J.K. Rowling is a genius. I am a writer who enjoys playing with the other kids' toys. No infringement is intended.
Thanks so much to Natalie/HestiaJones for beta reading.
Scenes From Shell Cottage ~ Chapter Four
“Fleur says you should all wash up and come to the table,” Bill said, poking his head into the living room to make the announcement. He turned to go back and help his wife, but suddenly spun to face them again. “Oh yeah, and she says not to wake Hermione under any circumstances.”
Dean, Harry and Ron all looked toward the end of the sofa, where Hermione had been sleeping since right after lunch. As if she hadn’t been through enough physically, it had been a long, emotional morning, too. They had buried Dobby, met with Griphook and Mr. Ollivander, and debriefed everything with Harry in the yard. Then she and Ron had gone a few more rounds over the issue of the Elder Wand, now in Voldemort’s possession. She felt strongly that Harry had made the right decision; Ron thought it was crazy to let Voldemort have it when they might have been able to prevent it.
During lunch, she had grown increasingly quiet and, to Ron’s eyes, a bit pale. He’d tried to persuade her to go upstairs to bed for a real nap, as Luna had, but she’d refused, insisting she was fine. She had listened to some conversation about Quidditch, and how much the boys all missed it, for about fifteen minutes before her head drooped into the corner of the sofa and she was down for the count. Harry had tossed Ron a blanket from the back of his chair and Ron had draped it over her. That was hours ago. Chess had been played, and the others had slept a bit as well, trying to make up for being up all night and the general emotional exhaustion they were all experiencing.
As the friends now made their way toward the dining area, Harry looked back at Hermione’s sleeping form. “She’s not going to be happy about being late for dinner.”
“And you know it won’t be Fleur getting the blame for it either,” Ron said.
They sat down around the table, Luna joining them as they settled into chairs. Dean, Harry, and Luna sat on one long side, with Bill and Fleur on either end, and Ron occupying one side by himself. There was an empty chair beside him, presumably for Hermione, if she joined them. Fleur’s seat was vacant at the moment, as she was scurrying around with last minute details. Ron asked if she needed any help, and she called back that she was all right.
“Hermione must be exhausted,” Bill commented.
“I reckon,” said Harry.
“Fleur, you should really let us wake her up,” called Ron. “She’ll kill us for making her late to the table.”
Fleur came in carrying several items. “It’s good to see you are thinking of her well being rather than your own, Ron,” she said good-naturedly.
“You don’t know what she’s like when she’s furious,” Ron added, half-smiling in return, and glancing at Harry for support.
“’Suppose she does have a bit of a temper,” Harry offered.
“Unlike my baby brother here, who never raises his voice or says a cross word to anyone.” Bill was grinning at Ron, who looked sheepish.
Fleur took two trays upstairs while the friends chatted easily around the table. Fleur was coming back into the room when the conversation took an abrupt turn.
“What’s the matter with your face?” a serene voice asked.
Everyone looked Luna’s way to determine whose face was being condemned. She was watching Ron as though she found him quite interesting. The others followed her gaze.
“What?” he wanted to know.
“Your face,” Luna said again, eyes wide.
“Oh, yeah. I think there's something broken in here,” he said, brushing his cheekbone. “It’s all right.”
“I can fix it,” she offered.
“I already offered to fix it,” Bill interjected. “Twice. Ron’s stalling.”
“I offered, too,” said Harry. “I assumed he thought I would have a little too much fun with that project.”
Ron gave him a dour look.
“I fixed my father’s nose once,” said Luna dreamily to general disinterest.
The matter dropped for the time being, as Fleur served everyone bowls of steaming stew and Bill placed the side dishes in the middle of the table. Ron looked as if he’d just been handed the Quidditch Cup. After living on fish and mushrooms for so long, this was a grand feast indeed. Even Harry, who rarely complained about the food they’d had to manage on these past weeks, could not deny his mouth was watering. They began to eat, and the conversation turned to general news. Dean talked a bit about his time in hiding before he hooked up with the others, and then Harry filled Luna in on their visit to her house, leaving out all the pertinent information, of course.
“We saw the mural on your ceiling, Luna”it’s brilliant,” Harry finished.
“Yeah, it really is,” added Ron sincerely.
By the expression on her face, Luna may or may not have heard them. She was stirring her stew with a look of keen curiosity. Ron and Harry looked at one another, stifling grins.
A moment later, Luna’s eyes were rounder than usual. “Speaking of news, I must be the last to know yours, Ron.”
Ron pulled a face in Harry’s general direction, careful not to be noticed by Luna. Harry shrugged, indicating he had no idea. Ron swallowed another mouthful of bread, hoping the conversation would die a natural death. No such luck.
“What news, Ron?” Bill asked with interest.
Ron had opened his mouth to say he had no news of any kind when it happened.
Luna looked at Bill and said simply, “Ron is in love with Hermione.”
Ron’s spoon stopped in mid-air, hovering halfway between his bowl and his mouth. For a split second, no one moved and Ron wondered if it might not have really happened. But then several things occurred at once, and he knew it was unfortunately quite real. Bill, who was new to Luna, could not keep from laughing in shock despite an admirable attempt to reign it in. Harry choked on his drink and was unable to sort himself out for several minutes. Dean busied himself thumping Harry on the back and asking if he was all right. Fleur excused herself and headed toward the stove, trying unsuccessfully to hide a satisfied grin behind her blonde locks. As for Ron, he nearly broke his neck checking to make sure Hermione had not been walking into the room when this pronouncement had come forth. Once he knew the coast was clear, he turned to Luna with an incredulous look. “Luna!”
“Didn’t everyone else already know?” she asked curiously.
Harry, still recovering, managed to croak, “Um, not exactly, Luna.”
“Harry!” Ron said desperately, knowing his friend had just confirmed the truth to everyone in the room.
“What?”
“It was perfectly obvious at the Malfoy’s, Ron,” Luna said easily. “Doesn’t everyone else agree?”
Ron, whose face increasingly resembled the color of the Gryffindor common room, looked at Dean to see if he agreed with her conclusion. Dean checked on Harry again, and looked disappointed there would be no more choking to require his help.
“At first, I was quite surprised.” Luna, unbelievably, was still talking. “You two always seem to be bickering about something, don’t you?” Then she spread a little butter on a piece of bread and took a bite, chewing slowly. When she finished, she concluded, “But the more I think about it, the nicer it is.”
Ron looked helplessly at Harry, who was torn between sympathy and the need to laugh.
They heard a scuffle toward the living area and all heads turned to see Hermione in the doorway with a sleepy and embarrassed look on her face. If possible, Ron grew even redder.
“Oh, hello, Hermione,” Luna said brightly. “Did you have a nice rest?”
Hermione ignored her and addressed their hostess. “I’m so sorry, Fleur. You must think me terribly rude. I don’t know why no one woke me up,” she said, shooting both Ron and Harry menacing looks.
“Don’t be silly. I insisted everyone let you rest as long as you were able. How are you feeling?”
“Much better actually,” she said, sounding more like herself than she had since they had arrived. “I’ll wash and be right back.”
Fleur nodded and Hermione disappeared briefly. While she was gone, Harry whispered furiously to Luna, telling her that Hermione didn’t know and to please not mention anything more about it. Ron didn’t know the content of what was shared, but he guessed correctly and gave Harry a grateful look.
Everyone was quite busy with their food when Hermione reentered and took the seat next to Ron, who visibly stiffened. The tense atmosphere did not escape Hermione’s notice. She looked across the table at Harry but couldn’t seem to catch his eye. In fact, she had a difficult time catching anyone’s eye at all. To break the silence, she finally asked Fleur how Mr. Ollivander and the goblin were doing, and then the conversation seemed to right itself.
When the meal was over, Harry and Bill cleared the table and Fleur served tea and some delicious tarts. Hermione turned to look at Ron, who had been unnervingly quiet through the entire meal. “Everything all right?” she asked.
“What?” he said, startled. “Oh. Yeah. All right.”
She thought he was acting quite strangely, but let it go when she noticed something else. “You still haven’t let anyone fix your face, have you?” she wanted to know.
“Er, uh…”
“You haven’t. Doesn’t it hurt?”
“Some. Not too bad.”
“Well, you can’t just leave it like that. You look ridiculous.”
Dean stifled a laugh, and Harry was visibly struggling.
“I offered to fix it, too,” said Luna. “And Bill. And Harry.”
Hermione thought this over. “Oh, honestly, Ron, don’t be a baby. It’s only going to hurt for a second,” she said, picking up her wand from the table.
“Whoa,” Ron said, coming alive. “You’ve not had much practice with that.”
“You don’t trust me?” she asked, insulted. “How many times have I stitched you up in the last several months?”
Harry noticed that Bill reacted to this information with a concerned face in Ron’s direction.
“This isn’t the same,” Ron was saying. “It isn’t a flesh wound. This is bone”my face.”
“Are you quite finished?”
Ron looked first to his brother, then to Harry, for help. Bill shook his head, smiling.
Harry said, “You do look a mess, mate. Better get it over with. It won’t be so bad.”
"Dad screamed when I did his nose,” Luna said helpfully.
Ron winced. “Just do it then.” He shrunk down, closing his eyes in anticipation of the pain.
Hermione needed no further encouragement. With a quick swish of her wand, she said firmly, “Episkey!”
Ron cried out, clutching the side of his face. Unfortunately the pain was neither little nor quick, for he continued to moan and complain loudly for several moments. When Hermione finally pulled his hands down to see the results, there was a collective gasp around the table. She had not righted the break at all, and now his ear on that side hung down awkwardly. Her hand flew to her mouth and she cried, “Oh, no!”
“Oh, no?” Ron repeated, alarmed. “What? What happened? Blimey, it hurts!”
“Try again, Hermione,” coaxed Harry, surprised at this turn of events. Hermione did not often make this kind of mistake. “Concentrate.”
Ron looked positively fearful as she swished and flicked, saying again, “Episkey!” If possible, the problem grew even worse. Now Ron was yelling in pain and clutching both sides of his face. “Hermione!” he growled angrily, overtaken by agony.
“What’s going on?” Harry asked her anxiously.
Tears pooled in her eyes as she turned desperately to the others. “Someone else do it”hurry! I don’t know what’s wrong.”
Bill quickly performed the same healing charm, and this time, it worked. No one said anything except Hermione, who was sniffing a lot and apologizing. Harry and Dean told her not to worry about it”that the new wand would take a little getting used to. But her expression remained woeful, and Harry knew she would not feel better until Ron reassured her himself. Which, for some reason, he didn’t. He only rubbed his jaw in silence, recovering for a few minutes before excusing himself and going outside, his expression unreadable.
Knowing Hermione was about to burst into tears, Harry abruptly thanked Fleur for the delicious meal and wondered aloud if anyone felt like playing chess. Bill and Dean decided to play first, and Luna went to help Fleur with the cleanup. Hermione slipped upstairs to the room she shared with Luna, Harry following a few minutes later.
The door was open a couple of inches, so Harry pushed it the rest of the way. She was at the window, looking down toward Dobby’s grave, crying.
“Hermione, it’s really not that bad.”
She turned at his voice. “Not that bad? Harry, what’s going on? What’s wrong with me? I should have been able to do that! Do you think it’s the wand? Or do you think after what happened to me… maybe something’s gone wrong in my head…you know, Neville’s parents…” she trailed off, obviously terrified of this possibility.
He walked over to her and put his hands on her shoulders. “Hermione. Nothing is wrong with you. You heard what Ollivander said. You didn’t take this wand by force; you didn’t win it. You’ll just have to practice a bit and I know you’ll get the hang of it.”
She looked unsure, but he could see she wanted to believe him.
“There’s nothing wrong with your ability. I had a hard time adjusting to your wand at first, too, remember? You’ll be just as good once you teach this wand who its new master is.”
She nodded, hoping he was right. She wiped her eyes and gave him a hug. “Thanks.”
When they embraced, Harry had a view out the window, and realized Hermione had likely not been looking at Dobby’s grave after all. Ron was leaning on the stone wall just beyond the garden, staring out at the sea.
She released him and followed his eyes. The vulnerable look returned to her face. “He’s angry,” she said quietly. “I don’t blame him. I would never have done it if I’d thought for a moment…”
“He knows that. I think he’s just embarrassed. Luna was being kind of… well, Luna, before you came in. There were some awkward moments. You noticed how quiet he was even before you tried the spell.”
“I suppose.”
“He’ll be all right. You know he can never stay mad at you for long,” he grinned.
“You said you didn't think he was mad at me.”
“Right," he covered up quickly. "I just meant… you know, if he was...”
A few minutes later, they descended the stairs together, Harry to join the others, Hermione to slip outside with Fleur’s shawl wrapped around her shoulders.