The Worst Day Ever

bentheslayer

Rating: PG13
Genres: Romance, Humor
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 7
Published: 27/08/2008
Last Updated: 27/08/2008
Status: in_progress

It should have been the perfect day - Harry had finally decided to reveal his long-hidden feelings to Hermione. Little did he know what was in store for him . . .

Chapters

1. Didn't See That One Coming

1. Didn't See That One Coming

Author’s Note: Thank you to Lisa (poppy) for Beta-ing this for me. All characters belong to JK and I’m just shamelessly borrowing them.

The Worst Day Ever

Chapter 1 – Didn’t See That One Coming

Looking back on it, Harry decided that this couldn’t possibly have happened on a worse day.

The day itself had actually been going very well indeed, and a seemingly endless surge of excitement had propelled Harry around the castle from one lesson to the next. Things were finally changing for the better: it had been six months since Voldemort’s defeat, and the Wizarding population was beginning to recover. The mourning had passed, and people were smiling again. Hogwarts had been rebuilt and reopened, and Harry, along with Ron and Hermione, had returned to re-take their seventh year. Classes were going well and, without the continual threat of Voldemort hanging over everything, actually felt like they had a purpose.

That particular day had dawned crisp and clear, the grounds covered in crunchy red and gold autumn leaves, Harry’s favourite time of year. It was a Friday. There was a Hogsmeade visit the next day, and a Quidditch match on Sunday. He didn’t get a single question wrong all day and even earned Gryffindor some House Points for brewing a perfect cauldron of Scintillation Solution. But none of this was the reason for Harry’s good mood, or his excitement.

Today, he had decided, was going to be the day he finally told Hermione how he felt about her.

Oh, he was nervous, Merlin was he nervous. He had loved her for so long, quietly pined for her and wanted her for as long as he could remember. But now, finally, there was nothing to hold him back. No reason not to tell her. The thought of them together had given him the warm buzz that had carried him all day. He even had it all planned out: after the evening meal he would ask her to walk around the lake with him, something they did often - nothing unusual there. And when they reached the spot where they always stopped and talked about everything they’d done all day, he would tell her. It should have been perfect.

Harry had not planned on this.

- -

The smile he had worn all day was still on his face when he left the short meeting with the Ravenclaw Prefects. Lessons were finished for the day, which just left the evening meal and then . . . Harry’s heart skipped a beat as he thought about what he was going to do. His footsteps almost skipped along the carpeted corridor too. He waved absently at a portrait that hailed him as he went past, and he was just about to rummage through his bag for the Marauder’s Map when an anxious-looking Neville burst through a tapestry ahead of him, startling a painting of gossiping witches into screams. The look on Neville’s face made the smile on Harry’s disappear for the first time that day.

“Harry, there you are! I’ve been looking everywhere!”

“Neville, what’s wrong?” Harry asked, suddenly concerned.

“You’ve got to come quick,” Neville told him, panting heavily. His face was red and blotchy from exertion. “It’s Hermione; she’s in the Hospital Wing . . .”

Harry’s eyes widened and he felt a stab of fear, sharp and cold.

“What’s happened to her, Neville?” he said desperately.

“It’s Ron too . . . you’ll never believe it . . .”

Harry didn’t have time to register the baffled tone of Neville’s voice, as he was already off and running. His feet took him instinctively towards his goal as his mind raced, running through every terrible thought imaginable: had there been an accident? Was she hurt? Was she alive? He would feel guilty for not worrying about Ron later; for now, his only concern was Hermione. He tore through secret passageways, dodged around surprised students in the corridors and even vaulted right over the head of a particularly small first year until he finally burst through the doors of the all-too familiar Hospital Wing. He hadn’t known what to expect, but he certainly hadn’t expected this.

The pale sunlight filtered in through the tall windows. At the far end of the ward Ron and Hermione were sat on opposite beds, both facing the entrance. Harry’s immediate fears were assuaged, as physically they both seemed fine – he couldn’t see any cuts, bruises or burns, and they were both sitting up. But from the looks on their faces there was obviously something wrong: Hermione looked completely shell-shocked, her face drained of colour and her eyes wide, staring straight ahead but not really looking at anything. Ron looked absolutely livid, his face crimson and fists clenched, and his entire body seemed to be trembling with rage. Like Hermione, he too seemed to be staring straight ahead without really seeing anything. Behind them, Professor McGonagall was talking animatedly with Madame Pomfrey and Professor Slughorn. Ginny was sitting in a chair next to Ron’s bed, her expression half horror and half amusement. Luna sat on the bed next to Hermione, holding one of her hands and smiling serenely. She gave Harry a small wave as he entered.

“What’s happened?” Harry asked anxiously as he walked towards them, returning Luna’s wave. His gaze kept moving from Hermione to Ron and back again.

“Ah, Mister Potter,” said Professor McGonagall. “We find ourselves in a most unusual situation here. I must ask you to prepare yourself for quite a shock.”

“That’s an understatement,” Ginny snorted.

“Yes, thank you Miss Weasley.”

“I don’t understand,” said Harry, looking around wildly. “What’s going on, are they hurt? Why aren’t they talking?”

“We do not know whether it was an accident, or a prank-“

“A prank!” Madame Pomfrey screeched. “Whoever did this has gone too far for a prank!”

“Yes Poppy, I agree,” Professor McGonagall said severely, “however it does not change the fact that, unfortunately, Mr Weasley and Miss Granger have been subject to a very complex and difficult spell. The effects of which . . .”

“No!” Ron yelled suddenly, leaping up from the bed and turning to face them. “This is not happening! I REFUSE to believe this is happening!”

“Please try and be calm, dear,” Madame Pomfrey began, but was cut off by Ron’s furious yells. Even Slughorn took a step back and tried to place himself behind Professor McGonagall.

“CALM? CALM? HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO BE CALM?”

“Ron mate, what’s happened?” Harry asked, approaching his best friend warily. The tall red-head turned to him, and now that he was closer Harry could see there was more than just anger in his friends face. There was shock and disbelief too. But mostly anger.

“What’s wrong, Harry??” Ron asked incredulously, and then stalked towards him. Stopping inches from his face, he hissed “I . . . am . . . a . . . BOY!!!!”

Something clicked inside Harry’s head, and absolute horror dawned on him. Even though it was Ron’s voice that spoke, there was something about the inflection, the pronunciation. Harry knew that voice anywhere, even if it didn’t sound like it normally did. His fears were confirmed when he took a few steps towards Hermione and got a better look at her face. It was her beautiful eyes, the ones that had captivated him for so long, her beautiful face and mouth. But the shocked look was one he recognised well, having seen it so many times before. As if reading his thoughts, Hermione’s eyes swivelled to his, and she uttered a quick “Don’t want to talk about it mate.” Luna patted her hand affectionately.

Harry took one more look between his two best friends.

“Merlin’s pants.”

* * *