Chapter 26: From the ashes
When Fred finally arrived at the doors to the dungeons the hallways were already full of people. Hordes of students in green and yellow colours hurried after their prefects upstairs in something that looked very much like an evacuation. And just as Fred rushed around another corner he could see the reason why. From the door that led to the part of the dungeons, they had used as a prison, licked dangerous red flames and Fred instantly knew what must have happened.
"Hermione!" he cried and tried to rush into the rooms, but his body was caught be a strong binding spell that held him back. A moment later the door in front of him was sealed with a blue barrier, after being banged close.
"You can't go inside," the voice of professor Flitwick squeaked behind him, as he cast layer after layer of protective runes on the door. "The room is full of fiendfire. You'd be dead after two meters."
"No," Fred sobbed and tried to fight his restrains, but it was of no use. Whatever Flitwick had cast on him didn't budge. "Please professor," he begged but he knew it was too late. The door in front of him glowed in blue light, before it simply disappeared with a hiss of extinguished flames and a wall of stone appeared in its place. "No, please no," he murmured in an unbelieving voice as tears streamed down his face. His chest hurt and felt so tight, like it was about to squish his heart until it wouldn't be able to beat at all. At the same time he just felt empty. Where an hour ago had still been Hermione's presence inside of him, now was only emptiness. And it hurt, because he knew that the same spot would stay empty forever. It was her spot in his heart and nobody would be able, to fill it ever again.
That was the moment when the others burst behind him into the corridor. In an instant George was on his knees next to him on the floor and held his shoulders. "Let him go, professor," he said in a calm voice, even though the tears were streaming down his face, too. His brother didn't need to ask questions, he knew everything he needed to know through the bond. Professor Flitwick must have complied to George's wishes, because a moment later Fred was free and his body sagged forward into the arms of his brother.
"She can't be dead," he murmured into his shoulder and looked at his brother for confirmation. But George looked back at him with sad eyes.
"Hermione is a tough witch," Harry murmured behind them. "If anybody could survive an encounter with the bloody snake and live, it's her. Maybe she found a way out." The voice of their friend sounded so sure and strong that he, too almost believed it. Fred was just about to reply something, as Minerva's patronus burst next to him through the wall.
"Come up to the infirmary at once," it commanded in a stern voice. "Hermione is upstairs, but you should see her at once." With that the cat dissolved into fog and disappeared. For a moment nobody moved and Fred and George just stared at each other with wide eyes.
"What are you waiting for? Move!" rang Harry's urgent voice behind them and is was enough to snap them from their stupor. George hastily rose to his feet and pulled Fred up with him. He nodded gratefully towards his brother and gripped his hand, while his heart fluttered nervously in his chest. Hermione was in the infirmary? Was she still alive? How did she get out? Fred didn't know but he had to find out immediately. And so he followed his twin who ran ahead of him like his life depended on it. Hermione needed them. And Fred would be damned, if he wouldn't be there for her.
Hermione felt horrible. Her body was numb and itchy at the same time and her head was filled with a constant pounding and buzzing that made it impossible to hear anything else. Her mouth felt dry and tasted, like something had died on her tongue which lay heavy in her mouth. God, was this how it felt to be dead? Wasn't it supposed to be pleasant and peaceful and not just painful and loud? Maybe she wasn't dead after all, not yet, and this is how it felt to die. This was a possibility, a logical one at that. Dying wasn't supposed to be pleasant, was it? But Hermione realized that she didn't want to die, not when this ruddy snake was finally out of the picture. She wanted to live, see her twins again and finally get to know the babies that were growing inside of her. Yes, Hermione Weasley wanted to live – and live she would. That much she promised herself. This was just another battle she had to fight and Hermione was determined to win.
The picture that awaited them in the infirmary would haunt George's nightmares for weeks. Hermione's body was on the bed, but if George hadn't known that it must have been his wife, he hadn't recognized her. The body on the bed was covered in white bandages almost from head to toe and lied on the bed so still, that it was impossible to tell if it was still alive. It somehow looked like a mummy resting in her tomb, but George immediately shooed the picture away. He didn't want to think of Hermione as a mummified, dead person. No.
Madam Pomphrey and Minerva dashed around the bed like a well-trained team and for a moment George wondered, how often they had worked together like this during the last war. The medi-witch cast spell after spell and monitored the patient with her wand, while their former transfiguration professor juggled a tray full of potions, that she admistered with a security, that could only be obtained by practice.
"You're here, finally," the old professor shouted in their direction and waved them closer. "We'll need as many hands as we can get. Grab some of these potion bottles and put them on the bandages so that they are soaked with it. It will help with the recovery of the skin."
His stomach lurched, but he complied anyway. Recovery of skin? Merlin! Don't think about it, just do it, he told himself over and over again as his hands moved on autopilot. The potion in his hands was a clear green substance than reeked of mint and cleaning detergent. It started to smoke, as soon as it came in contact with the bandages on Hermione's skin. Was it supposed to be doing that? Probably, as neither Madame Pomphrey nor Minerva commented on it.
George wasn't sure if he was working for minutes or hours, but when the last bottle of green liquid was finally poured onto the bandages it was still dark outside. But the room around him was still filled with the buzz of several voices and as George looked up, he could see his mother and Ron at his side.
"Mum?" he asked in a small voice that sounded, like he was six again and Fred had fallen from Bills broom in the garden. His brother had to be taken to St. Mungos, away from him and George had never before felt so small and lost in his life.
"It will be alright, George. Hermione is a strong woman, she will pull through," she soothed him and took him into her arms. "We've done everything we could for her. Now we have to wait." He nodded mutely and let himself sink into the stiff chair at his wife's bedside. Fred was already sitting at a chair on her other side and looked at her with an empty gaze.
"Does anybody know what happened? How did she get out?" he asked again and looked at the others in the room. It was Harry, who was standing behind him, that gave the answer: "Fawkes got her out. He appeared with her in the infirmary shortly after the professor arrived with Neville. He must have felt that something was wrong and luckily phoenixes are creatures of fire. If it wasn't for him…" Minerva nodded with an unreadable expression and George swallowed heavily. "And the others? What about Mrs Malfoy and…" he couldn't finish the sentence.
"Dead," Malfoy replied from the back of the room. He was sitting in a dark corner and as George looked up and studied the young wizard's expression, his eyes were hollow and empty. "As far as we know my mother fell victim to the snake, and my father and the Carrows were unconscious, when the fire broke out. But we'll have to wait for your wife to wake up and confirm that theory."
George nodded mutely. "How long will it take her to wake up? She will wake up, won't she?"
Madam Pomphrey looked at him for a long moment. "There is no saying. It could be days, or weeks. Her magical core is totally exhausted and I don't know if her body will have enough energy to heal considering the extend of her injuries. Being burned like that would be bad enough on its own but with the drain of the magical chore and the pregnancy on top there is no saying if she can pull through. I'm sorry."
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Is there nothing we could do? Nothing at all?"
"The only way to help her would be to supply her with magical energy. But there is no known way of doing it. So if you can't work any miracles and supply her with that, then there is nothing that can be done."
George looked at his brother and suddenly an idea bloomed in his head. Maybe if they could re-establish the mental connection between the three of them. All they would need was another pendant and a bit of naked skin from her to touch it. Fred nodded in understanding and leaped from his chair.
"I'll be right back," he said and dashed from the infirmary. Maybe a miracle was possible for them. Because George was determined to make it happen, no matter the odds.
She floated in a bubble of warmth and happiness. The buzz in her head was now more of a pleasant hum in the background that gave her a sense of security and being loved. Hermione enjoyed that new feeling - it reminded her of home and family. She wasn't feeling dead, but she also wasn't alive. It was more like something in between, maybe like a dream? Or was this "her" version of Kings Cross that Harry had described to her? She concentrated, but there were no pictures, no sound, nothing. And Hermione decided that even though it felt kind of nice, she didn't like this nothingness. But how did she get out of here?
"Hermione," whispered a voice to her and it felt close and far away at the same time. Did that make any sense? Probably not. But many things weren't making sense to her at the moment.
"I'm here! Help!" she wanted to shout, but couldn't. Why couldn't she say anything? Her mouth felt better than before – almost normal – but it still refused to make a sound.
"Hermione, please. We need you," whispered the voice again, this time louder than before. "Please wake up."
"I'm trying," she tried to answer, but it was of no use. But she wouldn't give up - not ever. She wanted to go back, wanted to leave this place whatever it was, because there were people waiting for her. And she would not disappoint them. "I'll come back to you," she promised and struggled against the ties that were holding her. "You'll see."
Three days and three nights they had been sitting on her bed. Three days of waiting, hoping and holding her hand, while pressing the necklace into her cold fingers. George was not sure if what they were doing was even working, but as each session left him drained and tired, he was hoping that it did. Hermione didn't move a muscle and as the bandages weren't due to be changed until tomorrow, there was no saying if there was any improvement to her condition, at least not by simply looking at her. But Madam Pomphrey ensured them, that their wife was still alive and that the babies looked to be fine. It was what gave them hope and let them carry on.
The infirmary had gotten calmer over the last days. Neville was shipped off to a private ward at St. Mungo's the day before and the people who wanted information from them about the final confrontation with Voldemort had finally given up and directed their attention to somebody else. Their mum, Ron and Harry came once a day and to his surprise even Draco came over for a few minutes day by day. He wasn't talking to them, just staring at their wife with a stony expression and questions in his eyes, but as he didn't bother them they didn't send him away.
George had started talking to Hermione in his head and when he felt desperate enough he even called for her and pleaded her to finally come back to them. Nothing happened at first, but after a while her fingers started twitching in his hand and he looked at his brother with wide hopeful eyes. Fred was alert in the same second and leaped from his chair to get the matron. Madam Pomphrey came rushing towards them just a few moments later and after casting a few monitoring spells, she nodded with a happy smile.
"Looks like she's waking up," she confirmed and George' heart started beating frantically in his chest. Hermione was alive, she had pulled through and now she was finally coming back to them. "Try not to overwhelm her and don't expect too much of her at first. Remember, she barely escaped death a few days ago."
George nodded mutely. He didn't need a reminder that they had almost lost her and their children a few days ago. That wasn't a fact he was about to forget anytime soon. He understood what the nurse wanted to say. Now wasn't the time to ask questions or to make her in any way uncomfortable. But George hadn't planned to do that anyway.
The next thirty minutes trickled by ever so slowly, while they waited for Hermione to wake up. George remained by her side, held her hand and whispered encouraging words to her and bit by bit her body seemed to wake up: first her hands, then her feet and finally her head started twitching until after agonizing thirty minutes her eyes suddenly flew open. For a few moments her brown eyes just shifted from right to left eager to take in her surroundings and George didn't even have to try very hard to send her an encouraging and happy smile.
"Hermione, love, you're back," he murmured and pressed her hand. Her eyes shifted back to him and studied him with an intensity, that he had never seen there before.
"George," she croaked and grimaced. Her voice sounded horrible, but it was still the most wonderful sound he had heard in ages. He nodded towards her with a happy smile. She blinked at him groggily before she turned her head towards his brother. "Fred," she whispered again hoarsely and his twin beamed at her happily.
"We missed you, love," Fred said and gently took her other hand. "How do you feel?"
At that Hermione blinked silently for a moment, as if she wasn't sure what to answer. Finally she said: "I'm not in pain, but I can't move. Why can't I move?" Her voice was so tiny and sounded so scared, that George's heart contracted painfully in his chest.
"We had to cover your body in bandages, dear," Madam Pomphrey answered for them in a motherly tone. "Your skin was badly burned and we had to ensure, that it was in permanent contact with the cooling and healing tonics. But don't worry dear, we'll be able to remove the bandages by tomorrow. Just rest until then and try to recover your strength. I'm sure your husbands here will be only be too happy to keep you company. They haven't left your side for longer than a few minutes at a time."
Hermione blinked at them confusedly. "How long have I been out?"
"Three days," Fred answered calmly and smiled. "But don't worry about it. You haven't missed much."
"That must be the understatement of the century. I've got so many questions. What happened?" Hermione asked them somewhat desperately. But the medi-witch shook her head and tutted: "I'm sorry dear, but you are in no shape for such a long and exhausting discussion. You can ask questions as soon as you had some more rest. But until then, no more talking I'm afraid." She looked at them sternly and George was almost sure Hermione was about to object, but after a long moment she nodded tiredly instead. They didn't say another word but kept glancing at each other, but it didn't take long before Hermione's eyes fell close again. And a moment later she was already fast asleep.
Hermione slept through the rest of the day and the night like she didn't have a rest for ages, which was ridiculous as she hadn't done anything but rest for days. When she finally awoke she felt worlds better and the numbness in her limbs had finally subdued. Her head was still a bit fuzzy, but it was nothing compared to the fog, that had dampened her senses and spirit the day before. Now she felt more like she had enjoyed one or two glasses of wine and not like she had tried whatever Professor Trelawney must be drinking on a regular basis.
"You're awake," George murmured with a smile as soon as she had squinted her eyes open. He was still sitting next to her bed, but at a point he and Fred must have switched sides. "Are you still tired?"
She shook her head carefully but the yawn that escaped her mouth betrayed her action. "Just a bit," she finally admitted and Fred snorted.
"I'm afraid Madam Pomphrey wants to see you, as soon as you are awake. She really wants to get these bandages off of you and I must admit that I also can't wait to finally see your face again. You kind of look like a mummy at the moment. I mean, I like staring at your eyes and mouth, don't get me wrong, but I kind of miss the rest of you."
Hermione forced herself to smile and nodded. Still she felt queasy at the thought what they might find below the bandages. It must have been bad, when they had left them on her skin for that long. "Well, no time like the present then. Let's get this over with," she said and like on command Poppy was at her side a moment later.
"Well my dear, do you prefer if we do this alone? Or do you want your husbands to stay?" the matron asked and cast her a motherly smile. Hermione gulped. There was nothing below these bandages, that those two hadn't already seen but what if she was badly scarred and ugly? Well, they would see it anyway sooner or later and when she thought about it, there was no reason they shouldn't see it right away. Because if she was honest with herself, she wanted them at her side - wanted their support.
"Fred and George can stay," she said with conviction. "That is if you don't mind Madame Pomphrey."
The medi-witch shrugged with a smile. "Alright then. We'll do this the quick way. I'll just ban these bandages with my wand. It's much faster and more gentle that way." With that the woman pulled out her wand from her sleeve and held it between her fingers like a delicate instrument.
Hermione swallowed heavily and nodded. "Alright." She involuntarily closed her eyes and a moment later she heard the incantation and felt the wash of magic on her skin. It was the gasp of the twins that forced her eyes open again and let her look at herself with a critical eye.
"What's wrong?" she asked a bit panicked and looked at the skin of her arms. It looked fine, as there didn't seem a scar in sight. But then she looked closer and furrowed her brows. Freckles? Since when did she have freckles?
Fred cleared his throat next to her uncomfortably and George scratched his head nervously.
"Unfortunately we couldn't save your hair my dear," Mrs Pomphrey said while scanning her with her wand. "But I'm sure it will grow back just fine with time. Everything else seems to have recovered just nicely."
Hermione swallowed thickly and moved her hand to her head. All the curls were gone and instead only a thin layer of soft hair coated her skin there. "I'm bald," she said in an unbelieving tone and after she saw the dumbstruck look on the twin's faces she giggled hysterically. "No one will know me without this wild mob of curls. It's almost like professor Dumbledore without a beard."
The twins snorted. "It's even worse, Hermione. You're a redhead now." With that Fred transfigured a mirror and offered it to her. When Hermione caught a look of herself, her eyes almost bulged out. It was almost bizarre. Her face was still the same, but her skin was sprinkled with freckles over freckles. And the short hair on her head was definitely ginger. Hermione shook her head confusedly. "I don't understand," she said and gave the mirror back to Fred. "What happened to me?"
Fred and George cast each other a long look and Madame Pomphrey sighed. "During the fight you must have totally drained your magical core and we were not sure if you would be able to heal considering your injuries. Your husbands found a way to… transfer some of their magical energy to you."
Hermione swallowed and looked at the two of them with wide eyes. "You… gave me your magic? Like a blood donation?"
"No!" the two of them shouted in unison and gaped at her. "There was no blood involved Hermione, we swear!" But Hermione waved them off totally unconcerned.
"I didn't mean it like this. Blood donation is totally common with muggles. When somebody suffers a big blood loss then blood from another person can be transferred to substitute for the loss. My parents went regularly and donated some of their blood for the hospitals. It's totally normal, don't worry. Muggles don't have blood replenishers after all. I was merely curious as I've never heard of such a thing like transfer of magical energy."
Madam Pomphrey nodded in understanding. "Well, that is because something like a transfer of magical energy is totally unheard of. I don't know how your husbands did it, but it must have worked, as the part of Weasley magic that runs through your body now seems fairly obvious."
Fred and George snorted and grinned. But Hermione looked at them inquiringly. "Are you two alright? I mean, this didn't hurt you or drain you, did it?"
They waved her off with a grin. "Don't worry about us, love. It's nothing that can't be replaced with some good nights of rest and some of mum's food." Fred said, before George continued: "Our magic will recover itself in a few days and we don't plan on using much of it in the near future. No dark wizards around that need our immediate attention."
Hermione laughed happily. "You mean it's all over? Did you … did you finish him for good?"
The twins looked at each other, before focussing back at her. "Harry finished him off with a basilisk fang. And you killed the snake, right?"
Hermione swallowed heavily and nodded. "The snake's dead, yeah. I'm not sure if I can talk about everything just now, but as soon as I am better, I need to talk to Draco. He deserves to know what happened and hopefully he'll forgive me in time."
George gently kissed her temple. "It's okay love. Take as much time as you need. We won't pressure you and we'll fight of everybody who tries. We were Quiddich beaters after all." They puffed their chests proudly.
Hermione snorted, before all of them erupted in laughter. They had really pulled through and even though there were still death eaters outside, she was sure that all would be well – in time. The dark lord was no more and the dark shadow that he had cast over their life was finally lifted. And Hermione was determined to enjoy what the future held for her and her little family. Because finally she couldn't await the days to come, days full of happiness, laughter and light.