Disclaimer: Nothing here belongs to me, anything you recognize comes from the world Rowling created.
Ron landed rather unsteadily, almost toppling over with Hermione in his arms. He warily opened his eyes, and sighed with relief when he saw he was at St. Mungo’s. He chanced a look at himself and Hermione, and nearly yelled with glee to see they had both made it in one piece, unsplinched. He didn’t have a chance for celebration, however, as he was now being surrounded by Healers. People were shouting orders and suddenly Hermione was being taken away. Ron momentarily panicked. They couldn’t take her; she needed him! They needed to stick together. He needed to make sure she would be okay.
An older witch with a kind face spoke reassuringly to Ron as she saw the worried look on his face. “She’s in excellent hands, my boy, she’ll be alright,” the witch soothed. “You did the right thing bringing your girlfriend here; we can take proper care of her. You need some attention yourself, come with me now.”
Ron, dazed, allowed the woman to lead him into another room. Girlfriend, Ron said the word to himself. She called Hermione my girlfriend. He was somehow happy at this idea, at the notion that they really could be that way together. He’d never considered it, not truly. She was his best friend; he’d always assumed it would be impossible. And yet the mere mention of it being likely, however small that possibility might be, was enough to make Ron’s heart race. Ron thought of what Harry had said just before he’d Apparated. The look on Harry’s face when he’d said the words; ‘You can do it, for Hermione.’ Did Harry think it was possible too? Harry…
“I can’t stay here,” Ron blurted out suddenly. “I need to go.” The wizard that was healing the cut on his arm looked up at him quizzically. There was still a fight going on, Harry and his family were back there. He needed to go. Hermione was safe now, and he needed to go. A few Healers tried to hold Ron back, screaming that he needed to stay, but in the end Ron broke free and Apparated before anyone could stop him.
The sound of muffled voices was the first thing Hermione noticed. It sounded like she was in a deep hole, emerging excruciatingly slow into a bustlingly busy world above. It was the light she noticed next. It was bright. Startlingly bright, and almost painful. No, she wouldn’t open her eyes, she didn’t want to wake. Not yet. She was content to lie in Ron’s protective arms for now. It was then that Hermione realized she was no longer being held. She gasped and moved her arms instinctually, searching for a sign that she wasn’t alone. Her hands seared with pain as she moved them, bringing her violently to the surface of her current situation.
Her eyes opened wide, and she screamed at the shock of the brightness. Where am I? Hermione thought frantically, suddenly feeling frenzied movements all around her and hurried voices.
‘Is that sleeping draft ready yet?’
‘Poor thing, must have been close when the Blasting Charm went off…’
‘Hold her still!’
‘Relax, we’re trying to help you…’
Hermione was flailing wildly now, much to the distress of the Healers, but nothing they said was going to calm her. She was beyond sense, beyond wisdom or kind words. For the first time in her life, Hermione felt truly scared. It was primal, a natural delayed reaction to all that had happened to her in the past hour. The pain, the fear, and now the sense of being all alone.
“Ron?” the word left her body weakly. “Ron!” she tried again. In response she felt someone open her mouth and pour and cool liquid down her throat. She gagged and choked, but the potion’s effects were quick. Relaxation took control, and Hermione felt as though she were descending into pleasant darkness.
It seemed, without such precious cargo, that Ron still had some difficulties with Apparating. He landed in a large tree in his backyard, grabbing frantically to a branch to keep himself from falling. For a moment Ron felt relieved there was a battle going on. His brothers would never have let him live this down if they’d seen. Then his thoughts turned to Percy.
Percy had always been a bit different than the rest of them. Always better behaved, following every rule to the letter. So much so that he became a total git and turned away from his family! Ron realized the memory of that time would always make him angry. No matter what, he would always remember that about Percy. But he was still my brother, Ron thought defiantly, suddenly tightening his grip on his wand. And Dad was right…he did make amends.
It was hard to believe only a month had passed since Percy had turned up at the Burrow, exhausted and covered in cuts and bruises from head to toe. It had been Ginny that had found him. Ron could still hear the piercing scream that awakened the whole house, when Ginny awoke to find Percy in her bedroom. His mother had cried horribly when she first saw him. His father had simply taken his son in his arms; all anger or disappointment forgotten.
When Percy was finally strong enough to talk, he had told them about a discovery he had made at the Ministry. One night he had been working late on something for Scrimgeour, the Minister of Magic himself, when he noticed a discrepancy in his paperwork. It hadn’t involved the Minister directly, but it related to the dealings of the Ministry. It also had something to do with Harry, though Percy could no longer say what exactly. Percy remembered leaving his office, to look for someone to discuss the problem with, but he could remember nothing afterwards. “It was a Memory Charm, and a strong one at that!” That’s what the Healers at St. Mungo’s had told them. Whatever Percy had discovered, someone else wanted to know about it, and based on his injuries it seemed they’d spent quite a long time trying to get it out of him…
Ron shook the memory of Percy’s battered body from his mind and then gazed through the branches of the tree towards the smoke in the distance. Whatever Percy had discovered, whatever pain he had endured, it had made him realize he still needed his family. They had all seen it in his eyes. Even the twins had eventually forgiven him, seeing Percy’s determination to make it up to them all. And he had come so far, having apologized for so much, only to be taken away so suddenly. And by the same people that had hurt him. Tortured him. The people who had probably gotten the information they’d been searching for by using the Imperius Curse, only to use it on him again, making him a means to an end to get what they wanted.
Ron swallowed a lump in his throat. He knew what he had to do. He had to find the rest of them. His brothers, Ginny, his parents, and Harry, who was like a brother to him in more ways than one. I’ll find them, just like I found Hermione, Ron told himself. Knowing at least Hermione was safe gave Ron comfort as he leapt deftly to the ground and sprinted toward the fray, all sense of self-preservation gone in his determination to bring everyone else that he loved out of harm’s way.
Hermione didn’t know how many hours had passed when she finally awoke again. This time it didn’t hurt when she opened her eyes, and though her body still ached when she moved, the pain was much more bearable, nagging at her dully. She took in her surroundings, breathing deeply. I must be in the hospital, she reasoned, looking at the bed she was in and the gown she was wearing. Her heart warmed as she realized Ron must have brought her here, and then cooled as she suddenly remembered the last time she’d awoken.
She could feel herself blushing. She knew she’d panicked, and vaguely wondered how far over the edge she had actually gone. As a rule, Hermione didn’t like to lose control of her emotions. Her whole life she’d been told how capable she was, with her studies and with her interpretations of others and their actions. With her talents, she had always known she was more than able to handle things on her own, and to keep herself in check.
That’s a lie, and you know it! Hermione scolded herself. Hermione sighed and closed her eyes. It really was a lie. Somehow, her resolve and calmness came crashing down when Ronald Weasley was involved. It had always been that way, ever since their first year at Hogwarts. Back then Hermione had known she was bossy, and sometimes too smart for her own good, but it was only when Ron had told her so that she’d felt hurt. Sure, they’d become amazingly close friends since that time, but he still always managed to affect her in that way. At the Yule Ball, last year when he was with Lavendar… today in this very hospital. Perhaps it was his bluntness, his lack of subtlety that made him affect her so. He saw right through her, somehow knew her deep down. Even if he does have the emotional range of a teaspoon, Hermione laughed to herself.
Where is he? Hermione pondered, opening her eyes and looking once more around the room. Weighing the amount of soreness she felt in her body, Hermione decided she’d risk trying to get out of bed. It wasn’t easy at first. It felt like she hadn’t used her limbs in months and her back was rather tight, but the pain was manageable. Walking slowly around the room, feeling her body awaken with each step, she wondered if Ron was perhaps in a room of his own.
Hermione froze as she turned to face the door. Standing in the corner was a tall wardrobe with a large mirror along the front, and Hermione could just barely see herself in its reflection. Nearly tripping in her hurry, Hermione staggered to the mirror, her heart falling as she saw her reflection up close.
The first thing she mourned was her hair. It was true; Hermione’s hair had always been a little wild, frizzy and extremely long. But in truth she had always liked it, no matter what anyone else thought. And now it was gone. She raised her hands slowly, touching the short locks gingerly with her fingers. She noticed some of the edges looked burned, and guessed that the rest had been trimmed to match the length. She then ran her fingers over three fading lines on her face. She supposed just a short time ago they had been deep cuts. They’ll probably fade completely over time, Hermione reassured herself, though she didn’t entirely believe it.
Taking a step back, she surveyed the rest of her body. Her hands and parts of her arms and legs had been covered in a strange substance. It almost looked like the plastic wrapping her mother used with cooking, completely clear and flexible, melded perfectly against her skin. Underneath the covering, her skin looked horribly red and raw, though remarkably she didn’t feel the pain that normally accompanies such drastic burns. Instead, her skin felt pleasantly cool beneath the covering, like she was submerged in water or lying in soft snow. The substance was obviously working its magic well.
Unwilling tears started to pool in Hermione’s eyes. She shook her head lightly, willing them away with all her might. Hermione had never considered herself a great beauty, or really ugly for that matter. She’d never really cared about how she looked. Not like the other girls, at least. So why should she care now? She looked at herself again and a few tears escaped her eyes. I don’t look like me anymore, Hermione thought desperately taking a ragged breath.
But it was more than the faint scars or her hair that had changed. It was something in her eyes, in her very aura. She looked seasoned, and troubled. How can someone learn to love who you are, when you don’t even know yourself anymore? Hermione thought with a sigh, angry at herself for thinking about such foolish things.
“Up and about, I see!”
Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin as a young witch with dirty blonde hair and a smiling face covered in freckles entered the room.
“After all you’ve been through, ya shouldn’t be walkin’ around yet!” she said merrily as she ushered Hermione back to her bed. “I’ll have to keep an eye on you, I will! Wouldn’ want you runnin’ off like tha’ other one did. Caused quite a stir your boyfriend did, runnin’ away from the Healers and Apparatin’ before they could stop him! Into bed with you! Now where did I put tha’ potion?” the girl said as she started emptying out the pockets of her robe and placing their contents on a small table. “Was rather brave of him though, runnin’ back to the battle an all. Had loads of patients come in from tha’ one! Blast, I musta left it…”
Hermione could hear the girl talking nonstop as she left the room and went to retrieve the missing potion, though she did not pay much attention. Ron had gone back to the fight. And that’s exactly where I need to be.
Senses by Gryffinpuff
Chapter Notes: Knowing others is wisdom; Knowing the self is enlightenment; Mastering others requires force; Mastering the self needs strength
-Lau Tzu