CHAPTER 11

Despite the fact that she was exhausted, Gwendolyn didn't sleep well. She tossed and turned the entire night, until she drifted into an uneasy slumber at around five. She was woken up abruptly at eight by a sharp knock on her door.

After a few confused seconds trying to place exactly where she was, Gwen stumbled out of bed, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. She pulled her camel-coloured coat on over her nightgown and then peeked through the peephole in her door, trying to see who was outside. She knew there was an Auror guarding her wing, but a little extra caution, she felt, wouldn't be a bad idea.

Through the distorted peephole, she was a lanky man with black hair. After contemplating for a minute, she opened the door - it was only then that she recognized him.

'You're Harry Potter,' she breathed.

Harry grinned. Gwen ran her eyes over the familiar features; lean face, messy hair, broad shoulders. He held out a hand and said, 'In the flesh. Pleased to meet you.'

She shook hands with him, still a little confused and sleepy. He seemed to notice this and instantly took charge of the situation.

'Could I come in a minute? Stratford told me you'd be here. And you needn't worry that I'm one of Cavendish's men in disguise. I already had to take Illusionary and Polyjuice tests at the entrance.'

She stood back dumbly and let him enter. As soon as he did, Harry stripped off his tweed jacket and draped it over bedstead. There was only one chair in the room so he offered it to her and perched on the side of the bed.

'Hermione might not have mentioned this to you,' he began, 'But I'm a pretty good friend of hers.'

'She didn't have to,' Gwen mumbled. 'Everyone knows that.' Her temples were aching and she wished she could have a cup of coffee. As if he read her mind, Harry dug into a satchel that she just noticed he was carrying and handed her a flask and a paper cup.

'I brought it from the Auror Wing,' he said, with a smile. 'I figured you wouldn't have had a pleasant night. Neither have I, for that matter. Did you know Hermione woke up?'

Gwen's eyes widened. 'Is she alright?'

'I don't know what to tell you. Physically, she's in a bad shape. The Healers have done what they could but we're waiting to see if any internal infection spreads. Mentally - well, she doesn't remember the day of the attack at all. She was briefed about it last night.'

Gwen took a swig of the coffee, ignoring the fact that it burnt her tongue and throat. She needed caffeine. She couldn't imagine Granger - strong, sometimes bossy Granger - lying in a hospital bed unable to remember anything. She drained her cup and then poured herself another.

'You look worried,' Harry said, deliberately.

'Of course I'm worried,' Gwen said, dully. 'Granger's in the hospital. What makes you think I'm not next?'

'So you're pretty sure it was Cavendish then?' asked Harry, watching her closely.

Gwen shrugged. 'I don't see that anybody else had it in for her, you know? The timing was a little suspect. I know she filed the petition anonymously but Cavendish had people in all the right places. He could have easily found out. And if he found out about her, he'll definitely find out about me.'

'Which is why,' said Harry, 'It makes sense for you to tell us everything that you know. This is no time to worry about keeping professional secrets. A woman's life is at-'

'For fuck's sake!' Gwen exploded. She sat forward so violently that some of her coffee slopped over the edge of the cup and stained the carpet. She hastily removed the stain with her wand and then transferred her attention back to Harry. 'Why the hell does everyone think that I'm keeping something back? I'm scared as hell here, and I'm not dumb enough to keep secrets from the Ministry!'

'I know you're not,' Harry said, calmly, 'But it could be that you're not approaching this situation with the gravity it requires.'

'Gravity?' Gwen asked, looking disbelievingly at him. 'I'm scared as hell here. You think I don't understand the gravity?'

Harry offered her a slow, sideways-smile. 'No one's denying that you're scared, Gwendolyn,' he said, quietly, 'And you've spat out a lot of information in the heat of the moment because you wanted protection. But this shouldn't be a negotiation; it should be an alliance. What's most important to us is to find out who hurt Hermione and you need to start thinking about that too - not just about saving your own skin.'

Gwen threw him a scathing look. 'That's what Stratford told you, isn't it? He thinks I'm hiding something. He asked me a million times last night. Well, I'm not.'

'Maybe you need to think about it a bit more. People often find that small details escape them during first sittings. We've had it happen before with witnesses.'

'I'm not a witness,' Gwen snapped. 'I'm just an idiot who got stuck in the wrong situation.'

Harry watched her closely for a minute and then said, 'Put on your coat. I want you to come with me.'

Sirius hadn't wanted to go in and see Hermione. He had been plagued with indecision on the matter, ever since she had woken up. He had mixed feelings in this regard: on one hand, he wanted to see that she was alright. On the other, he wasn't sure of what all he remembered. He didn't know whether he could face her until he did.

He spent the night after her attack at the hospital, reclining on one of the uncomfortable metal-framed chairs. Ginny had gone back home and after spending a few hours with his fiancee, Ron had left with Sebastian and Roy, to continue the investigation. He had thought he'd simply camp outside Hermione's private room, hanging around in case of an emergency. But around 11 the next morning, while he was trying to see if he could get a decent cup of coffee at St Mungo's, Patricia approached him and said that it would be nice if he spent some time with the patient.

Sirius felt his heart sink.

'How is she?' he asked, automatically.

Patricia looked reluctant to answer. Finally, she said, 'We carried out some tests this morning. We can't tell for certain if the infection in her intestines is spreading. There are some traces, but they could be simply incidental. We've patched up her genitals, though-' Sirius winced at this - 'and her bruises are somewhat better. We've applied lots of ointment to them.'

Sirius wasn't sure how to respond to this statement.

'She's lonely, though,' Patricia continued, looking him straight in the eye. 'It's to be expected. And confused and desperately in need of some human company. We won't be attending to her again until the evening, unless there's a serious problem. It would be nice if you could spend some time with her.'

She seemed to understand that Sirius was reluctant to spend time with the patient and it was obvious that she despised him for it. Sirius couldn't blame her; there was no way she could understand. But he also knew there was no point delaying this indefinitely, so he said, 'Shall I go now?'

When he entered Hermione's room, he was prepared to see her at worst, which was why it wasn't much of a shock. She had been changed into a fresh lime-green gown and had a revolting mustard paste dabbed on the worst of her bruises, on her arms, legs and face. Her thick, unruly mass of hair, which had been rinsed clean of blood, was tied neatly behind. She couldn't sit up because of the wounds on her torso, though, and was lying down and staring at the ceiling. When she heard the door open, she stole a sideways glance at him and then a hint of a smile played on the edges of her mouth.

'Sirius,' she whispered.

He entered the room and shut the door firmly behind him. He didn't want anyone overhearing this conversation.

'Hermione,' he said, quietly, 'How are you feeling?'

She looked uncertain. 'Like crap,' she murmured, finally.

Sirius chuckled weakly and then sat down on the chair beside her bed, where he was pretty sure Ron had been sitting a while back. Hermione continued to stare balefully at him and he felt his heart thud in his chest. Finally, he said, 'Did they tell you what happened?'

She took a deep breath. 'What they know. Sirius - I can't remember -'

'Sh,' he said, softly. 'I know. They told me. It's alright, Hermione. Don't worry about that now. We'll work on your memory presently. Right now, just focus on getting better.'

Hermione sighed and then winced. Something in that movement seemed to hurt her. 'So many tests,' she mumbled. 'They said they need to make sure there's no infection in my intestines. It hurts so bad I can't imagine there's anything else.'

Sirius' expression softened and he leaned forward. 'Would it hurt you terribly if I held your hand?' he asked.

'Just touch it.'

He obliged and they sat in silence for a while. Then, Hermione said, 'Ron was here earlier.'

'I know.'

'He's feeling terrible about this. I don't know how to tell him it isn't his fault.'

'He knows it isn't, Hermione.'

Her gaze met his. 'I was going to tell him sometime soon,' she murmured, and traces of tears appeared at the corner of her eyes. 'About us, I mean. I don't know how to tell him now. I know delaying this makes you angry, Sirius, but-'

'Sh,' he said, again and increased the pressure on her hand very slightly. 'I don't want you to worry about any of that now. The Healers insist that you shouldn't put any stress on yourself whatsoever. Don't worry about everything else, Herms. You just focus on getting healthy again, for now.'

She offered him a week smile, which he returned. Then she said, 'Did you come for the trial?'

'Yes. You were brilliant.'

'I don't remember it at all.'

'It'll come back to you, Hermione. The Healers don't think your amnesia is permanent.'

She was silent for a moment. Then, she said, 'That's why I'm here, isn't it?'

'Here?'

'In this hospital bed. Because of the trial. Because of Cavendish.'

Sirius watched her closely. 'Do you think Cavendish did this to you, Hermione?'

She looked like she wanted to shrug but then thought better of it. 'Who else?' she murmured. 'Who else would rape me and torture me and leave me to die?'

Sirius looked shocked. 'Is that what the Healers told you?'

'Not so brutally. They used a lot of polite words. But that's what happened to me, isn't it?'

Sirius paused and then said, 'Yes. Yes it is.'

They lapsed into silence for a while and then he asked her something which had been worrying him for a while. 'Did they tell you about - about the baby?'

Fresh tears spilled down Hermione's face and she bit her lip. Sirius looked slightly alarmed.

'Yes,' she murmured. 'They told me. It's - it's his. Whoever did this to me.'

'You're sure-'

'It isn't you, Sirius. Or Ron. They say I conceived right before coming to the hospital.'

Sirius tried not to let the relief show too plainly on his face but he was sure she noticed it. She looked like she was about to smile and he suddenly realized that there were still traces of the old Hermione in this broken-down rape victim.

'Have you decided what you want to do about it?' he asked, gently.

She looked scornful. 'What do you think, Sirius? I don't want this child - I don't want any child. But the Healers say I'll have to wait for a bit before I get an abortion. My body won't be able to handle it in this stage. Whenever I'm better, I want this kid out of me.'

'Where are you taking me?' Gwendolyn asked, uncertainly.

Harry didn't reply. After she had dressed, he had brusquely led her out of the protected chambers, dismissing any objections the Aurors made. They had gone to an entirely different wing of the Ministry and then stepped into a long narrow corridor, at the end of which was a single door. Trying to get her bearings, Gwen surmised that they were actually heading out of the Ministry block. When Harry opened the door, she was proved right. Bright sunshine poured in and she found herself facing a little courtyard with barb-wire fencing and the tingling sensation of thousands of protective spells, that ensured that no one could enter to exit it.

'Muggles can't see it,' said Harry, grimly. Gwen stared. The courtyard was heaped with what looked like scrap metal, twisted lamp posts and broken-down cars.

'What is this place?'

'It's where the evidence from different accident scenes are brought. They're stored here for the Auror Department to study before they have to present their analysis in court. That-' he pointed to a dilapidated little car - 'was Hermione's.'

Gwen groaned. The car was crushed in at front, its headlights smashes and splintered. Harry gripped her by the forearm and took her up to the vehicle. Casting a spell on his hand to ensure he wouldn't leave fingerprints, he pulled the door open.

Gwen almost screamed. The driver's seat of the car, originally a pale beige in color, was a bloody mess. There was a splintered tooth on the dashboard. The blood had splashed on the felt lining of the car as well and there were bloody fingerprints on the gear.

'Oh god,' she moaned.

Harry nodded. His mouth was set in a grim line. 'I know you've heard the details,' he said, 'But this is what was done to Hermione. This is what she went through. Someone raped and brutally tortured her. So this isn't just about you saving your back; it's about getting justice for a girl who did nothing except the right things. Do you understand?'

Author's Note: And I'm back! Thanks to everyone who reviewed, very encouraging as always.

Some of you left a note about the way I punctuate my quotations, which I admit isn't strictly correct. I don't really have any defense for this except that the first magazine I worked for followed this style sheet and so it stuck. That's probably also why I use a lot of British spellings, although the damn auto correct changes most of those for me.