Untitled-pt. 2
by
*~@NiGiRl~*
---------
[Disclaimer: I dunt own these characters, but I wish I did! :D Dunt sue me, because, um, um, I'll gladly argue with you! Anyway ... Band-Aids aren't mine, either. Though we have some in our medicine cabinet! ;)]
---------
[A/N: I really shuld continue mi other series before I write this ... but I received encouragement from the reviews ... even though I had more on the other one (Tsemlin). Okay, fine, I don't hav an xcuse, but yu understand, don yu? Aite late ... R/R if you want me to continue and ignore mi otha series! ;) btw I fixed the HTML problem so it wouldn't show up on this fic ... can't do anythin with tha 1st one tho. Remember to read the 1st one before this, but you *might* be able to catch on even if yu dunt, but i dunt advise it ... :)]
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Ron picked up the fone and dialed Hermione's number. Ron had taken a Muggle class and now knew a lot about Muggle appliances and had quite a few in his house. No more fellytones for him.
He was a successful Quidditch player, not as good as Charlie, perhaps, but good enough. He had raked up enough money and could now retire at the age of 23. He didn't want to buy a mansion or anything, since it would require an immense amount of caretaking, which he was not up to, and instead settled down in a comfy sea cottage quite close to where Hermione lived. The only difference between their houses was that Hermione's was about 50 times bigger.
Not home. He left a message. "Hey Hermione, it's Ron ... guess you're not home, huh. Well gimme a ring when you get back. Thanks, bye."
He went rummagine about the storage room. Upon doing so, he found the Omnioculars Harry had bought for the trio at the previous Quidditch World Cup. He hadn't heard from Harry for a long time. The last was a postcard about three years ago from Iceland. It had read,
"Greetings, Ron,
"I'm having fun in this place. Deep greetings t'ya. Trouble doesn't exist here. Everything whenever pleases me. Big help. --Harry"
Reading it again, now, it occured to him that it didn't make much sense. Noticing a small script on the picture, on a shadowed mountain, he read: "Circle every third word, starting by circling 'I'm'." A hidden message! Ron smiled, bemused. Harry was always inventing new tricks such as these. As for Harry and Hermione's relationship, it seemed that Harry hadn't contacted Hermione at all. Hermione must be heartbroken, Ron thought.
He decided to black out the other words instead of circling the third word, since Harry's handwriting was so cramped he could hardly read it. Imagine circling it! It'll look like chicken scratch, Ron thought, smiling. Not like it doesn't already.
It ended up like this: [A/N: I used symbols to stand for blacked out words]
"&^%%$*@#!, (&^,
"I'm &@^($* @%^ in &$^# $(&#^@. Deep $^##*%&^@ /'(). Trouble ;*[];' :"{}; here. %&$%^@$(*& #%@^#$!@ pleases #%. &$^ help. --Harry"
Ron stared at the postcard after reading the letter slowly. "I'm in deep trouble here. Pleases help." Pleases? he wondered. Harry had probably meant to write please, but couldn't figure out how to work it in. Harry had sent this card *two years* ago, however ... A feeling of dread filled Ron. Harry was probably dead now, but there had to be hope. He called Hermione's cellular phone. She HAD to be there!
***
Hermione woke up later, in some sort of cell. It was damp, and something was crawling on her leg. A cockroach! Ugh! She was chained to the wall, however, and couldn't reach it. She could only watch in horror as it crawled up her leg, higher and higher. She started shaking horribly, slamming her body against the cement wall in an effort to shake the roach off. It seemed to be glued to her thigh. To her dismay, more and more cockroaches climbed upon her. They were all over her body! Hermione screamed.
The chain was rusty, heavy, and crusted with blood. Horrified, she started to feel her last meal coming up her throat.
She heard a deep chuckle. "Who-who's there?" she called out shakingly.
Whoever it was, he/she/it burst into laughter, and she heard a heavy door slam shut. She sighed. The only lighting came from a torch in the cell. Suddenly the cockroaches were gone. Magic, she thought weakly.
All of a sudden she remembered the rose. The rose, she thought, they can't have stolen it, no! No, no, no, no! She slumped in defeat.
"Her-mi-o-ne?" a voice croaked. She jerked upright again. "Who are you?" Something moved in the corner.
She saw a head poke out from under a ragged woolen blanket, patched, holed, frayed. A head she remembered so well ...
Black, tousled, sticking up ... emerald, piercing eyes that she'd gazed into so many times before ... and a lightning bolt scar, that symbolized everything he'd ever been through in just a simple, poignant slash.
"Harry!" she cried and all of a sudden her voice was muffled. "What happened?" she asked, her voice a whisper. "Why can't I talk louder?" she was growing more and more hysterical.
"You'll let them know I'm sane," he croaked. "They think I've lost it. That I'm useless now. I sent a message to Ron years ago, but he never came. He probably never got the meaning of the postcard, but I-"
Hermione's cell vibrated. She put a hand over Harry's mouth to quiet him and answered the call. "Hello?"
"Hermione!" Ron's voice breathed in relief. "Where are you?"
"In a dungeon," Hermione whispered, but Ron cut through. "I have urgent news. Harry's in trouble! He sent me a message two years ago and I've- what did you say? You're in a WHAT?"
"Stop speaking so loudly! I'm in a dungeon! You know, d-u-n-g-e-o-n. With Harry."
There was a silence. Hermione wasn't quite sure why. "How-how did you get in a dungeon ... with Harry?"
"I was-I was opening a parcel, I got, and admiring it, and I didn't notice anything until I discovered I was flying above London and I think whoever was taking me gassed me. Then I woke up here, and just discovered Harry."
Another long pause. "Okaaay. Let me talk to him."
"Alrite." Hermione handed the phone to Harry by pushing it towards him with her foot.
"Ron!" Harry hoarsely whispered. "So you finally figured out my postcard?"
Hermione could only guess what Ron was saying.
"We're in ... remember my card, okay? Starting now: Go and run to Lavendar with a log in'er fireplace, no long use, ask for Floo, ya know, powder, sparkly grains and then don't shout, "Fairy Light Dungeons from Hogwarts of a lewd Nyeki!"
It made no sense to Hermione at all, but Ron had been busily writing it down. "Hold on a sec," he told Harry, "let me figure it out." Hermione could at least hear that.
In his cottage, he read out in his head, "Go to a fireplace use Floo powder and shout Dungeons of Nyeki"
"Clever, Harry," he said. "I'll go in a moment. Goodbye."
"Goodbye," Harry whispered.
Hermione could suddenly talk normal again. "What was that all about? Fairy Light Dungeons from Hogwarts of a Lewd Nyeki? Nyeki?"
"Nyeki means second wife. It's a girl's name."
"Oh."
But Hermione couldn't stop thinking of that party, five years ago. "Oh, Harry, why did you leave me? Why? What was it that she had and I lacked?"
Harry sighed and looked up at the torch. "The pain, Hermione, I've endured in this dungeon, I'd only survived by thinking of you and of hopes I could I find you again when I escaped."
"So you ... you loved me ever since the start?" Tears filled her eyes.
"I'm afraid so," Harry said gruffly.
"Then why ... why did you cheat two times? *Two* times?" Hermione sobbed.
"I never really cheated, Hermi, love, it was this thing, they tricked me! That's why I'm here. That's why they kidnapped you. To see if you could make me "sane" again, so they could use me more. Oh, Hermione, the best thing for you to do is to go, now, I know the way out. I'm just too weak. But you can, Hermione, I know it. They haven't weakened you yet."
"I'll stay with you, Harry! If I go, you have to go, too! If I can break free, then I can help you break free too! Harry! Harry! Harry!" Her voice had been hushed to a whisper again.
"Shhh," Harry crooned. "Twist both your wrists outward and snap your elbows the wrong way."
"The wrong way?!"
"Trust me, Hermione, believe me, I would never harm you."
She closed her eyes, and twisted her wrists. Then taking a deep breath, she bent her elbows the wrong way.
And opened her eyes. The chain was gone. Harry was smiling at her, but then stopped as if something pained him.
"What is it?" Hermione rushed over. She uncovered the blanket and gasped with consternation. Harry's entire abdomen was encrusted with blood and there were burns everywhere. "Harry ... I ... oh, Harry!"
She wanted to throw herself upon him and cry at the suffering and torture he'd been through. Since she couldn't possibly do so without crushing his abdomen she lay her head on his shoulders and kissed him. "I'm so, *so* sorry, Harry!" She cried a bit more.
"There, there." he said gently, running one hand through her hair and wiping her tears away with the other. "Let's just wait for Ron and hope he's brought a First Aid kit."
Hermione sat up and rumaged through her pocket. "I have one Band-Aid," she said. "Would that do?" She giggled. He smiled at her and pulled her towards him to kiss her again.
"Harry, I've missed you so, so, much ..." she murmered.
Just then Ron appeared. He saw them kissing. They did not notice him. Ron backed up against the wall. A torrent of emotions was flowing through him. "No," he whispered under his breath. He was happy about Harry being alive, of course, and happy that Hermione wasn't badly hurt, but he'd thought ... he'd thought ... never mind. Back to the way things were before. He felt tears coming to his eyes, and stooped down to tie his shoe. Hermione, Hermione, Hermione, he lamented. I can't believe you still love him! After all he's done for you! And after everything *I* did for you! Oh, Hermione! Ron felt his heart breaking.
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[Disclaimer: This song is called "Pretty Boy" by M2M ... I personally dunt like M2M, but I heard it, and I'm like, that's just like this fic! It reminded me of Ron's feelings about Hermione, except it should be "Pretty Girl", shouldn't it? Just so you know ... so you don't think Ron is gay or anything, cause he isn't ... hehe ;) Soo, here it is:
I lie awake at night
See things in black and white
I only got you inside my mind
You know you have made me blind
I lie awake and pray
That you will look my way
I have all this longing in my heart
I knew it right from the start
[Chorus:]
Oh my pretty pretty boy I love you
Like I
Never ever loved no one before you
Pretty pretty boy o' mine
Just tell me you love me too (Tell me you love me too)
Oh my pretty pretty boy I need you
Oh my pretty pretty boy I do
Let me inside
Make me stay
Right beside you
I used to write your name
I put it in a frame
And sometimes I think I hear you call
Right from my bedroom wall
You stay a little while
And touch me with your smile (Touch me with your smile)
What can I say to make you mine
To reach out for you in time
[Chorus]
Oh pretty boy (pretty boy, pretty boy, pretty boy)
Say you love me too
Oh my pretty boy
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[A/N: Yes, I am so evil that I have anotha cliff hanger! ;) It's not my fault ... please R/R if you want another part. The more reviews, the more inspired I am! 3 yall, late.]
------------
by
*~@NiGiRl~*
---------
[Disclaimer: I dunt own these characters, but I wish I did! :D Dunt sue me, because, um, um, I'll gladly argue with you! Anyway ... Band-Aids aren't mine, either. Though we have some in our medicine cabinet! ;)]
---------
[A/N: I really shuld continue mi other series before I write this ... but I received encouragement from the reviews ... even though I had more on the other one (Tsemlin). Okay, fine, I don't hav an xcuse, but yu understand, don yu? Aite late ... R/R if you want me to continue and ignore mi otha series! ;) btw I fixed the HTML problem so it wouldn't show up on this fic ... can't do anythin with tha 1st one tho. Remember to read the 1st one before this, but you *might* be able to catch on even if yu dunt, but i dunt advise it ... :)]
---------
Ron picked up the fone and dialed Hermione's number. Ron had taken a Muggle class and now knew a lot about Muggle appliances and had quite a few in his house. No more fellytones for him.
He was a successful Quidditch player, not as good as Charlie, perhaps, but good enough. He had raked up enough money and could now retire at the age of 23. He didn't want to buy a mansion or anything, since it would require an immense amount of caretaking, which he was not up to, and instead settled down in a comfy sea cottage quite close to where Hermione lived. The only difference between their houses was that Hermione's was about 50 times bigger.
Not home. He left a message. "Hey Hermione, it's Ron ... guess you're not home, huh. Well gimme a ring when you get back. Thanks, bye."
He went rummagine about the storage room. Upon doing so, he found the Omnioculars Harry had bought for the trio at the previous Quidditch World Cup. He hadn't heard from Harry for a long time. The last was a postcard about three years ago from Iceland. It had read,
"Greetings, Ron,
"I'm having fun in this place. Deep greetings t'ya. Trouble doesn't exist here. Everything whenever pleases me. Big help. --Harry"
Reading it again, now, it occured to him that it didn't make much sense. Noticing a small script on the picture, on a shadowed mountain, he read: "Circle every third word, starting by circling 'I'm'." A hidden message! Ron smiled, bemused. Harry was always inventing new tricks such as these. As for Harry and Hermione's relationship, it seemed that Harry hadn't contacted Hermione at all. Hermione must be heartbroken, Ron thought.
He decided to black out the other words instead of circling the third word, since Harry's handwriting was so cramped he could hardly read it. Imagine circling it! It'll look like chicken scratch, Ron thought, smiling. Not like it doesn't already.
It ended up like this: [A/N: I used symbols to stand for blacked out words]
"&^%%$*@#!, (&^,
"I'm &@^($* @%^ in &$^# $(&#^@. Deep $^##*%&^@ /'(). Trouble ;*[];' :"{}; here. %&$%^@$(*& #%@^#$!@ pleases #%. &$^ help. --Harry"
Ron stared at the postcard after reading the letter slowly. "I'm in deep trouble here. Pleases help." Pleases? he wondered. Harry had probably meant to write please, but couldn't figure out how to work it in. Harry had sent this card *two years* ago, however ... A feeling of dread filled Ron. Harry was probably dead now, but there had to be hope. He called Hermione's cellular phone. She HAD to be there!
***
Hermione woke up later, in some sort of cell. It was damp, and something was crawling on her leg. A cockroach! Ugh! She was chained to the wall, however, and couldn't reach it. She could only watch in horror as it crawled up her leg, higher and higher. She started shaking horribly, slamming her body against the cement wall in an effort to shake the roach off. It seemed to be glued to her thigh. To her dismay, more and more cockroaches climbed upon her. They were all over her body! Hermione screamed.
The chain was rusty, heavy, and crusted with blood. Horrified, she started to feel her last meal coming up her throat.
She heard a deep chuckle. "Who-who's there?" she called out shakingly.
Whoever it was, he/she/it burst into laughter, and she heard a heavy door slam shut. She sighed. The only lighting came from a torch in the cell. Suddenly the cockroaches were gone. Magic, she thought weakly.
All of a sudden she remembered the rose. The rose, she thought, they can't have stolen it, no! No, no, no, no! She slumped in defeat.
"Her-mi-o-ne?" a voice croaked. She jerked upright again. "Who are you?" Something moved in the corner.
She saw a head poke out from under a ragged woolen blanket, patched, holed, frayed. A head she remembered so well ...
Black, tousled, sticking up ... emerald, piercing eyes that she'd gazed into so many times before ... and a lightning bolt scar, that symbolized everything he'd ever been through in just a simple, poignant slash.
"Harry!" she cried and all of a sudden her voice was muffled. "What happened?" she asked, her voice a whisper. "Why can't I talk louder?" she was growing more and more hysterical.
"You'll let them know I'm sane," he croaked. "They think I've lost it. That I'm useless now. I sent a message to Ron years ago, but he never came. He probably never got the meaning of the postcard, but I-"
Hermione's cell vibrated. She put a hand over Harry's mouth to quiet him and answered the call. "Hello?"
"Hermione!" Ron's voice breathed in relief. "Where are you?"
"In a dungeon," Hermione whispered, but Ron cut through. "I have urgent news. Harry's in trouble! He sent me a message two years ago and I've- what did you say? You're in a WHAT?"
"Stop speaking so loudly! I'm in a dungeon! You know, d-u-n-g-e-o-n. With Harry."
There was a silence. Hermione wasn't quite sure why. "How-how did you get in a dungeon ... with Harry?"
"I was-I was opening a parcel, I got, and admiring it, and I didn't notice anything until I discovered I was flying above London and I think whoever was taking me gassed me. Then I woke up here, and just discovered Harry."
Another long pause. "Okaaay. Let me talk to him."
"Alrite." Hermione handed the phone to Harry by pushing it towards him with her foot.
"Ron!" Harry hoarsely whispered. "So you finally figured out my postcard?"
Hermione could only guess what Ron was saying.
"We're in ... remember my card, okay? Starting now: Go and run to Lavendar with a log in'er fireplace, no long use, ask for Floo, ya know, powder, sparkly grains and then don't shout, "Fairy Light Dungeons from Hogwarts of a lewd Nyeki!"
It made no sense to Hermione at all, but Ron had been busily writing it down. "Hold on a sec," he told Harry, "let me figure it out." Hermione could at least hear that.
In his cottage, he read out in his head, "Go to a fireplace use Floo powder and shout Dungeons of Nyeki"
"Clever, Harry," he said. "I'll go in a moment. Goodbye."
"Goodbye," Harry whispered.
Hermione could suddenly talk normal again. "What was that all about? Fairy Light Dungeons from Hogwarts of a Lewd Nyeki? Nyeki?"
"Nyeki means second wife. It's a girl's name."
"Oh."
But Hermione couldn't stop thinking of that party, five years ago. "Oh, Harry, why did you leave me? Why? What was it that she had and I lacked?"
Harry sighed and looked up at the torch. "The pain, Hermione, I've endured in this dungeon, I'd only survived by thinking of you and of hopes I could I find you again when I escaped."
"So you ... you loved me ever since the start?" Tears filled her eyes.
"I'm afraid so," Harry said gruffly.
"Then why ... why did you cheat two times? *Two* times?" Hermione sobbed.
"I never really cheated, Hermi, love, it was this thing, they tricked me! That's why I'm here. That's why they kidnapped you. To see if you could make me "sane" again, so they could use me more. Oh, Hermione, the best thing for you to do is to go, now, I know the way out. I'm just too weak. But you can, Hermione, I know it. They haven't weakened you yet."
"I'll stay with you, Harry! If I go, you have to go, too! If I can break free, then I can help you break free too! Harry! Harry! Harry!" Her voice had been hushed to a whisper again.
"Shhh," Harry crooned. "Twist both your wrists outward and snap your elbows the wrong way."
"The wrong way?!"
"Trust me, Hermione, believe me, I would never harm you."
She closed her eyes, and twisted her wrists. Then taking a deep breath, she bent her elbows the wrong way.
And opened her eyes. The chain was gone. Harry was smiling at her, but then stopped as if something pained him.
"What is it?" Hermione rushed over. She uncovered the blanket and gasped with consternation. Harry's entire abdomen was encrusted with blood and there were burns everywhere. "Harry ... I ... oh, Harry!"
She wanted to throw herself upon him and cry at the suffering and torture he'd been through. Since she couldn't possibly do so without crushing his abdomen she lay her head on his shoulders and kissed him. "I'm so, *so* sorry, Harry!" She cried a bit more.
"There, there." he said gently, running one hand through her hair and wiping her tears away with the other. "Let's just wait for Ron and hope he's brought a First Aid kit."
Hermione sat up and rumaged through her pocket. "I have one Band-Aid," she said. "Would that do?" She giggled. He smiled at her and pulled her towards him to kiss her again.
"Harry, I've missed you so, so, much ..." she murmered.
Just then Ron appeared. He saw them kissing. They did not notice him. Ron backed up against the wall. A torrent of emotions was flowing through him. "No," he whispered under his breath. He was happy about Harry being alive, of course, and happy that Hermione wasn't badly hurt, but he'd thought ... he'd thought ... never mind. Back to the way things were before. He felt tears coming to his eyes, and stooped down to tie his shoe. Hermione, Hermione, Hermione, he lamented. I can't believe you still love him! After all he's done for you! And after everything *I* did for you! Oh, Hermione! Ron felt his heart breaking.
------------
[Disclaimer: This song is called "Pretty Boy" by M2M ... I personally dunt like M2M, but I heard it, and I'm like, that's just like this fic! It reminded me of Ron's feelings about Hermione, except it should be "Pretty Girl", shouldn't it? Just so you know ... so you don't think Ron is gay or anything, cause he isn't ... hehe ;) Soo, here it is:
I lie awake at night
See things in black and white
I only got you inside my mind
You know you have made me blind
I lie awake and pray
That you will look my way
I have all this longing in my heart
I knew it right from the start
[Chorus:]
Oh my pretty pretty boy I love you
Like I
Never ever loved no one before you
Pretty pretty boy o' mine
Just tell me you love me too (Tell me you love me too)
Oh my pretty pretty boy I need you
Oh my pretty pretty boy I do
Let me inside
Make me stay
Right beside you
I used to write your name
I put it in a frame
And sometimes I think I hear you call
Right from my bedroom wall
You stay a little while
And touch me with your smile (Touch me with your smile)
What can I say to make you mine
To reach out for you in time
[Chorus]
Oh pretty boy (pretty boy, pretty boy, pretty boy)
Say you love me too
Oh my pretty boy
------------
[A/N: Yes, I am so evil that I have anotha cliff hanger! ;) It's not my fault ... please R/R if you want another part. The more reviews, the more inspired I am! 3 yall, late.]
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