Author's Note – This is a ficlet I wrote for a writing contest on a Harry Potter forum many years ago. I found it as I was browsing through some old documents and decided to dust it off and post it here to see if anyone liked it. I don't really remember how I came up with this idea, but this song has always been hauntingly beautiful to me, so I decided to use it. Tell me what you think!
Hello by Evanescence
Playground school bell rings, again
Rain clouds come to play, again
Has no one told you she's not breathing?
Hello, I'm your mind giving you
Someone to talk to
Hello
If I smile and don't believe
Soon I know I'll wake from this dream
Don't try to fix me I'm not broken
Hello I'm the lie living for you so you can hide
Don't cry
Suddenly I know I'm not sleeping
Hello I'm still here
All that's left of yesterday
The Rain Hides Your Tears
I couldn't stop staring at her. I wanted to look away so badly; it ripped me up inside to see her so pale and weak, but I felt as if this was my last chance to remember her. My eyes scanned over her frail body, soaking up every inch of pale skin, every wrinkle and crevice in her face. Tentatively, I stroked my fingers through her wavy brown hair, the hair that I had inherited. From far off I heard the soft, ominous clang of a school bell outside of the hospital and I was suddenly filled with an aching longing for my mother.
"She's right here," said a voice in my head. I bit my lip and held back the tears that were burning at the corners of my eyes. She wasn't here. She never would be again.
I jumped slightly when my dad placed a hand on my shoulder; I had almost forgotten that he was here.
"Come on, Hermione," he said softly, his voice shaking slightly, "Let your mother get some rest." I ran my fingers once more through my mother's hair and then let my father steer me out of the hospital room. We took a seat in the waiting room by the window.
"Why'd this have to happen, Dad?" I asked softly as I gazed outside the rainy window, "Why'd Mum have to get cancer?" My Dad put a strong arm around my shoulder and put his chin on my head.
"I don't know, sweetheart," he said into my hair, "Sometimes things like this happen and we just have to make the best of it."
"Code blue room 105, code blue room 105," said a voice over the intercom suddenly. Dad and I glanced at each other, a mirrored look of fear and realization in our eyes. Room 105. Mum's room. I clenched my teeth and stared at the empty chair in front of me, fighting back the tears that were threatening to pour from my eyes. My dad's arm was still wrapped protectively around my shoulders, only now his hand was gripping me like I was his lifeline. With a sudden rush of affection towards him, I grabbed his other hand. He jumped slightly; he had been staring off into space as well, and looked down at me.
As though from far off I heard the sound of the doctors starting up the defibrillator.
"Clear!" I gripped my dad's hand tighter as we heard the sound of the electric shock. Taking a deep breath, I looked up at my father's face and suddenly everything seemed to be muted.
"Clear!" came the doctor's voice again, though I barely heard it. My complete attention was on my dad who, for the first time in my memory, was crying. Silent tears were streaming down his slightly wrinkled cheeks and his eyes were staring off into space with a deadened look. Vaguely, I registered that it had gotten strangely quiet. A blue-clad doctor came walking towards us, his face grim.
"Mr. and Miss Granger?" he said quietly. We both looked up at him. "I'm sorry, but your wife has passed away. You should know that it was virtually painless; she stopped breathing..." I tuned him out, not wanting to hear the details of how my mother had died. I suddenly felt trapped, like I was contained in my own body, not able to get out. I stared out the window without really seeing anything. All that I felt or registered at all was a numb disbelief. This wasn't me, it wasn't my body, it wasn't my mother lying dead in the room down the hall.
"Yes it was, Hermione," said a quiet voice in my head, "You're completely alone now. Your mother's dead, Hermione. She's dead. She's gone."
"No," I said out loud. I said the word so softly that I myself barely even heard it. Suddenly I had this insane urge to run.
"Um, dad, I need some fresh air. I'll be back in a minute," I said hurriedly to my father. And before he could even protest or say a word, I rushed out of the hospital and into the dark and rainy world outside. My clothes were almost immediately soaked the minute I stepped outside the double doors, but I only vaguely felt the bitter cold of the water clutching at my skin. I felt as though I was in a dream that I couldn't wake up from. My feet trudged ahead aimlessly and led me to the playground just outside the hospital. I sank into one of the rickety swings, letting the rain wash over me as though hoping it would wash away the numb sorrow clutching my heart.
"Hermione?"
I looked up and saw a tall boy about my age gazing at me under wet locks of fiery red hair. He kneeled down in front of me and placed his hand on my knee.
"Hermione, what are you doing out here?" Ron asked, concern in his voice.
"Mum's dead, Ron," I said flatly. His eyes widened slightly and then softened in sympathy.
"Oh, Hermione, I'm so sorry." He reached up to brush my sopping wet hair from my face, "Are you alright?" Seeing the immense concern in his eyes, I tried to smile reassuringly at him, but came up with more of a grimace.
"Yeah, I'm okay," I said bravely. He frowned slightly and I could tell that he didn't believe me. He stared at me for a moment, stroking my cheek like he used to always do back in our Hogwarts days. Back when all that mattered was schoolwork and our nights in the common room. Back when my life were so simple.
I suddenly realized that Ron's hand had slid down to grasp my own. He pulled me gently up from the swing and laid a hand on my shoulder.
"Come on, let's get you inside and warmed up. Don't want you to catch a cold."
At the mention of getting a cold I suddenly had a flashback of many childhood memories of my mum making me chicken-noodle soup and lemon tea. She always used to say that drinking lots of liquids and eating chicken-noodle soup was the cure for any sickness, though a little chocolate didn't hurt either. I then realized that she was wrong. Chicken-noodle soup wasn't the cure for anything; mum was dead and no amount of soup, tea, or chocolate was going to change that. And that's when it hit me, when it really hit me. Mum was dead. No more chicken-noodle soup when I was sick, no more kisses and hugs before bed, no more hot chocolate on late nights when Dad was out working, no more of her laugh, no more of her smile. I gasped; I couldn't help it. It was like an emotional semi-truck had hit me head on. My knees gave out and Ron caught me just before I hit the gravel.
"Hermione?" he said worriedly. He got a good look at my face and then wrapped me up in a hug, "Oh, Hermione." I sobbed into his shirt and clutched at his jacket. I wept and cried with all my heart until I felt dizzy with the aching sadness that was threatening to take over me. My tears continued to stream down my face, blending in with the still pouring rain. My mother was gone.
"Shhh, Hermione, it's okay," Ron cooed, his head resting on top of mine as he stroked my wet hair, "It's alright, I'm still here."
I don't know how long I knelt there in Ron's embrace. The whole concept of time had left me after the first "Clear!" had echoed out of room 105. But still, through the cold and the rain and the minutes creeping by, still Ron held me.
A/N: Please read and review!