Chapter Nine... 'Falling from the Sky'
Hermione arrived at the hospital and ran down the corridor that had now become very familiar with her. She raced into Oliver's room not even bothering to knock and pointed a finger at him.
"It wasn't me!" she said harshly, almost accusingly.
Oliver sat back stunned. A second ago he'd been sitting there re-reading that dreaded article and mustering up all the anger and pain inside him that had building up since the accident and now here the wicked witch herself was, standing there pointing a finger at him. Now that he thought about it, he could not make himself mad at her. He just couldn't. Like it wasn't possible.
"I know," he found himself saying.
Hermione sat down on the end of his bed, just where Sarah had been a little while ago and explained everything Harry and Ron had told her to him, almost word-for-word. She even added on some of Ron's comments.
Oliver tried to take it all in and reached out for Hermione's hand. Their skin touched just for a moment before she briskly, pulled her hand away. As much as she wanted to touch him, she couldn't. Not with things the way they were. Not with Sarah feeling the way she did.
"Did I do something wrong?" asked Oliver.
"No," she replied.
Once she'd said that, she got a reaction she had not been expecting. Oliver's face turned white. He looked down at his hands, he looked down at his legs which he could not feel and he looked back into Hermione's eyes. And then he cried.
He cried like he had never cried in his entire life. He used every muscle, every tiny part of him and heaved the tears out in great rivers. He sobbed harder and harder until Hermione thought he was going to have an asthma attack. He gurgled, choked, gulped and coughed and all she could do was hold him. She held him for what seemed like hours and whispered comforting words in his ears but they didn't seem to have any effect. The tears just flowed for great lengths. Oliver hiccuped and sobbed and struggled to breathe. At one stage a nurse came in wondering what the great howling was but then saw them and thought she better leave. At last, the crying died down a bit and he just sat there like a fragile baby in Hermione's arms.
"Hermione," he coughed.
"Yes?" she asked, her voice soft.
"Thank you," he replied.
After that there was a silence. Not an uncomfortable one. Just a silence. And it stayed that way until the early hours of the next morning.
Neither of them had dozed off but just sat there lost in their own thoughts.
Oh my goodness, my poor, poor Oliver,
thought Hermione. Here I've been worrying about my stupid career and stupid articles and he's been stuck in hospital contemplating his life's worth! Grr, you can be so insensitive Hermione!Oh man, you're such an idiot Oliver. Tell her, just tell her! No, I can't. It's wrong. There's something wrong. I can sense it. No, you better just wait
, thought Oliver."Oliver?" asked Hermione after a moment.
"Yeah?" he asked. He felt much calmer now. Tears seemed to relieve him.
Before she could even open her mouth to continue, someone came barging through the door. It was Harry and Ron.
"Guys? What are you doing here? It's three in the morning!" Hermione exclaimed, getting over the surprise.
"I know..." grumbled Ron who looked very sleepy indeed dressed in his blue and white pyjamas that strangely reminded Hermione of the Bananas in Pyjamas from muggle television. (Author's Note: Not sure if they have the Bananas in Pyjamas in England)
"Hermione! Rita Skeeter has been sent to jail!" burst out Harry who looked exhausted from running all the way here. Seemed he and Ron were yet to master the art of Glapparating. Either that, or they just hadn't thought of it.
"What?" asked Hermione and Oliver, simultaneously.
"Jail! Abby just sent us an owl. Here!" Harry thrust the parchment in her face.
She quickly read over it with Oliver reading over her shoulder.
Dear Hermione, Harry and Ron,
Just thought you oughta hear the news first. Rita Skeeter has been sent to Azkaban on charges of misguiding the owl post, fraud and using her power role to her advantage. She's been sentenced to life. Apparently, the little ordeal with Hermione's article was only one of many laws she has broken.
Looking forward to receiving your next article.
--Abby Folding--
Editor, The Daily Prophet
All of a sudden Hermione's life seemed to be nearly back in order. She could only hope that everything else would soon fall into place.
* * * * *
Sarah stared out of the dark purple window and out towards the sparkling silver stars. What could she do? How could she tell him? It was break his heart. Ruin his life.
She glanced quickly at the clock on the wall... 3:30am. She hadn't been able to get a single wink of sleep. Is this what the rest of her life was going to be like?
Things had been so good with Oliver. They'd laughed, enjoyed life, ate together, chatted about nothing, chatted about everything, visited places, learnt about new things... and it was all gone now.
Just because you couldn't handle his fame. Well, imagine what could have happened if you hadn't broken up with him Sarah! Now he's not famous and no one stalks him or demands autographs, well... you could have been there with him.
It was no good dwelling on the past however and Sarah knew it. She also knew she had to tell Oliver and the longer she put it off, the harder it was going to be.
I know you love Hermione,
thought Sarah. "I know you love Hermione. Be happy with her. She's a good girl and a great friend. Be happy.She looked down at her stomach and rested a hand upon it. "Just us two now, eh? I'm sorry I stuffed up with your Dad. Don't worry, I'm going to try as hard as I can to be the best mother to you. I just hope you can forgive me when you're grown up."
* * * * *
Everybody welcomed the news of Rita Skeeter being sent to Azkaban with great satisfaction. Everyone made the effort to forget the problems revolving in their life for just one night to celebrate back in Hermione's room at the hotel/tent. It was to be their last night there... tomorrow they had to pack up and return home. Of course they'd continue to see Oliver in hospital as now they'd all mastered the glapparating (even Harry and Ron) it made life a lot easier for them.
The best news for the evening however was the news that Oliver was allowed to leave the hospital even if it was for just the one night. Hermione arrived at the hospital that afternoon ready to help him get back. He wasn't up to glapparating so she had to push his 'mobbilachair' all the way back to the tent herself... it was going to take her a whole fifteen minutes with the chair being charmed and all.
She came and knocked on the big white door that had become as close to her as a best friend by now. Oliver called her in so she stepped in to find him dressed in normal clothes and packing a small overnight bag for he'd have to return early the next morning. For the first time in a very long time, Hermione saw a genuine happy smile on his face. His whole face seemed to light up with it too sending off a most radiant glow.
"Oliver!" Hermione gave him a quick hug, bending over to be at level with him in his mobbilachair. The mobbilachair was a strange looking white contraption that had a seat, a few strange shaped wheels and a little remote control that was attached to the arm rest. It reminded them both of a muggle 'wheelchair' just slightly more advanced and it too gave off a glow (a bit like Oliver's) because it was charmed.
"Hey Hermione!" he replied throwing his bag over the back of the mobbiliachair. "Ready?"
So they left. Very quickly. It was like seeing the outside for the very first time for Oliver. He stared up at the sky the whole trip home just watching and wishing he could be up there again. Soaring. Flying. It was like all those dreams he'd been constantly having. Dreams they were too. He'd be soaring among the clouds, lighter than a feather and with every inch of his body working properly. They were the most wonderful dreams he'd ever had but the idea of ever really being able to achieve them again was fading more and more each day.
"So Oliver," began Hermione as she walked him down a busy London street. They were beginning to attract many odd looks from muggles who passed by. "How does it feel?"
"Amazing!" he replied, still looking up at the big blue sky. His neck was beginning to hurt. "Absolutely amazing. I can smell something other than medicine! It's called fresh air!" If he'd been able to, Oliver would have jumped up and cartwheeled down the street from happiness. He didn't know a feeling of such ecstacy was possible.
They arrived back at the hotel/tent soon after that and everyone welcomed Oliver with open arms and encouraging words. Even Sarah got in the spirit and gave him a quick, uncomfortable and awkward hug. Putting all things aside... tonight was going to be great!
While Hermione and Oliver had been away, Harry, Ron and Sarah had got to work on doing some serious decorating. They'd enchanted the ceiling the way Professor Dumbledore used to to make it look like the sky which pleased Oliver immensely. They'd strung up glittery balloons that occasionally popped (giving everyone a heart attack) and when they popped bright shooting stars would go everywhere... then they'd reform and wait another few minutes before popping again.
There were candles of every shape, size and colour floating around the room. At one stage one nearly set Hermione's hair on fire so they reduced the number of them from five hundred to twenty. It was a safer option.
The most beautiful thing in the room however was the cake that Ron had been baking earlier that day. He brought it out after everyone had finished their main course (it took awhile because they were all laughing and chatting so much) wearing a chef's apron and hat.
"May I present...zee most beauuuudiful cake you'z 'ave ever' zeen!" he announced in a terrible french accent. He placed it carefully in the centre of the table. And it was the most beautiful cake they'd ever seen. For one thing it was magical so it never ran out. Secondly it was very big. But the most stunning thing about it was the intricately detailed pictures decorating the icing on top. In the centre was a picture of all five of them laughing and raising their glasses in a toast. Around the picture that was so realistic it could have been a photograph, were little yellow stars each glowing their own different colour. It was a brilliant masterpiece and one Ron was very proud of.
"Wow," everyone breathed. Oliver raised his glass for the fourth time that evening (they toasted to practically everything). "To Ron!"
"TO RON!" Everyone clinked glasses making Ron blush furiously. "Thanks guys," he bowed gracefully causing more fits of laughter to emerge.
They cut into the cake and had it with coffee sitting around lazily on the big armchairs.
"This is the most enjoyable evening I have ever had," Hermione said and it was no exaggeration. Tonight had been perfect. Picture perfect. They'd all thought that the night they'd gone for butterbeers with the Puddlemere players was the best night they'd had but they had been proven wrong this evening.
"I agree," added Sarah, as even she couldn't help but have a wonderful time.
They kept chatting and laughing until very late that night. They would have kept going if they had been able to but Ron was snoring loudly and Sarah was struggling to keep her eyes open.
"I'm going to bed," she announced at one-thirty. "I'll drag Ron back to his room too," she added with a giggle and she pulled him off the couch and he fell promptly onto the ground. They all laughed as he grumpily stood up and let Sarah push him back to his room.
This left Harry, Hermione and Oliver sitting there. The mood was much quieter now and a lot softer. Happier yes, but softer.
"Well I think it's time for me to retire for this evening too," said Harry beginning to stand up. Though he wasn't really tired yet, he decided to leave Hermione and Oliver alone as it was the first time they'd been together alone in an environment other than the hospital room.
"Alright," said Hermione quietly. Oliver didn't argue either. "Night Harry... and thanks."
"You're welcome," said Harry leaving the room and quietly closing the door behind him.
Hermione sat there replaying many of the night's moments again in her head.
"What are you smiling about?" commented Oliver who noticed the smile that had crept up on Hermione's face.
She laughed. "I'm just thinking... about tonight. Wasn't it wonderful?"
He nodded. "Yes, it was fantastic. Truly fantastic. Made me realise how much I have to live for. You guys... you're all such wonderful friends. Shall we sit outside?"
Hermione stood up and helped Oliver get out and onto the balcony. They watched shooting stars go by in silence and both found themselves wondering the same thing.
I wonder what Hermione would do if I put my arm around her?
I wonder what Oliver would do if I moved just a smidge closer?
Neither procrastinated on it. As Oliver carefully draped his arm around Hermione's shoulders, she moved in closer and felt the warmth of his body. It was difficult as he was in the mobbilachair but they managed to get closer even with the chair in the way. Hermione relaxed her head on his shoulder and could smell the slight scent of his cologne. She breathed it in and Oliver leaned in closer awkward as it may have been. He could smell her hair shampoo... freesia-like and wished the night would never end. Is this what was called 'true happiness', 'fulfillment of life'?
Nothing could have ruined that evening. Not even if someone came rushing into the room claiming Voldemort had returned could have spoiled this truly magical evening.
Author's Note: How's that for fluff? I can't believe I finally finished that chapter. It took me forever because after the part where Sarah was lonely and talking to herself, I just had this major blocking. I had to sit and come back to the chapter about twenty times before any more inspiration came to me. I felt it needed something romance-y in it too... can't believe they still haven't kissed. Ooh, this story is so much fun to write! Hope you're all liking it too, which by the sounds of it... you are. Thanks for the great reviews!
Another note: Please check out my latest story I've been working on. It's called 'The Not-So Perfect Girl' and focuses on the life of Cho Chang, a sixth year. She appears to be in control of her life and is the envy of every other female in the school. She's popular, gorgeous, has all the boys chasing her and is a great Quidditch player… however deep down inside Cho is hurting and the hurt soon turns to something very serious.
