Instead of finishing part 2 of "At The Heart of Courage," I fell down another rabbit hole of an idea and have a completely different story to share with you. This takes place in the years following the Battle of Hogwarts. It has canon couples, but isn't necessarily intended to comply with the epilogue or the Cursed Child.
This one is a bit out there, so I hope you'll hang in there with me for the first few chapters until you can get into the heart of the story. The story is mostly done, so I hope to post it all in the next few weeks. I can't wait to hear your thoughts and feedback. As always, thanks and awe to the great JK Rowling for creating such amazing characters and letting us continue to play in the incredible universe she built.
And now, without further ado...onto the story.
Chapter 1
She must have tried to turn her head in her sleep, because it was the searing pain of a stiff neck forced out of position that roused her from her slumber. As she immediately reached for her neck and tried to slowly stretch it, she realized she must have fallen asleep leaning over his bed. Again. She looked at his hand resting peacefully in hers and marveled at the rise and fall of his chest. He looked so peaceful. If she didn't know better she would think he was just asleep and would awake at any moment.
She tried to sit up straight and stretch out her back, letting go of his hand to reach her arms above her head as she tried to work out the kinks that had set in overnight. Standing up, she leaned over and cupped his still face in her right hand, leaned down and chastely kissed his lips.
"Good morning, Ron," she said softly.
She let out a deep breath and looked at him again, reaching to move some of his ginger fringe away from his eyes. She knew it didn't need to be done, but she felt better when she felt like she was doing something – anything – to care for him.
"I know, I know, you had to fall for a ruddy morning person. But, it's too late to change that now," she said teasingly. "I'm going to head to the loo and get ready for the day while you slowly wake up. When I come back I'll find Alice and we'll start your morning routine, alright?"
Without waiting for a response, she headed over to the small bathroom attached to his room. She stripped off her dirty clothes and stepped into the shower, letting the hot water pound on her sore neck for longer than usual. Once she was clean, she dried off and put on the clean clothes she pulled out of her trusted beaded bag. Then she did a quick spell on the room to dry it again, as it was hard to keep the water in the shower stall when it had no curb to make it easy to roll a wheel chair straight in.
She put on some lip gloss, but then she shook her head and muttered to herself, "Not sure why I bother with that, no one will care anyway." Then she stopped herself, took a deep breath and let it out slowly and then looked in the mirror and spoke sternly to her reflection. "Stop that, Hermione. You have to stay positive. That grumbling and negative thinking doesn't help anything. Now, pull yourself together, you have to go back out there and be the upbeat positive one. He's counting on you. It's what he would do for you – what he has done for you." She stared at her eyes in the mirror for a moment and then plastered on a smile and headed back into the main room.
"All clean," she chirped as she crossed the room and put her bag back on the chair near her books. "Your turn, mister," she added. "It's after half seven now, so I am sure Alice will be in any minute, but should we get started without her? Yeah, I think so too."
With that she flicked her wand at the bed and it slowly began to bend so that Ron was moved to an almost sitting position. As it moved, she cast another charm to prop up his head and hold him to the bed so he didn't slump forward as it moved. She was rearranging his sheets as the door opened, and the older witch walked in.
"Good morning, Alice," said Hermione.
"Good morning, Hermione," she said. "He was ready to get going early this morning, was he?"
"Well, I thought so," Hermione replied with a smile. "Need to start the week off right, don't we? My mum used to say it was good to always be early on Mondays, then you weren't starting off by having to catch up. Of course, I am rather confident Ron never embraced that particular philosophy, but until he tells me to stop we're going with it."
"Good plan," chuckled the woman as she washed her hands. Then turning to the ginger in the bed she said in a more formal voice, "Alright Mr. Weasley, let's get the unpleasant parts out of the way first, shall we? Hermione, will you hand me that catheter please?"
Hermione nodded and in a practiced routine laid out the sterile supplies that were needed and then turned around to pretend to fuss with the books next to her bag. Despite how intimate she was with Ron's body, she had refused to be the one to catheterize him. She felt like she should preserve his dignity and let the nurses catheterize him and change his adult sized-diaper when he soiled it. There had been times when she'd done it out of necessity, but she always apologized when she'd done that. It was one grip of normalcy she refused to give up on. At least not yet.
"All done," Alice proclaimed, and Hermione turned back around and smiled at the older woman. She was in her late fifties, was built rather like Mrs. Weasley and gave off the air of both authority and formality until you looked in her eyes. Once you looked past the starched white skirts and stockings, you could see there was great tenderness and caring in her eyes if you could see past the stern exterior. She was a formidable witch, though, and most of the younger staff members on that floor at St. Mungo's were terrified of her. She would not stand for improper care or lackadaisical attitudes on her unit. But Hermione had been working with her for so long now, that she and the stern nurse had formed a bond of sorts, and Hermione was extremely grateful for her.
"I've washed his privates," said the woman formally, "do you want me to continue or would you prefer to handle everything else?"
"I'll do it, thanks," said Hermione with a smile.
"Right. Then let's administer the breakfast infusion and I'll get his vitals, and then leave you two to it."
Hermione nodded as Alice charmed a tube up Ron's nose and down through his throat. Connecting that to a bag of beige liquid, she hung it on a pole attached to the head of the bed. Then she did a few quick spells to note his temperature, blood pressure and heart rate, jotting them down on the parchment at the front of the room.
"Everything's good this morning. I don't think we need any of the other potions for now, Hermione. How about you, can I have someone fetch you some breakfast?"
"Oh, no, thanks Alice. You know me – I'm not quite ready to face food yet."
Alice frowned as she replied, "Hermione, if you don't take care of yourself, you won't be able to take care of him."
"You sound just like him," Hermione said sadly.
"Well, good. Glad he's a sensible lad. You should listen to him and eat something. I'll send in one of the elves with some porridge and tea in a bit. You can fuss at me later," she said and marched out of the room.
Hermione closed her eyes for a moment and shook her head. "You should know that I am only going to eat that horrid porridge because I know you would want me to. Although, it can't be too much worse than whatever it is they're feeding you. So, I guess I shouldn't complain. But I promise you, I am trying hard to figure out a way to get you to be able to taste good food again. Part of me thinks if you could just have some chicken and a chocolate frog or two that you would be much more your old self."
She sighed sadly for a moment and looked at him, unresponsive in the bed, and then shook her head again and put her chipper attitude back on.
"Right. No wallowing. Bath time. Harry and Gin said they would come by at lunch today, so we need to get you cleaned up and get through your stretches in time for a short rest before then. Don't want you too tired to enjoy their visit."
But before she could get started, an elf appeared with a tray of breakfast.
"Thank you, Essie," Hermione said. "Could I give you anything to show how thankful I am?"
"Oh no, Miss, Essie is happy to help her friend."
Hermione nodded and the elf disappeared with a crack. She sighed and sat to take a few bites of her breakfast and drink the tea.
"I know you're rolling your eyes at me somehow," she said. "And yes, I fully see the irony of having an elf serve me my meals multiple times a day. And no, I am not going to trick them into taking clothes or anything. I guess we're both growing or something. Who knows."
When she was done, she summoned the basin and flannel and began to wash his limbs. As she did so, she would work each through a series of bends and stretches, trying to will life back into the lifeless muscles. After that she cleaned his torso, saving his face for last. She only washed his hair when they moved him to the shower, as it was a too messy to try and rinse out the soap in the bed. But, he only needed it every few days or so as long as she wet it down with the damp flannel each morning and did a refreshing charm. Afterwards she would wipe down his cheeks and forehead, tracing her fingers over his pale eyelashes and lips. Then she would shave his face. She had been nervous the first time she'd done that, but Harry and Charlie both assured her she had done a good job, and now she quite enjoyed that part of their morning routine. She loved how she used the same soap he always had, and once she was done she could slide her cheek next to his, inhale deeply and at least for a tiny moment be transported back to when life was simpler.
She was standing and leaning awkwardly over his bed with her face buried in the crook of his neck, inhaling the smell when Alice came back in.
"Hermione," she fussed. "How many times have I told you to just expand the bed?"
"Couldn't say for sure," admitted Hermione. "But we've been here nine months this week, and you work about five days a week, so probably somewhere around 200 times I suppose."
"Huh," huffed the witch. "They call you the smartest witch of your age, you know. And some may be impressed with your quick arithmetic skills, but if you were really smart you would just expand the bloody bed."
"Thank you, Alice," Hermione said with a twinge of snippiness in her voice. "I know perfectly well how to enlarge the bed. But, I am not sick and don't need to be in bed all day, and neither is he. So, if you wouldn't mind, would you help me get him into the chair before our friends come? I want to put some clothes on him today. Help him feel a bit more like himself for company, you know?"
"One of these days I am going to switch my shift so I am here in the evening and force you to expand that bed."
Hermione simply ignored the comment and rolled the wheelchair to its position next to the bed and locked the wheels in place. Then she got tracksuit bottoms and Cannons shirt out of the beaded bag. As Alice levitated Ron out of the bed, Hermione got him dressed, slipping on the wool socks once he was securely in the wheelchair.
"I would prefer he wore muggle denim trousers or corduroys, but they just seem too hard to get on and off when you need catheterize him, so these will have to do, I suppose."
"I think he looks quite smart," Alice proclaimed as she secured his head to the head rest on the back of the chair, ensuring he didn't slump forward.
"You know, Alice, I think we need to have him sleep on his side for a few days," Hermione said. "We need to make sure his skin is alright. We don't want any pressure ulcers or bed sores to develop."
"And how do you know about bed sores?" chuckled the older witch. "No, don't tell me. A book, right?"
"Well, yes. When my grandmother went into a care home years ago I read up on caring for people with strokes and such so I know what we're up against, you know?"
"Right. Were these muggle books or magical?"
"Muggle," Hermione admitted quietly.
"Right. Well, if you'd read the magical ones, you'd know we charm the mattress to change pressure points on the body throughout the day. His skin is perfectly fine, I promise."
"Ok," Hermione said as the woman nodded and left them alone again.
As the door shut, Hermione sighed and looked at Ron. "I still think we need to keep you in different positions. Even if they have fixed the skin issue, I would think you just hurt being in the same position all of the time. I get stiff if I sit without moving for a few hours, so I can only imagine you are itching to stretch out and shift." She kissed his forehead and then added, "and I think you are all done with breakfast. Let me get that horrid tube out. I hope this is the right thing, Ron. The healers insist it's better to move it in and out each meal, but I just don't know. It seems to me it would hurt and feel awful, but I am trying to believe the experts, and, well, you know – I haven't found any good books on it yet." As she vanished the tubing and bag from breakfast, she continued and cleaned up the room from the rest of the morning's activities.
When she was done she glanced at the clock on the wall. "Oh, good. Still an hour before Harry and Gin are set to come. Maybe we could read a bit or have a quick kip before then." Then she blushed a bit and added, "I don't know why I feel silly about this compared to everything else. But, if it's ok with you, I want to try sitting on your lap for a few minutes, ok? I won't be long, I promise – don't want to crush you or anything. I just..."
At that her voice cracked a little and she wiped a tear from her eye before it could fall.
"Sorry, sorry," she sniffed. "It's just you're the one who is good at being positive. I'm trying. I really am. But I still need you, Ron. I need you to come back to me. I love you so much, and I miss you so much. If you can't come back, I don't know how much longer I can manage to be here without you."
At that she wheeled the chair to a part of the room not immediately visible from the door to allow them some semblance of privacy. She parked him in front of the window and sat on his lap, hesitantly at first. Then she relaxed into him more, snuggling her head against his chest. She took a deep breath, inhaling his scent and letting the rhythm of his heart and his breath sooth her.