face; she didn't feel her best, either. She knew that she should know better; pining after her best friend, who could still die. Yet even surrounded by her friends, she still felt an overwhelming sense of loneliness, the likes of which not even a childhood spent more with books than friends could match…especially since David had been successfully revived.
That had been about five or six days ago; Hermione had given up counting. Because the potential for brain damage had been marginally less severe for him, the American healer had decided to try and bring him out of his coma. And…it worked. After the initial disorientation, David remembered what had happened. To his credit, his first concern was for Harry's well-being. Hermione was still angry, but kept it in check. Now, he was…well, Merlin only knows. Hermione had heard murmurings that as soon as he had been cleared and debriefed, David had been dispatched on some top-secret assignment.
Perhaps that had something to do with what had been happening in the wider world. Somehow, it seemed that Voldemort had caught wind of what had happened at Hogwarts; his minions were on the move. Death Eater sightings had been reported up and down the country; the Dark Mark seemed to be everywhere. Ministry squads had been stretched to their limits trying to control the situation, but there seemed to be no end in sight. With Dementor activity on the rise, as well as growing panic and unrest within the civilian wizard communities, the outlook was indeed bleak.
Knowing that she was going to go stir crazy if she sat there much longer, Hermione got up and planted a kiss on Harry's forehead before leaving the hospital wing.
As she started down the corridor, Ron emerged from one of the classrooms, slightly startling them both into a halt.
"Hey," Ron said.
"Hey," Hermione replied. She noticed the strange tenseness in Ron's voice much more than in her own, "what are you doing?"
"Practising," Ron said solemnly, "Luna reckoned it'd do me some good working alone for a while."
"Okay," Hermione said noncommittally, "is it?"
Ron shrugged, "I guess…it helps having some feedback, though."
"Yeah…" Hermione said, "Well, I'd better go get some food…"
She began to walk away.
"…Hermione?" Ron called after her.
She turned back reluctantly, "Yeah?"
"What's up?" Ron asked, edging closer to her.
"Nothing…just tired," Hermione said.
"Nah," Ron countered, "You haven't been right all week…probably longer."
"Look," Hermione said, feeling her heckles start to rise, "its Harry, isn't it?"
"Damn right," Ron said, mostly under his breath.
"And what is that supposed to mean?" Hermione demanded, her voice almost rising to a shout.
"You haven't been able to leave his side, ever since…"
"I can see you have…"
"I'm there everyday and you know it…"
"Some of us aren't so easily detached…"
"Piss off…I know what this is…"
"Why don't you enlighten me, then?"
Ron took a moment's pause. He didn't want to be wrong about this…
"You love him, don't you?"
Hermione's look of anger turned to shock; mouth-open, embarrassed. Ron's penetrating gaze read her eyes in an instant.
"Well…I…yes, of course I do. So do you!" Hermione tried to argue, clearly flustered.
"Not like this, come on! I'm not an idiot." Ron said seriously.
Hermione held her eye contact with Ron. Yet she could tell this was one argument she couldn't win.
Slowly she bowed her head, "Is it that obvious?" She mumbled softly.
Ron took another couple of steps closer, his tone softening, "Maybe, maybe not. I guess at the end of the day it doesn't matter…if that's the way you feel." The pause in Ron's voice, and the tone of resignation therein, spoke volumes.
Hermione lifted her face to his; her look had become apologetic, "I'm sorry, Ron…I just can't help it."
"Sorry for what?" Ron asked, much too quickly and forcefully to be a convincing display of ignorance.
"You know…" Hermione started.
"Don't," Ron cut her off, "Look, some things better not said, eh?"
Hermione nodded, "Will you be alright?"
"Yeah," Ron said breezily.
"You know, you and Luna…if I didn't know better…" Hermione teased, the relief visible on her face.
"Oh, not you as well," Ron said, grinning, "Look, she's growing on me, that's all I'm saying."
"Come have lunch," Hermione said, "you can tell me some more."
They started walking away towards the Great Hall together, talking and laughing. As Ron carried on, Hermione smiled to herself.
She really did love Ron…but as a friend.
* * * * *
That night, after Ron had forced Hermione to spend some time outdoors watching the Quidditch match he had arranged, they both had returned to the hospital wing. They had been there for around an hour as the time reached about 9pm; Ron was reading up on the legend of King Arthur (the Muggle version, for perspective), and Hermione was writing an article for Luna to forward to her father, for his magazine. It concerned the accident, and Hermione had made plain her wish for it only to be published if the Ministry were to leak what happened. So far, for the interest of security, the Minister had suppressed all knowledge of the `Potter-Adams situation', as it had apparently come to be known within the Ministry. But if news did break, in the inevitably pro-Ministry slant that would follow, Hermione wanted to be ready with a rebuttal.
Thanks mainly to Ron's presence, Hermione's general mood had improved. Maybe she had pushed Ron away when this first started, she had realised. Maybe that created a sense of guilt that added to her grief; admitting her love to Harry (or at least herself) while carrying the baggage of whatever Ron may or may not have been feeling…that would have been enough to drive anyone spare. Luna had eaten dinner with the two of them, and Hermione noticed the closeness between her and Ron…probably better than either of them did. She seemed to be good for him, Hermione decided. She absolutely adored him, and for Hermione's money she always had. Just up to Ron to get it through his dense skull…
Hermione's head twitched away from her parchment, towards Harry. Maybe it had been a trick of the light, a flicker of the candle, but she could have sworn she caught the faintest sign of movement…
She got up from her chair and edged over. Ron noticed, looking up from his book, "You alright?"
"Quiet," Hermione whispered, leaning over Harry, watching him carefully.
His left eye twitched.
"Woah," Ron exclaimed, "did you see…"
"Of course I saw," Hermione said, her gaze not leaving Harry's face.
She gently put a hand to his shoulder, nudging him, "Harry?"
She shook him again, "Harry? Can you hear me?"
Harry's eye twitched again.
A couple of seconds later, the corner of his mouth curled up.
Then the peaceful look on his face vanished as he seemed to grimace, as if in pain. His whole face contorted and screwed up as if grimacing.
His body started to shake.
"He's having a seizure!" Hermione jumped back, horrified.
"OI!" Ron shouted towards the matron's office, "GET OUT HERE!"
As Ron tried to pin Harry's shaking arms down by his sides, Madam Pomfrey burst out of her office. Immediately finding the source of the commotion, she all but ran over to Harry's bed.
"Out the way, out the way!" She ordered, pushing Hermione to one side. Immediately she pulled out her wand and ran it over Harry's forehead; the tip glowed red.
"What's happening?" Ron asked, as Harry's shakes began to turn to spasms.
"His brain's fighting the coma," Madam Pomfrey explained, flustered, "I'm going to have to try and bring him out of it."
"Wait, what do you mean `try'?" Ron demanded.
"Step well back, I need to work!" Madam Pomfrey shouted, "Wait outside, both of you!"
Hermione dragged Ron by the arm towards the door, as Madam Pomfrey frantically drew the screens around the bed.
* * * * *
From outside, both Ron and Hermione could only guess what was happening. Somehow, Professor McGonagall had caught wind of what was going on and had rushed in from her office, storming right past the two. They hadn't heard a peep out of Harry, only Madam Pomfrey barking instructions to the professor, who seemed to be assisting her in…whatever it was she was trying to do.
It had been about ten minutes, maybe fifteen, but the longest wait of both Ron and Hermione's lives. Had they not patched things up, the tension would have been all that more unbearable. It was one thing knowing that their best friend could die, but something else entirely knowing that it could happen within the next few minutes if something, anything, went wrong.
Oh Merlin, Hermione found herself screaming in her head for the second time that month, please don't let him die!
Just as she had finished her own unique form of prayer, they both heard it.
"ARRGGGHHHH!"
As one, they both darted for the doors and pushed through into the hospital wing.
Harry was awake, bolt upright, drawing in huge gulps of air as Madam Pomfrey checked him over. He looked badly shaken and pale, but it was a huge leap forward, as far as Hermione was concerned.
His head turned, and his green eyes found hers.
"Hey," He croaked roughly.
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