When I woke up the next morning, I had a terrible headache.
No, it wasn’t because I was dehydrated or because I hadn’t eaten enough “ it was because the second I got home I began to bang my head on the windowsill repeatedly until I couldn’t remember why I was sitting there.
Yes, it was stupid, but I didn’t like dreaming about Ron. It was with that that I fell asleep, trying not to think about him. I’ll give myself a little credit, because I didn’t dream about him again.
I had taken such care not to fall in love with Ron, and now this had to happen. His life was in danger already, and now this? What of this mysterious stranger? Who was it that was trying to take my Ron’s life?
I didn’t have time to worry about it now. I had to be in to work at ten.
My alarm went off at eight o’clock and I rolled out of bed. The window was still wide open from the night before, so I closed it. Luckily, today was bright and sunny, but I felt as if one ray from the sun today might send me over the edge. Ron was in danger, I didn’t even know if Neville had lived through the night, and now there was somebody trying to penetrate St. Mungo’s. Brilliant.
Life, it seemed, was inconsiderate of my young worries and woes. As I opened the cupboard, I found that life was again demanding that I go shopping, which I have always despised. I was out of food “ and nearly out of Floo Powder.
I went into London that morning, intending to go shopping, no matter how hard my head hurt. The sun was beating down on the back of my neck, and I hated it for doing so. The spring always reminded me of that other day, when Ron had told me …
Don’t think about that, I reminded myself for the tenth time that day. Don’t think about him. Focus. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t even focus on where I was going. It was useless.
As I walked around the bend, The Leaky Cauldron appeared in front of me. I was so focused on getting to it that I bumped into a young man, roughly my own age.
As I walked into him, a great mound of books cascaded from his arms and hit the pavement. I gasped. “I’m so sorry!” I said, bending over to help.
“It’s all right,” he said, blinking and looking up at me. “I was just taking these to sell today. No damage done.”
We managed to clean them all up rather quickly, and miraculously, they all ended back up in his arms. It was then that I looked at him closely. “Redman?” I said cautiously.
“Miss Granger,” he said, stooping low, despite his load of books. “Why might I find you in London today?”
“Nearly out of Floo Powder,” I said shortly, ignoring his façade of elegance. “And yourself?”
“Ah, sadly,” he said, “this I did not lie about. I’m working at Flourish and Blotts today.”
“Why?” I pried, sounding rather rude, I am sure. “You work the night shift at St. Mungo’s “ with me.”
“They don’t know that, do they?” he said slyly. “After all, I do only work the night shift. Shall I accompany you, Miss Granger?”
I don’t know why I let him. Perhaps he was being kinder to me today than he usually was. Whatever the reason, there was a small voice at the back of my head telling me, do it. Just do it. Everything will be all right.
We entered the Leaky Cauldron and the bartender raised a hand in greeting. “This is where we part ways, I am afraid, Miss Granger. I shall see you at ten.” From there, he Disapparated.
Goodness, that man confused me. Not only had I never liked him before, but I had been so certain that he was the inside operative of the night before, that I would have told it to them then and there. Now, it was getting ridiculous. He was being gentlemanly, something I would never have expected from a man of his situation. I hated him for it, thoroughly.
I bought the Floo Powder and returned home quickly. I needed to get ready for work. With my mind set on work now, I got dressed and Disapparated.
Beckoning through the window, the ugly mannequin urged me on through the glass window pane. Although I showed up every morning and night, she was never satisfied. I always walked through. No matter how many times I did, however, the mannequin in the window always beckoned to me. I hated it.
Just in time for my shift, I materialized in the waiting room. Indignantly, I turned around to find a wizard grunting and poking at a gigantic purple pustule which seemed to have attached itself to his forehead. Furrowing my brow and clapping my hand over my mouth, I walked in the other direction. Somehow, after all these years I could never get used to the diversity of stupid things people managed to do to themselves.
While I was with the Longbottoms about ten minutes later, Hannah found me. Rather pale and shaky, I deduced immediately that someone had told her about the events of the night before.
“I had no idea,” she said, her eyes tearing up. “They told me when I came in this morning. They assigned me a room, and “ oh, it was terrible. I can’t imagine how you put it all last night.”
Conveniently neglecting to mention that I had fainted, I said, “It comes with practice. You’ll get used to it eventually.” Hannah nodded, still unsure that she ever would. “Listen,” I said. “Could you look after them for a little while? I have to go check up in my ward. There’s a snake-bite in there, and I want to take a look at it. Would you mind?”
Hannah shook her head, and I smiled in thanks. Friends like her were rare, and I did not take them for granted. I dashed out of the room and quickly down the hall. My patients were waiting for me, and one of them was Ron.
I walked into the room, holding my breath. He was sleeping peacefully, it seemed, but then I remembered his coma. It would take many long hours to figure out how to lift it. Edgerton Yates was sleeping fitfully. I assumed that my potion had worn off. He would have to face his fears eventually, but now was the time for him to sleep. He needed to sleep the hurt and terror away. Facing his fears would come another day. I brewed the potion and woke him gently.
“Mr. Yates,” I called smoothly, letting my voice infiltrate his crooked dreams. “Here, take this. You will not dream.”
He looked at me with the same expression he had worn the night before “ mistrust. I smiled. “My name is Hermione,” I said. “I’m here to take care of you.”
A crooked smile crept over his face and he took the potion gratefully. Immediately, his head fell back onto his pillows, and the clouds over his face lifted. I turned the woman next to him. She sat up straight in bed, her eyes wide. “Hello,” she said. She spoke like a child. Her eyes were round and innocent, like she had not fought in any battle, like she seen no hardships. For a moment, I envied her, wishing that I could, somehow, wipe away every bad and bitter memory from my past. Looking back, the bad and bitter were not always wicked. They were unforgettable.
“Ron,” I swallowed, my voice shaking, holding onto his hand for dear life, as we looked into the black oblivion ahead of us. “I’m scared.”
“Harry needs us,” he said, looking bravely at me. “It’ll be okay.”
“I’m scared,” I repeated, looking up at him.
We were in our seventh year, on the edge of battle. I knew he still loved me, and I still loved him, but I could not let him in my way.
“I don’t know what’s in there.”
“Neither do I,” he said calmly, and a shiver ran up my spine. He felt it and pulled me into his chest. I could smell the sweet fragrance of Weasley laundry, and I could hear the rapid beating of his heart. He was clinging to me, and I to him. He was my life, my breath, my everything. The world around us stopped and stared, but we were there together, never knowing that they did.
“Ron,” I said. “Don’t let me go.”
He released me from his grip. “I have to,” he said. “Harry needs us. Our lives don’t matter anymore. He’s the only one who needs to survive.”
Tears slipped silently down my cheeks. They were bitter, as they always were when I was terrified. They were bitter tears, and I couldn’t find the strength to push them away.
I didn’t need to find the strength. Ron bent down and kissed me on the cheek. Oh, how I wanted to catch his lips and taste them, but he only lingered there for a moment. With his thumb, he gently wiped away the tears from my face. I satisfied the longing I had by kissing his fingertips as he neared my face. I couldn’t stand what I was doing. I wanted him … I was leading him on. I couldn’t let him get in my way, yet I was the one who gave him hope.
I couldn’t go on like this. Not anymore.
I shook my head and broke from my reverie. Funny how in such evil times, I could have such a memory as that. A simple kiss, a few bitter tears, and a longing so strong that even ambition could not drive it away. I couldn’t go on like this. I couldn’t deny it anymore.
I loved Ronald Weasley.
Oh, but I had hurt him so badly. He knew nothing of the remorse I felt for having done so. He was my everything, and I had ripped needles through his heart. I brought him to love, and I tore him down, once he was willing to wear his heart on his sleeve. He was not the villain here “ I was.
I turned my head and saw him lying there, sleeping peacefully. I was so glad to see him there, near to me once more. He would not die, not while I had anything to do with it. Sighing, I turned back to Emmeline and began the routine evaluation.
“Emmeline, I am Hermione. What is your name?” I asked, speaking slowly and articulately.
She stared blankly at me. Oh, this was going to be harder than I thought. At least she was happy for the present. She remembered nothing of the hardships she had been through. I would have to bring them back eventually, but for now she could lie in peace.
I turned back to the woman before me. “My name is Hermione,” I said, looking into her eyes. “You are Emmeline Vance, and you are fifty-four years old. Today is Tuesday. How are you feeling?”
Emmeline’s eyes uncrossed. “Hello,” she said vaguely. “Who are you?”
Patience, I reminded myself, is a virtue. “I am Hermione,” I repeated. “You are Emmeline Vance, and you are fifty-four years old …”
When I arrived home that evening, life was more than I could handle. I had spent all these years believing that I could forget about Ron if I tried hard enough. As it turned out, I could not forget him, no matter if the earth gave way and the sun ceased to shine. Ron would be my beacon of light in the darkness. He would be my pillar of hope throughout storm. He would be my stronghold, no matter how little I wanted him there.
I loved him, and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.
I arrived home at four o’clock. Exhausted, I collapsed onto my bed in the middle of the room. Right now, nothing in my medical training could relieve the hurt I felt in my chest. It was time for some serious chocolate therapy. True; I had learned in my medical training that chocolate did absolutely nothing for me, but I didn’t care at the moment. Ron was the most important thing in the world. For all I cared, the stupid medical training could die along with my hopes of a career.
I settled down on my bed with a chocolate frog or two, methodically shoving them, one by one, into my mouth. Ron was back in control of my life, and he wasn’t even conscious. It killed me to think that I could ever have hurt him so badly. All these years, he had swallowed his pain. He had swallowed what he always wanted to tell me. Man that he was, he had swallowed his bitter tears.
It was not my place to judge him: I could only sympathize. He was right in his own to swallow his feelings, for I had done the same many times before. What I did not realize was that I had done the same with him. On the same day as he, I had swallowed my feelings for him. I had ignored my heart and pushed down into my chest. When it beat, I stopped it. I did not want love, so I ignored it. I iced him. I tore him down.
As I shoved the wrappers into the rubbish bin, I dissolved onto my bed. Warm tears, salty tears, overwhelmed me. I was no longer Hermione the Healer, I was lost, broken, undone. As I lay there, sobbing into my pillow, I released these bitter tears. Finally, after all these years, I knew what I had to live for. I had someone to live for, someone to die for. Someone to fall into when the world grew dark.*
*from ‘Someone To Die For’ by Jimmy Gnecco.
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