Disclaimor: Other than the two spell names, nothing here is original!
Hermione’s mind was racing, searching for a way to sneak out of the hospital without being stopped. From what she’d read about St. Mungo’s, she knew it had enchantments that made Apparating impossible in most areas, just like at Hogwarts. These enchantments were set in place to keep patients from doing exactly what Hermione was now attempting to do. To escape unnoticed.
Swinging her legs carefully out of bed, Hermione softly placed her feet on the floor and inclined her ear towards the hallway, listening to see if the talkative young Healer would soon be returning. As she laid her hand on the bedside table to balance herself, she noticed familiar warmth on her fingertips.
Hermione turned and shuffled through the pile of objects the young witch had hastily sprawled on the table, carelessly leaving it all behind in her search for the missing potion. Picking up a rather crumpled piece of parchment, Hermione found what she had been searching for. The girl had left behind her wand. It can’t be that easy, Hermione thought, almost disappointed that she wouldn’t need to organize a brilliant escape plan.
As she reached for the wand, Hermione felt pangs of guilt in her stomach. Her Healer would probably be in serious trouble for not keeping a closer eye on her charges, and somehow adding insult to injury by taking her wand as well just seemed cruel. Besides, as she was heading into a battle, it would be foolish to use a strange and unfamiliar wand. She’d just have to find her own.
Taking the wand in her hand, Hermione walked steadily to the door and peered around the corner. She couldn’t see anyone in the hallway, though she heard voices coming from a few doors down. Based on their conversation, Hermione reasoned it was the Healer’s workroom, a nurse’s station of sorts. I need a distraction, she said to herself. As this thought formulated, an elderly witch came scooting into the hallway.
Hermione looked sheepishly at the wand in her hand, and then back at the woman. No! Hermione thought. No, I can’t be seriously considering that! What have those boys done to me that I would honestly do something like that? The boys. That’s why she wanted to go back to the fight in the first place. To make sure Ron and Harry were safe, just like they had made sure she’d gotten to safety earlier in the day. Hermione took a deep breath and raised the wand. “Inasnumotum!” she chanted quietly.
The old witch momentarily stopped dead in her tracks, dropping the goblet of water she’d been clutching tightly. A strange smile started to spread across her face, and her hands began to twitch. Then, to Hermione’s shock and amusement, the woman let out a shrill trill like a fire siren and ran hurtling down the hall, her arms flailing in the air and her mousey gray hair flying wildly behind her. Hermione dove behind the door as a dozen Healers emerged from different rooms at the commotion and ran quickly down the hall to contain the woman. This is my chance, Hermione told herself. “Accio wand!” Hermione summoned. Her wand came zooming through the air, unnoticed over the clamor at the end of the hall. Snatching at her wand, Hermione tossed the other to her bed and then moved as quickly out the door as her body could take her.
She made very slow progress, her muscles still feeling rather uncooperative. But, as guilty as she felt for doing it, the spell she’d cast seemed to be working wonders as not a single person questioned her as she made her way down the hallway. It was only when Hermione had made it to the ground floor that someone had realized she was not in the right place.
She let out a tiny squeal as a large wizard came chasing after her. Firing a Jelly-Legs Jinx over her shoulder (that must have hit dead on based on the sudden crashing sound she heard moments later), Hermione pushed herself painfully across the floor. Just a few more steps and she could Apparate. A few more steps and she could follow after Ron. Her small, bare feet stepped into the Apparation area, and Hermione turned on the spot without hesitation.
As Ron was the last thing on Hermione’s mind before Apparating, it came as little surprise to her that she landed in his bedroom. She had Apparated just in front of his bedroom window, and upon gazing outside she realized many hours had passed since she’d been taken away to St. Mungo’s. The haze of smoke and dust had cleared, leaving behind the remains of a once beautiful wedding. In the center of it all there was a large hole in the ground. That’s where Percy cast the Blasting Charm, Hermione thought to herself.
It was hard to believe that a spell originally designed to destroy Doxy nests could cause so much damage. The spell was ingenious really when it came to getting rid of small pests. You aim the charm at the center of the object and it explodes like a small bomb. After the explosion a shockwave goes through the air rendering pests within a close proximity senseless so you can dispose of them quickly. The larger the object, the more concentration and energy it takes to cast a strong enough charm. Based on the size of the hole in the ground, Percy’s charm had been enormous. Had Hermione not reached for Percy’s wand from behind his back…
Hermione tore her eyes away from the window. She couldn’t think about that now. She was alive and she had work to do. Everything was desperately quiet, which frightened her. Battles should be loud, noisy. Hermione heard nothing.
She took a step towards the door then looked down at her bare feet and hospital gown. She needed to change, and fast. Perhaps she could stop by Ginny’s room? But no, there could be a fight waiting to happen just outside the door.
Hermione quickly turned to Ron’s wardrobe, grabbing whatever clothes she could find. Laying them out on the bed, she waved her wand in a tricky pattern, transfiguring the items into clothes of her own size. McGonagall would be proud, Hermione thought as she hastily dressed and moved to the door.
The house was dark and silent. Hermione almost lit her wand, and then thought better of it. Best not to draw excess attention to herself before she knew the situation. She slowly descended the stairs, keeping her eyes and ears on guard for any oncoming attacks. But there was no one around, friend or foe. She was starting to get anxious as she approached the final landing of stairs.
That was when she heard something. The sound was faint, distant. She carefully moved down a few steps when she saw something that nearly brought her to her knees. Ron was lying on the ground, being tortured by two Death Eaters. Hermione’s feet wouldn’t move. Why wouldn’t they move? She needed to get to him, to help him. She was at a terrible angle to cast any kind of defensive spell, she needed to get closer, but her body was frozen.
Blindly she raised her wand and sent the first spell that came to her mind. A half-dozen small yellow birds suddenly appeared out of nowhere and shot like bullets toward the Death Eaters. Hermione came to her senses as one of them let out a scream, slapping desperately at the attacking swarm. She ran to the base of the stairs, firing two Stunning Spells, bringing both Death Eaters to the ground.
Hermione was seconds away from racing to Ron’s side when he suddenly sat up. He made a grab for something in the stunned Death Eaters hand and then leapt off the ground and straight at her. Shocked at his sudden movement, an involuntary scream attempted to leave her mouth, but Ron quickly clamped his hand over it as he roughly pulled her off the stairs, out of sight, and into a dark closet where he pressed her wordlessly into a wall.
It seemed like an eternity before Ron was able to comprehend what had just happened. The person standing on the stairs had probably just saved his life, and yet something didn’t seem right. Something was terribly off about the whole thing. Three Death Eaters had come after him at once, and a fourth was very close by standing as though he was searching for something… or someone.
Ron suddenly snapped into a sitting position. Birds. Someone had attacked Malfoy with birds. It can’t be her, Ron thought desperately, she was the only one I knew was safe!
Ron made a desperate grab for his wand and then moved quickly towards the figure on the stairs. The person standing there moved, as if startled. On instinct Ron’s hand shot out, tightly covering the mouth of the unknown figure. They couldn’t risk drawing any more attention to themselves than they already had. Ron lifted the person off the ground and carried them hastily into the dark corners of the Burrow.
It was in picking her up that Ron realized that what he had feared was true. This was indeed Hermione. He knew it not by looking at her, because he couldn’t make out her face in the darkness or distinguish any of her features. He knew it was Hermione by the way she’d reacted when he’d grabbed her. Startled but not afraid, confused but not fighting to get away. She was trusting somehow, gently grabbing his forearms for support as he hastily carried her through the house.
Ron didn’t think where to hide. His feet had just somehow made their way to a rather hidden closet at the back of the Burrow. Soundlessly he ushered Hermione and himself inside, closing the door behind them. The closet would have been small even if just one person were hiding. Hermione was pressed rather tightly against the wall, her eyes wide and startled by the situation.
Ron couldn’t think straight. It felt like he’d left his mind behind him at the base of the stairs. He looked around him helplessly, as it searching for some direction. This was the closet Fred and George used to play in, Ron remembered. It had been their “secret” hiding place. Dad had added a small window toward the top of the wall for them. He’d thought they could use a little sunlight since they used to spend hours hiding in this small space.
Ron followed the moonlight streaming through the window and looked intently at Hermione. She was breathing heavily, her eyes wide and searching. Why had she come back? Why had she risked it? How was he going to protect her now? Ron, feeling utterly at a loss, felt his body slump slightly. He brought his head forward and rested it softly on Hermione’s forehead, then slowly removed his hand from her lips.
“Silenocculo!,” Hermione whispered immediately, waving her wand at the door and window. Ron couldn’t help but smile. Leave it to Hermione to remember all her spells at a time like this.
“What are you doing here?” Ron finally asked her weakly, unable to think of anything else to say.
“I could ask you the same thing,” she replied, her voice cracking slightly.
“I had to come back.”
“So did I.”
Hermione raised her head and looked Ron in the eye. He could just barely see the three scars on her face in the pale light. Her short hair reflected the bluish glow of the moon, creating a soft halo around her face. His stomach flip-flopped unexpectedly. This isn’t the right time for that, he told himself angrily. She deserves more than this!
Ron felt Hermione’s hand moving. Her fingers found his hand and softly intertwined themselves with his. He found his other hand moving to touch her face, his fingers gently tracing the thin, faded lines of her scars and then sliding slowly to her hair. He was startled to see tears pooling in her eyes as he did this. Now is not the right time! She’s been through too much, he fought with himself uselessly. His hand slid down her cheek and gently raised her chin. This isn’t going to solve any of your problems; you know that! The nagging voice of reason continued, but all Ron listened to were his senses. His senses that screamed in victory as he softly wrapped his arms around Hermione’s waist and kissed her deeply.
Hermione’s heart raced as Ron shut the door to the closet, pinning her body between himself and the wall. She breathed deeply, relaxing herself. She tried to take in Ron’s features, attempting to gauge what he was thinking and why he had pulled them into hiding in such a drastic manner.
Ron was looking around the tiny closet, as though he were lost. As he turned his head to face Hermione, she thought her heart would break at the helpless look in his eyes. I’m glad I came back, she told herself. No matter what happens to us, I’m glad that I came back for him. Ron slumped slightly, as though he had been partially deflated, and laid his head on Hermione’s. His hand slowly slid down her mouth and to his side. I need to talk to him, she told herself, looking at his face. We need to plan our next move.
“Silenocculo!” she murmured, blocking sound from escaping through the door and window. She thought she caught a small look of amusement on Ron’s face, and felt herself blushing slightly.
“What are you doing here?” Ron asked softly after a second, looking intently at her face.
For a brief moment, anger started to rise in Hermione’s chest. Why shouldn’t I be here? she thought with annoyance. But the anger subsided when she saw the deeply worried look on Ron’s face. “I could ask you the same thing,” she finally replied, struggling to keep control of her emotions under Ron’s piercing gaze.
“I had to come back,” Ron said, a tone of strength and defiance in his voice.
“So did I.” Hermione looked directly in Ron’s eyes as she said this. She needed him to understand that she felt the same way that he did. The Weasleys were like her family. Harry had truly become like a brother to her. And Ron… well, she couldn’t define what Ron meant to her. The image of Ron being tortured under the Cruciatus Curse flashed through her mind, making her heart beat wildly for a moment. She reached out her hand, searching for Ron’s in the dark, confined closet, and was gratified to feel his fingers wrapping protectively around her own. Ron raised his other hand to her face. Hermione held back a cringe as he softly touched the scars on her cheek.
As his hand slid into her hair, Hermione saw it. The look she’d seen in her own reflection at the hospital. The look of experience. Of having the weight of the world upon your back, and a stubborn resignation to keep going no matter what. It was there in Ron’s eyes. Etched into his face, his body, and his energy. Hermione felt hot tears burning her eyes. That stranger in the mirror at the hospital, the reflection that had suddenly seemed so foreign to her, now made perfect sense.
She and Ron had changed. Their promise to Harry, and the realization of what it could mean for them both, had changed them. No one else in the world could truly understand what it was like for her. The fear and anxiety she always felt. The pride at being there to help with something so important, and the slight jealousy towards those who could separate themselves from such terrible times. No one could understand, except for Ron.
His hand slid down her cheek, lifting her chin slightly higher. It was like they had both suddenly realized, even sensed, that there was more between them now than ever before.
As Ron kissed her, Hermione felt a sense of peace she had not known for a long time. It startled her how calming it was, being in Ron’s arms, pressed ridiculously into a wall. Snogging sweetly when instant death could be just moments away. She reveled in the moment, knowing it would end all too soon.
Author's Note: Aww, the best chapter of any shipper fic, the first kiss!! I had a ton of fun writing this chapter, hope you enjoyed it. The next has a bit more "closet time," though we start delving a little bit more into the mystery of this attack (i.e. what has happened to Harry, are Ron's suspicions that something isn't "right" founded, etc), and the story may get a little more nail biting as we head down the road. STAY TUNED!!
Senses by Gryffinpuff
Chapter Notes: The surest aid in combating the male's disease of self contempt is to be loved by a clever woman.
Friedrich Nietzsche