3.
Hermione Granger

"You know," George says thoughtfully, "I think I can hear a little bit now." He claps a hand over his one ear and looks at me. "Say something."

"Something."

He shrugs. "Maybe. Good thing I still have my other ear," he adds, a bit too cheerfully.

Percy frowns. "You sound very happy about the fact you only have one ear."

"Yeah," George says, but his voice suddenly sounds colder. "Yeah, I am. You never know. My ear's up there with him. Might be like some kind of heavenly Extendable Ear. That'd be right wicked, it would be."

Percy blinks. Ron winces. Bill turns around from where he had been looking at a poster of a skeleton with a troubled look on his face. Ginny buries her face in her hands, and Harry puts one arm around her before glaring at George. Charlie gives a wan, thin smile.

"It's not funny," Percy says sharply.

"Oh," George says in a bored voice, "I don't know. I thought it was pretty good."

"Well, it wasn't," says Bill quietly. "Mind you, don't say that around Mum and Dad."

He meets his eyes defiantly before exhaling loudly. "Fine. Have it your way. Just trying to lighten the mood."

"You were better at it before," Ron says defeatedly.

"Shut up," George says angrily. "Just shut up."

"Why don't you both?" I retort, annoyed.

"It's different for all you," George snaps, raising his voice. "You don't even understand and you never will!"

Ginny sniffles. "Dammit," George says, throwing his hands up in the air. "Dammit. I didn't mean to make you cry." No one says anything, and he scowls. "Where's Mum and Dad?"

"Talking to some Healers," Charlie says quietly.

"When the hell am I getting out of here?" he says bluntly.

"Whenever you want," Percy snaps.

He stands up. "Good. I'll go now." He slams the door behind him as he goes. I flinch. Ginny cries softly.

"That elevated quickly," I say after a long pause.

Bill sighs. "Honestly, it did."

Once, a few days after Fred died, Percy and George drank too much when everyone had still been staying in Hogsmeade. They were intoxicated. Plastered. Wasted. Drunk. Depressed. Angry. It had taken Mr. Weasley, Bill, and Charlie's combined efforts to get them to stop killing each other. I don't remember much, because I'd been half-asleep and nursing a hangover at the time. But snatches of it come back. Ginny crying before leaving. Windows breaking in the inn we were staying at. Percy bleeding heavily from the broken nose he was sporting.

I blink the memory away. Was it worth it for their family to fall apart?

Charlie sighs and wipes his forehead. "This is ridiculous," he says, sounding uncharacteristically bitter. Of all the Weasley siblings, I know him the least, but even I know he is usually not so angry. "Fred wouldn't do this."

"Fred loved to fight," Ron says softly. "Maybe even more than George."

Charlie shrugs helplessly. "I don't know anymore." Everything's silent for a few minutes, and I concentrate on listening to the clock tick unceasingly in the corner. Finally Mr. Weasley comes in, his face ashen. "We're going to take George home now," he says. "We're rescheduling the next operation."

"How many bloody operations is he going to have?" Ron asks. His voice is hoarse.

"If this last one doesn't improve his hearing in the slightest, none," Mr. Weasley answers. "Molly and I are going now, if you all want to come now."

Everyone stands but me, and I stay on the corner of the bed. Only Ron looks back as he is halfway through the doorway. "You coming, Hermione?" he asks awkwardly.

"No," I say hastily. "I've got things to do. There's a major S.P.E.W. breach here in St. Mungo's, poor treatment from what I've heard, so I'm investigating." What a load of rubbish.

Ron blinks and nods before turning, leaving me wondering exactly why I lied to him. After a few minutes of waiting around, I stand and head to the Memory Ward. I'm not sure exactly why. I'm angry, and the best time and place to get angry is around someone who deserves to be hated. I climb the stairs and step into the ward.

The female Healer who'd first urged me to stay and visit Malfoy greets me. I nod in reply, then say, "Is that him, over there?" I point to the curtained-off area.

"Yes. He's very antisocial. Doesn't like the other patients much."

"How long till he gets released?"

"A week, maybe," the witch says, wrinkling her nose. "Merlin knows we'd all be happier with him gone. No offense."

"None taken," I say, smiling faintly, before crossing the room. I pull the curtain up and sit down in the chair.

"Granger," he says.

"Malfoy."

"Why do you keep coming around?"

"Why do you keep asking for me?"

He blinks. "Fair point." His gaze looks over my shoulder to a point perhaps in an alternate plane. "I'm sorry."

"You told me that last time, but you were delirious then." I stare at the scars on his neck. "Why do you want to talk to me so bad?"

"Because it's my fault that my aunt tried to kill you." He blinks and focuses on me again.

"Why should I believe that you're sorry?" I reply softly. "Last time I checked, you thought I was a filthy Mudblood and you were going to annihilate my species."

"I'm not my father anymore, Granger," he says, closing his eyes. "You've no idea how often in the past year I wished I were dead."

"You had a choice," I say, my voice cold. "We all have a choice. We can all decide if we want to be remembered for our failures and successes, and you made the wrong decision."

"Yeah. Yeah, I did." He sighs. "I wanted to die. I wanted people to quit remembering me." He rubs his neck. "Everyone here either hates me or is afraid of me, or both."

"You have to live with the consequences of your choices, Malfoy," I say disgustedly.

"I don't want to have to carry this alone."

"Well," I snap, "I'm sure your mother would be plenty happy to help you. Don't go to someone you owe and go even more in their debt."

"Good advice, Granger."

"Do you not understand that I hate you?" I snarl, standing.

He opens his eyes and looks up at me, and what he says chills me to the bone. "Yeah, I know. But this time you came."