That image stuck with me for a long time after. Almost every night in my dreams I would seem him dead, or dying. I would see him covered in blood, lying lifeless on the ground. I used to have nightmares occasionally. But once you see something first hand, nightmares become so much more terrifying.
In that moment, the realization of all that could happen crashed into me like a boulder.
Our childhood was drawing to an end.
"So, how long do you suppose you two'll keep this up?" asked Harry as Ron deliberately changed direction upon seeing Hermione by the fire.
Hermione sighed. "I don't know," she said truthfully. It had been almost three months since the beginning of her and Ron's fight.
"You could try talking to him," Harry said hesitantly.
It was a mark of just how much she missed her other best friend that she didn't immediately glare at Harry for this suggestion.
"He should be the one to talk to me first," Hermione responded, but with less fervour than usual.
Harry seemed to pick up on this change and continued eagerly. "You know how stubborn he is, Hermione. I'm willing to bet he'll come grovelling at your feet if you just give him the chance."
Hermione snorted. "That'd be a sight."
"His birthday's coming up...why not talk to him then?" Harry suggested, once again in that hesitant tone.
Hermione exhaled. "We'll see, okay," she said. "Are you done pestering me, now?"
"Almost..."
Hermione looked up from her homework with one eyebrow raised. "What?" she asked bluntly.
"What did you get for number four?"
"Harry."
In hindsight, she supposed it was a bit ironic. It had been only a mere suggestion from Harry to reconcile with Ron on his birthday. But she never dreamed it would have happened like this.
Nevertheless, here she sat exactly one week later with guilt making her insides squirm uncomfortably as she looked upon Ron's sleeping form.
He could have died.
These were the words that kept replaying in her head over and over again like some sort of mantra.
The moment Harry had rushed into the common room to tell her what happened, she felt as if several bricks had dropped in her stomach. In the blink of an eye, the past three months were forgotten. Even now as she sat there, she could barely remember what they'd been fighting about to begin with. It was all a haze in comparison.
All she could see, all she could think about, all she could do was wait for the moment when he'd open his eyes. She would tell him she was sorry. That she'd missed him terribly. She'd hug him like her life depended on it.
Because he was her best friend. And nothing in the world could ever change that.
Hermione quickly wiped away a tear that had escaped her eye, but Harry, who was sitting on Ron's other side, pretended not to notice.
"Where's Ginny?" Hermione asked.
"She went to go owl Fred and George. They're in Hogsmeade," Harry replied quietly.
After another moment of tense silence, Harry spoke up again. "He'll be okay, Hermione."
She let out a somewhat shaky sigh. "I know. It's just...I keep wondering...what if—"
"What if nothing," Harry said seriously. "What's done is done. This is what happened and there's no point contemplating otherwise."
"That's easier said than done," she whispered.
"I know that. But you shouldn't be torturing yourself over this."
"The same way you shouldn't be torturing yourself over Sirius?" she asked suddenly, looking up at him.
Harry was taken aback for a moment, but quickly recovered. "This is completely different. You did nothing wrong."
"Neither did you," she retorted.
"Look, can we not talk about this right now?" Harry said, clearly getting irritated.
"Fine, sorry."
She knew the pain of Sirius's death was still quite fresh for him, so she dropped the subject for now.
Suddenly the doors to the hospital wing burst open as Mr. and Mrs. Weasley rushed in followed by Ginny.
"Oh, Ronnie!" Mrs. Weasley cried as she took in the sight of her youngest son in the hospital bed.
Mr. Weasley looked as if he had gone into somewhat of a shock as he followed his wife to Ron's bedside.
"Who would want to hurt my little boy?" Mrs. Weasley sniffed as she gently stroked Ron's hair.
"Harry, what's happened? Dumbledore owled us saying Ron had been in accident. He said something about him being poisoned," Mr. Weasley said, the shock on his face being transferred into his words.
Harry was just about to open his mouth to respond when Dumbledore, himself, walked in through the hospital doors.
"Arthur, Molly, why don't you join me in my office so we can discuss the matter in more detail. You no doubt have many questions," the Headmaster said solemnly.
Mrs. Weasley looked appalled at the idea of leaving her son's side.
"Come on, Molly. Ron's in good hands," Mr. Weasley said, sensing his wife's ambivalence.
With much trepidation, Mrs. Weasley finally followed her husband out of the room, leaving Harry, Hermione, and Ginny to stare at Ron's sleeping form.
"Puts things into perspective, doesn't it?" Ginny stated to no one in particular, her voice sounding scratchy as a result of what Hermione presumed were tears.
"He's going to be fine," Harry said again, as if to reassure himself more than anyone else.
"Merlin, I hope so..." Ginny said. "You know, I didn't even buy the oaf a birthday present this year. And now he's gone and gotten himself poisoned...Makes me feel all the more guilty."
Hermione gave Ginny a weak smile. She and Ron hadn't been on the best of terms these past couple of months either, so she could empathize with what the girl was feeling.
As the shock slowly began to wear off throughout the day, Hermione was better able to compose herself. Though she still felt guilty, this feeling was greatly downplayed by the happiness and relief she felt over Ron's improving condition.
He would wake up every now and then, but quickly doze off thereafter. But it was enough to settle everyone's restlessness.
At one point in the day, during their umpteenth discussion of the identity of the poisoner, Ron awoke once more. This time, however, it appeared as if he were attempting to speak.
"What is it, Ron?" Fred urged him.
They all fell silent, watching him anxiously.
"Er-my-knee," croaked Ron. He then muttered incomprehensively for a moment before he merely starting snoring again.
Hermione could feel four pairs of eyes on her, but she refused to look into any of them. Most especially, Ginny's, whom even from a side glance appeared to be dancing with amusement.
Why had Ron uttered her name? Why hers out of everyone here? Maybe because she was sitting nearest to him. Yes, that was probably it.
But as she quickly looked over at Ginny once more, she knew the girl thought otherwise.
Ron remained in the hospital wing for the rest of the week. But much to everyone's delight, he was now nearly fully functioning and back to normal. In fact, if it weren't for Madam Pomfrey's stranglehold on him, he would have surely snuck out of the hospital wing to watch the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff.
"You should probably go see him before the match," Hermione suggested to Harry at breakfast. "You know, so he doesn't melt into a pool of self-pity."
"You know he will anyway," Harry replied, taking in a forkful of eggs. "You should come too."
"Why?" Hermione asked, narrowing her eyes at him.
Harry gulped down his eggs before answering. "Cause I'm sure he'd much rather see you than me," he said, smirking.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing," Harry said, much too innocently for her taste.
Hermione continued to stare at him for a moment before sighing irritably. "Well, that's too bad because I'm supposed to meet up with Ginny beforehand." she said, getting up from her seat abruptly. "I'll see you at the game. Try and catch the Snitch."
She could hear Harry chuckling behind her as she walked away, but refused to acknowledge how adorable it sounded.
"What's got you all miffed?" Ginny asked as Hermione walked up to her in the entrance hall.
"More like a 'who'," Hermione stated.
"Who's got you all miffed?" Ginny amended.
"Your brother's stupid friend, that's who."
"Hmm...well, you can't be angry at yourself, so that leaves..." Ginny said in mock thought. "What's Potter done this time?"
Hermione sighed. "It's nothing. You'll probably just agree with him, anyway," she said rolling her eyes.
"Ooh, now I'm interested. Do share," Ginny said as they began walking toward the Quidditch pitch.
Hermione grumbled loudly before continuing. "It's this whole Ron thing. Ever since that first day in the hospital wing, everyone seems to be under the impression that he's... I don't know, in love with me or something. And now none of you will let it go!"
Realization seemed to dawn on Ginny's face. "I didn't realize Harry was taking the mickey out of you for it, too," she laughed.
"It's not funny," Hermione said, turning to look at the girl with a frown.
Ginny groaned. "Come on, Hermione, we're only joking!"
"No you're not, that's the problem!" she retorted. "I think you lot are seriously under the impression that Ron fancies me. And...well...he doesn't."
"But how can you be sure?"
"Because...because I just am," Hermione said, throwing her hands up into the air.
"Hermione, look," Ginny said, stopping along the path to grab the girl's shoulders. "I've come to the conclusion that I'm no longer going to make anymore claims about you fancying Ron. Whether or not you harbour some deep secret feelings for him, I can see that it annoys the hell out of you. So I'm going to stop. However, I really do believe that he feels something for you, Hermione. And well...if he does...you shouldn't be embarrassed about that. It's not like it's your fault, after all."
"Well, fine, but how come nobody's bothering him about it?"
Ginny looked at Hermione as if she had grown another head. "Have you met Fred and George?"
Hermione let out a snort of amusement. "Unfortunately. But, yes, I see your point," she added reluctantly.
"As you should," Ginny said, as they entered the locker rooms. "So what did Harry say to get you so riled up, anyway?"
"Oh, it's not that big of a deal. I suggested that he go visit Ron before the match since we all know how depressed he is about missing it. And then Harry suggested I come too since Ron would much rather see me than him," Hermione said. "It wouldn't have been so bad if he didn't give me that stupid smirk of his."
Ginny let out a loud laugh. "I'm sorry, Hermione, but...how could anyone possibly get angry at that adorable smirk?"
Hermione's cheeks instantly heated up, and she thanked the heavens above that they were already red from the cold wind.
"Come on, you have to admit it, though. I don't care if you fancy him or not, all you need is eyes to see it," Ginny said, her voice still laced with amusement.
Hermione was saved the trouble of responding as Demelza entered through the locker room doors.
Hanging her cloak up, she turned to face the two girls with a smile. "Hey, Ginny, Hermione."
"Oh perfect, a second opinion!" Ginny said eagerly.
Demelza raised an eyebrow at the redhead, while Hermione internally groaned, hoping for someone else to come bursting through the doors so she could make a sneaky escape.
"Do you, or do you not think Harry has an adorable smirk?" Ginny asked the girl.
"My God, Ginny, can you let the girl breathe first?" Hermione said, rolling her eyes.
Demelza gave a sly grin in response. "I don't think we should be conversing about our Captain in such a manner, now, should we?"
"I'll take that as a yes," Ginny said confidently, throwing an 'I-told-you-so' look to Hermione.
"Well, to be fair, I don't know if I can distinctly remember what his smirks look like, but I think we can all safely agree that he's got a pretty amazing smile," Demelza added.
"If only he used it more often on the Quidditch pitch," Ginny snorted to which Demelza nodded thoughtfully in agreement.
Just then the door to the locker rooms opened again as three more of their teammates entered. Hermione saw Demelza cover her mouth to hide her laughter as Harry walked in behind them all.
"Good luck, you two," Hermione said to the girls, shaking her head and smiling slightly despite herself.
"Come on, you have to admit it's amazing, Hermione!" Ginny called across the room loudly as Harry greeted Hermione, smiling.
Hermione turned around to throw them an exasperated look. Both of the girls were in silent fits of laughter that only intensified as Harry walked passed them with a very confused look on his face.
Hermione never loved Quidditch. In fact, more often than not, she found the sport quite exhausting to watch. She could barely ever keep up with who had the Quaffle at any given time. And she wouldn't be able to spot the Snitch if her life depended on it. Usually the only thing her eyes could follow were the Bludgers. Which was unfortunate considering how much she hated them.
Couldn't they have picked a softer ball to unhinge players off their brooms? Oh no, never. That would just take the fun and excitement out of everything, wouldn't it?
"What's the score, Neville?" Hermione asked, having zoned out for a good ten minutes.
"Seventy-forty to Hufflepuff," he replied resignedly. "McLaggen's really stirring up a riot, isn't he? It looks like Harry's getting pretty angry..."
Hermione looked up to spot Harry animatedly shouting at McLaggen near the goal posts. "Well, I can't really blame him. Just looking at McLaggen irks me," she said, with Neville nodding in wholehearted agreement.
"What in the world's he doing now?" Parvati exclaimed from the row behind them.
They all watched as McLaggen took hold of one of the Beater's bats and appeared to be demonstrating to Peakes how to hit a Bludger toward an oncoming chaser.
"Oh, Harry's goin' to have a fit," Seamus said, a slight chuckle in his voice.
Sure enough, Harry pelted toward McLaggen with a frightening speed that left Hermione at the edge of her seat. And just as Harry reached him, McLaggen took a ferocious swipe at the oncoming Bludger.
Hermione's eyes followed the ball as if in slow motion as it met Harry's skull with a resounding crack that seemed to echo throughout the entire stadium.
Her breath caught instantly in her throat. Desperately trying to block out the screams from the crowd around her, she frantically searched for her wand as she watched Harry's falling body speed much too quickly to the ground below him.
I need to slow him down! I need to save him! I have to save him!
Throwing her cloak off in maddened frustration, she finally grasped her wand, aiming it directly at Harry's body.
But to her immense relief, the two Gryffindor beaters had caught Harry just as he was about to hit the ground.
Her heart was now pounding uncomfortably fast in her chest as she tore through the stands to get to the Quidditch pitch. A crowd was already forming around Harry when she reached, and she fought desperately to make her way to him.
"Please!" she shouted, her voice filling with emotion. "Please, I need to get through!"
But nobody could possibly hear her over all the noise. There were too many people surrounding her, stubbornly blocking her path. All she wanted to do was see him. To catch a glimpse of him. To know that he was okay.
Frustrated tears were now threatening to spill from her eyes as she continued to fight through the crowd. But at last, she reached him.
She felt her entire body go limp as she took in Harry's appearance.
He lay sprawled across the ground with his head lolling to the side, almost completely covered in blood.
Her legs seemed to give in underneath her as she fell to her knees beside him. He looked completely and utterly lifeless. And it terrified her.
"I need everyone to step away from the boy!" a voice commanded urgently.
Hermione looked up to see Madam Pomfrey conjure a stretcher out of thin air. She then pointed her wand at Harry and levitated him onto it.
There was a large pool of blood left on the ground where Harry had been moments before and it caused Hermione's stomach to clench in discomfort.
"Will he be okay?" said a shaky voice beside her.
Hermione turned to see Ginny looking almost as bad as she felt.
"It looks like a simple concussion. Nothing I haven't seen before. I'll just have to run some tests to see if there will be any lasting damage."
"What?" Hermione said, breathlessly.
"Lasting damage?" Ginny replied with slight fury. "What sort of lasting damage?"
"There is a very small chance of that, but one can never be sure. Now if you'll all please excuse me. I have to get Potter to the hospital wing immediately before he loses any more blood," Madam Pomfrey stated, sternly.
"Oh God..." Hermione whispered to herself as she watched Madam Pomfrey rush away.
Before following after her, Hermione went back to retrieve Harry's broom and robes which had been removed when he was placed on the stretcher.
"McLaggen!" Ginny said fiercely from behind her. Hermione turned to see a feral look in the girl's eyes.
The crowd had somehow made a direct clearing to reveal McLaggen who had been lingering toward the back the whole time. The entire Gryffindor Quidditch team now stood behind Ginny as they made their way toward the guilty looking boy, wands raised at the ready.
But Hermione didn't wait to see what fate he would receive. All she cared about right now was Harry. So, she quickly turned on her heel and ran toward the castle, his belongings safely tucked away beneath her arms.
Running down the corridors in full speed, she finally reached the hospital wing struggling to catch her breath.
She opened the doors and rushed inside, searching the room for Harry and spotting him on a bed next to Ron's.
"Miss Granger, I'm going to have to ask you to step outside until I'm finished," the nurse said as soon as she saw her.
"But—!"
"No 'buts'. Out, now," she said, pointing at the door. "I'll come get you as soon as I'm done."
Hermione sighed in frustration but relented, nonetheless.
Outside the hospital wing, she sat on the cold stone floor, waiting.
All she could see over and over was Harry's lifeless body covered in blood. No one could possibly understand how much that image had terrified her, how much it had shaken her so badly.
It was the image of her scariest nightmares. The image of her darkest, most petrifying thoughts. And she never wanted to see it again.
Ever.
But as more tears spilled from her eyes, she realized with an agonizing pain, that she very well could see it again. That Harry could die...
In an instant, everything suddenly became so much more real. In all the past months of research and preparation, never once did she truly stop to think of Harry's fate. She had always just believed that he would be okay. That they would all be okay. That they would defeat Voldemort. That they would live happily ever after.
But this wasn't a fairytale. This was life.
And they had no guarantee.
Taking a deep shuddering breath in, she leaned her head against the wall behind her and closed her eyes.
She'd never felt so alone in all her life. There was nobody she could talk to about her fears. Nobody but the two boys currently lying in the hospital beds inside. One unconscious. One asleep.
Both barely escaping death's reach.
Hermione looked down at Harry's robes which she was still clutching tightly in her hands. She brought them hesitantly up to her nose and took in a long deep breath. They smelled faintly of him.
She breathed the fabric in again and it seemed to calm her nerves somehow. Something about his scent always made her feel safe and relaxed. Like she was home.
"Miss Granger," Madam Pomfrey said, popping her head out of the door a few moments later. "You may come and see him now."
Hermione quickly stood up and made her way inside to Harry's bed.
His head was wrapped in white bandages and all traces of blood were gone.
"So?" she asked. "Will there be any lasting damage?"
"It doesn't appear so, but we won't know for certain until he wakes up," Madam Pomfrey replied.
Hermione was not fully contented by this answer. "When will that be?"
"Sometime later on today, or tomorrow."
Hermione nodded solemnly, dropping herself unceremoniously onto the seat next to his bed.
"I'll leave you alone, then," the woman said gently as she turned and headed for her office. But she paused before reaching the door. "He'll be okay, Miss Granger. They both will."
"You don't know that," Hermione whispered to herself, so only she could hear.
She let her eyes slowly take in his unconscious form. Despite everything, he truly looked at peace for the first time in a long time. The permanent worry lines that seemed to be etched into his forehead were gone. He looked young again. He looked sixteen again.
Her hand accidentally brushed against his as she moved to wipe a tear that had escaped her eye.
She remembered holding his hand a couple of times in the past. In the moments when she was so afraid that she had latched onto the only person that made her feel safe.
His touch always calmed her. Just like his scent. Just like everything about him.
Carefully, she took his limp hand in hers and gently rubbed it with her thumb. She'd never quite noticed how thin his fingers were, or how bony his wrist was. But his hand was larger than hers and more rough.
She laced her fingers between his and closed her eyes. She had always found the idea of certain people's hands fitting together perfectly quite a foolish one. But in that moment, she couldn't help but wonder at how good her hand felt in his.
Several minutes passed like this until she finally let go reluctantly and took to simply staring at him again, and waiting. For what, she didn't know. He wouldn't wake for many more hours. And yet, she continued to wait.
"What the bloody hell happened to him?" said an alarmed voice to her right, shaking her out of her thoughts.
She looked up at Ron who had awoken from his slumber. "McLaggen," Hermione replied listlessly. "He hit Harry in the head with a Bludger."
"WHAT?"
"Not on purpose," Hermione amended. "He was just being thick as usual. He stole one of the beater's bats and well..."
"I'll kill him," Ron stated simply, half getting out of bed.
"You'll do nothing of the sort," Madam Pomfrey said, appearing out of nowhere with a potion for Ron. She pushed him back onto his bed, receiving a very disgruntled look from the red head.
"I'm pretty sure the rest of the team is taking care of him now as we speak, anyway," Hermione assured him.
"Good," he said, but still not sounding fully appeased.
"Hermione?" Ron asked after Madam Pomfrey had left them alone again.
"Hmm?" she replied, not taking her eyes of Harry.
"Are you okay?" he asked uncertainly.
She paused before answering, knowing that there was no point lying. "No, Ron...I'm not."
"Well...erm...do you want to...to talk about it or something?" Ron asked, looking slightly uncomfortable.
Hermione had to smile. "It's okay Ron, we don't have to talk."
"No, Hermione, tell me," he said, more strength behind his words this time. "Just talk and I'll listen."
She exhaled loudly, not even knowing what to say. Hadn't she just moments before been wishing that she had someone to talk to?
"I suppose...you're really the only person I can talk to about this..." Hermione started.
"Go on," Ron urged.
"It's nothing...it's just...well I mean, it's not even that big of a deal..."
"I'm not really understanding, Hermione..." Ron said hesitantly.
"That's because I'm not really making much sense," Hermione admitted.
"Listen, if you don't want to tell me because we've been...well...ignoring each other for three months, then—"
"No, no, it's not that," Hermione said, waving him off.
"What, then?"
"You didn't see him, Ron!" she exclaimed suddenly. "After he got hit...He was lying on the ground, looking like...like...like he was dead or something."
"There was blood everywhere," she continued, her eyes becoming watery. "And I came here and I thought to myself...my two best friends are lying in hospital beds and I'm all alone! Both of you, you could have died. And where would that leave me? Where would that leave me, Ron?"
Hermione felt slightly ashamed of herself for crying in front of him, but she just couldn't help it.
She saw Ron shift slightly in his bed, as if he wanted to reach out and comfort her but didn't quite know how.
"But we're okay, Hermione, we both are," Ron said quietly.
She sniffled loudly, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "Yes, but for how long? None of us are safe," she said. Then dropping her voice to a whisper, "Not you, not me, and especially not Harry."
Ron stared at her for a moment, before letting his eyes drop to the ground as if in defeat. "I wish there was something I could say, Hermione."
"You don't have to say anything, you just have to listen."
"Good, cause I'm rubbish at giving advice," Ron said.
"I know," she said, giving him a watery smile.
"Harry would know what to say," Ron said quietly a moment later, turning his head to stare off into space. "He's always been better at the...talking stuff."
"Talking stuff?" Hermione said, with amusement.
"See? Perfect example right there."
"Well, you're pretty good at the 'humour stuff'," Hermione confessed.
"You think I'm funny?" Ron asked, surprised.
"You have your moments, yes."
"Well, I think you're brilliant," Ron blurted out.
He instantly became a bright shade of red as he turned his head away from her, clearing his throat awkwardly.
Hermione pretended not to take notice, and muttered a quick 'thanks' as she looked everywhere but at him.
She felt slightly uncomfortable all of a sudden, especially since a part of her was seriously beginning to believe Ginny's suspicions about Ron could be true...
"And then we all cornered him in the locker room and each took turns casting our own separate and quite unique jinxes, if I do say so myself. I'm actually surprised he hasn't been in here yet. I suppose he still hasn't gotten out of his leg-locker..."
Hermione listened to Ginny's account, trying her best to feign amusement. They were both sitting by Harry's bedside as Ginny explained to her and Ron the torture they had put McLaggen under.
"At least it'll teach him not to be such a gormless wanker," Ginny said, causing Madam Pomfrey to throw her a look of disapproval as she walked by.
"Harry gave us a right scare though, didn't he?" Ginny said, her tone softer now as she looked upon the boy in question.
Hermione watched as Ginny carefully moved a lock of his black hair away from the bandages around his head, letting her hand linger there for a moment. She looked away, not very keen on observing the scene before her.
"Miss Granger, you've been here all day. Don't you think you should go down to the Great Hall and get something to eat?" said Madam Pomfrey with concern.
"But...but what if he wakes up?" she replied, sounding somewhat foolish.
"Then he'll be here waiting for you when you return," the nurse said resolutely.
Hermione sighed. "Fine," she conceded quietly, her stomach choosing that exact moment to start rumbling.
"Oh, and Miss Weasley?" Madam Pomfrey called.
"Yes?"
"Perhaps a change in clothes is in order?"
Ginny looked down at her dirty Quidditch robes that she had still not changed out of since the match that morning. "Nothing gets past you ma'am, does it?"
"Of course not, dear," the woman smiled.
Hermione sat alone at the Gryffindor table for dinner, eating as quickly as she could so she could return to the hospital wing.
"You're eating awfully fast," said a dreamy voice behind her.
She turned to see Luna take a seat beside her on the bench. "Yes, well, Harry's going to be waking up any moment now."
She realized this explanation made very little sense, but Luna nodded her head thoughtfully nonetheless.
"That's a very good reason," Luna said, simply.
"Thank you..." Hermione replied, uncertainly. Taking in her last gulp of pumpkin juice, she stood up abruptly and offered her farewell to the girl. "Sorry, Luna, but I have to go now."
"I understand," Luna said distantly as if she wasn't quite finished with her thought.
"Well...bye," Hermione said, starting to walk away.
"It's always hard to watch the one you love get hurt."
Hermione stopped in her tracks.
"Sorry?" she asked, turning around.
"There's no need to apologize," Luna said vaguely, turning her head slightly to the side.
And with that, she walked away.
Hermione looked around her, but no one seemed to have heard the conversation that just took place.
If you could even call that a conversation...
Shaking her head slightly, she continued her way down the hall, deciding she would ponder Luna's words another time.
Once she was outside the hospital wing, she could hear two very distinct voices emanating from somewhere inside.
Smiling wide, she opened the doors and rushed in.
"Harry!" she exclaimed, not quite able to contain her excitement. It seemed like years, not hours since they'd last talked.
He smiled back at her, filling her up with a warmth that seemed to instantly dissolve all her worries and fears.
"How are you feeling?" she said, taking a seat next to his bed.
"Well besides the fact that I want to murder McLaggen and I have a pounding headache...just peachy."
Hermione could only smile in reply. In fact, all she could do since she entered the hospital wing was smile.
Stop smiling, you idiot.
Hermione cleared her throat. "Just promise me you'll find a different replacement next time," she demanded.
"Hermione, I'd rather let you play than have McLaggen anywhere near the team again," Harry assured her.
Ron snorted loudly from the bed next to him. "I'd rather forfeit..." he said quietly.
He was quickly met with a nice pillow to the face.
Harry instantly burst out into laughter, only to be joined in seconds later by Hermione and Ron.
"Strange lot, you are..." Madam Pomfrey said, walking past them with a bewildered expression.
A/N: Hi everyone! This didn't take TOO long to post, I hope? I apologize as always for the long wait, and I thank you as always for reading! And a very special thanks to those of you who always review and leave me some really great feedback. I honestly appreciate it so much! I know that many of you despise the 6th book so I hope it will come as a great consolation to you all that I will most likely only have one more chapter in this year and then we'll be moving on! Yay! As for the 7th book, I plan on spending even less time on that than the 6th. I'm really only going to cover the major details. Anyway, thank you all again very much. I hope you enjoy this chapter!