A/N: Hello all! I'm so sorry this took a few days longer than I expected; I had a bit of writer's block to contend with, and since this chapter is perhaps the most pivotal of the fic I wanted to be sure I got it right. I also got distracted by writing fluffy drabbles over the weekend - there's one called "Heat" and several more posted in a collection called "Kissing You," and they can all be found on this site if you're interested in reading some Romione loving. :)
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling is a queen and I'm just another girl without a crown. (Bonus points if you can name the song.)
Not for the first time in his life, Ron thanked his lucky stars that there was a separate entrance to St. Mungo's for DMLE officials; located in a sort of back alley, it was easily accessible by Apparition, and any official arriving there was offered immediate assistance from the staff upon showing his identification badge. It was to this entrance that Ron took the unconscious Mrs. Granger, and within twenty seconds of his arrival she had been taken away on a sort of hovering stretcher, a small group of Healers surrounding her as another questioned Ron while leading him to a waiting room nearby.
"I don't know which curse it was. Purple light, and she was unconscious immediately. She's been tortured, too, dunno how long," Ron explained as he and the tall, dark-haired Healer accompanying him rounded a corner.
"The Cruciatus Curse?" the Healer, whose name badge read Oliver Ives, asked in a deep voice.
"Yeah," Ron confirmed. "But she was stirring after that; it wasn't til she was cursed that she fell unconscious."
"Thank you, Auror Weasley. Do you have to go back out?"
"Not yet; I'm not leaving til I know if she's going to be okay or not. She's gonna be my mother-in-law," he added in response to the strange look the Healer was giving him.
"Okay. Obviously we can't give out details to anyone that's not next-of-kin, but we'll give you a preliminary report as soon as we can. Ten minutes, give or take," Healer Ives said kindly. "Take a seat."
Though he was the only occupant, Ron chose the least comfortable-looking chair in the tiny waiting room and sat on the edge of it. He drummed his fingers against his knee as he looked around; there wasn't much to see in the room, but he took it all in anyway - the plain white walls, the assortment of chairs: some were wicker, like his, others resembled the squashy armchairs in the Gryffindor common room. As he looked about, he tried to wrap his mind around what all had happened.
Unless something spectacularly disastrous had happened in his absence, the perpetrators were in custody. In any other circumstance, he'd have been celebrating back at the office by now, but what had happened to the Grangers seemed to tarnish their victory. Both of Hermione's parents had been subjected to the Cruciatus Curse, that much was clear, and that alone was enough to make Ron want to throw up. But they were alive, he reminded himself. Things could have been so, so much worse.
He began to tap his foot impatiently as the minutes slid together. He needed to get back to Hermione. She'd be devastated, of course; he could tell when they left that she had been holding herself together by a thread. He trusted Harry to try to keep her calm until he could get back, but he doubted the sight of her father's terrified, shell-shocked face would do much good on that front. If he could only be sure her mother was going to be okay, he could perhaps give her some much-needed relief and comfort.
After what seemed like an eternity in an anxiety-induced hell, Healer Ives reentered the room looking serious, but not quite grim. Ron jumped to his feet immediately.
"Auror Weasley," Healer Ives greeted him. "Barring any serious complications, Mrs. Granger will live."
Ron let out a sigh of relief he hadn't known he'd been holding. "Do you know what's wrong with her?"
"We're not entirely sure," Healer Ives replied apologetically. "We've managed to stabilize her, and we're doing the curse analytics now to figure out what her treatment ought to be. Has your department notified her next-of-kin? We'll only be able to release the details if they're here."
"I'm about to," Ron said. "Thank you. We'll be back here in a mo."
"Take all the time you need at your office. It'll likely be an hour before we'll have a conclusive report," Healer Ives informed him. Ron nodded and shook his hand before rushing back to the DMLE apparition point. He had to get to Hermione.
-000-
It hadn't been enough, Hermione thought desperately. It hadn't been enough that she was a sobbing, nervous wreck; Ron's superiors just had to make her feel uncomfortable on top of it all. They hadn't spoken to her, though they had shot her a few funny looks, but the way they were strolling through the office, talking rather casually about the mission Harry and Ron were out on - the rescue of her parents from former Death Eaters, for Merlin's sake - was incredibly disconcerting. She supposed the fact that she wasn't waiting for their return on her own ought to comfort her, but the mere presence of the gruff, middle-aged men had made her feel rather silly and embarrassed for being such an emotional mess, though she knew she had every right to be. Still, she was doing everything in her power to put up a calm façade; she knew, however, that she was failing spectacularly.
Hermione was jerked from her reverie by the sound of the door to the office slamming against the wall as it opened; through it walked two men, the younger one essentially dragging the other as he went.
"Dad!" Hermione shrieked, rushing forward and flinging her arms around her haggard-looking father. "Dad, you're alright! Are you alright?" Dad's expression was strangely blank; Hermione was unavoidably reminded of the look upon his face after she'd cast the charm that had wiped his memory. It was as if he'd forgotten what exactly he was supposed to feel.
"He's in a bit of a shock, I think," said Harry apologetically, and Hermione turned to him as though she had only just noticed his presence. She walked into his open arms then, though she turned her head so that she could keep her still stunned-looking father in her line of sight.
"What's happened, Harry? Where are Mum and Ron?" Hermione asked immediately as she surveyed his face when she pulled away a moment later. He didn't seem devastated; she took that as a good sign, but something was clearly off, judging by his pained expression. "Are they okay? Oh Merlin, please tell me they're okay."
"We got them all, the people behind it. Ron's perfectly fine, but your mum…well, she's alive, Hermione, that's important," Harry said, shifting his weight uncomfortably as he spoke.
Hermione gasped sharply as she reached out to grab her father's limp hand. "Harry, tell me what's happened," she demanded in a low voice, determined to swallow the lump in her throat and avoid the urge to scream and curl up into a tight ball.
"She was hit by a curse of some sort, we dunno what. She was unconscious, but alive. Ron's taken her to St. Mungo's; he should be back here any moment."
"We've got to go, then!" Hermione insisted anxiously, but Harry shook his head.
"Just wait for Ron. He's got clearance; he can get you into the DMLE entrance, and that wing's got a semi-private waiting room. It'll just be a moment, Hermione, I promise," he added, reaching out and touching her arm comfortingly.
Just then, the two stern-looking Aurors that had been waiting with Hermione called Harry over; he shot her a slightly regretful look, but she smiled reassuringly and indicated that he ought to go. She was quite certain her attempt at a smile had barely constituted a grimace, but she knew that there was nothing else to be done until Ron got back. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she turned to address her father, who had sunk into a nearby chair, his vacant expression growing more and more irritated by the second.
"Dad?" Hermione said tentatively. "You heard Harry, Dad, Mum's alive." She gulped and sniffed back tears before continuing. "The Healers at St. Mungo's are brilliant; she's in the best possible care."
"Right," Dad replied distractedly. "Right. Okay. Where are we?"
"The Ministry of Magic," Hermione answered, glad for a momentary distraction from her state of perpetual worry. "The Auror Office, to be exact; this is where Harry and Ron work. You may well be one of the only muggles to ever be in here, actually. Most don't know it's here, you see."
"Ah," Dad replied loftily. "And why, may I ask, am I not with my wounded wife?"
"Ron's taken her to the hospital," Hermione said slowly, resolving once again to hold herself together for his sake.
"How in the hell," Dad continued, gathering steam now, "did those bastards get into our home?"
"I don't know. The security was breached; they'll look into it. But they caught them, yeah?" Hermione chattered nervously, glancing up toward the door and willing Ron to appear.
"Not quite soon enough!" Dad retorted, his voice escalating. "That was…how do you even have spells that do…were we sending you to school to learn shit like that?"
"What do you mean?" Hermione pressed nervously. "What did they do to you, Dad?"
"How should I know? I'm a…what do you call it…a muggle, aren't I?" Dad shouted angrily.
Hermione didn't know how to respond, but she was saved from it; at that moment, the door opened once again. A small crew of Aurors, who had presumably been at the scene and just returned from apprehending the suspects, filed in, and Hermione let out a sigh of relief when she saw the redhead entering toward the back of the group.
"Ron!" she cried, rushing toward him and quite literally slamming into him. "Ron, you're alright! Where's mum, Ron? How is she? Oh, please, Ron, tell me everything - Harry said she's alive; she's alive, right? What's happened?"
"She's okay. The Healers don't know much yet, but she's alive and barring any obscure complications, she's going to stay that way," Ron replied in his most soothing tone, rubbing her back as he spoke.
"Are you sure?" Hermione asked anxiously, and she took several deep, calming breaths when he nodded emphatically. "You don't know what she was hit with?"
"No. We know about the Cruciatus beforehand, but-"
"The what?" Hermione felt the blood drain from her face. She hoped she had misunderstood something; this couldn't be happening, not to her parents, whom she'd sent to a different bloody hemisphere to protect them from this very thing.
"Shit, had no one told you? I'm so sorry, Hermione," Ron said, drawing her closer to him. She could feel herself shaking in his arms; she felt as though she was about to come apart at the seams. "Look, we don't know the extent of it, but they weren't in there long…it wasn't like…well, you know."
Hermione did know; it wasn't like the Manor. But that was only a small comfort in the wake of the information she just received. "My dad," she said fiercely. "If it was used on him too, he'll need to be checked out as well!"
"Of course. As soon as we get to the hospital," Ron agreed immediately. "Just let me have a word with Price and Harris, and then we can be off, alright?"
"Okay," Hermione said, stepping back from his embrace reluctantly and returning to her father's side. "We'll be off in a minute, then," she told him nervously. "But you heard Ron; Mum's going to be alright. And we can get you checked out too, while we're there."
"What the hell for?" Dad asked, clearly alarmed.
"Well you were…you know…they hurt you, didn't they?" Hermione asked tentatively, unable to form the word "torture;" it was hard enough even to think it without becoming faint.
"I feel fine," Dad said shortly, though the shudder that ran through his entire body as he spoke said otherwise.
"Please, Dad, they'll just make certain there's no lasting damage," Hermione pleaded. "They know what they're doing, these Healers. It's their job to deal with magical injuries like spell damage."
"Spell damage?" Dad asked warily as he stood on slightly shaking legs.
"Yes, Dark spells especially will often leave a trace," Hermione replied matter-of-factly, subconsciously moving one of her hands to rest on her sternum, which bore, underneath her clothing, a scar from her encounter with Antonin Dolohov three years previously. It had been quite nasty-looking in the immediate aftermath, though it had now faded some so that it was barely visible in most kinds of light.
It occurred to Hermione now that she had never told her parents the full extent of her injury, and she felt guilt stab at the back of her mind. If she hadn't been trying so hard to protect them from the ugly aspects of her world, could she have better prepared them for the truth? She shook her head firmly; now was not the time for such thoughts. Instead, she offered her dad her hand, which she was pleased to see that he willingly took, and led him closer to Ron, who was in quite a tense discussion with Harry, Bryce, Isaac, the two senior Aurors, and a stern-looking woman Hermione vaguely recognized.
"…then I suppose there's nothing left to do but debrief," the grumpier of the two seniors was saying as Hermione came within earshot.
"Sir, I'm going to take Hermione and her father to see Mrs. Granger," Ron cut in firmly, addressing his superior with a confidence Hermione had never quite seen him exhibit before.
The elder man, who Hermione guessed from his demeanor was the one called Price, frowned. "Weasley, you know we need your statement."
"And you'll get it. I'll write it out for you while I'm waiting at St. Mungo's, if you want, but I'm going with them," Ron replied stubbornly, a hint of a threat in his tone.
Price gave a heavy sigh. "For Merlin's fucking sake, Weasley, you're not even technically meant to be on this case! You can't pick and choose when you want to participate, and you can't skive off when it suits you!"
"Bullshit. You'd need somebody standing watch at the hospital anyway. Whether the wedding's happened yet or not, Hermione's my fucking wife, and I'm not leaving her!" Ron replied in what was little more than a growl.
"I'll go collect his statement as soon as I've given my own," Harry volunteered quietly, though there was nothing timid about the way he said it.
"Fine," the other senior Auror interjected shortly. "He's right, Price, we'd have sent somebody with the family to St. Mungo's regardless."
"Okay," Price said tersely. "But watch your tone with me, Weasley. I don't care who you are; I'm still your superior."
"Sorted," Ron nearly spat, and without another word, he turned his back on the others to meet Hermione and her father. "Let's go, then. There's an apparition point just outside."
"Harry apparated you here, didn't he, Dad?" Hermione asked as they left the office, ignoring the murmuring of the others in their wake.
"Is that what that's called? We're doing it again?"
"It's the fastest way to get where we're going," Ron replied matter-of-factly, interlocking his hand with Hermione's free one as they walked through the corridors of the Ministry at a rapid pace. "Fastest way to get to your wife, Mr. Granger."
"You won't get in trouble, will you?" Hermione fretted, guilt once again creeping up in the back of her mind.
"Nah," Ron answered shortly. "Price is an arse, yeah, but the rest of them understand. It's different when it's personal; the rules are a bit bendy. That reprimand was the worst I'll get."
A moment later, they'd reached the Apparition point, and Ron traded places with Hermione so that he could hold onto both of their hands. "I have been practicing side-along, a bit," he said nervously.
"You'll be fine," Hermione said reassuringly. Ron nodded, and a moment later, they had turned on the spot. When they resurfaced completely in-tact at St. Mungo's DMLE entrance, Dad looked positively faint. Hermione moved to grasp his hand again as they entered. Ron seemed to know the Healer that had come to their aid, and they were talking in low voices as the group moved through the hallway toward a waiting room.
"You are Peter and Hermione Granger, then?" the Healer addressed them abruptly when the group reached their destination. Upon Hermione's nod, he continued. "Karen Granger is in stable condition now. We're doing the tests to determine exactly which curse was used against her so that we may treat her properly, but she's not in any immediate danger. We're optimistic that she's going to be completely alright. What kind of a recovery process will be involved, we don't know yet, especially given the use of the Cruciatus Curse."
"The curse was used on my dad, too," Hermione interjected.
"Alright," the Healer, whose nametag read Ives, said calmly. "Then if you will follow me, Peter, I can check you over to make sure you're alright. It'll only be a moment or two, and then I'll have you back to your daughter."
"Go on, Dad," Hermione urged, smiling encouragingly in an effort to wipe the distrustful expression off his face. With a noncommittal nod, Dad followed Healer Ives down the hallway a bit further, and Hermione followed Ron into the empty waiting room, where they took a seat on an overly squashy sofa. Ron immediately wrapped an arm around Hermione's shoulders as she sat down and burrowed close to his side.
"Why did this happen?" she asked softly as they made themselves as comfortable as possible. Tears were pricking in the corners of her eyelids now for the first time since Harry and Dad had arrived in the Auror's Office; this was the first chance she had to truly contemplate what had happened.
"It was Lestrange. Rodolphus," Ron informed her quietly. "But I can only tell you as much since it's your immediate family. Anyway, the three women were working for him, as were a couple other blokes around our age. Goyle, too. They overpowered the man who was keeping watch at your parents' house, and since they already had an idea of where it was, they were able to get in. I reckon we'll have to place a proper Fidelius Charm on the place now whether your parents like it or not, just to be safe. We think Lestrange was operating alone, but I'm sure as hell not taking any chances."
"We ought to have done it before," Hermione said with a sniff. "I just…I thought the protective charms would be enough."
"We all did," Ron replied fiercely. "It's sure as hell not your fault, so don't talk like that."
"They were…they were hurt, Ron. Like…like I was hurt," Hermione whimpered helplessly.
"I know," Ron gulped, his expression somber. "I…when I heard…fuck, it took me back to that bloody Manor, Hermione. I mean…Merlin, it's good we got there when we did."
Hermione nodded; she could feel the tears beginning to stream down her face now. "Why did this happen?" she repeated desperately, but Ron only shook his head. There was no good reason for why the innocent had to suffer at the whims of the sick-minded and cruel, and there never would be.
A moment later, a disgruntled Dad re-entered the room, followed closely by Healer Ives. "There was no apparent lasting damage," he informed them pleasantly as Dad nearly flung himself into one of the wicker chairs nearest Ron and Hermione. "We're optimistic that the same will be true for Karen, though we won't know more until we've finished with the analytics. I'll be back to update you as soon as we've made progress."
"Thank you," Hermione said gratefully, using the hand that wasn't clenched in Ron's to wipe away the tears on her cheeks.
"We're alright, then," Ron told her comfortingly, squeezing her hand in his and rubbing her shoulders with the other. "Everything's going to be okay."
"Yes," Hermione agreed, sniffing loudly. "Yes, everything will be okay. Thank Merlin; this could have been so much worse."
"The bastards were pathetic," Ron said emphatically. "Scary as hell for a bit, yeah, but that's all they ever had going for them."
"That's all?" Dad interrupted incredulously, speaking more loudly than he had since he'd arrived in the Auror office. "It sure as hell didn't feel pathetic at the time!"
"That's not what he meant, Dad," Hermione said wearily. "He only meant that it could have gone much, much worse than it did."
"How?" Dad demanded. "We didn't get off scot-free, did we? Your mother, Hermione, is lying in a hospital bed somewhere, and we haven't got a clue what's happened to her!"
"Don't you think I know that?" Hermione snapped. "But I've spent the past several hours scared out of my mind, so we've got to focus on the good. She's alive, and no matter what kind of recovery she's got ahead, we can have a go at it together!"
"Somehow that doesn't quite ease my mind!" Dad retorted. "When we sent you to that school of yours, we had no idea-"
"This is Dark magic, Dad!" Hermione interjected. "I don't use these kinds of spells; none of us do, we use defensive spells-"
"You know how to literally wipe a man's memory, and you've done it!" Dad pointed out angrily. "That's not exactly friendly fire, Hermione-"
"I did it to protect you!" Hermione very nearly screamed, her grip now vice-like on Ron's hand. "I did it to protect you from things like this!"
"And if we'd never let you go, there wouldn't have ever been this sort of thing-"
"There could have been! Voldemort and his followers went after muggles, Dad; even if I weren't a witch…you saw, about that bridge collapse three years ago! It had nothing to do with structural integrity," Hermione retorted. "I sent you away from Britain so that you would be safe."
"And a fat load of good it did, in the end," Dad spat, and Hermione felt her heart sink beneath the weight of the guilt that felt as though it were literally filling her to the brim.
"Listen, Mr. Granger," Ron said fiercely, gripping Hermione's hand back just as hard as she was, "Hermione did the best she could, which is a hell of a lot better than the rest of us could have done. Nobody wanted this to happen, and it's nobody's fault but the bastards who did it to you! But it's over now, it's done, we've got them, and everything's going to be-"
"Do NOT tell me that everything's going to be okay! Do NOT tell me that it could have been worse!" Dad roared, standing up now and beginning to pace back and forth - or rather, stomp loudly as he shouted. "My wife, Hermione's mother, was knocked out by some bloody spell, after we'd been subjected to…" he broke off with a shudder, but then continued as though he hadn't: "And this was all because some wizards broke into our home and tried to force us into revealing information about our daughter! So don't go telling me how much worse-"
"But it could have been!" Ron shouted angrily, dropping Hermione's hand and standing up to face Dad. "You could have been tortured to within an inch of your bloody life, til you didn't know who you were anymore; fucking hell, one curse and you could have been DEAD! So excuse us for trying to find the hope in a bloody terrible situation, Mr. Granger, but we have seen so, so much worse; hell, we've lived it! Try this: for once in your fucking life, listen to your daughter, because she knows what you've gone through, probably better than you do!"
"Am I meant to find comfort in the fact that my daughter was a part of some sort of bloody war?" Dad shot back mockingly.
Ron laughed humorlessly. "A part of it? Is that all you think? Merlin, if you'd just shut up and listen for once, you'd know how fucking brave she is! Hermione is one of the strongest people I've ever known, and the fact that you refuse to see that won't stop it from being true!"
Dad sputtered for a moment before turning to face Hermione. "What does he mean by this?" he demanded. "What does he mean, you've lived it?"
"Just what it sounds," Hermione replied, brushing away her tears once again. "That's why I sent you away; I had to help Harry, and I knew it was going to be dangerous. It was people like Lestrange that we were fighting against, but…some of them were quite a bit nastier, you see."
"Quite a bit nastier?" Ron repeated incredulously. "Don't sugarcoat it, Hermione, he needs to hear it! How the hell else is he going to understand?"
Hermione shot Ron a pleading look, but he just raised his eyebrows expectantly. "I'm sure we don't need to go over the details," she said desperately. Ron's eyes softened a bit, and he returned to sit next to her on the sofa and wrapped an arm around her shoulders once again.
"There's no use keeping it from them anymore," Ron told her gently. "Not after what they've been through today; they ought to understand the truth of it!"
Hermione nodded; she knew he was right, but that didn't make the matter at hand any less difficult. "Why don't you sit down, Dad?" she said hesitantly.
He obliged, but the anger did not dissipate from his face. "What the hell is this about?" he demanded.
"I've told you that Ron and I, we needed to help Harry to get rid of Voldemort," Hermione began slowly, looking over to Ron for reassurance. He grimaced in what was meant to be an encouraging smile and squeezed her shoulders. She drew a deep breath before continuing: "And I told you, Voldemort was taking over our world. He hated muggles; he hated muggleborns, too, like myself, and he hated people like Ron as well - pureblood wizards, but sympathetic toward muggles and muggleborns. And like I've told you, we were even bigger targets because we were helping Harry. It was dangerous."
"I know," Dad said automatically, his voice thankfully much lower than it had been, the creases on his forehead becoming more pronounced. "You explained this to us last year; that's why you felt you had to send us away."
"Because if I hadn't, you could have been t-tortured or killed," Hermione replied firmly. "The Cruciatus Curse…that's the one they used on you today. When I sent you away, Voldemort had taken over our Ministry. If you had been at home, and somebody had come to use that curse on you, there wouldn't have been any Aurors to come in and stop them. It…it would have just…kept going," she finished, shaking as silent tears continued to slide from her eyes. Ron squeezed her tightly once again; she turned to face him, and was heartbroken to see that his eyes were wet as well.
"That's not to say that what happened to you was nothing," Hermione continued quickly, when she saw that Dad was about to retort, "but when we say it could have been worse…we're not lying, Dad, we've seen worse, with our own eyes! Our friend Neville…his parents were tortured into insanity. They've got permanent beds in a closed ward of this very hospital. It almost makes Harry's parents seem lucky, doesn't it, to have been killed outright? Voldemort and his followers…most of them didn't know mercy. They wouldn't…they wouldn't stop."
Taking a deep breath, Hermione shifted so that she could brush the hair from the side of her neck, thus revealing the scar left by Bellatrix Lestrange nearly a year and a half previously. Dad's eyes widened, but Hermione kept going. Now that she had started, she found it easier to trudge through her discomfort.
"I never told you and Mum just how dangerous it was," she admitted. "I didn't want you to worry. I didn't want you to try to pull me from the magical world, because it's where I belong. We…Ron and I, and so many others, too…we chose to help Harry, we have done since we were twelve years old, and that always meant we'd be in the thick of it all. And we…we didn't come out of it unscathed."
"You're just a child," Dad cut in then, speaking at last. "You're so young, Hermione, why did you have to-"
"Because it's my world!" Hermione cried desperately. "I'm a witch, Dad! I know you've never quite understood it all, but that's how it is! Why does anybody fight for anything? I wanted to protect myself, and my friends, and you, my family! We had to keep people like Voldemort, if you can even call them people, from destroying everything we hold dear! That's war, and it's real. We lost people we care about, and we were scarred ourselves." She saw Dad's eyes flicker once again to the mark on her neck as he audibly gulped.
"And where did that come from?" he asked, clearly dreading the answer.
Hermione sighed heavily, and she heard Ron's breath catch. "Bellatrix Lestrange was one of the nastier ones," she said simply.
"What does that mean?" Dad demanded, his face now incredibly pale.
"What do you think it means?" Ron shot back. Hermione could feel his body tremor with suppressed rage. "Think of the man in your sitting room today, and imagine somebody with twice the cruelty, somebody with no capacity for remorse!"
"And you fought…but what exactly…?"
"Suffice it to say I know plenty about the Cruciatus Curse," Hermione said in little more than a whisper. "I'm going to go to the loo."
"Hermione, let me-"
"I just need a bit of air. I'll be right back," Hermione said, pressing a quick kiss to Ron's cheek in the hopes of wiping the worried expression off his face. And then she crossed the room and was gone, leaving Ron and Mr. Granger to his own devices.
There was a short, uncomfortable silence, but Mr. Granger was the first to speak. "She…she was tortured?" he asked quietly, nearly disbelievingly.
Ron nodded once, not quite trusting himself to speak as terribly vivid memories of that horrible evening began to seep through the corner of his mind in which he'd tried to quarantine them during his waking hours.
"But why?" Mr. Granger asked. He looked devastated - heartbroken. Ron felt distinctly more uncomfortable.
"For information," Ron answered shortly. "Or because Bellatrix Lestrange was a sick fuck. Take your pick."
"Were you…"
"Yeah, I was there," Ron replied. "Stuck in the fucking cellar. I had to listen-" he broke off and sunk his head into his hands as the memory of Hermione's screams began to suffocate him. "I don't know how long it went on," he said at last, "but she was not in a good way when we finally got to her. She…I was scared out of my mind. I thought…I thought…"
Both men were quiet for some time, each lost in their own thoughts. Ron took several deep breaths as he attempted to recollect himself. When he finally looked up again, Mr. Granger appeared deeply disturbed.
"I - I don't know what to say," he said slowly. "I just…I didn't quite realize…"
"You don't need to say anything," Ron interrupted. "Just…you've just got to understand that what we went through, it wasn't a story. It wasn't like…like when you read a history book, and you know that back in whatever century, so-and-so was in a war with so-and-so because of this-and-that. And yeah, that's all it will be, someday, but for us…it was fucking real. It was our lives, for years and years, and…we were just kids, you know, but after something like that…it changes you. Suddenly, you're just…you're not who you were. You're not a kid anymore, you're the furthest thing from a kid, and yeah, we had to grow up far too quickly, but there's no going back from it now. We've just…we've had to move on, as best we can, and that's what Hermione's trying to do. She's not the little girl you remember her as anymore, she's something…more. She's…fuck, she's amazing, and brilliant, and brave - she's a warrior, and I just…I guess it's hard for you to see it for what it is," he finished awkwardly, gesturing noncommittally.
Mr. Granger was saved from having to give a response by Hermione's return. Her eyes were dry now, but they were very red. She looked apprehensively between them, and was clearly relieved to see that neither looked too terribly angry with the other. She returned to her seat next to Ron, and the group was quiet for some time, but once again, it was Mr. Granger who broke the silence.
"I thought…back when we sent you to Hogwarts, Hermione, I thought that maybe, we'd be giving you a better life. Away from all the terrible things that happen in our world, you know. I guess I thought that maybe…magic was supposed to fix those sorts of things, and I never realized…not until I found myself in Australia, I never really realized…" he trailed off uncertainly.
"I don't think there's a place on Earth that hasn't got the bad things," Hermione replied quietly. "There are always going to be people that are just…just psychopaths, or people that make the wrong choices, or whatever else. It's…just because magic isn't perfect doesn't mean it's something you ought to be afraid of. You never know, Dad, what's going to happen, but that doesn't mean you ought to withdraw from the world."
Mr. Granger nodded. "I…I'm sorry, Hermione. I just, I didn't understand, and I still don't. It's-it's just hard to come to terms with the fact that I probably never will."
Hermione reached and grasped her father's hand. "I just need you to try. That's all I ever needed."
"Okay," Mr. Granger said, taking a deep breath. "Okay."
"Things will be alright," Ron reassured them, wrapping his arms around Hermione again. They nodded, and the group fell into silence yet again - though this time, it was less tense than before. After about five minutes, Harry showed up; Ginny, Ron's dad, and Percy in his wake.
"You've got to write out your statement, Ron," Harry told him apologetically, handing him a roll of parchment and a self-inking quill as each of the Weasleys greeted Mr. Granger. "Is everything alright?"
"No big news," Hermione said shortly. "But they think she's going to be okay."
"Good," Harry said, reaching out to pat her shoulder as Ginny sat by her side and grabbed her hand.
"We heard what had happened while we were on our way out for the day," Dad said quietly to Ron as he began to scrawl out a quick statement of what had happened at the Grangers' -it seemed like a lifetime ago, now. "Thought we'd drop by and make sure you were alright before heading home. Molly will want to hear it straight from us."
"Tell Mum not to worry," Ron told him. "Mrs. Granger's going to recover; we just don't know what that'll entail."
"Good," Dad said. "She'll want you to come round, you know."
"Tell her we'll try to make it tomorrow," Ron replied with a small smile. "If not, we'll owl."
"Okay. We'll leave you to it, then," Dad said, gripping Ron's shoulder firmly before collecting Percy, who had been overwhelming Hermione with a long explanation of the legal ramifications of the case - which she may have been interested in, had the circumstances not been as they were - and leaving the waiting room. Harry and Ginny stayed; Ginny continued to talk quietly to Hermione, and Harry chose the armchair nearest to the sofa as he watched Ron scribbling his statement as quickly as possible.
"We're not needed again til Sunday," Harry informed Ron. "Everyone's working a bit faster, given the circumstances, and we should have most of the missing pieces to put together by then, before we send the thing off to the DMLE's legal office by Friday."
"It'll be a fantastic week, then," Ron deadpanned. "They'll put them straight in high-security cells this time, yeah?"
"Yeah," Harry confirmed. "After the shit they pulled, nobody's taking any chances. Hermione's dad alright?"
"Yeah," Ron repeated distractedly, quickly finishing up the last few sentences of his statement and handing it off to Harry. "Reckon mine's identical to yours?"
"Probably," Harry replied on a half a laugh. "Listen: Ginny and I thought we'd stay for a bit, if you want."
"Of course," Ron said, shooting a grateful grin in Harry's direction.
But their stay in the waiting room turned out to be much longer than they'd anticipated. Eventually, the minutes turned into hours, and Hermione had dozed off on Ron's shoulder, still grasping Ginny's hand. Harry was on perhaps his twentieth read-through of Ron's statement, simply for something to do, and Mr. Granger was simply gazing off into space, clearly lost in thought. Finally, Healer Ives returned, a serious expression on his face, and Ron gently shook Hermione awake.
"Mrs. Granger is still in stable condition," he began. "The curse that struck her wasn't widely known; that's what caused the delay. But we managed to determine its effects, and treated them appropriately. She suffered mainly internal injuries - we can get into the details of it later; it'll be easier once we've got the report in front of us. We're guessing the spell itself wasn't cast properly, but it most closely resembled a particularly nasty curse that was the signature of one Antonin Dolohov."
Hermione audibly gasped, and brought a hand to her ribs. "Will she be alright?" she asked breathlessly.
"Perfectly so. It would have been much worse, but it was a weakened version of the curse. She'll have to take potions for several weeks to heal her internal injuries, but she will be just fine," Healer Ives said with a tight-lipped smile. "She's actually just come to; I'm allowed to send in only the family to see her for the time being."
"That's the three of us, then," Mr. Granger said automatically. "Myself, my daughter and my...my son-in-law."
Hermione gave an audible sob; standing up, she flung herself into her father's arms, and the two clung to each other tightly, murmuring words only they could hear.
"We'll be off, then," Ginny said, leaning over to give Ron a one-armed hug. "We'll let Mum and Dad know about the developments."
"Thanks, Gin," Ron said, returning her embrace briefly. "We'll see you soon, I reckon."
Harry and Ginny each patted Hermione on the back - she still hadn't let go of her dad - and left the waiting room, passing an amused Healer Ives. "Whenever you're ready," the Healer said.
Hermione pulled back and helped her father to his feet; with her other hand, she reached for Ron, and the three of them followed Healer Ives down the hallway toward Mrs. Granger's room. They filed into it one after the other; the room was a bit bigger than average, given its place in the DMLE section of the hospital, but there was scarcely room for them to fit comfortably.
Mrs. Granger was sitting upright on the bed; she was pale, and looked very small in the oversized hospital gown, but there was a thin smile on her face. Hermione let out another sob and ran to embrace her mother; Mr. Granger followed to kiss his wife, and Ron stayed back respectfully to give them a moment for themselves.
"I really am alright," Mrs. Granger said several minutes later, once her family had retreated and allowed her some breathing room. "And it's all thanks to Ron, I understand."
"Well, I brought you here," Ron replied uncomfortably. "That's my job, but it's the Healers here that have set you right."
"Nevertheless, thank you," Mrs. Granger said sincerely. "I…I don't think I ever realized, just how dangerous it could be, and I'm grateful that your department was so quick to our rescue."
"We've got quite a bit to talk about, Mum," Hermione said quietly, looking between her parents anxiously.
"Of course we have," Mrs. Granger replied, "but it can wait. They say I'll likely be here all day tomorrow, just so they can make sure there aren't any complications. We'll find the time to have a proper chat then. I'm a bit tired and sore tonight, to be honest."
Hermione nodded, and Mr. Granger actually smiled a little. "Why don't you and Ron head back home, Hermione?" he asked pleasantly, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Come back tomorrow morning."
"Okay," Hermione replied reluctantly, leaning in and hugging her mum one more time. "I'm so happy you're okay. I love you both," she murmured, just loud enough that Ron could hear it.
"Of course. And we love you," Mrs. Granger smiled. "And Ron, come over here!"
Ron grinned as he moved to embrace his future mother-in-law lightly. "I can talk to the Healers, so that Mr. Granger can stay with you as long as he likes," he offered.
"That'd be wonderful, thank you," Mrs. Granger beamed.
"Thank you, Ron," Mr. Granger added gruffly, offering a hand. Ron shook it firmly and nodded - something had shifted between them, and he could sense Mr. Granger had given him something he hadn't quite trusted him with before. If he wasn't mistaken, it felt an awful lot like respect.
Hermione couldn't help but embrace each of her parents once more, and then, after Ron informed Healer Ives under no uncertain circumstances that Mr. Granger was not to be bothered to leave, they made their way to the fireplaces on the first floor so that they could Floo home. Upon entering their flat, Ron wordlessly crossed the room to the refrigerator; he withdrew a bag of leftover take-away and performed a quick heating charm on it. Then, they retreated to their bedroom, too tired to do much but strip off their outerwear, and crawled underneath their duvet, passing the bag of take-away between them.
"Well, that was a hell of a day," Ron observed as he stuffed his mouth full of reheated chicken alfredo.
"I imagine tomorrow will be, too," Hermione replied with a sigh. "I just…I wish this had never happened."
"There's a lot of things I wish had never happened," Ron said wisely. "But we can't change it, can we? We've just got to hope the outlook is good."
"I think it is," Hermione said, turning toward him with a wry smile. "Mum's okay. And Dad…he called you his son-in-law."
"He did, didn't he?" Ron grinned.
"What did you say to him?" Hermione asked curiously. "When I was in the loo, I mean."
"Nothing much," Ron shrugged. "I just…I think he's sort of realized, y'know, that we aren't kids anymore."
"I should have told them everything," Hermione sighed. "About the war, and what we went through…I don't know how I expected them to understand when I hadn't really explained it."
"You were trying to protect them," Ron said fairly.
"They wanted to protect me, too," Hermione replied. "But that's sort of the problem, isn't it? At some point we had to own up to the fact that bad things happen, and it's no good trying to pretend to one another that they don't, or that they aren't as bad as they really are."
Ron nodded sympathetically. "So you'll have a chat about it all tomorrow, yeah? I reckon your dad'll fill your mum in, but…it'll all be out in the open now."
"You'll come with, won't you?" Hermione asked, taking a dainty bite from his container of food, apparently disenchanted with her Caesar salad.
"If you want me there, yeah, of course," Ron replied. "And we can go to the Burrow afterward; I think we could use a home-cooked meal."
Hermione smiled as she took one last bite and threw her plastic fork into the bag. "Everything's going to be okay," she said with a great sigh of relief.
"Perfectly okay," Ron repeated, copying her actions and then vanishing the bag. "Let's try to get some sleep, yeah?"
"Okay," Hermione replied, burying herself further under the covers and reaching for Ron, who tucked her into his embrace automatically. "Love you."
"Love you, too," Ron answered, leaning down and kissing her softly on the mouth before settling into position. Hermione had been right earlier - no one ever knew what was coming, no matter which world one lived in. But if one thing was for certain, it was that no matter what hexes or jinxes life threw at them, they could have a good go at it if they leaned on one another for support.
A/N: So there's that. This chapter and the last were the climax of the fic; the next chapter will tie up most loose ends and the last will be significantly more fluffy than the rest of it has been! ;) Thank you for reading, and feel free to let me know what you think!