Mr. and Mrs. Weasly arrived back at the hospital; Mrs. Weasly started crying when she saw her son lying helplessly. She was unable to help him. Arthur put his arm around her to comfort her. They sat at the bottom of his bead; the head healer arrived and spoke to them
“We have run some tests -- the next week will be crucial," he said. "We are busy making a potion that will secure his recovery, but it will take a week."
Mrs. Weasley whimpered.
The healer took a breath and continued, "He keeps saying the names 'Harry' and 'Hermione.' Now, we are not certain if he can hear in his unconscious state, but we think he probably can. Would it be possible for this Harry and Hermione to see him? It could help his recovery. Could even save his dwindling life.”
“Well you see, it’s complicated,” Molly said to the healer.
“I do not wish to sound rude, but do you want your son to live?" the healer sounded impatient. "If you do, you will do what ever you can to get them to visit him.”
With that, the healer left the room. Molly just stared at her son’s limp body lying on the bed. He was so pale; he had no colour in his cheeks. When she felt his hand, he was ice cold, he had no sign of life. He looked dead. The only way she could tell he was alive was his slow breathing, which sounded dreadful. Each breath he drew was worse than the first.
He kept mumbling phrases like, “Hermione … I ... I … ashamed,” and “Harry … sorry.” At this, Mrs. Weasly started to cry, as he was truly sorry for what he had done. She had been too hard on him. He had been angry and blinded by it, and had not known what he was doing. She turned toward her husband.
“Arthur, I going to see Harry and Hermione, to see if they will see him. I will beg if I have to," she said. "I cannot let him die. He’s my son; I love him, Arthur, even if he is a stupid prat at times.”
With that she gave her husband a strong hug and turned toward her daughter and said good-bye.
Hermione went up to her dorm; she wanted to be alone, to think about what had happened. Everything went by so fast, she could hardly believe it. She had had no time to process the events, which had taken place. She changed into her nighty, which was very short and had a picture of a Griffin on it; she hoped her parents would never see her in it. She slowly sank into her king-sized bed and looked around. The whole room was painted Gryffindor red and gold. A tall wardrobe stood in one corner, an elegant vanity table next to it. The room was very big. As she slowly curled up on top of the covers, she thought about Ron and what he had done to her.
He had nearly killed her. Why? Because she was going out with Harry. She could not help who she fell in love with. And she loved Harry, with all her heart.
Ron had said many times that he loved her, but she pushed him away saying there was someone else. But was that the problem. She had not been honest with him; every time she pushed him away, he would look so hurt. She decided he must really love her. But she could not return those feelings. The only one she loved was Harry James Potter, and he loved her -- he really loved her, she was sure of it.
At this thought, her mood changed, she was feeling angry and upset because of Ron's actions. But the thought of Harry made it all better. Knowing that, no matter what, he loved her. No matter what she did, he would be there for her. When she thought about Ron again, her previous feelings returned. Feelings of anger, pain and sorrow. How could she feel guilty about what he had done -- it was not her fault, after all. Was it?
Both Harry she had told him in the best way possible given the circumstances, yet he still lost it. With the thought of what he had done for her, she began to cry. No matter what she told herself, she still felt responsible.
There was a knock at the door, and Harry entered. He was shocked to see Hermione in this state. She was barley covered; he could see her pink frilly knickers under her nightly, and he thought he was going to die with embarrassment. Hermione noticed this and blushed. Drying her tears, she got up, slowly walked over to him and said, “You have nothing to be embarrassed about, I love you.”
Harry pulled her tight toward him; he placed his hand on her bum again. This time it felt different. He could feel the warmth through her knickers, the soft fabric that was clinging tightly to her skin.
She in turn was feeling his chest it was so firm and felt so good, but she wanted to talk. She whispered into his ear, “Not now. I want to get things with Ron sorted. I need to talk to you.”
Harry slowly removed his hand from her bum, turning around to make sure that Mr. and Mrs. Granger were not standing there. He was relieved when they weren't but stunned to see Mrs. Weasly. To his amazement, she wase crying smiling at them. She knew they really loved each other, that they were meant to be together. Nevertheless, she had to get them to see Ron.
Both Harry and Hermione blushed; Mrs. Weasly had heard everything -- not to mention she'd seen Harry feeling Hermione's bum.
“Sorry, you two, but I need to talk to you. It’s about Ron.”
“How is he?” Hermione said, sounding concerned. “Will he be all right?”
“That’s what I need to talk to you about. You see, the healers say he will be OK as long as he makes it through this week. I know it is a lot to ask, but he keeps saying your names ... would you ... be willing to ... come see him?”
Harry took a sharp tone, “Yeah, probably trying to curse us or something.”
Hermione shot him a stern look that told him he had said preceisely the wrong thing.
“I’m sorry ... that was uncalled for,” Harry quickly recovered.
“It’s all right dear," said Mrs. Weasley. "You must feel angry. But, you see the healers say if he is to make it, you have to go and see him. They say you could help to make him better.”
“But how?” Hermione said, looking shocked. Could she look at Ron again, let alone forgive him? Would Harry be able to do this? After all, he had had to watch as his best friend beat up his girlfriend.
“I do not know the details; they will probably tell me when you give me an answer. I will go down to the common room and wait for your answer.”
Molly went down the stairs, leaving Harry and Hermione in each other’s arms, looking at each other. They were lost for words. Hermione broke the silence by crying. She had been doing this a lot recently. Harry grabbed her tightly and said he would do what she thought best.
“Can we go on the bed? I need to talk to you.”
Harry led Hermione onto the bed. She was very tired; her legs suddenly gave way, and Harry caught her just in time. She was in his arms in no time. She felt the urge to kiss him, but resisted. She needed to talk to him. He gently placed her on the bed and lay beside her, looking into her eyes. They were bright red because of the crying she had been doing. Harry did not care; he just gazed and decided she was beautiful even when she was crying.
“Harry, I feel responsible for what happened to Ron," she said. Harry opened his mouth, but she quickly continued, "No, Harry, let me finish. About a year ago, Ron came up to me and said he loved me. I was taken aback; I turned him down because I loved you. Nevertheless, he persisted; I told him I loved someone else -- but not who it was."
She drew in a breath to quell a new set of tears that were forming. "I knew then that I loved you but just never knew how to tell you. Do you now understand how it’s my fault?”
Harry was still looking into her eyes, he never left her gaze. He loved her; he did not care about what happened in the past. As he thought about it, he realized whose fault it really was; he had finally found the truth.
“Hermione," he said gently, "the truth is that its Ron’s fault. Had he listened to you and respected your feelings and moved on, this would never have happened. It is he who should be apologising to you -- not the other way around. It is not your fault. You have to believe me and stop blaming yourself.”
Hermione was not sure what to say. She started crying and lunged onto Harry, her head on top of his shoulder, sobbing. Harry was startled to realize that Hermione was not wearing a bra; he could feel her through the thin cloth of her nighty. He silently scolded himself. He had to stop thinking like this -- he was supposed to be comforting her. He placed his arm around her back and hugged her. He whispered into her ear very softly, “Do you want to see him?”
“Yes,” she replied even softer. “I could not forgive myself if he died. I know what he has done is wrong, and I may never be able to truly forgive him. But I can’t see him die -- not after what we have been through together.”
With this, Harry pressed his lips against hers, he rubbed his tongue along her lips, he moved his hand up her top and felt her bare chest. She suddenly pulled away from him. Her face was red.
“Harry, I’m sorry, I love you very much, but I want to wait. Wait until this is sorted out. I love you.”
“Hermione, I love you too, and if you want to wait, I am OK with that. If you ever feel you do not want to do something, just tell me. I won’t be offended -- just promise me you will tell me.”
Hermione realized again why she had fallen in love with him. He was so sweet; he really loved her, cared for her and was willing to wait until she felt right. Hermione kissed him one more time, then kissed his ear. It was the first time she had done this, and Harry got goose bumps.
She then whispered into his ear, “I love you Harry, I always have and always will. I want our first time to be special.” And with that, she asked him to turn around. She got dressed and to two made their way to the common room to see Mrs. Weasly.
Author's note:
This story has nothing to do with JK Rowling or Waner Bros.
Hope you like this chapter. I would again like the thank every one who has reviewed.
Also hope you do not think I am as evil as before katti1456! Please comment on the story -- it means a lot when people review. Thanks for reading!