Summary: Hermione and Fred are separated by war, their relationship and recent engagement completely hidden from everyone. Terrified for each others safety both still have to play their separate parts.
Pairing: Fred/Hermione
Hermione had been to St. Mungos before. She'd been to muggle hospitals more times than you could count, and apart from all the obvious magic, they were no different, really. The same whitewashed walls to fight off infection, the same weird smell that all healthcare facilities have...
What you notice the most is the emotion. And that, Hermione mused, was what was so poignant to see right now, the emotion across everyone's faces. Terror, grief, anger, anxiousness... Obviously in more concentration tonight, as the castle was in a state of panic, people were bringing in bodies, injured, dead or alive here was the logical place to bring them. And the relatives were everywhere, in the halls, standing in the overflowing waiting rooms, chaos was all around them.
The sea of people nontheless parted as a healer levitated a still sort of conscious Fred Weasley, who she'd been told she had to walk behind, not beside. She kept a constant eye on him, the other on the people around her. People looked up and regarded herself and Harry with odd glances. Some clapped, some smiled, most whispered. She ignored it all, despite knowing that Harry beside her would be worrying about how to react.
"In here." Fred's parents were being motioned into the small room, and when the family made to follow, the healer hesitated, looking sheepish.
"He needs to be examined... It'd be best if just 3 or 4 stayed with him, for now?" He addressed this to Charlie and Bill, clearly the oldest there now that Fred's parents had headed into the room. George followed through without a word, at some point taking Hermione's arm and guiding her with him.
"Actually.." The young healer looked a bit embarassed, but continued.
"It would be advisable to have family." He stated, and Hermione stopped. Rather than object she just stared at him, not sure what to respond.
"She is family." Came a resolute voice from behind the healer, and Arthur Weasley looked at her, then the healer, looking back to her with a small smile.
"Well-" The healer seemed lost, not sure whether to push the rule, or give way since the family was well known and he clearly knew every one of their names.
"She's family." Arthur Weasley repeated, and gestured to Hermione.
"And I'm proud to say it." he finished resolutely, with a reassuring grin at the younger girl. The healer clearly gave up, and shut the door behind the four visitors, looking around at the others.
"You can't wait outside..." He fussed, and then started to walk, then stopped, looking back at them.
"Is there anything we can do? Do you need help?" Charlie offered, with a murmur of consent from his siblings.
"As long as we get told if anything happens with Fred, it's more hands for you." Bill continued, and the healer nodded.
"Yes, I'm sorry, we're.. we're very busy." His eyes caught Bill's.
"Actually, Mr. Weasley, there's something you would be a great help with." He said, having obviously debated requesting Bill's service for a moment.
"Would you consent to coming with me? As a consult for... a more sensitive case?" Bill nodded.
"Of course." The healer looked at the others.
"If you go to the help desk on this floor, your help will be gladly appreciated. We're just trying to organise who's where, take lists and things, so that's the sort of work you'll end up doing." With purpose, he nodded at Bill and the two headed off down the hall, with Harry, Ron, Charlie and Ginny remaining.
"Come on then guys." Charlie said with a grin, and the four of them made their way down the hall.
"What case is it?" Bill asked the healer, who looked lost for words.
"Well.. Ah... Greyback.." Bill nodded, clear understanding flowing over him.
"It's someone like me? Bitten when he wasn't turned?" The healer nodded.
"A young woman. I believe she was in your house, actually. A Lavender Brown?" Bill's breath caught in his throat. He hadn't known her, but as Ron's ex girlfriend he'd certainly heard a lot about her, seeing her very briefly at Christmas over his brother's fifth year. He hadn't expected someone he knew, but in this case, he was unique, and the obvious choice to talk to another with the same condition.
"She's in here." The healer turned back to him nervously.
"Do you mind?" Bill shook his head ferverently.
"Of course not." The healer made to leave, but after a second, turned back.
"My name is healer Jones. Alec Jones." Bill nodded.
"I'll see you around Alec."
He pushed the door open with no more thought, unprepared for the sight he saw.
"Mr. Brown?" He addressed the older man, assuming that she was her father, and was greeted by the face of an old, middle aged man, who looked mortified to have been caught. Bill's breath caught at the sight of tear tracks on the older man's face, and stepped forward, putting a hand gently on his elbow.
"It's totally normal." He said quietly. Mr. Brown nodded, but was unable to stop another tear falling. Bill gave the man some privacy, instead turning to the bed, closing his eyes at what he saw.
"I'm so sorry." Bill addressed the room at large, both Lavender's mourning father and the girl on the bed. For Lavender Brown was hardly recognisable as the girl he'd known so vaguely. Deep, dark cuts, the kind you only got from werewolf bites, covered the entire right side of her body, with gauges and gashes all across her left arm and shoulder. A painful looking slash crossed from her right her to her breastbone.
Then her face.
The formerly pretty, occasionally vapid face of Lavender Brown was covered in slashes, scars and cuts, and what wasn't cut was bruised, purple and yellow. Her eyes met Bill's, unblinking as she attempted a smile.
"I haven't seen a mirror, yet." She whispered.
"It won't always be as bad as it is now." Bill returned, conjuring a stool and not breaking eye contact with her, desperate to not show his anger, revulsion or sadness at her scars.
"It's awful, isn't it." She whispered. He shook his head.
"The bruising will clear up. The scars will fade, in time." He said slowly, and flipped his hair back. His own scars were evident, though not as severe as hers.
"You fought bravely. You fought. So no scars you bear will ever be a burden, Lavender." Bill spoke calmly.
"She saved three lives." Lavender's father appeared to have found his voice, and Bill turned to look at him. Clearly encouraged, he continued.
"Three young ones, they told me. First years? She attracted his attention, let them run. But he was too strong, too fast." He sat back down again, and the tears started to fall again. Bill turned back to Lavender.
"Couldn't let him kill them. They're only 11." Lavender looked at Bill, and he felt something, deep within him.
"That's one of the bravest things I've ever heard." Bill said quietly.
"You wear those scars with pride, Lavender. And you can always talk to me if you need me, if you get any weird symptons.. Anything." Lavender smiled at him.
"Thank you Bill." She said slowly, as the older Weasley stood to leave.
"Hermione and Fred." Ron kept repeating to Harry, as they walked around the wards, checking names off an enormous clipboard they had been given. They were recording names, recording condition, and date they'd seen them. It was the best the hospital could do.
"I know, Ron." Harry sighed heavily.
"She never told us." Harry nodded.
"It's not about us, though, Ron." He answered. Harry had thought long and hard since he'd heard this news from Hermione, only an hour or so before, very quickly coming to the conclusion that his best friend would never have hidden anything from him unless she had felt she needed to.
"A secret relationship kind of pales in comparison to our year, doesn't it?" Ron skimmed his hand over the side of a bed, and Harry laughed.
"If she's happy, we should be happy." Harry stated, and Ron nodded.
"I thought I'd lost a brother today. I thought I'd lost my best friend today. I have lost friends today." Ron shook his head.
"I can't find it in myself to be angry with her." Harry shrugged.
"Maybe Luna the pacifist is rubbing off on you?" Ron smirked, swatting his best friend.
"Don't think two hours of a relationship is enough time for anything to rub off on me, Harry." He winked.
"Two hours my arse, Ron, you've been in love with Loony for years."
"Don't call her that." Harry rolled his eyes at him.
"You gonna marry my sister?" At the abrupt subject change Harry turned to stare at Ron.
"You gonna beat me up?" Harry returned.
"No."
"Then yeah, I think I will."
Fred was holding on, he definitely was. Hermione, George and the Weasley parents had waited with baited breath while the healers had diagnosed Fred, and breathed a sigh of relief as one when they'd been informed he would pull through. However, now, with time on their hands, they had time to discuss the matter at hand.
"So you and Fred?" Mrs. Weasley had said to Hermione with a small smile.
"I'm sorry we kept it a secret." Hermione whispered, her hand encircled Fred's as she faced his family.
"I love him." She said, meeting each of their eyes, finally, George's.
"He's been everything to me for so long.. And he always will be." Mrs. Weasley looked slightly teary at that, pulling her into a hug.
"Oh, I'm so happy. Even on this awful day, I'm so happy."
