Torn, part three

Disclaimer: I do not own anything in this story but the plot. All names, including book titles, are taken by other people.

Hermione raised her eyes from the book she had been reading all night, a simpe, happy muggle creation entitled "Wild Magic" when she heard her mother's footsteps outside her door. She dove under the covers, discarding the book, and whisked her eyes shut. It seemed as if the moment her eyes saw the black, a need to fill them with visions, of something, anything, came over her brain, and she found herself swept up in memories of what happened after that squeeze of the hand.

***

Harry and Hermione, hands entangled, stod in Dumbledoor's office, Ron standing close, his face a portrait of horror. Hermione's bliss was about to be rudely interupted.

Ron, not caring for eticuit (a/m: is that how it's spelled?) stormed over to Dumbledoor's desk, grabbed the nearest heavy thing, and threw it in Harry and Hermione's general direction. Unfortunately, Dumbledoor was bent over very near to the two's connected hands, and the stray paperweight hit him square in the forehead. Dumbledoor uttered a soft, short, sound, that was reminiscent of "Purple Mushroom Salad" and then, he was out cold.

Hermione was dumbfounded. "Ron, what the HELL was that?"

The red cleared from Ron's eyes. He hadn't even noticed it was there. "I dunno."

Harry, angry at Ron for ruining his moment with Hermione, knocking out his mentor, and adding pissed off to his long list of negative emotions, hurled himself at his now ex-best friend.

Hermione, now shrieking, managed to pull an angry Harry off of an injured Ron. "Shouldn't we, you know, take him to Madame Pomfrey?"

Ron reluctantly aggreed with this idea, as did Harry, and the three trouped over to the infirmary, carrying an unconscious headmaster between them.

"Well, it seems as if Albus is going to be alright, though I wish he would be more careful about animating all those objects in his office." Ron had informed Hermione and Harry that it would be better if the way Dumbledoor had been knocked out was better if not mentioned; Madame Pomfrey was a big girl and would figure something out.

Ron chose this time to speak up. "Yeah, and SOMETHING" he glanced at Harry "Hit me in the arm pretty hard. I think it might be broken."

Hermione, who had been cooing seductive consolences to Harry, jumped up and began to pester Ron about wheather he was alright, did he need her to stay with him, could she do anything to make him feel.. better?

***

Hermione rolled over in her sleep, but did not wake, and her mother left Hermione alone with herself, her dreams, her thoughts, and her memories.

A/N: I know, I know, not the best, but, I have something special planned for the end! Please, please don't kill me, though.