"Where're you going?" asked Ginny suspiciously, blocking the portrait hole's exit.
"Er – the library," lied Hermione.
"Oh," said Ginny, though she still looked suspicious. "Could you do me a favor, then? I borrowed The Properties of Moondew for Potions' and I was just going to return it – it's overdue, you see. While you're there, could you give back to Madam Pince and check out Rare Magical Fungi under my name? I need it for Herbology."
"Er – sure," said Hermione. "I'll do just that."
"Thanks," said Ginny, "you're a life-saver." She stood aside from the portrait hole's exit, so Hermione could pass through. As Hermione exited and ran down the staircase, she could feel Ginny's eyes still following her. The truth was that Hermione wasn't at all going to the library. In fact, she was on her way to the Hospital Wing.
It was March 2nd, 1997; the day after Ron's birthday. Unexpectedly, Ron had had drunken three potions the following day – love potion, an antidote, and finally, poisoned mead. He was now in the Hospital Wing, and Hermione was unsure if he was conscious or not, but she was expecting him to be awake. As she walked down the hallway, Hermione prayed that nobody else would be in the Hospital Wing, but more importantly, she prayed that Lavender Brown wasn't there.
It had been a long night yesterday, it had. Ginny was with Hermione, doing a Transfiguration essay when Colin Creevey burst into the common room telling everybody that Ron had collapsed and was now being carried to the Hospital Wing. Ginny put down her quill, but Hermione was faster, and she ran towards the portrait hole so fast she almost crashed through it.
When Hermione had finally reached the Hospital Wing corridor, she shook nervously at the door knob. She wasn't sure if Ron was awake, or if Ron even wanted to see her if he was, as the last word she had ever said to him before that incident was "Oppungo."
Finally, Hermione twisted the door knobs handle and quietly entered the Wing. From her view, all the beds were empty, but one in the middle stood wrapped around by a white curtain.
"Who's there?" Madam Pompfrey picked up her wand and rushed to the entrance. "Oh – it's you, Miss Granger," she said, relieved. "What, may I ask, are you doing here?"
"I – I just wanted to come and see Ron," she replied quietly.
Madam Pompfrey nodded grimly. "Mr. Weasley is expected to wake up this afternoon. I've searched all my healing supplies and the closest one I have come to is this one" – she took out a small bottle of fizzing purple liquid – "but you are still welcome to see him." She pocketed the potion and her wand and drew the curtains of Bed No. 7. With that, she returned to her desk, scratching her quill upon a small piece of parchment.
Hermione looked down at Ron. He seemed peaceful – very peaceful. His flaring red hair was plastered to his face and his hands were on either side of the bed. Hermione grabbed the stool nearest and sat on his left side. She stared down at him, wanting to hug him, or even more, kiss him apologetically for sending those birds upon him. She quietly pulled the sleeve of his plain white t-shirt up; she saw several scratches were the birds had attacked him still visible.
She drew the curtains around her so that nobody could see them; then, without thinking, she placed her left hand on top of his and her right hand beneath it. She stared at him, realizing a small smile upon her face. She could feel her heart beating out of her chest and her cheeks burning scarlet. He looked handsome. To get a clearer view, Hermione gently pushed his hair off his face and saw several more scratches on his cheeks, though they were very tiny. His hands, too, had scratches; most of them were pinkish, though some remained scarlet.
She felt like sweeping down upon him and kissing him. Then, quietly, she saw his eyelashes flutter.
"Ron?"
His head twitched silently and she felt his hand move under hers. Then, unexpectedly, his eyes slowly opened.
"Ron! Ron! MADAM PINCE!"
Ron looked up at her. "Hermione?"
"Shhh, shhh," she cooed. "Madam Pompfrey's coming, oh than goodness, Ron, I – "
"Mr. Weasley!" said Madam Pompfrey, drawing the curtains back. "Good to be back! You must – here," she said thrusting the purple fizzy potion into his hands. "Take this. Hopefully, it will help you relive what happened yesterday." She returned to her desk, nodding approvingly.
Ron turned back to Hermione. "Er – what happened to me?"
"Wha – don't you remember?" asked Hermione, surprised. "Don't you remember any of this at all?"
"No," Ron admitted. "I just – just drank something, and then…poof. I'm here."
"You were poisoned," spat Hermione darkly. "By the mead you drank. Dumbeldore's furious, though neither of us know who put that in your drink –"
"Where's Lavender?" asked Ron suddenly.
Hermione's cheeks flared dark scarlet. "Look," she said, "if you don't want me here, I'll just –" she picked up her jacket and stood up from the stool, but Ron stopped her, gripping her hand.
"No," said Ron. "Stay. I'm sorry, I'm just surprised she's not here, you know – she won't get off my back."
"All right," chuckled Hermione, sitting back down. "She won't get off mine either."
"Does she even know?"
"No," admitted Hermione. "Although, I did over hear her fretting over you and Romilda Vane."
"What?" asked Ron, taken aback. "I'm here on my deathbed, and she's telling everyone I ditched her for Vane?"
"Shut up," said Hermione fiercely. "You're not on your deathbed, she doesn't know and I would do the exact same thing if I were her."
"…You would?" asked Ron sheepishly.
"Yes," replied Hermione, blushing furiously.
"Ah, well," said Ron, shrugging. He hesitated, then said, "So, had fun at the Christmas party I suppose?"
Hermione was startled at the change of subject. "Er – not really," she admitted dispassionately. "McLaggen couldn't have been mistaken for a concussed troll. He's a total idiot."
Ron suddenly beamed. "Really?"
"Well, yes," said Hermione, beaming back. She turned over her shoulder. Madam Pompfrey was looking at her meaningfully, tapping on her watch. "I'd better go now."
"Why?" asked Ron.
"Don't worry," laughed Hermione, "I'll be back tomorrow as soon as I can. Madam Pompfrey says you need some rest."
"Rest? I've been resting for half a day!"
"Apparently, that's not enough," sighed Hermione. "And besides, I've got a Runes essay due in three more days, and it's supposed to be at least fifteen inches. And think – what would Lavender say if she saw me visiting you? Wouldn't want more trouble."
"Right," said Ron reasonably. "Well played. Well, I'll see you tomorrow, then."
"Right," replied Hermione, "We've also got some Potions' homework!" she added over her shoulder as she closed the door behind her. Right before it slammed shut, she heard Ron groan uncomfortably; she smirked silently.
When she arrived in the common room, Ginny was only there, pieces of parchment scattered around her, some burning into the crackling fire. "Halite turns Moondew reddish-brown, right?" she asked, not taking her eyes off her quill. "And Bowtruckle tree leaves make Unicorn Hair dissolve?"
"No," replied Hermione, rubbing her eyes wearily. "Calcite turns Moondew reddish-brown. And Bowtruckle tree leaves make Unicorn Hair grow larger."
"I knew that," gushed Ginny, crumpling the paper and throwing it into the fire. "Have you got my book?"
Hermione stopped dead in her tracks. "Er – well – you see, I – "
"You didn't go to the library!" said Ginny, clapping her hands triumphantly. "I know…you went to visit Ron, in the Wing!"
"Wha – no," lied Hermione.
"You're not that good of an actress," said Ginny, shaking her head. "Don't worry, as long as Lav – "
At that precise moment, Lavender entered the common room, arm in arm with Parvati. Hermione threw Ginny a silencing look; Ginny returned the look back.
"Hi, Parvati," panted Hermione. "Lavender."
Lavender looked down at the two of them as if they were scum. "Ginny," she said, her voice unusually cracked. "Hermione."
Hermione noticed a hint of loathing in her voice as she said her name. She beamed at Lavender who looked away and ran up the common room stairs, Parvati following her.
"Bitch," said Ginny, not long after.
"Ginny!"
"Well, she is!"
"Yes, I know, but you can't just – "
Ginny threw her a look of disdain.
"On second thought," said Hermione, "yeah. Bitch."
The two of them laughed hysterically, and then resumed their essays, Hermione partially doodling hearts with her quill on the edges of her parchment.