Hermione in the Hospital Wing

By Tallemera Rane

Summary: A trip through Hermione's visit to the hospital wing in HBP after Ron is poisoned.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything Harry Potter. I sorely wish Harry had just stumbled into my head, fully formed, all those years ago…

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She had been sitting there for a few hours, but it felt like days. People always made stupid analogies to time, it seemed, when things like this happened, and now she could see why. The minutes seemed to crawl by, and she just wished Ron would hurry up and open his eyes. Harry had left her to talk to Ginny, and Hermione was alone with Ron in the hospital wing for the first time.

It was strange to think of Ron sitting here keeping vigilance while she was in the hospital wing in their second year. She smiled, thinking of him trying to act the part of a good friend by visiting her, but getting extremely bored by staring at her lifeless figure. The thought of him staring at her, even in such an innocent context, made her flush with embarrassment.

But who was she kidding? Hadn't this day taught her anything about her feelings?

When Harry had told her what happened, an immediate sense of dread had come over her. Ron…poisoned? By Slughorn's meade? She knew that man wasn't a saint, but to poison a student? And with that dread came a longing that was not entirely friendly. She loved Ron, and she had for a while. And she had been about to work up the courage to tell him when he had unceremoniously flung himself lip-first onto Lavender. She knew that Lavender had a crush on Ron for a while, but she thought it unlikely that Ron would ever reciprocate those feelings. Surely he wasn't that dim to want to date someone more interested in his relations with the famous Harry Potter than his charm, which, on occasion, Ron did possess…

But who could blame her actions? She knew Ron was dating Lavender to prove to Ginny (and partly himself) that he could kiss a girl. Oh yes, Ron had proven that several times and in several places around the common room. Even though she knew – hoped! – that Ron's feelings for Lavender were purely for mutual gain, it hurt to think that he might never see she, Hermione, in that light.

Of course, she could never come out and tell him. She was Hermione, dependable friend, homework-checker, brainy sidekick. He would never see her as more than that. And why should he? She wasn't pretty, they bickered like an old married couple, and now that he had kissed Lavender, Hermione wasn't the back up anymore. He would never be floundering for a date and think to call up Hermione. He knew he could date a prettier girl, especially being Harry Potter's best friend…

Oh, this is terribly depressing! she thought to herself. She sighed and looked at Ron. He didn't move much, but the bit that he did had mussed his red hair back and made his eyebrows take on a scowling expression. Or one of deep concentration, she laughed to herself. Something he was definitely not used to.

Even though Hermione was one of the most studious in her grade, if not the school, Ron's lack of enthusiasm refreshed her. He was her balance, the one who made her remember that life existed outside of books. If not for him, she would have kept her nose in her book her whole life and never come out of her shell. Secretly she enjoyed the fact that he relied on her for homework help. It was one of those things that remained constant. She knew that no matter the state of their relationship, Ron would always come back to her, if only for academic help.

And it didn't hurt that she had seen him grow from a gangly first year to a tall, handsome man. Well, maybe not man. Ron certainly did enough of his share of whining to be called a man, especially if a spider happened to be in the room. But he was certainly more grown-up, and had grown into his long limbs. And when he was on his form at Quidditch, he was really a sight. She was right to say that she liked her Quidditch players, even if she didn't quite understand the game.

Ron shifted on the hospital cot. Hermione wished he would wake up! She had so many things to say to him, the least of which was "I'm sorry." She had treated him like rubbish, and if his plan (although Ron hardly thought that far in advance…) had been to make her jealous (which she doubted…maybe….) it had certainly worked! If he knew the state she had been in after the first time Lavender had gushed in the dormitory about Ron, he would understand the predicament. And it wasn't as if Ron hadn't behaved childishly when she had "dated" Viktor Krum. It was because of events like these, and his reaction to taking McLaggen to Slughorn's Christmas party, that gave her some semblance of hope. If only she could be confident that he would figure it out himself…

How easy it would be if she could just tell him! If only boys knew how to read girls! Really read them! To know she was mad because she loved him, and had loved him, and doubted if there was anyone more perfectly made for her in the world.

But now she was becoming Lavender. She shuddered. She would have to contain herself – she knew Ron's type, and it wasn't that kind of girl. He just liked Lavender because she was an easy snog.

An icy hand gripped her heart. What if they were doing more than snogging?

But a reassuring thought came to her that Lavender would have said something. And she would have been hearing more of her word vomit if Ron had even said anything concerning love. She would have spouted that rubbish to Parvati so fast it would have been all over the castle within a day. So, she knew that they weren't there. At least not yet.

She knew this relationship wouldn't continue. Ron was already showing signs of boredom. And they'd never kept a row up forever. He would come back to her, if only in friendship, again.

Hermione took a look at the time. She had been sitting by his bed watching him for nearly two and a half hours. She didn't have time for this! She had homework and research for Harry to do. But she couldn't make herself leave. What if he woke up without her here? What if Lavender beat her to it, and Ron realized that he was in love with her?

Madame Pomfrey walked in and took a look at Ron. "He won't wake for another few hours. Why don't you go down to the great hall and get yourself something to eat? He'll be here when you get back, I promise," she said, hoping to finally remove the constant foot traffic around Ron's bedside.

Hermione sighed. Madame Pomfrey was right, and she was hungry. Standing, she threw a sad, longing glance at Ron. She hoped that eventually he would wake up from his sickness and realize how horrid Lavender was. She gathered her books and strode towards the door.

"Her…mi….nee…."

She froze. What the hell was that?

Turning, she saw Madame Pomfrey staring quizzically down at Ron. "I swear, there's nothing wrong with your knees!"

"What?" Hermione blanched, looking at Madame Pomfrey with an expression of incredulity on her face. Maybe she was becoming vain, but she could have sworn he had just moaned her name.

Madame Pomfrey shook her head. "I think he keeps saying, 'Hurt my knee,' but there's nothing wrong with his knees! I've checked three times!" She scowled, not enjoying the thought of a malady she couldn't fix. "Do you know if he had any knee injuries in the past?"

Hermione was still stunned with shock. Stuttering, she responded, "Uh, no, I don't believe so." A thought came to her. "Does he say that often?"

"Often enough," huffed Madame Pomfrey. "Must say it at least once every few hours…" And with that she turned and walked hurriedly to her office, mumbling.

Her hand still on the door, Hermione smiled. Maybe she wouldn't have to wait so long after all…

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Thanks for reading! Please leave a review.

~Tally