Chapter 3: Because Life Was Just Too Quiet for Harry Potter
There was a beat of complete silence. No one moved, no one breathed. Not even the garden gnomes sneaking in the open window dared make a sound. It was a heartbeat of complete stillness before Harry's chair clattered to the floor and all hell broke loose.
Harry jumped to his feet and ran with impossible speed to where Ginny lay crumpled and unmoving on the ground.
George and Percy leapt across the table at Ron, slamming him to the floor. Mashed potatoes and peas went flying.
Bill and Fleur rushed to Harry's side.
Mr and Mrs Weasley stood stock still; too shocked to react in any way.
"Ginny, Ginny!" Harry cried desperately, lifting her with trembling hands from the ground. He never noticed or simply did not care that the shattered glass and splintered wood from the large clock that had been hanging on the wall was now cutting into his legs as he kneeled beside her. Fleur gasped at the small trail of blood that smeared across the floor when Harry had moved her. Ginny had hit the wall with such force that there was a small crater where she had impacted before falling to the ground. An arch of wood dangled precariously from the wall just above the tiny crater.
Ginny had hit Mrs Weasley's infamous clock and smashed the face of it with the back of her head. It now lay in pieces around her. Glass soaked with red sparkled brightly on the floor; a few legs of the small cabinet-table it had been hanging over rolled away. Even the hands of the clock that represented each Weasley had skidded in different directions across the kitchen floor and were still spinning wildly.
Fleur laid delicate hands on Ginny's face and frowned deeply at the blood that had started to mat her hair.
"Do not move 'er," she said firmly.
"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!" Percy roared looking from the mess opposite them and back to Ron's shocked face.
"I- I don't know! It was an acci-!" Ron was cut off when George heaved him up by his shirt front and slammed him back down.
"Don't you dare say it was an accident!" he growled lowly.
At this Mr and Mrs Weasley snapped to attention simultaneously. Looking to each other a silent communication passed between them and they nodded. Mrs Weasley hurried over to Ginny while Mr Weasley turned to his sons, eyes hard. He flicked his wand and George and Percy were pushed off and away from Ron by an invisible force. Striding through the gap between them Mr Weasley reached down and hauled Ron up roughly. He shot a warning glance to his older sons who were still struggling against the shield. They stopped immediately, shrinking at the look in their father's eyes.
"Dad I-" Ron's voice faded when Mr Weasley turned his gaze on him. Ron cowered for he had never seen such intense fury in his father's eyes. It was more terrifying than Mrs Weasley in the peak of her rage. Mr Weasley started dragging Ron from the room by his collar when he heard Fleur's throaty voice.
"Eet eez not good Molly," Fleur said. Her beautiful face was void of emotion and her hands examined Ginny with sure movements. "Some of ze wood 'as cut 'er too deep in places and splintered. I do not feel comfortable removing eet 'ere. Zere may be some glass in 'er 'ead wound but I am not sure. I do not like ze feel of 'er back -eet eez too rigid. Ze 'ealers at St Mungos 'ave more complex spells zan I. 'ow we will move 'er without 'urting 'er I do not know, ze wards on ze 'ouse allow for no Apparation: eet eez to dangerous anyway. Floo is more dangerous I theenk. We will 'ave to call a 'ealer but it will take time and she is losing a lot of blood – I cannot close ze wounds weeth so much debris inside and I cannot get eet all weeth what spells I do 'ave. 'er back will only worsen ze longer eet eez left." Her voice rang out loud and hard and damning all the same. She spoke at such a furious speed it was any wonder how her English didn't breakdown.
Mr Weasley stopped dead and turned to look at his daughter. Ron gasped. "No! I-I'm so sorry! It was an accident! She just got me so angry - humiliating me like that-"
For the third time that night Ron's words were cut off as Harry let out a growl of frustration. He was gazing at Ginny's small frame in his lap, listening to her quiet, shallow breaths more than Fleur's words when he heard Ron's exclamation. Pure and un-adulterated rage thundered through his veins, there were no words, no words for his anger. Rage and fear tore at him and all he could do was let it rip up and out of him when he heard what Ron was saying.
Harry was gazing intently at Ginny's face when something caught his eye. The slender clock hand with Ginny's name engraved in it was lying by her side. It had stopped spinning suddenly and now snapped straight ahead: Harry followed its direction and saw a chunk of the clock's backboard not a foot away. He read the words "Mortal Peril" and his heart stopped.
Its lying, it's broken. It's just a piece of wood, Harry thought to himself. He shook his head back and forth, eyes screwed shut. It's broken. Bill's calling the healers, it's fine, its fine. She'll be safe. She'll be fine.
The small clock hand didn't move a millimetre, even as Bill's patronus burst from his wand blowing a firm gust of wind around them. Something swelled up inside Harry and he gripped Ginny closing his eyes tightly, desperately willing her to be safe.
The kitchen of The Burrow lit up in a blinding flash of yellow, brighter even than the patronus. The light forced itself into every crevice, every nook and every cranny. It burned impossibly brighter for a split second before suddenly disappearing.
Mrs Weasley blinked furiously, her eyes were unfocused and a bright light lingered in her sight, even once the flash had disappeared. Shaking her head she looked down trying to clear her vision and gasped.
The space in front of her was empty. Ginny and Harry had disappeared.
Hermione and Luna sat in front of the fireplace marinating in its warmth. Luna's eyelids drooped precariously lower at the television while Hermione barely managed to turn the page of her book before her hand dropped back down to her side limply. Fatigue had set deep in their bones; both girls looked dangerously close to sleep. Hermione looked to the clock sitting on a shelf reading 10:14 p.m.
From the portrait Sirius raised an eyebrow at her sardonically.
"Oh, be quiet," she grumbled, her voice barely a whisper above the quiet television and the even quieter cackle of the fire. Her head dropped further and further down and she knew that if Sirius were here he'd be giving them hell. Here she was a young witch – a Gryffindor no less, unsupervised with no responsibilities, falling asleep and it wasn't even 11! A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth and she felt herself falling out of consciousness, eyes drifting closed slowly.
In the slit of Hermione's eyelids she saw a small ball of light burning incandescently; growing brighter by the second. Her eyebrows puckered slightly, too tired to form a full blown frown. Thinking that exhaustion was making her crazy Hermione let her eyes seal shut. The light however, did not go away even with her eyelids shut. It seemed to burn brighter. Relenting she lifted one eyelid infinitesimally and then both eyes flew wide open.
The light was starting to take shape. The distorted silhouette of a person was forming in the light; in fact the glow seemed to be emanating from the figure. Slowly the light retracted until all that was left was an incandescent figure.
By this time both Hermione and Luna had leapt to their feet, wands raised, their rigid defensive stances betraying nothing of their earlier fatigue. When the light gained more substance they each raised their shields though Hermione doubted whether that would make much difference now. She didn't know how this figure had manifested itself; nothing she knew of could breach the powerful wards that protected their house. They hadn't enacted the Fidelous Charm but their wards allowed for no Apparation; no floo even. No magical being of any kind should have been able to get past the protective enchantments without either witch guiding them in. Hermione gripped her wand tighter, unease settling in the pit of her stomach.
The light retreated further into the figure's centre and slowly the distinct outline of a man kneeling and clutching a bundle of fabric emerged.
Hermione gasped as she took in the man's messy hair and round glasses askew; tears squeezing out between his screwed up eyes.
"Harry?" Luna whispered. Her huge grey eyes were wide, the soft glow of the fireplace reflected in their shiny depths.
"That looks like a very dramatic way to travel Harry. Does it hurt, is that why you're crying?" She said moving to kneel beside him. She bought her hand up to rub his back when Hermione made a strange sound in her throat.
"Ginny!" Hermione cried.
Harry shook his head. He felt someone else, probably Bill, kneel beside him. He thought he'd heard Luna's voice but it was more than likely Mrs Weasley sobbing something. He didn't care. All he cared about was Ginny. Ginny who lay crumpled and broken in his arms. Ginny who had survived Voldemort for Christ sake, had been bought down by Ron of all people.
Her own brother.
Ginny the bravest, fiercest Witch he knew was lying here, hurting and there was nothing he could do but wait. Wait for some Healer to come when they were good and bloody well ready. Wait for some stranger to come and fix her because he couldn't, didn't know how to. He had never felt so helpless in his life.
Where was Hermione when you needed her?
Ron.
Ron had driven Hermione away.
Ron had broken Ginny.
It was all Ron's fault. He had taken the one person who would know exactly what to do, away. The one person Harry trusted the most to look after the one person he loved most. Ron had done this to Ginny – worse Ron was still doing this to Ginny.
Ginny.
"Ginny!"
Harry's eyes snapped open.
Hermione?
"Hermione!" In an instant she was kneeling in front of him. He didn't care how she was here, only that she was.
"Hermione - she - I – Ron – her –" Harry babbled. Hope, a desperate, blaring hope rose in his chest. Hermione was here - Hermione knew what to do.
"Oh Harry!" Hermione gasped as she looked from his desperate face to Ginny. Her face was a pale grey; vivid red hair matted with blood. Her robes were torn and bloody in places. Was that glass sticking to her robes? Bloody hell – was that wood embedded in her skin? Hermione's brained raced at a million miles an hour.
"Her hair's sparkling." Hermione heard Luna say in mild awe.
"Glass," she concluded, moving next to Harry. She moved her hands constantly, wand waving in intricate loops and swirls as she cast diagnostic spell after spell.
"Yes! Glass!" Harry gasped finally getting his thoughts in order. "Ron hit her with some spell and she slammed into the wall, smashing Mrs Weasley's clock and the end table under," he explained quickly. He didn't know how she understood him in his rush but evidently she did because she nodded swiftly, wand flashing in the air again and again.
"I can't do much Harry."
"No!" Harry gasped. It was Hermione! She knew everything!
"I've cast a few diagnostic spells but the glass fragments and wood chips are so tiny and deep any spell I use could take them out but damage her more on the way and anyway, taking them out could cause a bleed I don't think I could stop in time. I could nick an artery. A couple of vertebra in her spine feel like they're out of place or shattered – which is worse. The tendons there are straining. If you move out from under her – "
Harry began to move.
"-Gently, gently!" Hermione hissed. "Keep her head still, try to keep it at the same angle it was on your lap." Harry moved slowly, his hands cupping Ginny's upper back.
"I'm going to cast an immobilising charm now Harry, so stay still," Hermione chided as she waved her wand. "There. Now we'll do no more damage to her back." Hermione saw Luna twirl her wand and something flew across the room and into her hand. She uncorked the small vial and tipped its murky red contents into Ginny's mouth. Instantly her face lightened a shade and her wounds began to bleed afresh.
"Blood replenishing potion." Hermione nodded in approval.
"But that's all we have. Her wounds aren't magical; perhaps we ought to take her to the Muggle healers?" Luna suggested lightly. She reached out and stroked Ginny's cheek delicately. "She really is quite beautiful."
Hermione smacked her palm to her forehead. "Of course! Luna – you're brilliant. I don't trust myself to be steady enough to clear her wounds properly with magic, Harry. She needs steady hands and a surgeon can operate, remove the debris manually. Get it out clearly and cleanly without causing damage and they can stop the bleeds. More importantly they can fix her back. Honestly, I think they'd do a better job than the healers at St Mungos," Hermione gushed as she levitated Ginny up from the floor and through the house carefully. Harry nodded.
"I trust you."
She wanted so desperately to run through the house; to jump in the car and speed to the hospital. Although it was not even a couple minutes since Harry's arrival the amount of time they'd spent talking had meant Ginny was deteriorating.
Luna had run out to the car before Hermione had even reached the front door. She had the door open and the back seat down when Hermione and Harry finally reached the van. No one cared that rain was still pouring heavily and they were soaked through in seconds.
"Hop in, Harry," Luna said guiding Harry up and into the back. He was too absorbed in Ginny's face, looking for the slightest change, to notice what he was doing or where he was going. "What happened to your legs Harry?" She asked looking down to his blood soaked pants.
Luna couldn't drive properly yet and Harry was in no state to do anything so Hermione relinquished her wand to Luna so she could keep Ginny hovering over the backseat while Hermione bolted to the driver's side.
Yanking the door open and remembering herself just enough to not slam the pedal down, Hermione reversed out the driveway at an excruciating slow pace. Well, it felt slow. Really she was speeding out the drive and away down the street in seconds.
She turned down the main street and the old van whined in protest as Hermione sped up slightly. "It's somewhere in town here, I remember seeing - HA!" she exclaimed spotting the giant red cross plastered on a building. It really was lucky that Forks was so small or she'd never had found the hospital so quickly.
Well, "hospital" was a bit of a stretch really.
The building wasn't large by any means, though it looked modern enough to be adequately equipped with a theatre room. Hermione's heart lifted when she saw not one but two ambulances parked in the bay. It was a strange thing to be excited over but it meant that this place was equipped enough for serious injuries.
She ran to the back to tell Luna to lower and release Ginny. How would they explain an immobilized levitating girl to Muggles? She reached them just in time to see Luna lowering Ginny down into Harry's arms and heard the softly whispered "finite". Hermione felt herself smile.
Cleverest witch of my age, my arse, she thought sprinting trough the doors of the hospital.
Penny Blake sat at the nurses' station in the foyer come waiting room come reception area come break-room, of Forks General Hospital when a determined young woman came bursting through the front doors. She stood to attention as the girl crashed into the high desk of the nurses station.
"My friend she's had an accident. Smashed into a –" she stopped, her breath hitching a moment, then nodded to herself. " –a cabinet, after falling over the rail from upstairs. She's got a head wound and glass protruding all over her body. She's hurt her spine too. In the van out front – help, please," she gasped.
Turning away from the girl she looked at the only other intern in the hospital and the nurse sitting at the computers behind her. They'd already leapt to their feet though, grabbing a gurney and neck brace, racing after the girl who had disappeared out the front door. Nothing serious ever happened around here and they looked eager for action.
Probably begging for it, Penny thought picking up the phone and looking to Nurse Lindow, sitting in the waiting area, helping a patient out with a form.
"Is Fornell still in?" She called.
"Surgery. Delayed Mrs Burton's eppy so she could see her grandson's play this evening," Lindow replied, not looking up.
Penny sighed in frustration. "I've only just got in, who's the Doc on call?"
"Dr Cullen."
Penny snorted as she dialled his number. She knew it off by heart. He was always on call.