Hermione ran back to The Burrow, calling for Mrs. Weasley as she reached the foyer.
"What is it, dear?" Her expression fell as she saw Hermione breathing hard from her run.
"It's all right, Mrs. Weasley, they've taken him to the hospital. He hit the ground while he was flying and broke his leg—he's not in any danger."
Mrs. Weasley collapsed onto the couch, relief washing over her. Of course, a broken leg was nothing to be happy about, but it was the sort of incident she was used to dealing with.
"Are you sure? There weren't any strangers about, or..." She didn't want to mention Death Eaters, or worse, the Dark Lord himself.
"Definitely not. One moment, he was practising a dive, the next he was on the ground in a heap. Tonks called Shacklebolt straight away, and a healer arrived before we could do anything else. Tonks went with them to the hospital, and she asked me to come and tell you."
"Oh, thank you, Hermione. I'll have to go straight away. Can you help me pack some things for him?"
"Sure, what do you want me to do?"
Mrs. Weasley led Hermione to Ron's room, and waved her wand at the cupboard. "Assemblius!" she shouted, and various items of clothing flew towards the bed. "Could you pack those things, dear? I'll fetch some food for him. He'll miss his mince pies." Mrs. Weasley quickly exited the room, leaving Hermione to pack Ron's things.
As she spelled Ron's clothes into an overnight bag, she noticed a bright green pair of Chudley Cannons boxer shorts. She smiled mischievously, and put them in her pocket.
She carried the bag downstairs, stopping at Ginny's room to fetch some things of her own, and then joined Mrs. Weasley in the lounge.
"Ready, Dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked, filling a large box with cakes, pies, bottles of pumpkin juice, and sandwiches. "We'll go via Floo Powder." She held out the pan of green powder, and Hermione took a handful. She stepped into the fireplace, threw down the powder and shouted "St. Mungo's hospital!" then disappeared in a flash of green light.
She appeared in the grate on the ground floor reception area at the hospital, coughing to clear the dust and soot disturbed by her arrival. She looked around at the reception area. Witches and Wizards were lined up at the counter. Some were covered in bandages, and others were covered in various growths and lumps. Hermione counted three sets of antlers, seven doorknobs, and one Wizard was lying on the ground, unable to stand up because of the weight of the hazel tree growing from his head. A nondescript wizard observed her briefly from behind the reception desk before turning away and replacing his wand beneath his robes. She quickly moved out of the way, and Mrs. Weasley appeared in the fireplace. They walked down the corridor to the Taliesin Ward and turned when they saw 'Ronald Weasley, broom crash, broken leg' on a small notice board outside the third room on the left.
Ron was sitting up in the bed chatting to Tonks.
"It's such an easy trick, that one. I don't know how I stuffed it up. Hey! Hi, Mum, hi, Hermione."
Mrs. Weasley ran to the bed and started examining Ron's face and eyes, and threw back the bedclothes to look at his leg, checking for symptoms only a mother could see.
"Get off, Mum! The Healer says it's a clean break, there's nothing to worry about. I can come home tomorrow."
"Ronald Weasley, there's nothing simple about a broken leg. How could you be so careless?"
"Molly, it was just an accident, it could have happened anytime." Tonks tried to be reassuring.
"Humph!" Mrs. Weasley proceeded to check Ron's pulse. He shook her off.
"MUM! It's okay. I feel fine."
"Well, you shouldn't have been out practising by yourself. Heaven knows what would have happened if Hermione and Nymphadora hadn't been nearby."
Ron smiled weakly. If he'd had it his way, Tonks wouldn't have been there at all, but he was grateful that she had been.
"Now, we've brought all your things. There's your pyjamas, dressing-gown, clothes to wear home tomorrow, toothbrush, soap, two towels, your Chudley Cannons books, some food and drink, your wizard's robes in case you get more visitors, and spare underwear."
Ron blushed. "You didn't bring the kitchen sink, did you?" he asked sarcastically.
"Oh, Ronald, just you wait until your father gets here!"
Ron stifled a smile. He knew his father wouldn't fuss him about the accident. A broom crash wasn't much compared to a bite from the fangs of Voldemort's serpent. Ron grinned; maybe they could compare scars...
Hermione decided that Mrs. Weasley had had enough time scolding Ron. She eased past and reached for his hand. "Are you really okay? You gave me such a fright." Her hand gripped his tightly.
He paused and looked straight into her eyes. "I'm fine—and I'm glad you were there for me."
She blinked, and her eyes filled with tears again. "I..."
"Well, little brother, what have you gone and done this time?" George's voice boomed as he and Fred entered the room. George placed a small parcel on the bed, and said, "This will help you recover."
"Don't you DARE give him any of your jokes, George Weasley!" Mrs. Weasley shrieked, grabbing the parcel away.
"It's okay, Mum, it's just a box of Chocolate Frogs,” Fred replied. Mrs. Weasley opened the box and inspected the contents. She waved her wand over the box and muttered 'Finite incantatum!' before passing it back to Ron.
"So, you were practising the Wronski Feint again, hey?" asked George.
"Yes," replied Ron sheepishly. "I left it too late. I was actually pulling out as I hit. I should have pulled up sooner."
"Ah, well, a bit more practice, and you'll have it right. Wouldn't want to let any of those amateurs from Slytherin put one over you, hey?"
"No…I'll get it right next time."
Mrs. Weasley was beginning to boil. She was just about to let the twins have it when Mr. Weasley walked in.
"So, you forgot about the ground, did you?" he asked jovially. He'd asked about Ron's condition at the front desk, and decided that some gentle kidding was the best treatment he could provide for his son's injuries.
"Yeah, Dad. I was distracted by the cheering spectators." Everyone laughed, even Mrs. Weasley. She was allowing herself to feel relieved now.
"Now, Ronald, have you had anything to eat?" Mrs. Weasley asked, her motherly instincts asserting themselves.
"Not yet, but I'm really not very hungry, Mum,” he replied.
"Nonsense, I want you to have some of these,” she said bossily, handing him some mince pies and a bottle of pumpkin juice.
Ron accepted the inevitable. His mother wouldn't leave until she'd seen him eat something. He took a bite of mince pie and raised the pumpkin juice in a toast. "Here's to Quidditch and the Wronski Feint!"
Everyone except Mrs. Weasley laughed, but she did allow herself a small smile. Her son was safe...injured, but safe, and in good spirits. In fact, Ron was enjoying it. His leg didn't hurt anymore, and it wasn't often he had everyone's undivided attention. In fact, if it weren’t for Hermione's presence, he would have played it up a little more. He realised that what he wanted was for everyone else to go away, so he could enjoy her undivided attention.
"I think I'll have a rest now, Mum—I feel a bit tired."
"All right, everyone out of here,” Mrs. Weasley replied, bustling about, distributing Ron's clothes and the supplies of food and drink.
"See you, little bro',” said Fred and George. "Drop by Diagon Alley soon. We can fix you up with a Firebolt at trade price. We're members of the Alley Shopkeeper's Guild now, and we can take care of our special customers." They disapparated in a flash of light.
"Come on, Molly,” Arthur said. "Ron doesn't need us here now." He winked at Ron, who grinned until Mrs. Weasley looked at him.
"Well, I…" Mrs. Weasley started to fuss again, but Arthur bustled her out of the room.
Tonks then spoke. "I'll be outside the door all night. Have you got your mirrors?" she asked.
Hermione pulled her mirror out and showed Tonks, then searched for Ron's mirror in the luggage. It wasn't there. She looked at Ron and said to Tonks, "You'd better ask him what's in his back pocket."
Ron squirmed on the bed and withdrew his mirror, miraculously intact after the crash.
"Got it!" he replied happily.
"Okay. Hermione, don't keep him awake for too long," she said, grinning. "Goodnight, Ron. Goodnight, Hermione." Tonks left the room and closed the door.
Ron looked intently in to Hermione's eyes for a minute. She gazed back. There was nothing to say just yet. He eventually smiled and said, "Did I tell you how nice it was, lying with my head in your lap?"
She blushed and stammered "Y-you didn't have to fall off your broom to get my attention." She paused. "I liked it, too." Her eyes dropped, and she stared at the floor.
He hesitated, and then gathered his courage. "Hermione, I… I, um. Er… I l-love you and I want to spend my life with you."
The events of the afternoon caught up with her in a flash and she burst into tears. "Ron, I love you, too. I…" she stopped speaking as she was overwhelmed with emotion.
Ron reached for her hand and pulled her towards him. He gathered her in his arms and held her close, gently stroking her hair as she cried out the overload on her spirit. She sobbed quietly on his chest as she soaked in the confusion of fear, love, worry, and the strange cloud of blissful happiness that flooded her heart.
Ron realised after a while that Hermione had gone to sleep.
Broken leg aside, it had been a perfect day.
***
The next morning, Ron woke to see Hermione curled up in a visitor's chair beside his bed. She stirred and her eyes opened, blearily focussing on Ron. She smiled.
"Hi." He didn't want her to move. The look on her face would stay with him forever.
"How are you?" she asked shyly. She felt strange; exhilarated despite a night spent sleeping in a chair.
"I'm okay. How about you?"
She stretched and yawned, "I'm good. I feel..." She smiled again, and her expression hit him full force. She really loves me, he thought. They gazed into each other's eyes for a moment, and then she stepped out of the chair and sat on the bed beside him.
She leaned close, her lips parted slightly.
She kissed him on the lips.
Whoa! Ron thought, as he felt the tip of her tongue delicately stroke the side of his own.
His left hand reached upwards and cupped the back of her head, his fingers gently parting her hair. His other hand searched and found her hand, and their fingers clutched tightly at each other.
Some moments later they parted, breathless.
"Well…good morning,” Ron said.
She smiled and stroked his cheek. "Good morning...my love."
Ron was startled. Nobody had ever called him that. A massive grin slowly lit up his face. Hermione felt the warmth of his expression wash over her.
"I'm hungry,” he paused, "for breakfast." He laughed as she blushed and smiled.
"I'll see to it." She stood, then turned and hugged him tightly. "Ron, I…" she started to cry and quickly left the room.
Ron recalled Harry's description of kissing Cho Chang the previous year. What's with all the tears? he wondered. I hope she doesn't do that when Mum comes back.
After breakfast, Hermione bustled around the room, organising Ron's luggage for his trip home.
"When do I get out of here?" he asked. Lying around in a hospital bed was definitely not what he wanted to do. Events had caught up with him as well, and he was feeling wistful for familiar surroundings.
"You'll have to wait for the Healer to give you the all-clear,” she replied. "He's going to drop by later this morning. I suppose we'll be able to go home then."
The door opened and Ron's parents walked in accompanied by Tonks and Lupin. Remus looked as shabby as ever, his eyes baggy and his robes hanging about his slim frame. "Ronald!" There was nothing wrong with his mood. "Overdoing the tricky manoeuvres, I see!"
"Hello, Professor,” Ron replied. He was feeling almost boisterous this morning. "Nothing to it. Just point at the ground, and pull up before you crash! I need a bit of work on the last part, though."
Everyone laughed, relieved that Ron seemed to suffer no lasting effects from the accident.
"Have you had your breakfast, Ronald?" asked his mother.
"Yes, Mum. Tea, toast, bacon, eggs, more tea, and more toast. Oh, and bacon and eggs. When can I come home?"
"As soon as the Healer has seen you. I don't want to bring you back here with complications, Ronald Weasley,” she retorted.
"Hey, Tonks, what's been happening?" Ron asked.
"I've spoken to Dumbledore and Shacklebolt," she replied. ”They had a look around the field last night and didn't discover anything suspicious." That wasn't entirely true, but Tonks had been told to keep quiet in front of Mrs. Weasley.
"Well, I can't leave the ground without a broom. Hey, dad, can we drop by Diagon Alley on the way home? Fred and George have promised me a good price on a Firebolt."
"I don't know. How about you rest up for a while before shopping for a new broom?" Arthur replied. They simply didn't have enough money for a Firebolt, even at discount prices, but many hitherto closed doors at the Ministry had recently opened as a consequence of events during the past year, particularly after the conflict at the Department of Mysteries, and Arthur was determined to take advantage of his new 'friends'. Loyalties were already shifting away from Fudge, and political influence was flowing in new directions. Arthur had made enquiries about a sponsorship for Ron's possible career as a Quidditch player, and a new broom was already on its way to The Burrow. Ron was in for a surprise.
"I suppose so,” Ron replied, sadly. There was never enough money. He would have to borrow a broom from Fred or George, or worse, use Percy's old banger.
"How about a cup of tea, Molly?" Arthur asked. "I have to be back at work by ten o'clock. There's always a Muggle somewhere to be helped." Arthur smiled at the thought of the day's workload ahead of him, and he winked at Ron as he tugged at Mrs. Weasley 's arm.
"I'll see you at home later, Ronald. I've moved your bed to the lounge so you can be with us all the time," Mrs. Weasley called over her shoulder as Arthur pulled her from the room. There was silence for a moment after the door closed behind Mrs. Weasley, and then everyone laughed at the thought of Ron convalescing in the sitting room at The Burrow.
Tonks giggled. "I can just imagine it—'Mum, my leg hurts. Mum, I'm hungry. Mum, I need to go to the toilet’."
Ron blushed and protested, "I don't want to hang around the sitting room—I want to...go for a walk."
"Your mother will put me on the first Knight Bus home if I even hint that we should go for a walk," Hermione said anxiously.
"But I feel fine—and I need to exercise this leg. Sitting around won't do it any good." The Healer had promised that Ron would be up and about after a day's rest.
"Enough, you two,” Tonks interjected. "I've got some serious news." Ron and Hermione turned towards her, their expressions puzzled.
"What's up, Tonks?" Ron asked.
"I told Dumbledore about my chat with the oak tree's sprite, and he thought it was worth investigating. He spent more than an hour talking to it last night, and it seems that it's not just us that's responsible for the extra magic about the district. The sprite couldn't give him any details, but he's suspicious about your crash."
"But I told you...you saw it! I just didn't pull out in time!" Ron replied, anxious.
"Maybe, but I'm afraid it means no more private time for you and Hermione." She held up her hand as they both started to protest. "You can still go out for a walk, but Remus and I must be with you all the time, and NO flying.”
"Great...just great,” grumbled Ron. Hermione was silent. She was torn between her desire to be alone with Ron, and a realisation that life in the magical world was still dangerous.
"I'm sorry, but that's how it has to be,” Tonks continued. "I agree with Dumbledore—it's not worth the risk."
Ron didn't reply. He looked at Hermione with regret in his eyes. She gave him a tentative smile and spoke. "It's okay, we can still have some time together. There are lots of things I want to talk to you about."
Ron looked considerably more cheerful.
An hour later, the Healer walked into the room. "Ah, Mister Weasley. How's the leg today?" He drew back the bed sheet and examined Ron's leg.
"Feels as good as new. When can I get up and walk around?" he replied.
"No time like the present. Just take it easy for while. No running, jogging, bouncing, dancing, skating, and definitely no flying! The break has healed, but your body needs time to get over the shock. You might find it still hurts if you mistreat it. The bone broke very close to a previous injury. Did you break your leg sometime in the last couple of years?"
"Er, yeah—kind of,” Ron replied. He climbed warily out of the bed and Hermione stood ready to assist. Ron put his arm around her for a moment as he adjusted to being vertical. He slowly put some weight on the injured leg and let go of Hermione. He walked slowly around the room. "Feels fine!" he said brightly. "Let's go home."
"Fine. Off you go, then, just remember to go easy for a couple of days," said the Healer and left the room.
Tonks and Lupin gathered up most of Ron's luggage and took it outside. Hermione handed Ron an overnight bag, saying, "There's a change of clothes in there for you. Put your pyjamas back in the bag, then we can go." She gave him a hug. "I'm so glad you're better. Don't worry about us, we'll get some time together, I promise." She turned and left the room, closing the door behind her. Ron didn't see the mischievous smile on her face.
Ron opened the bag and took out his old jeans - the other pair was ruined in the crash. Great, thought Ron. More stuff I can't afford to replace. There was a t-shirt and a bright green pair of Chudley Cannons boxer shorts, along with socks and shoes.
He took off his pyjamas and put on the boxer shorts. A sudden noise startled him. It sounded like, well, a kissing sound. He quickly scanned the room to see if anyone else was still there, hiding. The noise continued. Ron looked down. The noise was coming from his boxer shorts! Bloody Fred and George! I'll kill them! he thought. As he searched about for his wand to silence the noise, it started to ease off, and after a minute it had stopped completely. Ron stood there with his wand pointed at the shorts, wondering whether he should cast a silencing spell. You really don't want to send a spell in that direction, Ron, he told himself. He decided to continue dressing and hex the twins some other time.
A few minutes later, he emerged from the room, carrying the bag.
"Let me help you,” Hermione said, taking the bag from him. She was suppressing another smile. "Everything all right, Ron?" she asked innocently.
"Sure, fine, couldn't be better,” he replied, although there was a certain squirm to his walk. Ron was terrified that the shorts would start making noises again. He should have taken them off.