“Hermione, what are you doing here?”
I appeared in the doorway of the Burrow. It was after work, and I had no other way to pass the time. “Hello, Hermione, dear, how have you been?” said Mrs. Weasley, rising to meet me.
“I’m fine, Mrs. Weasley,” I said, removing my cloak, and tossing it to the left. The coat rack caught it and hung it up. “I just came to see everybody.”
“It’s good you’re here, dear,” she said, smiling the same way I remembered that she had when we were children. Her hair was now streaked with gray, but she was the same woman who I remembered from when I was a girl.
“Hermione,” Ron looked bewildered. “I haven’t seen you in a long time.”
“Work’s kept me up a lot lately,” I sighed, pulling a chair up at the kitchen table. “I figured I’d say hello while I had the chance.”
We sat in silence for a while. Mrs. Weasley was bustling about, getting dinner cleaned up. I stood up to help her.
“Oh no, Hermione, sit down!” she said, gesturing toward the table. “You’ve been at work all day “ it’s high time you had a rest.” I sat back down reluctantly and continued to sit in silence.
Eventually, Mrs. Weasley joined the remainder of the family in the sitting room in front of the fire, leaving Ron and me alone. Ron leaned forward, his blue eyes filled with concern. He rested his hand on mine and looked me in the eye.
“Hermione, what’s the real reason you’re here?” he asked, squeezing my hand. When I looked up, my eyes were brimming with tears. I could tell it had startled him, for a pink tinge was creeping up around his neck.
“Oh, Ron,” I said, my voice shaking. “Harry came to see me today at St. Mungo’s.”
Comprehension dawned on Ron’s face.
“Oh,” he said, removing his hand from mine and coming around the table to sit next to me. “He told you, then?” I nodded. “He wasn’t supposed to. We knew you would worry, and then you would want to come with us.”
“Why can’t I come with you, Ron?” I asked. “He doesn’t care if I’m fighting against him “ he’ll kill me anyway!”
“That’s not it, Hermione,” he said, placing his hand on my shoulder. “This is dangerous, and I “ we don’t want you to get hurt.”
I looked at him. I hated that honesty in his eyes “ he really did care for my safety, and I wanted to hit him for it. Who cared about my safety? I was ready to die for him!
“Hermione, you can’t come,” he repeated. “I “ we don’t want you to get hurt. You need to be here for everyone else.” Tears flowed freely down my cheeks. I had never thought that I would see the day when Ron Weasley would reject me. I knew he liked me a lot even though he knew I wasn’t ready to let him in my way. Still, I couldn’t bear to see him telling me to go home like a little girl. I wasn’t a little girl anymore. I was twenty-two years old! How dare he?
“Ron, just promise me this,” I said, my voice quivering again.
“Anything, Hermione.”
“Be careful, Ron,” I said, fighting tears. “Be careful.”
I left them soon after that. I couldn’t bear to be around him anymore. He was such a distraction that I feared I would break down completely if I let myself near him.
I sat alone in my apartment, furious. Ever since I had begun work at St. Mungo’s, I had lived just outside of London, so that I would be close to my place of work. In fact, I lived in Surrey, rather close to the Dursleys, much to their displeasure. To them, I am what a pure-blood wizard would consider a blood-traitor. To Mrs. Dursley, especially, I was just like her sister the traitor, the weirdo, so as you can imagine they never liked me much.
Today, I sat in that apartment in Surrey, staring at the ceiling. I was lying on my bed, watching the ceiling fan circulate air through the room. It was dark outside, and the only light in my house was a small candle which had burned down to a stub. The window was open. It was cold and raining outside, which was usual for spring in London. I usually only did this in summer, but I had begun to break out in hot sweats, so the night air was refreshing.
I had been tempted to handcuff myself to the bed and throw the key out the window. That would have worked when I didn’t know I was a witch, but I always had my wand within reach of me now. Harry and Ron were at the Death Eater Headquarters as I lay here at home. I hated to think about it. They were out there, risking their own lives to save mine, and I was lying here at home. I had to do something, I had to keep moving, but I couldn’t do anything except wait and hope. I needed to stay here. They had told me to do this for my own safety, but I would lose my sanity if I sat here any longer. No matter how many times I told myself it was for the best, my conscience wouldn’t let me sit with that.
They had told me not to enter into battle. I wanted to fight to save the ones I loved. I wanted to fight for my own freedom. Instead, the ones I loved were fighting for me, and I didn’t deserve freedom if I couldn’t earn it on my own.
There was a clock on my wall. Almost midnight. That’s when Harry had said they would be storming headquarters. I began to breathe quickly. I couldn’t take much more of this. Almost midnight. Thankfully, I had to work then.
I rose from my bed and got dressed. I couldn’t stay here any longer. I’d just be a bit early, and get distracted sooner. I Disapparated.
I Appeared in the front office, and a witch with a pair of pink horns gasped at my sudden arrival. I could always tell when they were Muggle-born like me “ I had never gotten used to people appearing from thin air. I walked up to the office.
“Granger, you’re early,” said a man, glancing up from his roll call list. “I was afraid that you might not have come.” There was a twinkle in his eye that I had always hated. It was a spark more than a twinkle, and it unsettled me.
“I’m always here early, Redman,” I retorted. I had never liked the man. I may just have been warped by the times and death around me, but I was suspicious. He never sat right with me, and I suppose that he never will.
“Hermione,” a witch grabbed me by the arm. “Come on, we’ve got to get up to Spell Damage. The Longbottoms are due for a checkup.”
She led me up the stairs to the fourth floor. “So good to see you, Adrienne.”
She glared at me and continued to drag me up the stairs. We didn’t have Muggle devices like elevators or escalators in the hospital, nor were we allowed to apparate on night shifts. I was still shaky. I needed to get my mind on work, and off Ron.
I told myself that every day of my existence. I couldn’t afford to think about Ron. He was too much of a distraction, and distractions were the last thing I needed. Now with the war in its full-blown fury, it was the most important thing in the world to think about my work, and what I needed to do at that exact moment. Ron was irrelevant right now. Harry had promised “ he would not let him die.
Despite her dark tendencies, Adrienne really was one of my better friends. She and I worked the night shift together. Those were the times when she made good friends “ when she was focused. I needed to take a leaf out of her book and focus “ or my head just might explode.
We entered the Longbottoms’ room. They were both asleep, but Mrs. Longbottom had begun to twitch. “I got this one, Adrienne,” I said softly. “Go on to the next. I’ll be there soon.”
Ever since Alice Longbottom had become sensitive to sound, it was very hard to get her to sleep at night. I had discovered the key, however, to keeping her calm. She liked it when I sang to her. I pulled a chair over beside her bed and began to sing softly, while rubbing her back.
It took me a while to find a song to sing for her. I finally decided to hum aimlessly. I had never had a spectacular voice anyway. Tonight, I couldn’t think of anything but Ron. He needed to stay safe, if I wanted to stay out of the ward that I controlled.
Often, after she was calm, I would talk to her. Tonight, I felt the need to tell somebody of my broken heart and of the dark cloud of worry that was hanging over me.
“They’re attacking them tonight, Alice,” I breathed, barely producing sound. “I don’t know what to think. Neville, your son. He’ll be with them. I don’t know if any of them will make it out alive. I don’t know what to do.”
She grunted and her arm swung around convulsively. I began to speak again.
“And Harry will there. Harry Potter? Do you remember him? He saw you once, a long time ago. And Ron Weasley. Molly and Arthur’s son. He’s fighting now, fighting for his life “ and mine.”
Alice had finally calmed down. Her breathing was even and steady and I wished her sweet dreams. I knew they were always filled with terror, for she rarely fell asleep on her own. I hated to make her do it, so I brewed the potion of Dreamless Sleep for her whenever I had the chance.
Ron now haunted my own dreams. My waking dreams. I could always see him now, gaunt and faceless, lying dead in the Death Eater headquarters.
I quickly brushed tears out of my eyes as I walked back down to meet Adrienne. “Hey,” I said, jogging up to her. “Who else have you finished?”
“Gregory Norris is all right now,” she said, brushing her black hair out of her eyes. “C’mon, we’re supposed to go back down to emergency.”
We were climbing down the first flight of stairs, when our attention was direction elsewhere. Red lights began flashing. My heart stopped.
I knew what those meant. Those lights. They had been installed especially for the war times ahead, for the times when casualties from the battles were brought in. I couldn’t breathe. I was empty. All these people would be coming soon, dead or dying. Adrienne and I looked and each other and flew down the stairs to the emergency floor.
Upon arrival, I broke down. Tears were flowing down my face, and I didn’t have the strength to wipe them away. There were bodies, many bodies, mangled and disfigured and cold. A puddle must have been forming at my feet for the amount of water falling down my face. I searched the mass of people who lay dying before and found many that I knew.
In the distance, I saw a streak of red. Without thinking, I ran to the bedside. I thought of Harry. He had promised me he wouldn't let Ron die! I reached down for his wrist and felt his pulse. It was weak and dying, but there still. His eyes fluttered and looked at me. “Don’t let me die, Hermione,” he said frantically, his eye twitching. “Don’t let me die!”
“Don’t worry, Ron,” I said, my own eyes darting frantically around the room. There was death and destruction everywhere, and my own Ron was in the middle of it. “I promise. I won’t let you die.”
His head collapsed and he fell back onto his pillow. I checked his pulse again. It was still there, yet weak and dying. Tears were still pouring down my face, even though I had calmed down considerably. Ron was here. It would all be all right, if only he would live.
He was cold, but he was still alive. I found a blanket and covered him with it. There was a deep gash on his forehead, which was still bleeding. I dabbed at it with the blanket, trying to stem the flow of blood. I swept a lock of ginger hair off his forehead and kissed his forehead. It would all be all right. Oh, it had to be all right!
Suddenly, my career was thrown on the ground. My twelve O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s were thrown out the window. Nothing I had ever accomplished was relevant. Nothing mattered anymore, if only he would survive the night. Oh, Merlin. Merlin, please let him live!