A/N: These next two chapters were, actually, originally three or four different chapters. After a very long process, I managed to find a way to divide those three to four chapters into two different chapters. That being said, I'm not entirely sure this flows very well, as I've read over it too many times to have a fresh view of it myself. Please feel free to ask any questions where things get confusing!
Chapter Thirty-Four
"Dreadful weather we're having, isn't it?" commented a very damp Healer Pruitt as he ducked into the foyer, pulling a face and looking out at the sheets of rain pounding onto the grassy backyard. Hermione smiled and shut the front door.
"Oh, I don't know," she said, "my family is making the most of it."
He chuckled.
"So I noticed," he said, "when they managed to splash a pail of water all over me."
"Oh, Healer Pruitt, I'm terribly sorry!" Hermione apologized, "I thought I made it clear to the boys--"
"Oh, it wasn't the boys, they've been very good," said Healer Pruitt dryly, "it seems the girls have picked up a bit of a mischievous streak-- don't look so embarrassed, Miss Granger, it's all in good fun."
"I did tell them that they were only allowed to splash each other, all the same," said Hermione firmly, "Just a moment; I should call them in..."
"You'll do nothing of the sort, Hermione," said Healer Pruitt, staying her hand. "I believe I was the one to splash Katy first. She only responded in kind."
He paused and chuckled.
"Very cleverly, too, if I do say so myself. Is that a pulley she's constructed in that tree? And out of bits of string and tins? Quite resourceful."
He shrugged off his cloak and dried himself off with a flourish of his wand. Waving the resulting steam away, he went on, "I hope my late notice didn't inconvenience you? I know you've been busy--"
"Not at all," Hermione said, taking his cloak from him and hanging it up on one of the hallway hooks, "I decided to let the children have a break from their lessons. They've been inside quite a bit recently; I thought they would enjoy a little holiday."
She paused, and admitted, "And I needed some time to relax as well."
"Nothing to be ashamed of," Healer Pruitt said, as she ushered him into the kitchen, "given your schedule. And now that we've approached the subject-- the reason for my visit. May I sit down? Thank you."
He sat down at the kitchen table. Hermione took the seat across from him, looking attentive and curious. He smiled.
"I've been looking over your work recently. Don't look alarmed; it's excellent work," he assured her hastily, and she relaxed. "And the ground we've covered just in a course of a year! In all honesty, Miss Granger," and here he leaned forward, "you are several months ahead of the trainees at St. Mungo's-- and here again, I must be honest. I have set this rapid pace myself; I wished to test your dedication to the course you have chosen. When I first agreed to train you, I must admit I had my doubts. It's rather rare, in my experience, for a young witch or wizard to be completely set on a career-- many times, they change their minds when presented with a difficult course that would allow them to fulfill their original aspiration. You are, I'm pleased to report, quite an exception to the rule."
"Thank you," she said, looking flustered as he smiled at her, "thank you very much."
"That being said," he said, "I know we've agreed to postpone your lessons until after your wedding-- which, if you haven't received my owl, I will be attending, and most happily, thank you for the invitation-- but... well, first, let me ask you. How have you felt about the pace of study? Too rigorous?"
"Oh, no, I've enjoyed it!" Hermione said earnestly, "I really have, and it's been very useful recently--" she stopped abruptly, biting her lip as if she had said something wrong. Healer Pruitt pretended not to notice.
"And it hasn't strained your family?"
"Not at all," Hermione said truthfully, "in fact, I think Jackie finds it fascinating."
"Oh?"
"Yes," Hermione said, smiling fondly, "I think Potions appeals to Jackie-- it looks very much like a recipe-- which is more than I can say for her father."
Healer Pruitt laughed.
"I must say even my skills at the cauldron have failed to translate to the stove." he said, noting with delight the ease with which Hermione referred to Harry as Jackie's father. He paused, remembering the second reason for his visit. "Healer Smitt would like to have a meeting with you. Only recently news has gotten out about what you've done for these children, and already St. Mungo's has received letter upon letter calling for reform for children without homes."
"Oh, has it?" Hermione looked surprised. "Well, thank you for passing that along; I'll be sure to owl her soon."
"But Hermione," Healer Pruitt said, trying to redirect the conversation, "I have to wonder if you haven't taken too much on-- which is why I wanted to discuss your training with you. Perhaps we ought to slow it down a bit...?"
"For a little while," Hermione agreed, "until the wedding's over and everything has settled. But not too much, Healer Pruitt, I'm sure I'll be fine."
He sighed.
"I don't want you to neglect your other duties, Hermione, and it concerns me."
"Well, let it concern you no longer," she said firmly, but kindly, "My family is my first priority, Healer Pruitt, and I would tell you if I thought my training hindered us from being happy. Besides," she said playfully, "who would sneak the children sweets every Monday if we stopped?"
"Sweets?" Healer Pruitt said innocently, "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about."
"Of course," she said, grinning, "of course you don't."
He shook his head.
"I don't know how you've done it," he said with a sigh, "covering so much material with only five lessons a week."
"I have a good memory," Hermione said modestly, "it's quite useful for studying. And of course good time management," she added, glancing at the clock, "which Harry has yet to learn."
As if this had jogged her memory somewhere, she looked back at her tutor and said, rather casually, "You wouldn't happen to know of a good book on poisons, would you, Healer Pruitt?"
"I'd say I've given you the best and most acclaimed resources," he said, mimicking her casual tone. He cast her a significant look that let her know he hadn't fallen for it. "Why? Did one of the children run into a snake lately?"
"Not one of the children, no," Hermione murmured with a rueful look. In a more normal tone of voice, she said, "I've read through the books you gave me earlier this year, and-- well, I was wondering about the... lesser-known venoms, ones that might result from-- cross-breeding."
He noted the pink creeping across her cheeks and smiled wryly.
"I'll have a look when Harry gets home," he said, and smiled again when she looked defensive and relieved all at once. "You're a terrible liar, Miss Granger, I do hope you realize that. What exactly has that rascal of a husband-- I beg your pardon, fiance-- gotten himself mixed up in?"
"Nothing illegal," she quickly reassured him.
"Something dangerous, no doubt," he said carefully.
"Perhaps a little," she said evasively. At that juncture, Healer Pruitt gave up. There was little point in pressing the matter. So he simply sighed, signaling his defeat, and redirected the conversation once again.
"And how have the wedding plans been coming?"
"Rather well," she said, brightening, "but I won't be sad to see them go."
"You have... let's see-- how many weeks?"
"Six weeks," she said immediately. When he chuckled, she blushed and smiled sheepishly.
"No need to look embarrassed," he said kindly, "you've been very patient."
"Less than that, I'm afraid," she confessed, twisting her ring around her finger-- as she was wont to do recently, Healer Pruitt thought in amusement, usually with an uncharacteristically absent, dreamy expression on her face. "I... well, I'm ready to be married, that's all."
"If only all were so fortunate," Healer Pruitt commented ironically.
"Half the time I think you bring up the wedding just so you can tease me, Healer Pruitt," she said, sounding exasperated and blushing yet again. He smiled.
"Quite right," he said, "But you are an unusual case, as I said before-- you are earnestly pursuing a career in Healing (which is, I'm sure you realize, a difficult course in itself), and yet... you haven't hesitated to dedicate yourself to a family. The two seldom go together."
"Or so it used to be," she said reasonably, "things have changed."
"My time isn't half as far away from today as you think it is.," Healer Pruitt said, accepting the glass of water she offered him, "even today, the convention remains: young witches choose a family or a career, not both. There are, of course," he said, raising a hand, "notable exceptions, but mark my phrasing well-- notable exceptions. I would say the vast majority of our female leaders have chosen to remain single, or at least childless."
"But even for the average witch and wizard, things are changing," Hermione said, "they already have, in the Muggle world."
He smiled.
"And that is one of the advantages of being Muggle-born, Miss Granger. Non-magical society has much to offer us. Indeed, I often think wizards who have been raised in the Muggle world come to us with an astonishing level of ingenuity that comes only from having been without-- and consequently, independent of-- magic."
He paused and chuckled.
"I rarely have so rapt an audience," he commented, "it seems I've distracted you... wasn't that the door?"
Hermione leaped to her feet, rushing eagerly out of the kitchen to the front door. Healer Pruitt rose from his chair, standing in the kitchen doorway and looking fondly at the scene unfolding before him.
Hermione had her arms looped around Harry's waist as he kissed her forehead and brushed his thumb across her cheek. Soon a wet blur of fur bounded into the kitchen, closely followed by a stampede of drenched and laughing children. Rain streamed in from the doorway as a gust of wind slanted the rain's course, and a sheepish Adrian pushed the door hastily closed. Amid a crowd of chattering, laughing children, Harry and Hermione held each other tightly, her arm around his waist and his around her shoulder. There they stood, listening attentively to tale after tale of Jack and Adrian's rainstorm escapades, Harry dripping wet and leaving a puddle of water on the floor.
Suddenly, someone tugged on Healer Pruitt's sleeve. It was an apologetic Katy, her red braids dark with water, her cheeks very pink from her play. She raised blue-green eyes up at him, tucking her foot behind her ankle nervously. "I'm sorry I dumped that water bucket on you, Healer Pruitt. I know I shouldn't have, but-- well, you did splash me first!" The last sentence, spoken in an indignant voice of someone calling for a fair trial, was cut off by a gasp. Katy had clapped her hand over her mouth, looking apalled that the thought had escaped her lips. "I'm sorry again-- I shouldn't have said that. Oh my goodness." She swallowed. "I'm sorry."
"No need to apologize," he said warmly, "and you're quite right to accuse me, Katy. I did splash you first. You were quite justified in splashing back."
She smiled abashedly.
"Well, you are a grown-up." she pointed out, tugging at a braid and looking furtively behind her. Healer Pruitt saw Hermione smile reassuringly, and she looked back, still pulling gently at her braid. "And an important one, too. A teacher."
"I'm not half as important as all that," he said, chuckling, "now why don't you go and let your mother dry you up?"
She blinked, and then a brilliant smile illuminated her pink face.
"I suppose she is now, isn't she?" she murmured, her eyes flashing from bright blue to sea-green. "My mother, I mean... Mama!"
"Don't run, Katy, you'll slip and break something--"
"I broke my arm once," Yasmine put in conversationally, as Katy stood stock still in front of Hermione. "I was trying to jump from the swing set right onto the monkey bars, and I almost did it, too, but then the monkey bars transfigured into a different shape (it did that, you know, every five minutes, as long as there was no one on it) and I fell. Healer Smitt healed it right away, though, and it only hurt for a little while."
Hermione frowned suddenly, pausing in the middle of drying Katy off. She stooped and put a hand on Katy's forehead.
"Katy, are you feeling all right? You're trembling. Do you think you have a fever?"
"No, I'm all right, I'm perfect-- you don't mind, do you, if I call you... Mama, too, like Ben and Adrian?"
Hermione smiled and hugged Katy, wet clothes and all.
"Of course not, Katy-girl," she said softly, "In fact, I'd like that very much."
She tugged lightly at one of Katy's braids, laughing and kissing her forehead.
"Now let me finish drying you off," she said, "or you will catch a cold."
Katy beamed, and suddenly realized that there were tears falling from her eyes, warm like the rain, and when Hermione had finished drying her off, she noticed the tears too. Without a word, she smiled and opened her arms, and Katy threw her arms around her and smiled radiantly.
"Phew," Jack said, pinching his nose, "Gulliver stinks."
"No he doesn't," Jackie said loyally, hugging her friend and pretending not to notice the smell of wet dog that consequentally hit her nose. "You've hurt his feelings!"
"Here," Harry said, "move a little, Jack-Jack-- let me dry him off a bit."
Gulliver sat patiently amid the cloud of steam that followed Harry's drying charm, wagging his tail and nipping at the water curling up from his fur.
"There," Harry said, "dry as ever."
Gulliver panted happily.
"He said thank you," Jackie translated helpfully. Harry grinned.
"You're welcome, boy," he said, scratching Gulliver behind the ears.
"Why don't you all go to your rooms and change into something warm? Harry, Healer Pruitt has offered to look at that cut on your arm-- would you mind coming into the kitchen?"
As the children trooped dutifully upstairs, Harry and Hermione joined Healer Pruitt in the kitchen. Harry looked at Healer Pruitt warily.
"Er... if you don't mind me asking, Hermione-- how much does he know?"
"Very little," Healer Pruitt assured him, "only that your wife thinks it has to do with some sort of hybrid venom."
Healer Pruitt paused, as though waiting for some sort of correction. An oddly satisfied look crossed his face when none came.
"Yeah, Hermione mentioned that yesterday," Harry said, obediently presenting his arm to Hermione. "Makes sense, given... the-- er... nature of the creature."
"Oh?"
"Yeah." Harry said, without elaborating. He winced and glanced over at Hermione, who was gently unwrapping his bandaged arm. She felt his gaze and looked up, offering him a small smile. After a moment she looked away and put the bandages aside, motioning for him to show his arm to the Healer. It was unusually swollen and had an unhealthy yellow hue to it.
"Hmm..."
After several minutes of examination, the Healer sat back in his chair, stroking his chin in intense thought.
"Certainly," he said at last, "this is quite unlike anything I've seen before. Have you had success with any antidotes, Miss Granger? I assume you've attempted to cure him."
"Nothing's worked completely," Hermione admitted, "Originally he couldn't move his arm."
"Oh?" Healer Pruitt stopped and pivoted smartly, staring at Hermione intently. "Well, then, that's a start. Which antidote did you use?"
Hermione flushed.
"The Temple Solution, sir," she said, very quietly. He raised his eyebrows.
"You are aware, of course, that the Temple Solution is considered out of date?"
"I was aware of that, Healer Pruitt," Hermione said, "but prior to that it was considered the most effective cures available. It is still the foundation on which many modern ones are based."
"Yes, I'll give you that," Healer Pruitt conceded. "Well, Miss Granger, it appears you and I have a dilemma on our hands."
She frowned, and a guarded look came across her face.
"I could insist that you take your wounded fiance to the hospital for proper examination," he said, "but I see this suggestion bothers you. Very well, then, as he seems to be out of immediate danger for the moment, I gather it has been left to you and I to solve this little mystery. If you don't mind, Mr. Potter, I believe Miss Granger and I have some work to do."
~*~
The moment Hermione walked into the kitchen, all thoughts of solving their `little mystery' were pushed to the back of her mind.
"What exactly--?"
"Hic."
"Yasmine has the hiccups." Katy scooped a spoonful of peanut butter out of the jar and offered it to a rather resigned Yasmine. "We read that hiccups are supposed to go away if you eat peanut butter."
"I- hic- I liked the sugar better." Yasmine made a face as she dutifully licked the peanut butter off the spoon.
Katy watched Yasmine's face intently, crossing her legs and gripping the edge of the kitchen chair. Hermione hid a smile.
"Hic."
Katy sighed and screwed the lid back on the peanut butter jar.
"Sorry, Yaz," she said, "I guess that one didn't work."
"It's-- hic-- it's all right," Yasmine assured her, "you -- hic-- you tried."
"They should go away naturally," Hermione said, taking the peanut butter from Katy, "if you can't find a cure."
"She's had them since Harry got here," Katy said dubiously, "Didn't you notice?"
"I haven't noticed much of anything today," Hermione admitted. "But I suggest you give the food cures up for now, girls; we're having dinner in a little under an hour."
Yasmine slid off the chair with another hiccup.
"Do you think-- hic-- Healer Pruitt might have a cure for..." she paused, her face brightening, "I think they may have st-- hic!"
Hermione clapped her hand over her mouth, stifling a laugh.
"I'm sorry, Yasmine," she said quickly, seeing the miserable look on her face. "It's just--"
"I-- hic-- I know." Yasmine smiled ruefully. "You can-- hic-- laugh."
Hermione put an arm around Yasmine and squeezed her kindly.
"I can ask Healer Pruitt," she promised, "I'm not sure even wizards have solved this little problem yet."
"Still?" Harry's voice said from just outside the kitchen.
Clunk!
"Ouch!"
"Harry, if you're going to carry Adrian on your shoulders, you ought to be more careful! "
"Hic!"
"That door frame is harder than it looks," Adrian informed Hermione as she stood on tiptoe and wiped chocolate off his cheek. "Mama, I can do that myself!"
"Certainly you can, Adrian," Hermione said dryly, "but left to your own devices, you never would."
"Hic."
"Try holding your breath and hanging upside down," Harry suggested to Yasmine.
"No, don't," Hermione said hastily, shooting Harry a look.
"It's what I've always heard," said Harry, bending to let Adrian off of his shoulders.
"Where did you get those ideas, Katy?" Hermione asked, shaking her head at Harry.
"Harry took us to the library today," Katy explained, "the librarian was very helpful."
"Well, good for Harry, and good for you," Hermione said, as Healer Pruitt hurried out of the workroom. "Well, Healer Pruitt, did the rose petals change anything?"
"I think you may have struck something," said Healer Pruitt excitedly, "Those petals have completely altered the nature of the solution; I never would have thought-- hello, Yasmine. A case of the hiccups, I hear?"
She nodded.
"Well, I'm afraid I can't help you there," Healer Pruitt said, looking at her apologetically, "Terribly annoying, aren't they? I'm going to have to take your mother back into the workroom with me-- Miss Granger?"
"Yes, of course." Hermione followed Healer Pruitt back into the workroom.
"What are they doing?" Adrian asked, patting Yasmine sympathetically on the shoulder and adding, evidentally trying to make her feel better, "Hey, Yasmine, if you want I could play my drums along with your hiccups; they're sort of like a drum beat--"
"No," said Yasmine, looking cross, "I-- hic-- just want them to go-- hic-- away!"
"They've got to go away sometime soon," Katy said bracingly, "come on, we can go play cards or something."
Adrian looked bewildered.
"What did I say?"
Harry shook his head. "She probably doesn't think her hiccups are very funny anymore. Hey, mate, why don't you and I start on dinner? That way Hermione'll have less to do."
"Can I use the knives?" Adrian said, brightening and hurrying to the sink to wash his hands."Besides, if I chop my finger off, there's two healers who can put it back on."
As it turned out, Harry and the rest of the kids ate without Hermione that night. It was nearly nine o'clock when Harry came back downstairs, having put the children to bed, and, seeing the table setting still untouched, put together two sandwiches and carried them into the workroom.
He could see them crowded around a cauldron in Hermione's little potions corner. Candles flickered in abundance around the room, so their excited faces were clearly in view.
"... and if we're right about this, Miss Granger-- good Merlin, I doubt you'll be a trainee much longer!"
The excited whisper carried across the workroom, and as Harry cleared his throat, Hermione replied, "The credit hardly belongs to me-- oh, Harry, you didn't have to--"
"That's all right," he said, handing her a plate, "take a break, Hermione. Here, Healer Pruitt, have a sandwich."
Flushed and animated, the Healer took the sandwich gratefully.
"I take it everything is going well here, then?" Harry said. Hermione and Healer Pruitt beamed with pride and stood aside to let him view their cauldron. Harry gaped at it.
"It looks like--"
"Amortentia!" Hermione and Healer Pruitt finished gleefully.
"But it isn't, Mr. Potter, it most certainly isn't!" Healer Pruitt said, looking almost as though he were about to burst into song. "Note the marked differences-- the way the smoke spirals, the flashes of color it exhibits when disturbed, the smell of the fumes..."
"Meaning..." Harry said, secretly puzzled by the implications of the discovery.
"Never mind," Hermione said quickly, "it's a bit confusing-- but in the end it means we've discovered a new sort of cure, a potent one if we're right-- it's extremely difficult to cure wounds inflicted by a venomous cross-breed. That's why the laws against cross-breeding are so severe."
"And you think you can cure my arm."
"We don't know for certain," Hermione said, looking at Healer Pruitt, "but we've taken careful notes of what we've done, and if it works, dozens of people may be allowed to leave St. Mungo's."
"How will you know if it works?" Harry asked.
"We test it," said Healer Pruitt. Hermione suddenly looked severe and concerned.
"Healer Pruitt, I--"
"...have no reason to worry," Healer Pruitt said soothingly, "I've been in this field for longer than you've been alive, Miss Granger, and I can assure you that-- even if this solution fails-- it will no more endanger your husband's health than a simple pepper-up potion brewed awry. Mr. Potter, your arm."
Harry looked at Hermione, and she nodded slowly, looking very pale.
"Now, Miss Granger, I think Mr. Potter would prefer that you administrate this particular procedure."
Hermione put down her plate on the workbench and washed her hands in the sink across the workroom. Returning, she gently took Harry's arm in one hand and dipped a cloth in the solution with the other. The cloth still steaming and smelling distinctly of rose, Hermione dabbed the tender wound on his arm with the cloth.
Harry set his teeth, bracing himself for some sort of sting or pain. None came.
He heard Hermione gasp and Healer Pruitt let out a cry of triumph. He looked down at his arm.
He flexed his arm and fingers.
"It's completely healed," he said, "looks like you've done it."
Hermione beamed and threw her arms around him, kissing Harry firmly on the mouth. Healer Pruitt was crowing in exultation, dancing in an undignified manner around the cauldron.
"You did it, you-- you-- genius!" Healer Pruitt was beside himself with joy, "Just wait until crusty old Healer Eli hears this, the scoundrel! The fellow never believed you capable of anything, and just given the chance, look what you've done!"
Hermione drew back, beaming at Harry. He grinned back, his heart swelling with pride.
"Well done, Hermione," he said, nuzzling her hair with his nose, "I may be a complete dunce when it comes to potions, but if this makes Healer Pruitt dance like that, it must be brilliant!"
She slid her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek against his chest, sighing and smiling.
"Yes, I suppose it is," she said, laughing, "I suppose it is."
It was later that night that Harry and Hermione were finally alone. Healer Pruitt had hurried off to the hospital, promising to "make sure we do everything properly". They were sitting at the kitchen table together, sipping at one last mug of tea and lost in their own thoughts.
It was one of the things Harry loved about their relationship. Hermione was perfectly happy to sit and think with him, and he never had to worry that he was boring her or disappointing her. She simply sat beside him, toying absently with his fingers with both of her hands.
"Hermione?"
They turned toward the kitchen door. Yasmine slipped into the kitchen and climbed into Hermione's lap.
"What is it, Yaz?" Hermione began, stroking her hair briefly. Yasmine raised desperate eyes to her and began to speak, but her words were cut off by a loud hiccup.
"Oh, dear," Hermione said, smoothing over a smile and putting her arms around Yasmine. "Your hiccups are still bothering you?"
Yasmine buried her face in Hermione's shoulder with an answering sniffle and, of course, another hiccup.
"Oh, Yaz-- don't cry," Hermione began to rock Yasmine gently back and forth. "They'll go away eventually."
"No, they hic won't!" Yasmine wailed, "I'll hic have hic-- hiccups forever!"
The tears had obviously only increased the problem, for Yasmine's sobs were being increasingly interrupted by a squeaky hic.
"You won't have them forever, Yaz. You'll just have to wait it out, all right?"
"I hic can't!" Yasmine sobbed, "I hic can't hic sleep!"
Hermione kissed away a tear streaking down Yasmine's cheek and cupped her chin in her hand.
"Would it help if you slept in my bed tonight, Yazzy?"
Yasmine's tears subsided at this suggestion. She looked at Hermione dubiously.
"You hic wouldn't mind my hic noise?"
"I slept in a tent with Ron Weasley for months," Hermione said, laughing, "if I can sleep with that terrible snoring for nearly a year, I'm sure I can manage your little hiccups. Go on upstairs. I'll be along shortly-- quietly!" she added as Yasmine slid off her lap and headed toward the stairs.
Harry got up.
"I had better be going, then," he said, putting his mug by the sink. Hermione rose and took his hands.
"I will see you tomorrow?"
He smiled and kissed her gently. "Of course. Around three. "
He laughed.
"If Yasmine's hiccups aren't gone by then..."
"Don't suggest it," Hermione said, "they'll be gone. They have to leave sometime."
He laughed again, trailing his fingers briefly across her cheek.
"Thank you for tonight, Hermione."
She smiled and caught his wrist in her hand, making his hand pause on her cheek.
"Thank you, Harry-- for everything."
Holding hands, they made their way to the living room. After one last kiss, Harry stepped into the fireplace and Flooed home.
Hermione stood alone in the living room for a moment. Contrary to her expectations, saying good-bye to him seemed to become harder and harder every time. She sighed, then turned and headed upstairs.
The whole house seemed dark, comfortably so, and as she crept into her room, a few beams of moonlight had found her window. She could see Yasmine snuggled into her bed, still hiccuping periodically, but looking comforted.
Hermione crawled into bed beside her, allowing Yasmine to nestle herself under her arm and rest her cheek on her shoulder.
"Good night, Yasmine," she whispered, "sweet dreams."
I hic love you, Mama," Yasmine murmured, then looked up quickly as if for permission. Hermione smiled and kissed her forehead.
"I love you too, Yasmine."
Moments later, both of them had fallen fast asleep.
Hermione was jerked awake by an unearthly howl and a loud squeal of terror. Her eyes bleary and narrowed in the sudden light, Hermione could feel Yasmine cowering under the covers, clutching at Hermione's leg in fear.
The howl had evidentally stemmed from a hairy, fanged creature now sitting quite comfortably beside Hermione on the bed. It wore a perpetually grotesque expression, somehow resembling a werewolf and vampire all at once. Hermione glared at it sternly.
The creature's expression never changed, and Yasmine's grip on Hermione's leg was almost unbearable. Hermione continued to glare, at a complete loss for what to say.
"So?" the creature finally said, in a very familiar voice, "Did it work?"
It reached out and threw back the covers, revealing a whimpering Yasmine.
"Hey, Yaz, did it work?"
"Jack!" Yasmine snarled, hiccuping at nearly the same moment. Before Hermione could say anything, Yasmine had thrown herself across the bed and ripped the mask off of Jack's head.
Jack grinned at the furious Yasmine, obviously proud of himself.
"If you scare someone, their hiccups are supposed to go away."
"Well, they hic didn't," Yasmine growled, "you hic made them hic worse!"
"What else did I hic do?"
Hermione seized Yasmine by the arms before she could tackle Jack.
"Jack, back to bed," Hermione said, "I know you were trying to help, but that was not the way to go about it. Where did you get that costume? No, don't tell me--" she said before he could reply, "George lent it to you."
"He gave it to me last week," Jack said, "but I didn't know what I was going to use it for until Yasmine got the hiccups. Not that she appreciated it or anything," he added pointedly.
"Yasmine, go to sleep," Hermione said sternly, "Jack, go back to bed. We'll talk about this later."
With a sigh, Hermione sank back into the bed. Just as she was dozing off, Adrian, Dusty, and Katy crowded into the room.
"I heard someone scream--"
"It sounded like Yasmine-- Yasmine? Are you all right?"
"I saw Jack coming out; it must have been Jack--"
"Mama!" howled Jackie from down the hallway. "Mama!"
"Merlin, Jackie," Jack was heard to shout from the hallway, "Stop that already!"
Hermione sighed, and eased out of bed to quiet Jackie, inwardly grumbling and chiding herself for complaining at the same time. Pausing in front of her bedroom mirror, she smiled with effort at her tired reflection. And it surprised her, how genuine that smile seemed even to her own eyes.
Glancing at the three children dozing in her vacated bed, she smiled again and turned away.
It was time for another day, she thought. And she was lucky, she reminded herself, that those words weren't weighed down in dread anymore.
A/N: For you medical personel out there, I apologize if I butchered any of the terminology. Even with research I was fairly befuddled. I'm more of an English/History sort of student. Science, while enjoyable as a class, is somewhat beyond me. I hope it didn't bother any of you.
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