My Withering Rose
I gazed down at her limp, feeble body. I kept wondering, "How could she do this too herself?" Her arms were thin and bony, and her skin felt papery and dry. Her stomach was all hollowed out and her breathing was heavy. She was withering away. My poor Hermione.
I sat next to her bedside everyday, holding her hand and only left to eat, get some rest and go to lessons, but I didn't always attend them anyway. I spent what felt like my whole life in the Hospital Wing. My poor Hermione had a serious problem, which was not only affecting her, but everybody around her aswell. My poor Hermione was slowly killing herself. My poor Hermione had anorexia. How could poor Hermione be so stupid? Especially as she was the cleverest person in our year. And why did she starve herself? Why indeed? The reason is so silly and it angers me everyday. The reason haunts me, everywhere I go, it's there, crowding my brain, always there, always hurting, always causing problems, always on my mind. And that reason is Krum. Viktor Krum. No good Vicky. Bulgarian Seeker. He left Hermione for the new Bulgarian Chaser, Sabine Molvich. Stick thin, enchantingly beautiful. Everything a male these days would long for. And poor Hermione realised that she was not good enough for Vicky. Stupid, horrid Viktor Krum. I burnt his autograph when I found out. And Hermione took one look at stick thin, photogenic Sabine in Harry's book of Quidditch teams and felt she needed to be that thin aswell. I privately thought she was fine, beautiful the way she was. Of course, I did not tell her that I thought she was beautiful. But perhaps I should. Perhaps that would put a stop to things. I love her and I have done so for a long, long time.
As her eyes flickered open I drew closer to her.
" How are you feeling Mione? " I asked her.
" Fine Ron, is Harry with you? " She said slowly and shakily.
" No he isn't. Hermione, you know you are not fine, why are you doing this to yourself? You are getting dangerously thin!" I told her.
" No I'm not Ron! Look at me I'm like a whale! I need to lose loads more wait yet!"
" Please don't do this, can't you see what's happening, you're, you're." I stuttered.
" What?" she asked puzzled.
" Hermione you are dying please eat!" I begged her.
" No!" she said firmly. " I had an orange for breakfast as it is, I don't want to put on anymore weight today."
" Can't you see that you're thinner than that retched Sabine!"
" Am I?" she looked quite pleased with herself. "But I still need to be a bit thinner ideally. Now Ron, I'm rather sleepy, I'm going to have some more rest."
I left the Hospital Wing, rather disgruntled, and made my way up to the common room to see Harry.
As weeks went by, Hermione got thinner and much weaker. She could hardly speak and it was unbelievable that she was lasting so long, judging by the amount of food she was eating.
" Potter, Weasley, you are to go up to the Hospital Wing one last time." Said Prof. McGonagall. She looked like she was on the verge of tears.
" Last time? What do you mean Professor? " Asked Harry.
" Miss Granger is being transferred to St. Mungo's tomorrow morning. She is mentally and physically ill, poor thing."
And with that, she swept past us before we had the chance to say anything or ask any questions. We immediately took off to the Hospital Wing as fast as our legs could carry us.
We entered the Wing to find Mr and Mrs Granger at Hermione's bedside. Hermione was as white as a sheet and her parents looked extremely concerned.
" Hello, you are Hermione's friends if I am not much mistaken?" said Mrs Granger in a kindly tone, but trying to stifle her tears at the same time.
" Well, we shall leave you two to try and talk to our Mione." Said Mr Granger. He took Mrs Granger by the arm and led her out of the room. We tried talking to Hermione for adleast half and hour, but she didn't respond to anything we said or did.
" Harry?" I said finally.
" Yes?"
" Could you leave us alone for a bit, you know what I mean?"
" Oh, yes of course" said Harry catching on.
He left. I took Hermione's delicate hand and gave it a little squeeze, careful not to break her fingers. I took a deep breath and said:
" Hermione, ever since the third year I have realised that there was something special between us. I do hope you can hear this. Well, I guess what I'm trying to say is, oh Hermione please don't do this, I think you are beautiful the way you are, and I really do love you so."
I felt her gently press against my hand and a weak smile formed from her lips. I turned to leave.
" I love you too Ron" came a small, weak sound from Hermione. I turned around. She had fallen asleep again. Harry, Mr and Mrs Granger and I, stayed by Hermione's bedside throughout the night.
But by morning, she had died.
I gazed down at her limp, feeble body. I kept wondering, "How could she do this too herself?" Her arms were thin and bony, and her skin felt papery and dry. Her stomach was all hollowed out and her breathing was heavy. She was withering away. My poor Hermione.
I sat next to her bedside everyday, holding her hand and only left to eat, get some rest and go to lessons, but I didn't always attend them anyway. I spent what felt like my whole life in the Hospital Wing. My poor Hermione had a serious problem, which was not only affecting her, but everybody around her aswell. My poor Hermione was slowly killing herself. My poor Hermione had anorexia. How could poor Hermione be so stupid? Especially as she was the cleverest person in our year. And why did she starve herself? Why indeed? The reason is so silly and it angers me everyday. The reason haunts me, everywhere I go, it's there, crowding my brain, always there, always hurting, always causing problems, always on my mind. And that reason is Krum. Viktor Krum. No good Vicky. Bulgarian Seeker. He left Hermione for the new Bulgarian Chaser, Sabine Molvich. Stick thin, enchantingly beautiful. Everything a male these days would long for. And poor Hermione realised that she was not good enough for Vicky. Stupid, horrid Viktor Krum. I burnt his autograph when I found out. And Hermione took one look at stick thin, photogenic Sabine in Harry's book of Quidditch teams and felt she needed to be that thin aswell. I privately thought she was fine, beautiful the way she was. Of course, I did not tell her that I thought she was beautiful. But perhaps I should. Perhaps that would put a stop to things. I love her and I have done so for a long, long time.
As her eyes flickered open I drew closer to her.
" How are you feeling Mione? " I asked her.
" Fine Ron, is Harry with you? " She said slowly and shakily.
" No he isn't. Hermione, you know you are not fine, why are you doing this to yourself? You are getting dangerously thin!" I told her.
" No I'm not Ron! Look at me I'm like a whale! I need to lose loads more wait yet!"
" Please don't do this, can't you see what's happening, you're, you're." I stuttered.
" What?" she asked puzzled.
" Hermione you are dying please eat!" I begged her.
" No!" she said firmly. " I had an orange for breakfast as it is, I don't want to put on anymore weight today."
" Can't you see that you're thinner than that retched Sabine!"
" Am I?" she looked quite pleased with herself. "But I still need to be a bit thinner ideally. Now Ron, I'm rather sleepy, I'm going to have some more rest."
I left the Hospital Wing, rather disgruntled, and made my way up to the common room to see Harry.
As weeks went by, Hermione got thinner and much weaker. She could hardly speak and it was unbelievable that she was lasting so long, judging by the amount of food she was eating.
" Potter, Weasley, you are to go up to the Hospital Wing one last time." Said Prof. McGonagall. She looked like she was on the verge of tears.
" Last time? What do you mean Professor? " Asked Harry.
" Miss Granger is being transferred to St. Mungo's tomorrow morning. She is mentally and physically ill, poor thing."
And with that, she swept past us before we had the chance to say anything or ask any questions. We immediately took off to the Hospital Wing as fast as our legs could carry us.
We entered the Wing to find Mr and Mrs Granger at Hermione's bedside. Hermione was as white as a sheet and her parents looked extremely concerned.
" Hello, you are Hermione's friends if I am not much mistaken?" said Mrs Granger in a kindly tone, but trying to stifle her tears at the same time.
" Well, we shall leave you two to try and talk to our Mione." Said Mr Granger. He took Mrs Granger by the arm and led her out of the room. We tried talking to Hermione for adleast half and hour, but she didn't respond to anything we said or did.
" Harry?" I said finally.
" Yes?"
" Could you leave us alone for a bit, you know what I mean?"
" Oh, yes of course" said Harry catching on.
He left. I took Hermione's delicate hand and gave it a little squeeze, careful not to break her fingers. I took a deep breath and said:
" Hermione, ever since the third year I have realised that there was something special between us. I do hope you can hear this. Well, I guess what I'm trying to say is, oh Hermione please don't do this, I think you are beautiful the way you are, and I really do love you so."
I felt her gently press against my hand and a weak smile formed from her lips. I turned to leave.
" I love you too Ron" came a small, weak sound from Hermione. I turned around. She had fallen asleep again. Harry, Mr and Mrs Granger and I, stayed by Hermione's bedside throughout the night.
But by morning, she had died.