Delayed trains aren't all bad, annoying, yes, but when they give you the opportunity to get a chapter out, it's not all bad!

Very wordy this one, but this is what happens when I get into one train of thought (no pun intended).

If you could let me know what you think, it would be much appreciated. Ta :D

Chapter 10

Ron knew he was pissing off the staff of St. Mungo's, more specifically the Healers and Mediwitches and wizards under Healer Watson's authority.

They had been instructed to regularly check Ron hadn't fallen asleep and he had already nearly given two of the Junior Healers and a Mediwizard a fatal heart attack when they looked in to the room.

He wasn't asleep (as they found out after sprinting across the room to Hermione's bed to find Ron looking up innocently at them through wide awake eyes,) he had simply adopted a position that may give the impression he was asleep.

He was sitting on the edge of his chair, his torso lying across Hermione, his left arm protectively covering her and his hand on her hip. His right hand held her left and his head lay on his outstretched arm.

When the second Junior Healer had skidded to a halt at the bedside opposite Ron, he had simply turned his head an inch to look at the Healer and said 'Problem?' before being reminded by the Healer once again that he was not to fall asleep whilst at the hospital. Ron not so kindly said in return that he knew this information already and that he wasn't going to fall asleep.

The Healer had left not looking at all convinced by Ron's last statement and Ron had gone back to looking at Hermione and thinking things through.

Because for once he had no intentions of falling asleep. He was thinking, planning and working things out, and he knew, as much as his recent dreams had helped in some ways, in the world of the living, they were no help at all.

He had decisions to make. Tough decisions that he was scared of for more than one reason. He knew anything he did himself to help Hermione would have risks, and, as much as he hated to admit it, he was scared of the possible outcomes regarding his own health.

But as much as he was scared of what might happen to him, he was scared of what would happen to Hermione if he left her how she was. Would she ever come round of her own accord? Or was her lacking the substance they both shared enough to keep her in a coma until her body stopped being able to keep her alive?

And then, what if he did do something and it merely led to them swapping places? Would Hermione then risk her life by doing whatever he had to bring him back from the same place she had been?

'Nah, you'd work something else out, wouldn't you?' he asked in reply to his own question.

He had tried to think – how had Hermione phrased it? 'Outside the box' that was it – he had tried to think outside the box and come up with all sorts of 'what ifs?' to a few scenarios he had come up with, but they had all, at one point, needed their strange blood component to be extracted from his blood, and, apparently, that was no longer an option that they could pursue. There was only the one option left but no one was going to let him risk his health. This was why he had to come up with a plan to enable him to carry out his other half formed plan to help Hermione.

He had a lot of thinking to do.

Percy Weasley knew his brother well, more than his brother would ever admit.

As he was getting ready for another day at work, he pondered over the research he had undertaken for his brother and thought over how much he would tell Ron when he next saw him. In all fairness that depended greatly on the results of the tests Healer Watson was expecting back from his colleague today. If all went as planned, then Healer Watson and his team would have a way to bring Hermione out of her coma, without harm to her and more importantly, without harm to Ron.

He was scared for Ron, more than he liked to admit, but after seeing Ron fit violently when he fell asleep holding Hermione's hand, Percy had vowed to himself that he would come up with something to help Hermione without hurting his little brother.

It was because he knew Ron so well that he was scared for him. He knew the way Ron thought and knew the types of conclusions Ron would jump to. Hermione had 'reacted' when Ron had fallen asleep and Ron would take that to mean that it was doing her good and that he should keep on doing it until she woke up.

Percy physically shuddered at the memory of his brother fitting and convulsing on the hospital floor, obviously in pain, with no way to stop it at all.

So he was hoping and praying that the Healer would return the news that they had managed to isolate and duplicate whatever it was in Hermione and Ron's blood that connected them in a way no one understood, so that Ron didn't feel the need to do something stupid and willingly give Hermione what his and Hermione's body apparently needed to function properly.

Despite him hoping for the best possible result, Percy was prepared for the worst as well. He knew his brother and, therefore, knew that if the professionals couldn't help Hermione then Ron would try everything and anything he could to bring her back to him. Percy had, therefore, with this in mind, expanded his research to techniques, which could be implemented to reduce the harm that Hermione could do to Ron if he insisted on trying his 'falling asleep' trick again.

For once he wished he was back at Hogwarts, he had a certain book in mind that he thought would help him. He had to smile at the thought that while working for the Ministry of Magic, with all the resources and archives that were housed in the grand building, he was wishing he had access to a school library. He had to admit though, that he had a soft spot for the school library. It had never failed him before; chances were if he needed help from the ancient school again, it would aid him once more.

But despite his usual pessimism, Percy Weasley was hoping for the best.

Charles Granger was someone who didn't normally flap around, get worked up or stressed out and he especially wasn't the type of person who paced around. He was, therefore, a bit concerned that his body had decided the best way to deal with his current stress was to walk up and down his lounge instead of either sitting calmly, waiting for the time to leave for St. Mungo's Hospital of Maladies and Injuries to come round, or reassure himself that everything that could be done, was being done and there was, therefore, no point in getting worked up.

His father had always told him that there was no point in worrying, events would transpire how they damn well liked and there was no point in worrying about it until they actually transpired.

He normally followed his father's advice, but today, he couldn't help but worry. He was sure his father would understand that when it came to worrying about his only daughter, who was currently in a magical coma – the type of which the professionals had never dealt with before – the rules about worrying flew out the window along with calm, rational, thought.

He decided to sit down and wait for his official escort from St. Mungo's instead of wearing his carpet thin.

He was worried about his daughter. In all fairness he had been worried about his daughter since the day he packed her off on a train to the far north of Scotland to learn how to develop and control her apparent magical talents. That worry had intensified when they had gone into hiding, something he thought he would never have to even contemplate, never mind plan out with the magical authorities. The worst part of the previous year and a half had been knowing Hermione had been out in the thick of the conflict, and there was nothing he could say or do to stop her going.

On that day the tables had been turned again. Normally it was him who accepted Hermione's decisions and had let her get on with them and his wife, who had quietly voiced all the things that might go wrong with them, and tried to talk Hermione round to her thinking if she didn't think that her decision was the correct one.

But on that day, it had been him who had tried to stop Hermione doing what she wanted to, endlessly listing the things that might go wrong, listing the reasons Hermione had said to him as reasons why they had to go into hiding back at her. Strangely, Veronica seemed to resign herself to the fact that Hermione would go with Harry and Ron, regardless of what either of them said.

When he had confronted his wife and asked her why she had just let her go without a fight, she had looked him directly in the eyes and smiled.

'We taught her what is right and wrong, and Hermione knows, that as much as this may be the hardest and most dangerous things she will ever have to do in her life, that it's the right thing to do. And because of that she won't stay with us. She needs to go. Let her grow into the person we always told her was the right type of person to grow up to be.'

And when it came down to it, she was right, and Hermione was right in taking the decision she did, even though things hadn't turned out the way that they had planned.

But now there was something else that was worrying him, or rather someone. Ronald Weasley had taken it upon himself, on the last time they hastily met, to promise he would return Hermione to him. He Had taken it upon himself to protect Hermione through whatever they had to do and bring her home, however much she protested that she could look after herself.

He didn't doubt Ron's conviction in any way, but he knew that sometimes conviction wasn't enough, especially when there were forces at work that were stronger than even the bravest souls. To put it bluntly, the odds were stacked against them. If they set out to do whatever they thought they needed to do, and accomplished their goals, it would be one hell of an achievement. Doing that and returning home safely, was another thing entirely.

It was Ron's conviction that now worried him on top of everything else he was dealing with. Ron felt personally responsible and extremely guilty for what had happened to Hermione, regardless of what he had been told over and over again by Harry, Arthur, himself and Veronica. Charles knew that the guilt Ron felt would drive him to help Hermione in any way and this is where Charles found him to be conflicted in a way that scared him.

He had told Ron that he was not to 'play the hero' and follow any leads that might lead to him putting himself in danger. The 'incident' that had led to him collapsing on the floor had given Ron hope and an obvious way of helping Hermione. Charles saw it too. He saw the logic that had fuelled Ron's thoughts of helping Hermione recover and he had to admit that it was certainly something that had to be looked at and considered carefully. But he had seen the way Ron's eyes had lit up when the realisation that there was an obvious answer to the problem hit him, and knew that it would take a hell of a lot of dissuasion for him not to go ahead with whatever plan he would come up with to make her better.

And that was why Charles Granger was conflicted. He cared for Ron, of course he did. He had shown what sort of person he was on that second meeting where he had promised to do all in his power to protect his little girl, and he didn't want anything to happen to him, or for the Weasleys to go through what he was going through. But there was a chance that it would work. There was a chance that whatever Ron might decide to do would bring back his only daughter to him.

And there was nothing more Charles Granger wanted in the world than to have Hermione back with him safe and well.

Mediwitch Harrison was tired. She had been working for twelve hours and was looking forward to when the clock turned to eight o'clock when she could go home and sleep before starting another night shift on the ward.

She hadn't quite got used to night shifts, but she would have to, she had another three days of them before she was entitled to four days off, which preceded another five days of working 'eight til eight'. After that she would have to readjust her body clock back to normal and start working day shifts once again.

She could complain and whine about the rough deal she was getting, but it was expected. She was new to the hospital and therefore had to go through all the wards, all the shift types and all the mundane and sometimes stomach turning clean up jobs that were required of her and everyone else who was just starting out in a career of Nursing.

This evening had been happily enjoying the lull in activity. Over the last few days there had been far too many admissions to the ward she was working on. It was both a blessing and a curse to have a relative admitted to this ward. She thought of it as an in-between ward. The people who were admitted – in the highly professional opinion of the Healers downstairs – weren't liable to wake up in a day, or even a week or two – and was, therefore, the 'curse' part of the admission, but there was hope that something would come up and their condition would improve. In other words there was more to be looked into and until that had happened, they would stay in this ward.

It was in no way professional to voice her opinion, but when she contemplated the state of some of the people who were admitted to this ward, sometimes she thought the Healers really didn't know what was wrong and until they had any sort of clue of how to deal with their patients, they would stay here.

Magic was a strange and unpredictable thing, and that fact, in some instances, made Healing a very hit and miss situation.

Mediwitch Harrison was about to file the last of her paperwork when her eyes fell upon the door of the room, which housed Miss Hermione Granger. She knew Miss Granger's boyfriend was visiting her, and she, along with the rest of the staff had been given strict instructions to regularly check up on Ronald Weasley and make sure he hadn't fallen asleep. The senior members of the staff on the ward had been told specifically why that was, but Mediwitch Harrison was one of those still in the dark as to why that was.

She didn't need to understand the reasoning behind her instructions to be able to carry them out properly and efficiently. She made her way down the corridor and was about to open the door when it opened from the other side. The tall redheaded man walked out and nodded his head in acknowledgement.

'Are you leaving for long, Mister Weasley?' Mediwitch Harrison asked.

'Um…yeah. I'm not coming back before lunch. I might see you later on though.'

Harrison smiled.

'Well, my shift ends in,' she checked her watch,' precisely eight minutes, so I won't be here when you return, but I might see you later on tonight or tomorrow.'

She smiled and was happy to see Ron return the gesture.

'Yeah…' Ron replied with a nod. 'Tomorrow.'