Confessions
A/N: Sorry for the really, really, really, really late update. Busy with a newspaper, some dances, and some other stuff I have to do before I graduate. But finally I was able to get rid of this horrid writer's block. This oneshot is dedicated to a certain LadySchwarzDestiny or ShatteredBlueHeart, or as I like to call her, Princess! :D So I hope you enjoy this fanfiction, Princess. I apologize for the lack of RomCom.
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters in this story. J.K. Rowling does, so go thank her for the amazing character development. :)
Ron slouched in his chair by the fireplace as Harry continued to work on his homework. He and Harry dearly missed Hermione, though Ron barely showed it. Even if Ron had put on a false cheery face, he was still pale, and Harry had seemed to notice. Luckily, he hadn't asked.
Ron had to admit that Hermione's absence had brought his grades to an all-time low. Not only was she a great tutor, but without her there, Ron couldn't concentrate. His mind was trailing off to what the bigger problems were. What had Petrified Hermione? Why was his sister looking so sickly? And most importantly, was Harry really the Heir of Slytherin?
He knew that his best friend couldn't be a Dark wizard at all… but what if You-Know-Who was working through him, or occupying his body like he did with Quirrel? What if he was being possessed?
Ron had been staring into space for about twenty minutes until Harry shook him by the shoulders. "Ron, are you sure you're alright?"
"Yeah, yeah… I'm going to go to go… ask Flitwick something." Ron scurried away as Harry scratched his head, bewildered by Ron's behavior.
The tall boy ran his fingers through his ginger hair and made his way to the boy's toilets. The only reasons he'd gone to the toilets were to skive off class and actually use the bathroom… but never to hide his feelings. He just needed to get away from everything and pour it all out.
He gazed at himself in the grubby mirror. His eyes were baggy. His face was pale and sullen. All the color from his freckles had been drained out, and they could hardly be seen. He looked nearly as bad as Ginny, but Ginny seemed to have more sleepless nights.
Ron needed to get everything off his mind. He couldn't tell Harry, he would be made fun of for ages. He definitely wouldn't tell mum, and Ginny seemed to have too much on her mind anyway.
So that left one person…
He took quick steps towards the hospital wing. He didn't want to be caught. Sneaking around at the dead of night would be punishable, especially at the given circumstances.
Eventually, he reached the ward, where the victims lay silently, Madam Pomfrey nowhere to be found. Colin Creevey lay on his left, his arms bent at a right angle and his hands still holding the camera that was no longer there. Mrs. Norris was lying on her back with her arms outstretched as if she had died. Justin Finch-Fletchley looked as if he was sleeping with his eyes open. Penelope Clearwater lay with her arms close to her torso as if she were holding something.
Ron knelt down at the last bed, which was next to the window. The moonlight shone down onto her. Her look of fear was still etched upon her face. Ron gulped and put his arms onto an empty space on the bed. What if she was Petrified forever? What if she would never wake up? What if she was condemned to the hospital wing for life? What if Ron could never talk to her again?
"Hermione?"
No reply. Hermione stayed as still as ever. Ron had trouble trying to stop himself from trembling all over.
"I miss you, Hermione. We need you. Harry's starting to panic, and my sister's acting funny… Hermione?"
Still no reply. Ron buried his face into the thick duvet of the hospital bed. If she would only wake up…
"Hermione, life is so hard without you being here. Me and Harry… we miss you so much, Hermione, please come back. There's no fun without you, Hermione."
The room stayed silent. Ron waited for Hermione to answer, at least move her lips or blink. Maybe, just maybe, if he continued talking, she would show a sign of life...
"Hermione, I miss you so much."
Hermione didn't stir.
"Hermione, please, wake up…"
She didn't move.
"Please, Hermione, please…"
The room was still silent, a gentle breeze flowing through the open window. The curtains slowly glided on the air as Ron finally sobbed into the bed. The blanket was being drenched in tears.
"I love you, Hermione."
Ron waited, tears rolling down his cheeks, trickling over his freckles. Hermione's expression remained fearful and she didn't move. She lay there, her body indifferent.
He got up and walked away, disappointed and crestfallen. The light from the hall faded away as Ron shut the door behind him, and the hospital ward fell silent once more.
And a tear rolled down Hermione's cheek.