Magic and Misperceptions Chapter 7: The Ministry and St Mungo's
By addisonj
Beta: DeeMichelle!!
Disclaimer: The following story is based on situations and characters owned by J.K. Rowling, Jane Austen, and their publishers.
(A/N: Ginny's conversation about Hermione's attire similar to P&P Chapt 8.)
*******
Hermione Granger was excited.
She was thrilled. Her presentation to the Department of International Magical Cooperation was flawless. Their reception perfect. They asked pertinent questions, tried to poke holes playing devils' advocate, but overall it was like preaching to the choir as Muggles would say. It helped that Shacklebolt introduced her and said that the topic was timely and an indication of the vision and mission of the new Ministry of Magic under his watch. It also helped that the French Minister of Magic, Pierre Lacroix, sent an owl post to Ridley Algonquin, the head of the British Department of International Magical Cooperation, stating his utmost confidence in Hermione and that the Brits would get full cooperation from the French, as well as most of the continent (the Bulgarian Ministry of Magic knew Hermione as The-Girl-Viktor-Krum-Dumped, so there was sympathy vote.)
On that high, Hermione and her boss, Scamander, prepared for a potentially less cooperative audience, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, which encompassed not only the Wizengamot, but Aurors. The emphasis in this presentation would be changing wizarding laws to have more civil rights for magical beings and then enforcing them.
The meeting began inauspiciously enough. Scamander, Hermione, and Amos Diggory attended, assuming that more the merrier, representing a unified front from the Department of Magical Creatures Regulation and Enforcement. Scamander and Diggory were ecstatic, they had never presented to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement before (Hermione had noted what was obvious even to a non-Ministry employee-the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was on top of the pecking order of the Ministry at large. In France, it was the International Magical Cooperation, but in Britain it was Law Enforcement. And within Law Enforcement, the Aurors were the stars. Which department was on the bottom? Magical Creatures with the Centaur Liaison bureau dead last.)
That in mind, Hermione suggested that Scamander have some casual meetings with key players in the Law Enforcement department, just to feel them out and see if there were concerns that could be addressed prior to the meeting. She even kept a good luck charm that Luna pressed into her hand that morning.
"Here, Hermione, take this. It's a Wilding Hornfoot," Luna said at breakfast, handing to Hermione a small medallion.
"It's lovely, Luna. Is it a charm?" asked Hermione.
"In a way. It's for good luck. My mother did research on it while she was at Hogwarts."
"Oh thank you, Luna! I absolutely need it today! My stomach is all aflutter as well!" Hermione gave her dear friend a hug. "Wish me luck! Fingers crossed!"
"I don't understand these Muggle terms, but yes, what you said."
Hermione was headed out the door when her other flat mates, Lavender and Parvati, were headed into the breakfast nook.
"Late night?" Hermione asked, noting the darkened circles under their eyes; eyes that winced as the morning sun touched their faces.
"Ugh," was the reply from each while blindly groping for the coffee maker. With an ounce of sympathy, Hermione poured her friends mugs of coffee. Lavender sat at the table with her head in her hands, mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like "Never again" while Parvati seemed to be having difficulty moving her spoon from the sugar bowl to the coffee mug. Hermione did a quick spell to clean up the spilt sugar and direct the spoon to its correct position.
"Thanks, Her'," mumbled Parvati.
"Let me guess. Does this have anything to do with Quidditch players?" teased Hermione.
Groans ensued.
"I thought you were our friend. Go away! Leave us to die in peace," wailed Lavender.
Hermione waved her wand and some Hangover Potion floated out of the cupboard and landed in front of the two ill girls. Parvati, spoon now cooperating, was having difficulty opening the Hangover Potion bottle now. Hermione shook her head and did a quick wandless magic to loosen the top. She then moved to the table and gave each of them a light kiss on the head.
"I'm off, girls. Big meeting. If it goes well, let's go to Seamus' to celebrate!" smiled Hermione, forcing more enthusiasm than warranted. The effect was instantaneous and the ill girls groaned and waved her away.
"Never again! Never again! Didn't you hear me? I won't be mixing alcohols again!"
Hermione and Luna exchanged glances as the blonde witch moved to help the girls.
"Of course not. Let me help you with that. Good luck, Hermione. We'll find some way to celebrate if all goes well today. When I was young, we'd go out for ice cream," Luna said as she added more sugar to the outstretched mugs.
***
Back at the Ministry, Hermione was focused on the upcoming meeting, the desired outcome, and reviewing any possible objections, with practiced rebuttals. The Head of Law Enforcement, Lionel Montgomery, sat down with the heads of each of his departments. The overall impression he projected was a combination of boredom, ennui, and impatience. Hermione knew she had only seconds to grab their attention and hold on to it. She cleared her throat just as a group of young people in Auror robes came by, two of them stopping at the conference room.
"Hello, Montgomery. Is this the right place then?" Ronald Weasley asked. Just then he noticed his friend standing in the front of the room, looking puzzled. "Hiya, Hermione, you're here, too? How's Luna, by the way?"
"She's just fine, Ron. You're here for the Magical Beings presentation, then?" she asked, working to retain her poise and sound both confident and professional.
"I guess. Montgomery, why are we here? Hello, Scamander. Hey, Diggory." Nods and greetings circled around the table.
Hermione fought to keep her composure, especially when a second Auror entered the room. One with messy black hair and round spectacles.
Since the slight at the Puddlemere United gala, Hermione avoided really looking at Harry Potter. She just focused on her feelings of anger and disappointment at his very public snub of her. But here, in his well-fitting Auror robes, she really noticed him: his flat stomach, firm chest, muscular arms, strong jaw, and his eyes, powerful and bright, echoes of green jade surrounded by thick dark lashes.
Hermione tried to suppress a sigh. Since Viktor and Laurent, she was a sucker for dark hair, pale skin and strong features on a man. "Not handsome enough to tempt me," Hermione forced herself to remember the slight and his lack of seriousness when Shacklebolt brought him into their meeting weeks before. Forcing herself to forget what he might look in boxers …
"Harry, Ron, have a seat. I think this may be in your jurisdiction," Montgomery spoke, indicating that the two Aurors sit by him.
"Magical creatures?" Ron whined. "I'm not babysitting zoo animals."
"It's magical beings, Ron," Harry informed his friend. "But I agree with Ron, how does this affect our work capturing Dark Wizards?" he addressed his question not to Hermione, but Montgomery, who answered before Hermione could respond.
"These creatures could be our secret weapons in the fight against the Dark forces. Think of it, lads. Dark Wizards see non-humans as dirt. Totally underestimate them. They're an untapped resource, as we saw at the Battle of Hogwarts five years ago. With Miss Granger's proposal, we can make inroads in these communities and unite to defeat the darkness, to ensure it shall never rise again."
Hermione felt a rush of gratitude towards the minister. He got it. He understood, from his own angle of course, but he understood the importance of this work. She looked to see if his star Aurors got it as well.
Harry's eyes moved from Montgomery to hers and stayed fixed on hers. Hermione felt her gut suck in. His eyes were so severe, so serious, so intense. She swallowed, but stared right back, almost daring him to disagree. But he did not. He got it, too.
The meeting went fairly well from then on. Magical Law Enforcement members were known for their arrogance. It was a different atmosphere than the Department of Magical Creatures which felt more like a family reunion of pleasant future-retirees. By contrast, Magical Law Enforcement felt like a gathering of former Quidditch players (many were) who thrived on competition. The contrast could not be starker, and Hermione played to the strengths of her audience by barely mentioning her current department, and grabbing on to Montgomery's theme of how her work could assist them in ways prejudiced Death Eaters would never understand.It was a tough room, but Hermione felt she made inroads.
Through her presentation, Hermione noticed the actions or inactions of the two infamous Aurors. Ron was as expected, loose, distracted, but would perk up in key points. Otherwise, he just swivelled in his chair and doodled on his parchment.
Harry was a complete contrast to Ron. He sat quite alert with his usual scowl, yet Hermione knew she was getting through to him when his scowl was less deep than usual. He did glare at her throughout the entire meeting, even when Scamander was speaking or when others asked questions. Hermione was ready to slip Scamander a note asking if she had spinach in her teeth or a smudge on her cheek but then Harry did seem to start noticing that there were also non-Hermiones present at the meeting, to her imminent relief.
"That went well!" Scamander exclaimed after the last of the Magical Enforcement team exited the room, Montgomery pausing to shake hands and say "We'll be in touch. Let's have lunch, Scamander" to Scamander's glee ("I've never had lunch with Montgomery before!"). His enthusiasm made Hermione almost forget a small incident that happened as Harry exited.
Upon leaving, Ron had simply said, "See ya, Hermione" and waved in passing, whereas Harry paused in front of her, met her eyes and mumbled "Good job, Granger" so quietly that Hermione had thought for a moment that she dreamt the entire exchange.
***
The owl tapped on her window, disturbing Hermione's research. She was sitting on her bed in a rare quiet house. The party girls, forgetting the "Never agains" of the prior day, were out collecting badges from whatever Quidditch team was in town; they were looking forward to the World Cup to see if they could collect from teams all over the world. (Hermione wondered if they wanted to collect something else from Quidditch teams from all over the world, but she held her.)
It was a stranger owl who readily accepted her owl treats but did not wait for a response. She unrolled the parchment, read the messy script and gasped.
Hermione-
Luna at St Mungo's. Come immediately.
-Ron
Focusing only on the note, she grabbed her ever-ready book bag, scribbled a quick note to her housemates so they knew what was happening, and ran to the fireplace to Floo to St Mungo's.
St Mungo's lacked the antiseptic smells of a Muggle hospital but had its own scents of various potions. Hermione preferred the dusty smells of libraries, but she had no choice, her best friend was ill and Ron's damned curt note gave her no other information. Hermione craved information.
"Luna Lovegood. Where is she?" Hermione did not bother with pleasantries upon approaching the lobby desk. The witch at reception boldly looked at Hermione up and down, making note of the pyjamas, fuzzy slippers, and random quills in the messy bun on her head, stopping briefly at the ink smudge running along her nose.
The witch looked at a clipboard and responded in a curt tone. "Third floor, room twelve."
"Can you tell me what's wrong?"
"I'm afraid you'll have to ask her Healer. The lift is on the first right."
With those words, Hermione was dismissed, but that was inconsequential, because she was already rushing down the hall, jumping into the lift just as the doors closed, saying "Sorry! Excuse me!" to the surprised occupants. Needless to say, she was the first off the lift when the doors opened on three, sprinting as fast as her fuzzy slippers could take her.
Those fuzzy slippers were not the first things Harry Potter noticed about the witch who rushed into Luna's hospital room. It wasn't the quills in the hair or the smudge on her nose. It was the look of unchecked anxiety on her face.
"Where is she? How is she? Oh, Luna!" Hermione raced to the bedside where the thin blonde witch lay motionless. She held her best friend's hand and then wiped the tears that were staining her own cheeks. She did a quick check of Luna's condition, checking for pulse, seeming to measure it, feeling her forehead, looking into her eyes, testing reflexes. Harry noted that the Healer did similar tests on the patient earlier.
Once the cursory check was done, the witch looked up and only then seemed to notice the others in the room. "What happened?" The direct question echoed the fear in her eyes.
Ron moved from his spot on the other side of Luna's bed to stand by Hermione. His voice was just above a whisper. "I don't understand it. We were just sharing a glass of port when she took a sip and collapsed."
"Was she the only one to drink from the bottle?"
"Yes, she had the first sip. No one else had any after Luna fell."
"Do you still have the bottle?"
"Of course. Harry took it to the Ministry to be tested. We think it was poisoned."
Hermione's eyes widened as she appeared to struggle to maintain her composure. "How? Why? Who?"
As Hermione retained her balance, Ron was beginning to lose his, realising that his actions nearly cost the life of his love. Noticing Ron's sudden muteness, Harry moved from his spot in the shadows of the far corner of the room and put an arm around his friend, taking over answering their interrogator.
"Ron told me it was a gift from after the War. He doesn't recall who sent it or when. We got lots of gifts back then. I just put mine in storage, Ron kept his at home."
"Are they running tests to trace the poison, the type of poison, the person who sent it?"
"The Ministry is working on it, but it's probably a dead lead. Ron thinks he got it at least seven years ago," Harry replied.
Hermione swore under her breath and sat down in the chair beside Luna's bed. She was unaware that she kept rubbing Luna's hand; she was in deep thought, mouthing words to herself. Harry heard the names of some poisons and their antidotes under her breath. She finally looked up. "Is there a diagnosis yet? What do they know so far?"
"The port is still being tested now. Luna will recover, but it may be a few days until they can isolate the poison. But it is expected that she'll be fully recovered."
Hermione let out a breath. "Good."
She looked around the room and noticed something missing.
"Where's Xenophilius? Where's Mr. Lovegood?"
"You just missed him. He went to talk to the Healer. He should be right back."
True to his word, an elderly, white haired man appeared in the room, his face smiling only upon the sight of Hermione. He moved quickly to her side. Only then did Hermione let go of Luna's hand to hug her friend's father, the man who served as a surrogate father to her while in England.
"Hermione! You're here!" he exclaimed through tears as they hugged each other tight.
"Of course I'm here. Where else would I be? We must be strong for Luna," she responded into his shoulder. The man was frail and Hermione tightened her grip, as if he might fall to the floor should she let go.
"Hermione, it's been horrible! I'm so glad you're here!" he cried into her hair.
She patted his back. "There is nowhere else I would ever be."
Mr. Lovegood, perhaps in reaction to a quill about to poke his eye, ended the hug by stepping back and holding Hermione at arm's length, then looking her up and down like a father evaluating his child's wardrobe. "Hermione, by the gods! Have you seen yourself?" Strong words from a man whose daughter often wore bottle cap necklace and radish earrings.
Hermione looked confused, then looked down at her clothing. She blushed slightly, which Harry found endearing.
"Oh dear," she smiled, eyes lowered as she lightly chewed her thumbnail. "I didn't think."
Ginny Weasley walked in at that moment carrying a tray of teas. She looked impeccable in a green cashmere jumper and skinny jeans with black boots, her face perfectly made up and not a hair out of place.
"Are those garden gnomes on your pyjama trousers?" she asked Hermione, not bothering with introductions.
"Uh yes-"
"And a Puddlemere United sweatshirt?" she continued.
"I know, the colours don't match, but it's warm."
"And the slippers?"
"Oh, they don't match either, do they? My mum bought them. They're ever so warm."
"What, no bunny slippers, Granger?" Harry entered the conversation with a smirk. Ron gave him a light shoulder punch in response.
"Ron, you don't need to defend my honour. I didn't think when I got the owl post. I openly acknowledge that I wear mismatched clothing to bed and fuzzy slippers on my feet. You're welcome to put it in the Daily Prophet, but please don't. I do have a position at the Ministry that requires at least a soupçon of respect."
Harry noticed Ginny's eyes narrow, then return to its natural size. It happened in a split second, but he was a trained Auror, he knew recognizing these subtle clues helped with both friends and foes.
Glancing quickly at Hermione, he saw that she noticed as well, as a very subtle upturn of her lips started, then quickly retreated.
Hermione suddenly looked at him and their eyes met. She quickly looked away.
"I should clean up a bit … could someone let me know if Luna wakens? I'll just head for the ladies' …"
"It's the second door on the left," Ginny answered the unanswered question.
"Right, thanks." Hermione suddenly seemed tired. She looked up at Mr. Lovegood and gave a small smile as she pressed his hand. "I'll be right back. I must look a sight."
"We'll be here waiting for you."
As soon as she confirmed that Hermione was outside of hearing distance, Ginny said, "Well! What a sight she was! Did you ever see someone appear in public in their pyjamas? With fuzzy slippers? And her hair! It's always been a bit wild, but I've never seen it so out of control! I would think she would plait it at night at least to tame it down. And her face, not a speck of makeup! And Floo powder on her dressing gown six inches deep!"
"I thought Hermione looked remarkably well," Ron observed. "I didn't notice the Floo powder on her dressing gown."
"I'm sure you did, Harry," Ginny replied slyly. "She has an indifference to decorum."
"It shows affection for her friend which is endearing," Ron further defended her.
Not getting the desired results, Ginny went in for the kill. "I would think that it would reduce your affection for her 'fine eyes', Harry."
"On the contrary. They were brightened in her anxiety for her friend."
That silenced Ginny.
When Hermione returned from the restroom, the tension in the room was palatable. "How's Luna? Any change?" she asked.
"No change yet. Why don't you go home, Hermione? We can owl you when Luna wakes up," Mr. Lovegood replied.
Hermione smiled and shook her head, motioning to her attire. "I'm already dressed for bed. I can just curl up here." She patted her book bag. "I brought some reading as well. You're welcome to go, I'll be fine. I've already owled the Ministry not to expect me tomorrow." She then Transformed one of the stiff chairs into a comfy lounge and sat down, pulling out a book. The others took their places, Ron and Mr. Lovegood to either side of Luna by her bedside, while Harry and Ginny spoke quietly in the corner.
Ginny brushed her hair out of her face and leaned into Harry as she sipped her tea. "I don't think there's much we can do here. If my brother wants to embarrass himself going gooey for a girl who's not interested in him, then he doesn't need an audience."
"You don't think it's a mutual attraction either?"
"No, not at all. Luna is sweet, but she seems to treat everyone the same way. No, I take that back. It's obvious pyjama-girl over there and Luna are best friends, and it's obvious she loves her father, but other than that, I think she treats humans the same way she treats her imaginary creatures."
"Equal levels of caring?"
"Exactly."
Harry pondered this for a bit. "Not sure if I told you, but we had a similar situation in Asia. I had to get Ron out before he was ready to propose to some girl we knew nothing about. I think she just wanted to be Mrs. Ronald Weasley of the Golden Duo. Ron isn't very good at weeding out the hangers-on."
Ginny almost did a delicate snort in agreement. "I'm not surprised. Probably all over Asia, several times in China alone, that country is so bloody huge. Mum clamouring for more grandchildren is not helping the situation either."
Harry smiled, knowing Molly's tendencies. "Luckily Fleur and Angelina are helping on that front. She's not pressuring you, is she?" he joked.
Ginny's eyes turned serious as she looked Harry in the eye. "Would it matter to you if she did?" she asked softly.
Harry gulped, realising he was on tender ground. He needed to change the topic quickly.
"Uh, how about you go and I'll just stay for a bit. I had nothing else scheduled and I'd like to see how Luna reacts to Ron when she wakes up."
Ginny looked a bit downcast but not surprised that Harry changed the topic. "Yes, all right." She pulled on her cloak and walked over to her brother, who was still sitting on the edge of his chair, holding Luna's hand and wiping her brow. She gave him a quick kiss on the head.
"I'm headed off, Ronniekins. Floo or owl me when you hear anything."
Ron turned to her, his eyes rimming with tears, and gave her a quick hug. "Thanks, Ginny. I really appreciate your being here."
Ginny's eyes closed for a moment, anxious to hide her true feelings on the situation. She patted his back. "Of course," she said in a choked voice, then her robes swirled and she spun quickly away, nodding to Harry as she went out the door.
Harry walked over to Ron and put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm going to get some more tea. Would you like anything?"
Ron shook his head in reply, but gave Harry a hug as well. "Thanks for being here, mate. She means the world to me."
"I see that." Harry tried to keep his voice flat. He turned to Mr. Lovegood. "Would you like some tea or coffee, Mr. Lovegood? I'm just going for a walk to the cafeteria."
Luna's father gave Harry a grateful look and shook his head. "No, Harry, my boy, I'm fine for now. I just don't want to leave Luna's side. I don't need coffee to stay awake right now. Maybe later, Harry. Maybe later."
Harry remembered that this man was widowed when Luna was only nine, and his heart broke a little. To lose one's wife so unexpectedly and so young, with a young daughter to be brave for … He turned and looked at Hermione.
The bookworm was sitting on the chaise, her feet propped up, scribbling notes on a variety of books she must have un-shrunk for her much smaller book bag. She was muttering something that sounded like "no fucking internet".
She really is beautiful. Harry shocked himself with those thoughts. She wasn't his usual type. She wasn't tall and slender. She wasn't Asian like Cho, or a redhead like Ginny; her hair wasn't straight at all. She was a bit short, curvier than his usual athletic or model type, and she wasn't fawning over him, which was a huge change. Maybe that was her appeal? Actually, he was a bit surprised she wasn't fawning over him. Since he overheard her and two of her housemates saying such ridiculous things about Oliver Wood and other Quidditch players as well as Ron and him, he had expected Hermione to be finding excuses to talk to him, to stand by him, to touch him. Then he could cringe, scowl, and move away. That was what he was used to. But to have this … indifference? She probably forgot he was in the room. She probably forgot anyone was there but Luna.
Oh Merlin! But how she looked when she flew in here! Her eyes wild, her hair crazier than his own, covered in Floo powder and not a care in the world other than her friend's needs. Did he have anyone who cared for him that much? Really cared for him? Other than Ron and maybe Molly?
He felt a pull in his gut when he realised with a surprising intensity that he wanted her to be that wild, that impetuous about him. He imagined himself lying still on the hospital bed and Hermione racing in with quills in her hair, ink on her nose and fuzzy slippers on her feet. She would run to his bedside, hold his hand to her chest, and kiss his forehead. Then his eyes would flutter open, he would wake, and she would move her head closer to his and they would kiss, tentatively at first, then with growing heat, as she leaned forward until she was beside him in the bed, and his arms wrapped around her body, and with one swift move, he was on top and entering her-
Merlin! Where did that come from! He definitely needed to take a walk now, if not take a cold shower. He shook his head trying to banish the thoughts.
He looked at her again. She really had no idea he was there, standing and staring at her. Until.
She stopped her frenzied writing and handed him the parchment. "Here. Here's a list of possible poisons that would cause this reaction over this period of time. Can you give this to whoever is investigating this at the Ministry? I'm assuming you've already been in contact with him or her?"
Harry glanced at the page and blinked in amazement at the level of knowledge of poisons displayed therein. Blimey! Remind me not to get her angry! he thought, impressed by her grasp of the topic. She's wasted in Magical Creatures; could be a top researcher for Aurors, he thought.
Frowning, she was still staring at him, awaiting a reply.
"Uh, of course," he said. Bloody hell, articulate aren't we? he thought. He immediately went for his trademark scowl. She went back to her books. Too quickly, for his liking.
"Uh, coffee?" he asked. Smooth, Potter, he thought sarcastically. Very smooth.
She looked up, surprised he was still there. "Uh, no, thanks. Thought I might catch a nap. Coffee won't help that, will it?" She seemed to realise that she sounded a bit rude, and tried to soften her prior words. "But, thanks for the offer," she added in a softer, more feminine voice. He liked that voice.
Her sudden movements to lie down on her side and prop up a book in her hand reminded him that he was dismissed.
"Well, I'm off," he said. Getting no response, he walked out of the room, rubbing his already messy hair. Fuck, it's fourth year all over again and she's Cho. No, she's definitely not Cho and I'm not Cedric. Blimey! Why am I acting this way around her?
Later, Harry returned with some tea, an assortment of biscuits and some bottles of water in case the occupants of the room changed their mind about refreshments in the long hours to come. He was about to announce his entrance when he noticed that Hermione was now lying prone on the chaise, eyes closed, book closed, snoring softly. Her arms were wrapped tight around herself as if she were cold. Harry immediately took off his Auror robes and draped them over her curled form. Eyes still closed, she grasped it in one hand and pulled it up to her chin, a small smile forming on her lips. Harry fought the urge to dance a jig and to kiss her inviting cheek.
He offered the water and biscuits to Ron and Mr. Lovegood, who both declined. They were reclined in their chairs, whispering stories about Luna. Pride was evident all over the white-haired wizard's face and voice. Harry half listened to Mr. Lovegood recount all of Luna's accomplishments at such a young age. Harry missed having a parent to boast about his accomplishments. Not that he wanted someone to boast about him, the Daily Prophet and the fangirls did that. But he missed the unconditional love of a parent to a child. If he could not be the recipient of that type of love, he at least wanted to be the instigator of it. To be the father of a brood of witches and wizards, enough for a Quidditch team. But who would be their mother?
He looked at the witch on the chaise again. She was certainly smart. And beautiful. And she was stubborn. He shook his head. He wasn't sure if he was ready for a lifetime of that.
"Ron, Mr. Lovegood? Sorry. I'm just going to pop down to the Ministry and I'll be back," Harry interrupted the two men.
Ron leapt into Auror mode. "The Ministry? What happened?"
"No, nothing urgent. Hermione wanted me to deliver a list of possible poisons."
Ron's face crumbled. He rubbed his knuckles into his eyes. "It's all my fault. I'm the reason why Luna's here. It was meant for me."
As Mr. Lovegood shook his head, Harry wrapped an arm around Ron.
"Gods, Ron, it was meant for you! You could very easily have been the one lying here! Or me. Or any of us! It's not your fault! You didn't mean to poison her!"
The words seemed to fall on deaf ears. "I could not live with myself if anything should happen to her."
"That's not going to happen, Ron. You've got to be strong." The men took turns embracing the older wizard.
Harry sighed as he looked at themen. The love they both felt for Luna-one as a lover, the other as a father-he felt for no one.
He glanced again at the witch lying on the chaise. Maybe…
***
Hermione woke to the sounds of her housemates giggling next to her. First she thought she was in her own bed in her room, but realised quite quickly that her bed was much larger than the one she was on now. She rubbed her eyes and then noticed the Auror robe covering her. "What?" she asked to no one in particular, looking closely at the robes. She then looked about the room and saw Harry's intense stare directed at her. "Potter?"
Lavender giggled and handed Hermione an oversized Vratsa Vultures sweatshirt which she donned immediately, pushing aside the Auror robe that had once covered her.
"Does is still smell like him?" Lavender giggled.
Hermione wrinkled her nose. "Huh?"
"The sweatshirt. Does is smell like Viktor Krum?"
Hermione gasped as she swatted at a giggling Lavender. She just then happened to meet Harry's eyes. He was scowling even more than usual this time.
She looked at the Auror robe beside her and noticed that he was no longer wearing his. Gathering it, she brought it to where he was standing alone in the corner. "I'm sorry, this must be yours. Thank you," she said as she handed it to him.
He took it, nodded and looked away. Hermione rolled her eyes. Why did she even bother to try being polite? But why did he even bother to do a good deed for her by letting her borrow his robes?
Hermione looked around the room. Her silly housemates were chatting with Ron and Mr. Lovegood, getting updates on Luna's condition.
"Oh! Look!" Parvati pointed behind Ron's back to where Luna's eyes were beginning to blink. Ron and Mr. Lovegood immediately resumed their positions next to the bed, her father taking her hand while Ron moved in to stroke her cheek. Everyone moved closer to see.
"Ronald?" Luna asked her voice dry from disuse. Hermione ran to get a cup of water and offered it. "Hermione?" Luna smiled at the sight of her friend. "Daddy!" Luna then saw her father who swept her into an embrace.
"I'll tell the Healer," Hermione said as she left the room.
Harry came closer and observed Luna wakening and greeting everyone. Ron held her hand tightly as she greeted her housemates and even Harry received a smile from the witch. Yet, Harry was concerned; he could see no change in her manner from her acknowledgement of him or her boyfriend, Ron. Indeed, although her first look was to Ron, her first smile was to Hermione.
Speaking of the witch, Hermione rushed in with the Healer Jones. "How do you feel?" Hermione asked as the Healer went through some quick medical assessments.
"I'm quite tired and sore. My stomach hurts something awful. Ronald? What happened?" asked Luna.
"Someone … poisoned the wine we were drinking. You took the first sip and collapsed. I am so sorry, my love," Ron cried and wrapped his arms around Luna. She smiled and patted his back.
"Ronald, it's not your fault!" The young witch smiled sweetly at the young redhead by her side. "I'm just glad you weren't hurt."
"Not hurt? I'm in agony! My actions nearly killed you!"
"Ronald, don't say it again. If anything, you're too good for me." Luna smiled.
The Healer cleared her throat. "Mr. Lovegood, could you step over here a moment?" They moved outside to the hallway while Hermione followed with her eyes.
"Wish you could read lips?" a voice whispered into her ear. She smirked, recognising the speaker.
"Potter, I'm sure that's part of your Auror training. Why don't you go make use of it and let me know what's happening." She had turned to face him, her eyes bright and challenging, her smile unyielding.
Harry felt the tightness in his chest again. Damn that woman! She makes me lose control of my thoughts and emotions! She teases me, she taunts me. She will be my undoing!
Harry cleared his throat. "Not something you learned at Beauxbatons?"
Her smile grew. He gulped. Her eyes glanced up and down his form. "I'm sure your skills are much greater than mine."
He gulped again. "Um, I'll just, excuse me," he said as he left the room.
Hermione gave a small laugh. There were some things she learned at Beauxbatons that he did not learn at Hogwarts.
***
"You must have a party to celebrate!"
Now that Luna was well and resting comfortably in her hospital bed, Parvati and Lavender were focusing on things that gave them pleasure, like parties and Quidditch players, and hopefully the both together.
"I should host a party?" Ron asked.
Parvati clapped her hands.
"Yes! To celebrate you and Harry returning …" Seeing Harry scowl, Parvati took a different tactic. "To celebrate Luna's return to health."
"What an excellent idea! Harry, what do you think?" Ron asked.
"It's your party, Ron, your choice," was the gruff response.
"You could have it at the assembly hall. It would be wonderful!" Lavender suggested.
"Puddlemere United will be back in town in two weeks! That would be excellent timing," Parvati added.
"Yes! They'll be playing the Vrasta Vultures," Lavender chimed in. As if on cue, everyone stared at Hermione's sweatshirt at that moment, and Hermione felt her cheeks colouring. She crossed her arms over her chest.
"Really? I had no idea," Hermione responded curtly.
"It'd be lovely to see Viktor again," Luna spoke from the bed. "He's so sweet and shy."
Hermione lowered her head, not anxious to meet anyone's eyes.
"What would Ernie say? Or Cormac? Or Draco?" teased Lavender. Harry's eyes widened as Hermione glared at Lavender.
"Draco? Malfoy? You're friends with him?" Ron asked incredulously.
"Well, we both work at the Ministry. Just friends."
"He took you out for dinner!"
"So did you! And Ernie! We're just friends."
Harry's face hardened with the news. How many men were pursing the Beauxbatons girl? Bill was practically flirting with her at the Burrow, in front of his pregnant wife! Yet none of these names caused her to blush like Viktor Krum. But Malfoy? Pft! She was friends with Malfoy? He thought she had some good sense, but that one aspect of her character negated the rest.
"Let's talk about the party," Hermione attempted to steer the subject away from her social life. Harry's open animosity towards her was becoming unbearable with each utterance of a male acquaintance of hers. "Ron, if you need help-"
"Yes, I'm sure you're an excellent party planner as well, Hermione. No worries. This sort of thing is up Ginny's alley," Ron answered, then turned to Luna. "Shall we do this? Have a party to celebrate your recovery?"
"Ronald, I don't need a party. Just having you all here is enough. But, if you are looking for an excuse, I am happy to provide it."
Lavender clapped her hands. "Excellent! Let's plan it. I'll help send the owls."
While the others were preoccupied with party planning, Hermione moved closer to Harry. "Have you heard from the Ministry?"
He looked about the room and indicated that they should step outside.
"Yes, both good and bad news. With your notes and the information from the Healer, they were able to pin down the specific poison. With some information from past poisoning attempts and traces on the bottle, they located the most likely suspect. Who was a Death Eater, who received the Dementor's Kiss in Azkaban three years ago."
Hermione sighed. "It's like someone reaching from their grave to kill." She shivered. "Ghastly."
"Cold?" Harry nearly handed Hermione his cloak again.
She smiled in gratitude. "No, it's that Muggle expression, someone walking over your grave? I just felt that."
"I felt that quite often while I was at Hogwarts."
Hermione looked at Harry carefully. He had said it so matter-of-factly. He was not looking for pity, it was a fact. Being close to death so often in his childhood was just a part of his life.
"So I've heard," she replied.
There it is again! That tightness in his chest, reaching up to his throat, causing him to stammer and cough when she looked at him. Harry rarely felt such intensity for anyone else, other than love for his parents or hatred for Voldemort.
"Um, I'll tell Ron when things are quieter. And he can tell Luna."
"Sounds good." She broke their connection, moving her head to look into Luna's room, then down at her clothes. "Gods! I forgot I was still in my pyjamas! And it's daylight! I should head home and change. This is harder to explain in the daytime than night."
"I can walk you out-"
"No need, I'll just Floo from the lobby. Can go straight to our home. Thanks for the offer though."
Hermione turned to leave, but Harry caught her wrist. There was one more thing he had to say "Are you really-are you dating Malfoy?" He nearly spat out the name.
Hermione wrinkled her brow. Draco's words about Harry from their lunch came back to her.
"It's no concern of yours. But no, we're not dating. He's just fun to be around." She emphasised the word 'fun' as she stared at Harry, who felt his anger rising.
"He's a bad sort. You'd want to keep away from him."
"Why? Because his father was a Death Eater? Draco's made amends. Why can't people accept that he's changed? Reconciliation is needed for the wizarding world to move forward. We can't keep past hatreds."
Harry shook his head in frustration. "You have no idea-"
"Oh, I think I do have an idea. Thank you for saving the world, but we need diplomats to move forward, to move towards an acceptance of all peaceful peoples and beings. We can't keep looking for wars to fight."
"You think I'm looking for the next battle? That I enjoyed war?" Harry was struggling to keep his voice down. Hermione noticed, and made a quick Silencing charm so they didn't disturb their friends with their heated words.
"I don't think you're looking for the next battle, but it's true that soldiers have a hard time transitioning to a peaceful world-"
"You think I enjoy war??" Harry didn't bother keeping quiet. He was absolutely incensed.
"No! I don't think you enjoy it! Who the hell does enjoy it? It's horrible! But I think the transition to peacetime is difficult! There are studies-"
"I don't give a flying fuck what your studies say! You are saying I enjoy battle, that I cannot live in a peaceful world. Do you ever listen to what the fuck you are saying? Gods! Unbelievable! I'm just warning you about Draco and you pin it on me-"
"Argh!" Hermione threw her hands in the air. Even though they were under a Silencing charm, it was becoming apparent to any passersby that theirs was a very heated discussion.
"Forget it! Just forget it! Let me say goodbye to Luna and go home. Thank you for the use of your Auror robe. Thank you for saving the world. But just let me go in peace!" With a flick of her wrist, Hermione did some wandless magic and ended the Silencing charm. She took a couple deep breaths, smoothing her clothes, before saying her goodbyes.
Harry stayed in the hallway, his temples throbbing. What a wretched girl! What a wretched know-it-all! What the hell does she know about war and battles? She was in a library in France for gods sake when they were fighting for their lives in Britain. No, she definitely wasn't a fangirl. Well not a fangirl of his. Of Quidditch players like Krum, yes, but not war heroes. She was exasperating, made him question himself, and she feels more alive than anyone else. Damn her.
******
Next week: enter Viktor Krum.
Please read and review!